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wannabehockeygf · 2 days

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I know it won’t work - Quinn Hughes

“And part of me wants to walk away ‘til you really listen,

I hate to look at your face and know that we’re feeling different,

‘Cause part of me wants you back but,

I know it won’t work like that?”

part 3, quinn hughes // gracie abrams fic trilogy

part 1 part 2

summary: back at home, you both feel different.

word count: 6.2k pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader warnings: cheating, characters in depressive states of mind. pls take care loves <3 notes: - it's finally here! - before anyone asks, i am not doing a part 4. i ended it this way on purpose! - check out my other work i recommend if you liked this, and i'm always open for requests! - is it clever that i did the whole "talking to a stranger on a train" thing again??? someone pls say yes - not really proofread!

The smell of garlic and herbs filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of music playing in the background. You stood at the stove, stirring the pasta sauce, your focus on the way it bubbled gently. A warm smile tugged at your lips as you felt a pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“Smells amazing,” Quinn murmured into your hair, his voice low and content. He rested his chin on your shoulder, swaying slightly with you, his chest pressed against your back in a way that made you feel safe—like nothing could touch the two of you when you were like this.

You laughed, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “You’re just saying that because you’re starving.”

“Well, yeah,” he admitted with a chuckle, “But I mean it. You know I’m not great in the kitchen, so this is like… magic to me.” He squeezed you gently, his hands warm on your stomach, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart against your back, perfectly in sync with your own.

The apartment was quiet, the kind of peaceful that only seemed to happen when it was just the two of you. It wasn’t much—just a small, humble place, with mismatched furniture and a creaky floor that always groaned when Quinn walked over it. But in moments like this, it felt perfect. The soft, yellow light from the kitchen cast a gentle glow over the room, making everything feel cozy, like you were wrapped in a blanket made of love and laughter.

“I could get used to this,” Quinn said softly, his voice full of warmth. He kissed the side of your neck, and you leaned into the touch, feeling the happiness bubble up inside you like the sauce on the stove. “Coming home to you, having dinner together. It feels right.”

You turned in his arms, your heart swelling at the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. His blue eyes were soft, filled with a quiet adoration that made your chest ache in the best way. You reached up, cupping his face, your thumb brushing against the stubble on his jaw.

“You’re pretty easy to cook for,” you teased, grinning up at him.

His lips twitched into a smile, and he leaned down to kiss you—soft and sweet, like he was savoring the moment as much as you were. It was perfect. He was perfect. And for a second, you let yourself believe that this moment would last forever, that the warmth of his embrace and the tenderness of his kisses would never fade.

But then, suddenly, the room around you seemed to dissolve, the warmth of Quinn’s arms slipping away like sand through your fingers. The comforting hum of the apartment vanished, replaced by the cold, hollow sound of your own breathing.

You woke up.

The bed was empty.

Quinn was gone.

Your heart pounded in your chest as the dream faded, the sweet memory of that night together dissolving into the harsh reality that had been haunting you ever since you found out. Your fingers trembled as they gripped the sheets, the lingering warmth of his embrace still fresh in your mind, but now it felt like a lie—like everything you had built together had been a lie.

He cheated. He cheated on you, and no amount of sweet memories or perfect nights could take that away.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears as you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing with the weight of everything that had happened. The night before, the way he’d held you at the station, the way his voice had cracked when he said he missed you—it all felt tainted now, like there was an invisible stain on every memory you had with him.

How could he do this? How could he say he loved you and then turn around and betray you like that?

You closed your eyes, the tears slipping down your cheeks despite your best efforts to hold them back. Your chest ached, the pain sharp and unrelenting, as if your heart was being squeezed by invisible hands. The trust you had in him—the bond that had felt so strong—was shattered, scattered like pieces of glass that you didn’t know how to pick up.

The room felt cold, suffocating. You could still smell his cologne faintly on the pillow beside you, and it made your stomach twist with a nauseating mix of love and anger. You hated how much you missed him, how even now, after everything, your heart still ached for him.

How had it come to this?

With a shaky breath, you sat up, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. Your chest felt tight, the weight of Quinn’s betrayal pressing down on you like a stone. Every part of you wanted to scream, to cry, to throw something—anything—to make the pain go away. But instead, you just sat there, staring blankly ahead, the silence of the room wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket.

The dream had felt so real—so perfect. You could still feel the ghost of his arms around you, the warmth of his breath on your neck. But now, all that was left was the cold, hard truth.

And no dream, no memory, could change that.

He had destroyed what you had, shattered the trust you had placed in him. And no matter how much you wanted to believe that things could still be okay, deep down, you knew they never would be. You knew it didn’t work like that.

You were awake now. And the dream… it was over.

The chill of the room seemed to seep into your very bones as you reached for your phone, the screen lighting up with the time: 5:48 AM. You hadn’t been getting much sleep these past couple weeks, so you were at least glad you got an amount–but what really stuck at you were the notifications. A few from Instagram, a text from your sister, but then… a missed call. A missed call from the United States, four hours ago. They hadn’t left a voicemail, so when you clicked on your call logs to take a better look, the name read ‘Maybe: Jack Hughes.’

What the hell was Quinn’s brother doing calling you?

It had been two weeks since Quinn dropped the bomb on you, which was when you didn’t give him any more of your time and flew back home. You hadn’t cried, not really, not until you landed in Richmond and asked your mom to pick you up for the first time since you were eighteen. And although the tears flowed, you couldn’t help but feel some nagging remorse when you saw the Canucks surrender to the Bruins in five. You didn’t care though–at least you didn’t want to.

But Jack? Why did he call you at one in the morning? Scratch that, four in the morning for him. Was he trying to get you to try to forgive his brother? Was Quinn seriously that desperate? You stared at your phone, his name mocking you.

Your finger hovered over the call button, hesitating. You didn’t know Jack that well—barely at all, really. Quinn had introduced you once, in passing, during one of those family gatherings where you tried to fit in with the chaotic but tight-knit Hughes clan. Jack had been polite, maybe a little cocky, but there hadn’t been much more to it. He was Quinn’s younger brother, and that had been enough. Now, though… now everything was different.

You took a deep breath, your thumb brushing over the edge of the phone. Why would he be calling you in the middle of the night? Was this some misguided attempt to fix things for Quinn? Your stomach twisted at the thought. The last thing you needed was another reminder of everything Quinn had shattered. But curiosity gnawed at you, pulling you toward the unknown, making you wonder if Jack’s call had been more than just a plea for his brother.

Before you could overthink it, you hit the call button.

The phone rang, and your heart pounded louder with each passing second. What if he didn’t pick up? What if this was a mistake? What if—

“Hello?” Jack’s voice, groggy and confused, came through the line, snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts.

You swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. “Jack… hey, it’s me.” Your voice sounded small, like you weren’t sure of yourself anymore.

There was a pause, and you could practically hear him sitting up, becoming more alert. “Oh… hey. I didn’t think you’d call back.” His tone softened, the usual bravado gone, replaced with something quieter. “I, uh… I didn’t mean to wake you earlier. I just… I didn’t know who else to talk to.”

That caught you off guard. You sat up straighter, feeling the weight of his words settle in. He didn’t sound like someone trying to defend his brother. He sounded… lost. You hadn’t expected that.

“It’s okay,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I saw your call when I woke up. What’s going on?”

There was a long, heavy pause. You could hear the faint sound of him shifting around, maybe running a hand through his hair as he tried to gather his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw, like he was struggling with what to say. “I, uh… I know this is probably weird. I mean, we don’t really know each other that well, but…” He trailed off, the weight of the silence almost unbearable.

You waited, your pulse quickening as you wondered where this was going. The city outside was slowly waking up, cars starting to hum along the street, but inside your apartment, everything felt still, suspended in this strange limbo between you and Jack.

“I’m sorry,” Jack finally said, his voice breaking the tension. “For everything Quinn did. I know I’m not the one who should be apologizing, but… God, I feel like I need to. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you blinked, taken aback by the raw sincerity in his voice. You hadn’t expected this. Not from Jack.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you murmured, your chest tightening with a confusing mix of emotions. Anger, hurt, and something else you couldn’t quite place.

Jack let out a shaky breath. “I don’t expect you to say anything. I just wanted you to know that… I get it. I’ve been watching Quinn these last few weeks, and… he’s a mess. Not that it makes anything better, but he hates himself for what he did. And I hate him for it too, because… because you deserved better.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight. The sincerity in Jack’s voice tugged at something deep inside you, but it didn’t ease the ache in your chest. “It doesn’t change anything, Jack,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I loved him. I trusted him, and he just… he threw it all away.”

“I know,” Jack replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know, and I wish I could fix it, but… I can’t. No one can.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. The weight of everything—of Quinn’s betrayal, of Jack’s unexpected apology—pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. The memory of your dream, of Quinn’s arms around you, the warmth of his presence, felt like a cruel joke now, a reminder of what you had lost. You wanted to scream, to cry, but all you could do was sit there, numb, as Jack’s words sank in.

“I don’t know why I called,” Jack said after a while, his voice quiet. “I guess… I just wanted to tell you that Quinn’s not okay. Not that it makes a difference, but… he really screwed up, and he knows it. I think he just… he didn’t know how to handle things, and he panicked.”

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet of your apartment. “That’s an understatement.”

Jack sighed, and you could hear the frustration in his voice. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence felt different now, less tense but still heavy with unspoken words. You leaned back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling, your mind racing. Jack was the last person you had expected to hear from, and yet here he was, apologizing for something that wasn’t even his fault.

“I appreciate you calling,” you said softly, the words surprising even you. “I didn’t expect it, but… thank you.”

Jack let out a breath, the sound relieved. “Yeah, of course. I just… I didn’t want you to think that no one cared. Because I do. We do, at least me and Luke.”

The sincerity in his voice stirred something inside you, and for the first time in what felt like weeks, you didn’t feel so alone. You didn’t know what would come next, or if this conversation would change anything, but in that moment, it felt like a small sliver of light breaking through the darkness.

“I’m not ready to forgive him,” you said quietly, more to yourself than to Jack.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Jack replied, his voice gentle. “But if you ever need someone to talk to… I’m here.”

You closed your eyes, the weight of everything finally settling on your chest. “Thanks, Jack.”

As the call ended, you sat there for a moment, staring at your phone, the words you’d exchanged still hanging in the air. You didn’t know what would happen next, but at least now… now you didn’t feel quite so lost.

Quinn did, though.

As Quinn lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually slept. His mind had become a storm of regret, guilt, and shame, swirling so violently that closing his eyes only made it worse. The silence of his empty apartment felt oppressive, pressing down on his chest, making it harder to breathe.

He had never thought it would get this bad—had never imagined he’d be the kind of person to ruin the one good thing in his life. But he had. He’d destroyed it all, and now he was left with the wreckage.

Turning over in the sheets, Quinn let out a long, shaky breath. The memory of your face the last time he saw you kept replaying in his mind. The way your eyes had welled with hurt, the way your lips had trembled as you fought to keep it together. It haunted him. He had expected you to scream, to yell, to throw things—anything but that quiet, broken disappointment that cut deeper than any words could have.

He had been a coward.

Quinn scrubbed a hand over his face, feeling the stubble that had started to form along his jaw–a five-o-clock shadow, pushing six. He hadn’t bothered shaving. What was the point? He could barely look at himself in the mirror.

The worst part—the part that made his stomach twist with nausea—was knowing that no apology, no amount of regret could fix this. You had trusted him, and he had shattered that trust, not with one impulsive mistake but with a series of decisions he could never take back. And for what? Some fleeting moment of confusion, some stupid impulse he hadn’t even understood at the time.

He groaned and sat up, unable to bear the suffocating weight of his thoughts any longer. The clock on his bedside table blinked back at him. Too early, too late—time had lost meaning. All he knew was that he needed to move, to escape the prison of his mind, if only for a little while.

Without thinking, Quinn swung his legs out of bed and grabbed the first pair of running shoes he could find. The cold air hit him like a slap when he stepped outside, but he welcomed it. Anything to clear his head.

The streets were empty, the city still sleeping, save for the occasional car passing by. Quinn set off at a slow jog, his breath coming out in exasperated puffs. He focused on the rhythm of his feet hitting the pavement, the steady thump of his heart in his chest. For a moment, it felt like the weight lifted—like the physical strain could drown out the emotional turmoil. But as the minutes passed, his thoughts returned, each step bringing him closer to the memories he was trying to outrun.

He had never been the best with words. Expressing how he felt was something that had always tripped him up. But with you, it had always been different. You had a way of pulling things out of him, making him feel safe, seen. And yet, he had thrown that away, too caught up in his own fear and insecurities to see what was right in front of him.

The rhythmic pounding of his feet became erratic as his mind spiraled. He pushed himself harder, faster, as if he could outrun the shame, the self-hatred that gnawed at him.

“Idiot,” he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the sound of his shoes hitting the pavement. He didn’t care if anyone heard. The streets were still deserted, just him and his regrets.

He had no idea what Jack had said to you—whether his brother had tried to make excuses for him, to smooth things over. Quinn didn’t want that. He didn’t deserve to be let off the hook. And God, he didn’t want you to think for a second that any of this had been your fault.

But the damage was done. He had messed up in ways he could never take back, and now… now he was alone with nothing but the echo of your absence.

Quinn’s hands clenched into fists, the cool air biting at his skin. He couldn’t stand himself right now. The weight of everything was suffocating. He had never wanted to be that guy—the one who hurt someone they loved. But here he was.

He glanced up at the sky, dark and endless, a sharp contrast to the chaos inside him. For a fleeting moment, he wished he could go back, that he could rewind time to before everything fell apart. But there was no going back. There was only the aftermath.

And you were gone.

Quinn swallowed hard, his chest tightening as the reality of it all settled in. He wasn’t sure what hurt more—knowing he had lost you or knowing that he was the reason why. He bent down, hands on his knees, the steady thump of his pulse in his ears as he tried to ground himself. But no matter how hard he pushed, no matter how fast he ran, he couldn't outrun the one thing that haunted him the most: your absence. It clung to him, an ever-present ghost reminding him of every mistake he'd made.

Straightening up, Quinn glanced around. The world felt so distant, like it was moving without him. The city was slowly waking up, the quiet hum of early-morning traffic starting to build. He hadn’t realized how far he'd run, his legs carrying him on autopilot. His apartment felt like another world entirely, but the thought of returning to it—to that suffocating silence—made his stomach turn.

He exhaled, his breath shaky as he scanned the empty street. In the distance, the soft rumble of the skytrain reached his ears. Maybe that was what he needed. To just… drift for a while. Let the city move him, take him anywhere but back to the memories that gnawed at his insides.

Without thinking, Quinn jogged toward the nearest station, a beacon of escape. As he approached, he tapped his card and climbed the stairs, the rhythmic hum of the escalator filling his ears. He kept his head down, avoiding the curious glances of the few commuters on the platform. He didn’t want to be seen, didn’t want to be recognized. He wanted to be invisible, just another lost soul in the early morning haze.

The train arrived with a low hiss, the doors sliding open. Quinn stepped inside, his footsteps echoing in the near-empty car. He slid into a seat by the window, pressing his forehead against the cool glass. The city outside blurred as the train began to move, and for a moment, the steady rhythm of the rails beneath him offered a strange sense of comfort.

Quinn closed his eyes, the weight of everything pressing down on him once again. He could still see your face, the way you’d looked at him that last time—like he had shattered something precious. And he had. He had taken the one good thing in his life and broken it beyond repair.

The train rumbled on, passing through station after station, the sun beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a soft orange glow over the city. Quinn didn’t move. He didn’t know where he was going, but he didn’t care. As long as he didn’t have to think, didn’t have to face the reality of what he’d done.

The memory of Jack’s words from their last conversation drifted back to him, unbidden. You’re a mess, man. You need to fix this before it’s too late.

Too late. That phrase had been circling in his mind for weeks now. He wondered if it had already been too late from the moment he’d made that first mistake. The thought gnawed at him, tightening the knots in his chest.

A quiet voice broke through his thoughts. “Hey, uh… are you Quinn Hughes?”

Quinn’s eyes snapped open, and he blinked, startled. A man, probably the same age as him, was standing a few seats away, looking at him with a mixture of excitement and hesitation.

“Yeah,” Quinn muttered, not in the mood for fan encounters. But he wasn’t rude enough to brush the guy off completely.

The man smiled, but it was more subdued than Quinn had expected. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you. Just… I recognized you, and I’m a big fan.”

Quinn nodded, feeling the weight of his own misery creeping back in. He wasn’t used to people seeing him like this—disheveled, lost, broken. The Quinn Hughes fans admired was confident, composed, in control. Not… whatever this was.

The man hesitated, glancing at the empty seat across from Quinn. “Mind if I sit?”

Quinn shrugged. “Sure.”

As the guy sat down, there was an awkward silence, the train’s steady hum filling the space between them. Quinn stared out the window, watching the city blur past, but he could feel the man’s eyes on him.

“So, uh… you alright?” the guy asked, his voice soft.

Quinn stiffened, not expecting that. “What?”

“I don’t know,” the guy said with a shrug, leaning back in his seat. “You just… you don’t look okay. Sorry if that’s out of line.”

Quinn let out a dry laugh, running a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah. That’s one way to put it.”

The man didn’t push, which Quinn appreciated. Instead, he sat quietly, as if waiting for Quinn to say more if he wanted to. And maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the loneliness that had been eating away at him, but Quinn found himself talking before he could stop.

“I screwed up,” he said, his voice low. “Really, really bad.”

The guy nodded, not looking surprised. “Relationships, right? They’re complicated as hell.”

Quinn shot him a look, narrowing his eyes slightly. “How’d you guess?”

“Lucky guess,” the guy said with a small smile. “Plus, I’ve been there. Maybe not exactly the same, but close enough.”

Quinn leaned back, staring at the ceiling of the train. “Doesn’t make it any easier, though.”

“No, it doesn’t,” the guy agreed, his tone more serious now. “But you know, people make mistakes. It’s part of being human. What matters is what you do after.”

Quinn let out a breath, his chest tight. “I don’t think it matters what I do now. I already lost her.”

The guy tilted his head, studying Quinn for a moment. “Do you love her?”

Quinn’s stomach twisted at the question. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then maybe it’s not too late,” the guy said quietly. “If she meant that much to you… maybe you owe it to both of you to try. And if it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll know you gave it everything you had.”

Quinn swallowed, his throat tight. It wasn’t that simple. Nothing about this was simple. But there was something in the guy’s words that struck a chord, something that made the weight on his chest feel a little lighter, if only for a moment.

The man smiled again, this time more brightly. “You got a picture of her?”

Quinn hesitated for a second, but before he knew it, his phone was in his hand. He scrolled through the gallery, his heart aching as he landed on a photo of the two of you, taken months ago. You were smiling, your arm around him, the sunlight casting a warm glow on your face. Quinn handed the phone over, the image making his chest tighten painfully.

The man glanced at it, nodding appreciatively. “She’s beautiful. You two look… happy.”

Quinn couldn’t hold back the bitter laugh. “We were.”

The guy handed the phone back, his expression softening. “Hey, for what it’s worth, I think you’ve still got a chance.”

Quinn sighed, pocketing the phone. “I don’t know, man. I really messed things up.”

The man reached into his jacket and pulled out a small notebook and pen. “Well, if you ever get things back on track… and even if you don’t… mind signing this? I’ll tell people I met you on a rough day, but you’re still one of the best players out there.”

Quinn blinked, the unexpected request catching him off guard. He took the pen and scribbled his name in the notebook, handing it back.

“Thanks,” the man said with a grin. “And good luck, Quinn. You’ll figure it out.”

As the man stood up to leave, Quinn watched him go, feeling a strange sense of gratitude settle over him. Maybe things weren’t as hopeless as they seemed. Maybe there was still a sliver of light, buried somewhere in all the darkness.

The train rumbled on, and Quinn leaned his head back against the seat, staring up at the ceiling again. He wasn’t sure what would happen next, but for the first time in a long time, he felt like maybe… just maybe, he could find his way out of this mess.

It wasn’t much. But it was something. And he had to try, even if it made things worse.

Quinn’s heart pounded harder with every step as he approached your apartment building. His breath hitched as he stood outside the familiar entrance, his mind replaying every moment that had led him here. The conversations, the fights, the silence. And worst of all, the empty spaces in his life where you used to be.

For a moment, he hesitated, staring up at the building, the early morning light casting long shadows across the street. He could turn around. He could walk away, leave it all behind, and pretend like he hadn’t just spent the last hour convincing himself that this was the right thing to do.

But something inside him, something raw and desperate, wouldn’t let him.

With a shaky breath, Quinn crossed the threshold and made his way up the stairs. His legs felt heavy, the exhaustion from the run settling into his bones, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when he was this close.

Your door stood in front of him, an unassuming barrier between him and the possibility of fixing everything… or breaking it beyond repair.

His knuckles rapped against the wood, harder than he intended, the sound echoing in the hallway. Quinn’s chest tightened as he waited, the silence that followed feeling like an eternity. What if you didn’t answer? What if you weren’t home? Or worse—what if you were home, and you refused to see him?

His pulse quickened, panic starting to creep in, but he forced it down. He couldn’t think like that. Not now.

“Please,” he muttered under his breath, leaning his forehead against the door. “Please just let me explain.”

For a long, agonizing moment, nothing happened. Quinn squeezed his eyes shut, his heart sinking as the silence stretched on. Maybe this had been a mistake. Maybe Jack was right—he really was a mess.

But then, the sound of the door unlocking cut through the quiet, and Quinn’s breath hitched.

The door opened slowly, and there you were, standing in the doorway, your expression unreadable. Quinn’s heart stopped for a second, the sight of you making the air leave his lungs. You looked tired, your eyes puffy like you hadn’t slept, and Quinn’s chest ached with the realization that he had caused that.

You didn’t say anything. Just stared at him, waiting.

Quinn's heart felt like it was lodged in his throat as you stood in front of him, your silence more suffocating than any words could have been. For a long, agonizing moment, neither of you moved. His breath came in shallow bursts, his chest constricting painfully as he struggled to find the right words—any words—that could undo the damage. But standing there, face to face with you, everything he had rehearsed in his mind vanished, like smoke in the wind.

He could see the hurt etched into the lines of your face, in the way your eyes didn’t shine the way they used to. There was a rawness there, a kind of vulnerability that made Quinn want to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. But he knew—he knew—that wouldn’t be enough.

“Hi,” he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. It felt ridiculous, small. But it was all he could manage.

You didn’t respond right away. Your eyes searched his face, like you were looking for something—an answer, a reason, an explanation. Something that might make sense of the chaos he had caused. But whatever you were looking for, Quinn feared you wouldn’t find it in him.

“I…” He swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep talking. “I’m sorry. For everything. I know I messed up, and I know I hurt you. I… I just need you to hear me out.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the doorframe as if bracing yourself for whatever was about to come next. Your posture wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t welcoming either. Quinn felt the distance between you two like a chasm, one that he had dug with every mistake, every lie, every selfish decision.

“Quinn, I—” you started, but he cut you off, the desperation in his voice spilling over before he could stop it.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me. I just… I need you to know that I love you. I’ve always loved you. And I—” His voice cracked, and he clenched his fists at his sides, trying to steady himself. “I can’t stop thinking about what I did. Every day, it’s like this hole inside me gets bigger, and I can’t fill it. I know it’s my fault. I know I ruined us. But I just—” He paused, his breath hitching. “I can’t let it end like this.”

The silence that followed was crushing. Quinn’s heart pounded in his ears as he waited, his pulse a steady, anxious thrum in his veins. He could feel his words hanging in the air between you, fragile and trembling, like they could shatter at any moment.

“I don’t know if you understand what you did, Quinn,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, but every word cut through him like a blade. “It wasn’t just one mistake. It wasn’t just the cheating. It was everything that came with it—the lies, the way you acted like you were the only one hurting.”

Quinn flinched, the guilt gnawing at him again, the memories of those dark nights when he’d pushed you away, drowning in his own self-pity. He had been so caught up in his own spiral that he hadn’t realized he was dragging you down with him.

“I do understand,” he said, but his voice wavered, unsure. “At least, I’m starting to. I’ve been… I’ve been trying to figure out how I could do something so—”

“Cruel?” you interrupted, and your voice cracked, the first sign of emotion slipping through your stoic exterior. Your eyes glistened for a moment, but you blinked it away quickly. “You shattered me, Quinn. Do you even know what that felt like? To find out like that? To hear it after I came to fucking Boston for you?”

You lowered your gaze, your expression softening but not in the way Quinn had hoped. It wasn’t anger or even sadness—it was something worse. Resignation. A quiet acceptance that made Quinn’s chest tighten painfully.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if I have it in me to keep getting hurt.”

Quinn’s stomach dropped. The words hit him like a punch to the gut, but he forced himself to nod, even though every fiber of his being wanted to protest. He knew this was coming—had known it for weeks, months even—but hearing it out loud made it real in a way that nothing else could.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “I know, and I don’t blame you. I just… I thought maybe if I tried, if I showed you how much you mean to me, you’d—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. It was useless. He couldn’t make you stay. He couldn’t make you forgive him. And trying to push you would only make things worse.

Your eyes met his again, and there was a softness in them now, but it wasn’t hope. It was sorrow. “I loved you, Quinn. I really did.”

Quinn felt his heart shatter all over again, each word landing like a blow. He wanted to reach out, to touch you, to pull you close and tell you that it didn’t have to end like this. But he knew—he knew—there was nothing left to say. Nothing that could fix this. You were done, and he could feel it in the way you stood, like you were already halfway gone.

“I’ll never stop loving you,” he said quietly, the admission spilling out of him like a confession. “Even if you never take me back. Even if I never see you again.”

You blinked, and for a second, Quinn thought he saw your resolve waver. But then you shook your head, the movement so small, so subtle, that it was almost imperceptible.

“I’m sorry, Quinn,” you whispered. “I just… I can’t go through this again.”

The finality in your words hit him like a brick, and Quinn felt the last shred of hope slip through his fingers, cold and unrelenting. He nodded slowly, his throat tight with the weight of everything he wanted to say but couldn’t. This was it. The end.

You glanced down at your feet, biting your lip before looking back up at him. “I hope… I hope you find peace. I really do.”

Quinn’s breath hitched in his chest, and he swallowed hard, his eyes stinging with the effort of holding back tears. He nodded again, unable to trust his voice.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, caught in the heavy silence of everything that was left unsaid. Quinn wanted to stay. He wanted to linger in your presence for as long as possible, even if it was just in this painful, heartbreaking moment. But he knew he had to let you go.

With a shaky breath, Quinn took a step back, his body feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds. He forced himself to turn around, each step away from you feeling like it was pulling him apart at the seams. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

As he reached the stairs, Quinn paused, glancing over his shoulder one last time. You were still standing there, watching him, your expression unreadable. He wanted to say something, anything that would make this less painful. But all that came out was a hoarse, broken whisper.

“Goodbye.”

And with that, Quinn turned and walked away, the cold morning air biting at his skin as he disappeared into the street. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t.

Outside, the city was waking up, the streets beginning to fill with people going about their lives, unaware of the devastation that had just unfolded in that small apartment. Quinn stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the sky, his chest tight, his heart a mess of broken pieces.

He had lost you. For good this time.

And yet, amidst the sorrow, there was something else—something he hadn’t expected. Closure.

It wasn’t the ending he had wanted. It doesn’t work like that, and he knew it.

But it was the ending he deserved.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl x you #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fic #qh43 #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x you #vancouver canucks #vancouver canucks imagine #qh43 imagine #qh43 x reader

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snoopledrooplecheesedoodle · 24 hours

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Fall Yandere Prompts

Fuck Me I put prompts on the other thing at didn't actually put prompts, I suck anyways here are a few prompts made by yours truly. Others are free to use them just please tag me. Thanks. I'll make more Halloween ones if people like these.

Apple Cider: A sweet yet tangy that leaves a warm feeling. Your eyelids start drooping after drinking every drop.

Bonfire: Dry sticks and leaves are so easy to burn in high bright flames. Be wary of what the light attracts.

Crows: Inky black birds with a glimmer of intelligence in their eyes. You feel a dozen pairs of eyes watching your every move.

Dry Leaves: Crunchy and brown and always fun to mess around in. You hear a second set of feet slowly trotting behind you.

End: Autumn signifies the end of Summer and a change in season. It also signified the end of your freedom.

Flannel: The warmth of this fall apparel is so comforting in the crisp weather. Don't you like it, they picked out just for you.

Grain: Bountiful and golden, shaking in the cool breeze. You meet a friendly stranger standing in the grain field, holding a scythe.

Harvest: Fall provides us with a bountiful harvest of corn, pumpkins, apples, pears, and grain. Such bounty requires a sacrifice to be made.

Indoors: Why go outside when you can snuggle under the covers and keep warm? Just because it's your home doesn't mean you are safe.

Jack-O-Lanterns: Grinning gourds light up the night, carving them is a fun activity. They want to participate but got a little too creative.

Kettle: Boiling water for a hot beverage on the stove is so nice. The water isn't quite done but you still hear whistling.

Leaf: Colorful trees make such wonderful leaves they look good pressed in a book. You see one on your bed side every day, they have a distinct metallic scent.

Mushrooms: Clustered together they're a fungi to be around. More seem to grow near you each day in strange patterns.

Nutmeg: Fall spices are aromatic and make every dish warm with flavor. If your running low the next-door neighbor might have some, might as well come inside while they look for what you need.

Orchard: Fruit trees tended to with tender care, baring crimson fruit. Picking just one won't hurt.

Pie: Steaming goodness wrapped in a golden shell. Have another slice there's plenty to go around.

Quiet: Many an autumn night is filled with sweet and calming silence. It feels a little too quiet tonight, might want to retire early.

Reaping: How to harvest the crops grown, you reap the rewards of the Earth. Someone has come to take you or your soul, they're not very picky.

Spider: Dainty legs weave beautiful webs, enticing as they are dangerous. Any prey they catch, they won't let go.

Tree: Majestic and tall these ancient plants reach up to the dwindling sun with aching branches. Haven't you seen that tree before, you must be hopelessly lost, perhaps that's better than being found.

Umbrella: The cold weather makes rain extra chilling; with a warm smile you share your umbrella. No good deed goes unpunished, as the storm outside isn't what you should be worried about.

Vermillion: Beautiful shade of red found plentifully in the fall, its beautiful yet it can be a dangerous color too.

Wind: Rattling trees and blowing the leaves to the ground, the wind tickles your ears and nips at your nose. It carries with it the unhinged words of a person you never want to see again.

Xenial: Being most hospitable is a must during autumn. This does not change when a stranger shows up at your front door requesting shelter.

Yarn: Soft threads of vibrant colors used to create warm clothes, blankets, and other things. The string prevents you from moving while someone knits in the corner, eyes focused on you.

Zipper: Better zip up when it's so chilly outside, wouldn't want to catch a cold. You also might want to zip it before they hear you.

#yandere x reader #fall prompts #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jjba #yandere twst #female yandere #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere obey me #yandere prompt #yandere hetalia #yandere honkai star rail #yandere pokemon x reader #yandere total drama

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jenctrl · 10 hours

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4 - Anxious (stomach ache)

“Put your phone away.”

Y/n hummed at the grumble from Minji, still busy with her phone though until her sleeve was tugged and the phone grabbed out of her hold. She sighed and jutted her lower lip, tilting her head to look up at Minji, who turned off the device.

“They were worried because I just disappeared.” She explained, letting her head fall back onto her girlfriend's shoulder as she was wrapped in a warm embrace. It was comforting, cosy, and one she could long for, it was enough to come back to when Minji held her with love and care.

She peeked up and met Minji’s eyes as they lay on the soft bed. The sound from the TV wasn’t anything they paid attention to, Y/n couldn’t focus on these things when she was with Minji. Her mind was too busy with anecdotes of everything her girlfriend did for her, how she cared for her, held her and everything in between.

“They will survive without you.”

Y/n smiled and ran her hand over Minji’s hoodie-covered stomach. Her fingers traced patterns, softly, getting lost in her thoughts. Her eyes trailed away from her girlfriends whose hand came up to leave tender touches along Y/n’s temple, running across her cheek and over the pulsing vein on her neck before she cradled her face and caressed her cheek with her thumb.

“And you won’t?” She questioned, moving her head to lay it where the beating of Minji’s heart echoed. It always sounded promising, a beating heart, it let her know that Minji was there with her. She liked how warm Minji’s body was, how warm her touch was as she closed her eyes and felt her body relax, forgetting all the tension she had been carrying these few weeks.

“I really won’t, I barely made it through those two weeks without you.”

“Okay,” it made her smile and dwell on those words. There was no one else Y/n wanted to matter to as much as she wanted to matter to Minji. The girl who held her was her whole world and she didn’t need much in that world to get through the rough roads it was made of and the dreams that always seemed to crumble.

One always stood tall without budging; it was the dream of being loved and being able to love. Whichever she desired the most was a mystery because Y/n did both intensely and passionately, where she poured every drop of blood she had for someone else.

She tried to get lost in Minji’s heartbeat, the fingers that gently caressed her skin under her clothes, the comforting words. There seemed to be a problem with getting lost when her mind was always on alert.

No matter how comforting it felt, Y/n was always anxious in Minji’s arms, in her presence, whenever they were together her stomach would twist and start to ache. It made her feel sick and she wondered if she was the only one. It wasn’t because of Minji though.

Her girlfriend wasn’t the problem. Y/n’s mind was, and no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, it never worked. From the second they saw each other, Y/n started dreading the moment they would say goodbye. Although she never wanted to leave, she felt afraid whenever they had to part ways.

She would never tell the girl who was holding her that she teared up and felt like throwing up whenever the door closed behind her. That her knees would go weak and her fingers would tremble. It probably wasn’t normal to depend so much on one person, but she didn’t control it.

It could be because she hated being alone or it could be the uncertainty of what tomorrow held or because she wanted to be loved. Not being able to know what came next made Y/n feel nauseous, she hated that familiar feeling of always being afraid of the unpredictable.

She never managed to enjoy the moment as she got too occupied thinking about when they would say goodbye. Y/n couldn’t stay in the present, she was always anticipating the future, trying her best to go over every possibility as she knew how uncertain everything was. She had to stay ready for the worst.

The worst in this scenario was having to leave because no time with Minji felt like it was enough. The wish to make time stand still or at least slow down, for time to be nothing but a mere concept with no existence.

The girl closed her eyes, trying to forget everything and just dwell on the feeling of Minji caressing every ridge on her body. Her touch was tender, it was loving, and there was care and thought in each touch by her girlfriend, it left a burning sensation inside Y/n. One she was afraid of, it felt too good.

Y/n didn’t think she deserved this type of pure love. It felt too good to be true, it was so different to what she was used to. It all kept twisting in her stomach, making her anxious because what if Minji realised she was wasting her love on someone like Y/n? Maybe she made Minji feel sick.

“You look so pretty.” Y/n hummed at the words, a smile gracing her lips as her arms wrapped around Minji’s shoulders. She got pulled closer by the arms that were around her waist as she was straddling the girl’s lap.

“You’re always so nice to me.” She mumbled and used one hand to fix the few loose strands of hair that had fallen in the way of Minji’s face. The other’s lips were quick to make contact with her fingers as she kissed Y/n’s hand, planting small kisses before making the girl yelp and quickly withdraw her hand after she bit her finger.

Minji smiled a stupid grin at what she did and tightly wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist when the girl tried to push her away, it made a light laugh escape Y/n’s lips. Her body moulded against Minji’s whose breath tickled her skin as she hid her face in the crook of Y/n’s neck.

She couldn’t remember the last time she felt fine; well, she could. The last time Y/n felt fine was before Minji left her behind and she understood that it was work, but the distance between them always felt bigger than it had to be.

Y/n felt like Minji was holding her at arm's length for so many reasons, excluding the obvious reason that she was a secret and had to keep it. That was something she stayed fine with for Minji’s sake; she’d do anything for Minji. She didn’t like breaking promises. However, she couldn’t understand why Minji was pushing her away after each time she let her in first.

It still satisfied Y/n’s needs, she assumed, whenever she loved her, no matter in what way. Whether a text saying she did or seeing her and making time for her, even a simple kiss made Y/n feel loved. Y/n took it all as long as she knew that Minji loved her. She could as well have gotten nothing, she could as well not be loved by Minji.

Her fingers tangled in the girl’s hair as she started to scatter kisses over her neck, kissing up and making shivers of pleasure run over Y/n’s body. The higher she got the louder she would kiss until she pressed a long and overdramatic kiss to Y/n’s cheek, making the girl laugh and pull back.

Minji tilted her head, the big smile on her face falling into a more adoring one as her eyes were soft on Y/n. “It’s the truth though and you deserve nothing but nice.”

She moved her hands over to Minji’s face, cupping right under her jaw with thumbs caressing along her cheekbones. Y/n could spend the rest of her life just listening to Minji’s sweet words while getting lost in her tender touch, it felt serene, like everything Y/n had ever wished for; to be loved and to be able to give back.

Slowly, she leaned in a little closer just as Minji did, their noses touched and the idol brushed hers against Y/n’s. They caught each other’s eyes and Y/n felt anxious, but there was reassurance in the other pair of brown eyes, they had a grip on her heart, one she had a hard time escaping. It was probably obvious.

Minji probably knew her better than Y/n would like to admit to.

She watched her reflection in the brown eyes, they reflected her so flawlessly in the moment that it didn’t feel real. It wasn’t possible to be flawless, but at times Minji made it seem like everything was perfect as they closed the gap between them with their heads tilted and lips meeting.

It was slow, Y/n’s nails gently scratched along Minji’s jaw. Her body and mind succumbed so easily to her girlfriend. She had waited to be close to Minji again, she wouldn’t tell her that though, she wouldn’t want to burden Minji with longing. She preferred being there for her instead of asking for anything back. Y/n sighed, feeling warm all over after turning blue for the past weeks.

“Say what you want–instead of trying to flatter me,” she mumbled between the kiss they shared, having trouble pulling away. Minji let out a breath at that, pulling away the tiniest bit to get a quick look at Y/n whose eyes were already on hers.

It wasn’t long until her lips were back on Y/n’s though, scattering kisses on the girl’s skin as her lips softly moved along her jaw and cheek. “Wanna know what I want?” She breathed out, burying her head in the crook of Y/n’s neck as her hands rubbed at her lower back. The breath that hit her skin made her somewhat squirm as it tickled yet made her pull in closer.

“Yeah?”

“I wanna continue watching Evangelion.”

“Noo–” Y/n whined and clung onto her girlfriend when she tried to move her out of her lap, stopping her from grabbing the remote. “Focus on me instead.” She tried and Minji laughed at the way Y/n tried to overpower her and she gave in, letting her girlfriend tackle her onto the mattress.

“I’ve been focusing on you for the past few hours.” Y/n was aware that they were playing around, that they were joking and it did feel light, but the truth always lingered at the back of her head. A few hours was usually what they got together and she wasn’t one to complain, but it wasn’t often. Sometimes it felt like she pictured Minji more than she saw her.

“You’re acting as if I haven’t made you watch Evangelion at least five times with me already.” Minji rolled her eyes as she was held down by her shoulders where Y/n held her palms planted. She reached a hand up, running her fingers through Y/n’s hair and holding it back from tickling her face. Eyes admiring the girl on top of her and it was the type of closeness Y/n always craved.

“Shouldn’t have shown it to me, it’s too good.”

“I know I have good taste, but watch me instead.” She watched how the girl under her put on a smug smile.

“Considering you’re with me, I would say that you do.”

“You’re so full of yourself.”

The latter hummed and guided Y/n’s face closer to hers until their lips met in a short kiss. “As if you didn’t just tell me to watch you,” Minji argued, mumbling against the girl’s lips and as Y/n parted her lips to get in another quip, the vibrating of a phone cut them off. It was Minji’s phone and her hold on Y/n disappeared; the girl felt cold and her stomach dropped at what she knew was next.

Minji sat up as Y/n moved off of her while chewing on the inside of her cheek, biting down, gnawing on her lower lip, and doing everything to stop herself from falling into the melancholy. She hated how heavy it felt on her chest as she stared at the sheets while Minji was on the phone. Y/n could cry, but she wouldn’t, she already felt like a burden most of the time to her girlfriend.

She didn’t want to be needier than she already was.

However, the prickling at her nose always made it hard and she took a deep breath, rapidly blinking her eyes as she reached for her phone to occupy herself with something. It was difficult because all thoughts about Minji were always overbearing and at times she couldn’t think about anything else except her.

“They’re on their way back,” the idol didn’t seem to struggle the way Y/n did, not with how easily those words that meant ‘leave’ left her mouth.

Y/n wanted to bring it up again, but it always ended the same way whenever she suggested that they would at least let their close friends know about them. She settled on making it easier than it already was for Minji though as she looked up with a small smile and gave a nod, waiting for the pain in her throat to go away before she spoke.

‘Two hours, you got two whole hours when you could have gotten none after not seeing her for so long.’

‘It doesn’t matter if you would quit everything for her. You won’t get the same back.’

‘Be grateful for what you have and get because you get more than you deserve most of the time.’

She hated how self-aware she was and how contrasting her thoughts could get, but she quickly got up on her feet. Y/n wasn’t one to lay on the ground and whine for too long. She was taught better than to bother someone for too long.

“How will you get back?” Minji asked as Y/n hadn’t said anything since she got up from her bed. She watched her girlfriend gather her things and give a shrug.

“Cab.” It came as a mumble.

“Let me send you money for it.”

“Minji, it’s fine, I have money,” Y/n argued, her tone coming off a bit harsher than intended, but she got defensive whenever she felt the slightest bit vulnerable; she was scared. There was no need for more salt in the wound; to show care whenever Y/n doubted that Minji did care.

“Okay, but I wanted you to come, so I want to pay for it–” Minji stopped as Y/n turned around with a small frown. “You’re my girlfriend, let me pay for your trip back at least.” She didn’t feel like her girlfriend at times. She didn’t need the whole world to know, but it felt so wrong to be Minji’s secret. It destroyed her.

It ate at her day after day and made her feel sick, Y/n could never turn to anyone, the only person she could turn to was barely there because her girlfriend was busy. At times it felt like she was in a cage, waiting for Minji to just check on her. It wasn’t right, but she would do anything for Minji.

“Yeah.” She agreed and pouted as she watched Minji reach for her phone again, her eyes glancing between the screen and Y/n.

“Won’t you get cold in that?” She questioned, paying attention to how Y/n was only in a thin top and it was getting late and the weather was cooler by now.

“I’m just heading down and into the cab.” Y/n replied as her gaze was on her phone to order the said cab, getting the notification from Minji. It was nothing new to have Minji send her money or give her material things despite never asking for it.

It was too familiar to Y/n. Did Minji see it as some type of compensation? Maybe it was genuine and not out of guilt and Y/n was the bad person for not appreciating Minji more. Usually Y/n felt like a terrible person because of how things looked, how she looked at them and the problem seemed to lay in her and not their relationship.

“All the more why you should wear a hoodie.” The latter said as she tossed her phone aside with a frown and stood up. Y/n watched the taller girl who was about to pass by her to get to her closet and she grabbed hold of Minji’s sleeve, stopping her.

“I’ve been keeping this hoodie from everyone.” Minji whined and Y/n jutted her lower lip as she looked up at her through her lashes. All she craved was Minji’s warmth and comfort in the end. Her girlfriend groaned and grabbed the hem of the black hoodie.

“I love you.”

“I love you, a lot.”

Y/n could still feel Minji’s lips linger on hers after the door closed behind her and those feelings came back, always leaving the place with a sick stomach, an anxious feeling and the thought of being nothing but a terrible person. Despite the awareness and these feelings, it was still always worth running back no matter what.

masterlist | next

a/n: any type of feedback is really appreciated even smth short like 'it's good or bad' it's hard to improve etc otherwise :D

taglist! - @yxlis @pandafuriosa60 @sixflame438 @drvirgus @baelabong @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @dollydigital @yncoreee @multiliker @yoontoonwhs @dreamingst99 @1luvkarina @gayforalll @gtfoiydlyj @celestialsequels @starstruckgoateepuppy @yeetaberry127 @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @onlyhyunjin @awkwardtoafault @jisooftme

#newjeans smau #newjeans x reader #newjeans minji #minji x reader #minji imagines #newjeans #kim minji x reader #kpop smau #newjeans fanfic #kpop gg #newjeans imagines #newjeans minji x reader #idol x reader

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forsaire · 4 hours

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inspired by this art from @melh1art

Things were eventually meant to break between the two of them. To snap and succumb. There were only so many lingering looks, or accidental touches, or hours spent together before one or both of them caved and they finally stopped dancing around whatever was between them.

It was late, the two of them passing a bottle back and forth in the glow of the dim lamp, both secretly wishing the mouth of the bottle was the other person's lips. They took long, languid sips, their fiery eyes locked onto one another, feeling the bubble of tension grow stronger and stronger.

And just like any bubble, it eventually popped.

Maybe it was Soap, maybe it was Ghost, maybe it was both of them, but they found themselves tumbling into bed together. Hands frantically explored every inch of bare skin, their bodies burned against the touch of one another, their hearts excitedly beat with anticipation.

Soap trailed his kisses across Ghost's collarbone. He could feel the gentle puff of air, warm across Soap's cheek, coming from underneath Ghost's mask. He was filled with desire unlike anything he'd felt before. He needed more than anything to taste Ghost's lips.

He raised his hand to the side of Ghost's neck, his pinkie finger just slipping under the edge of Ghost's mask.

He needed...

But Ghost's hand came up, wrapping its gentle touch - more gentle than he expected - around Soap's wrist, stopping him from going further.

"No," Ghost said softly, just one word, spoken with intent.

"Please..." Soap said, pathetically begging with need. His thumb trailed down the lower edge of the mask, feeling Ghost's lips underneath the fabric. "I want to kiss you, Simon. I know you want to kiss me too."

Ghost's eyes, the colour of earth beginning anew, were so tender, the longing flashing back almost indescribable. Ghost's hand against Soap's wrist was still gentle, still warm. His eyes flicked down to look at Soap's lips, a desperate shuddering falling from Ghost's mouth.

"Close your eyes," Ghost whispered softly.

Without question, Soap did what he was told. His whole heart belonged to the man overtop of him, every bit of trust placed in his firm but gentle hands.

The bed shifted slightly and soon Soap felt something soft wrap around his head. He felt Ghost's expert fingers dance around, tying the piece of cloth against Soap's eyes. He tightened it with a gentle tug.

"Does that hurt?" he asked.

"Nae. You could never hurt me."

Ghost cupped the back of Soap's head and put a firm press against Soap's chest, tenderly urging him to lay back on the bed. Soap melted into the mattress, his hands finding solace against Ghost's hips.

Then, Soap felt a pair of lips press down against his chest, an involuntary gasp of pleasure being pulled from his body. Those lips placed delicate kisses all the way up his sternum, softer than he could have ever imagined. Slowly, teasingly, they reached his neck, winding up to just below his jaw.

Soap could sense Ghost pause right above his lips.

"You're right..." he murmured, his breath tickling Soap's lips making his heart clench with desire. "I do want to kiss you..."

The next second, Ghost pressed his lips down against Soap's, overwhelming elation pulsating through his body. Soap wrapped his arms around Ghost's neck, his fingers faintly playing with his loose hair.

He wanted to keep Ghost there forever. It was everything he imagined and more. It was the sudden sensation of fulfillment after feeling empty for so long. It was everything his heart desired.

It was Ghost.

#🤭🤭🤭#didn't exactly know how to end it but ayyaya #greatly inspired by the artwork #thank you #ghostsoap writing #my writing #oneshot #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod #codfic

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hunterevie · 3 days

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Story - Surprise Adopted

Pairing - Castiel/Dean Winchester

Characters - Castiel, Dean Winchester and Jack Kline.

Rating - Teen

Word Count - 2696

Summary - After Dean takes Jack out for a father son bonding trip, they come home and tell Cas about their day. Jack, in his excitement, tells Cas that he was almost ‘surprise adopted.’ After Dean clarifies he means kidnapped it ends up in an argument between Cas and Dean.

Upset with how things went down, Dean tries to make it up to Cas and they have a heart to heart.

Cas was enjoying his time alone in the bunker. When Dean awoke in the morning he had persuaded him that it would be nice to take Jack out for a little while, just the two of them, for a bit of father and son bonding time. Although his husband complained and groaned like the tired bear he was before a cup of coffee, he did eventually relent. Cas knew it was just to keep him quiet so he could have his coffee but he didn’t care, seeing it as a small victory.

Cas smiled when he heard the bunker door open, the excited chattering of Jack and Dean filling the halls. It seemed as if everything had gone well. Putting his book down, he decided to move to the kitchen. Knowing that Deans first port of call after a long day would be another coffee, that or a beer. He floated into the kitchen, sitting at the table and waited for their arrival. Looking up and smiling as Jack walked in with Dean following not long behinds

“Hey Jack, did you have a good day with your father?” Castiel asked, ignoring the heated glare from Deans direction. Cas’s insistence of referring to Dean as Jacks second dad was a common argument between them both. His husband saw himself as more of an uncle figure rather than a father to the young being. Cas disagreed, as soon as they married Dean became Jacks second parent. It was something he would have to accept.

“It was great. We went to the zoo. Got hot dogs and burgers and then got some ice cream on the way home.” Jack took the chair opposite Castiel, fiddling with a little bag in his hand. In the background Dean was busy fixing himself a coffee, paying no attention to the two heavenly beings having a chat in his kitchen.

“I’m glad you had a good time with your father.” There was an annoyed grunt from Dean. Cas just choose to ignore him.

“I also bought you a little something.” The bag was handed over to Cas, who responded with a confused little look. Taking the bag from his sons hand before peering inside.

His eyes went impossibly soft at the tiny little soft toy in the bag. As he reached in Dean finally turned back towards the room, looking to Jack with a knowing smile. Eyes trained on his coffee when Cas finally looked back up to Jack, pulling out the little bee soft toy. Yellow and black with a happy little smile on its face.

“Jack it’s adorable. Thank you son.” Cas whispered.

“Told you he’d like it.” Dean said before he could stop himself.

“You got me this?”

“Erm no. Jack saw it and I persuaded him you’d like it. He wasn’t sure at first but I assured him you would find it sweet.” Without thinking, Cas stood from the chair, moving towards his husband, removing the coffee from his hands before pulling him in for a long hug and tender kiss on the cheek. Afterwards making his way to Jack and giving him a hug also. Going back to his chair with his little bee soon afterwards.

After that they just talked for a while. Jack yammering on about the animals in the zoo whilst Cas listened intently, occasionally turning to smile at his husband, and Dean just leaning against the breakfast bar, enjoying his coffee and relaxing after a hard day with Jack.

“Oh I also nearly got surprise adopted.” That confused him. He turned to his husband, wanting to gain a bit of clarity.

“Surprise adopted?” With his coffee done, Dean had his head bowed, the sound of running water cutting through the confused question from Cas.

“He was almost kidnapped.” Dean responded, nonchalantly. Barely paying any mind to the question as he washed up his used cup.

“Oh okay.” Deans lack of concern soothed Cas, that was until he played the words in his head again. His eyes widened as he looked at Jack, smiling on the other side of the table at him. “YOU WERE WHAT?” The yell startled Dean out of his chore, picking up the dish cloth before eying up his husband who was now staring between Jack and Dean. Wanting some kind of explanation to what he was hearing.

“Dean, I thought I asked you to look after our son.”

“Your son.” He said without thinking, a hard look in response came from Cas. Eyes narrowing in anger. Clearly it was not the time to discuss Jacks parentage.

“Our son.” He growled out. Irritated that even after all this time they were still having this discussion. “You said you would look after him. What happened?”

“It was just two guys I had a bit of beef with. It’s no big deal Cas. As you can see he’s fine.” The assurances were not working, Deans eyes flicked down to Cas’s flexing hand. Knowing he had upset his husband enough for his nervous tick to present itself.

“Jack, could you leave me to talk to your father for a minute.” Cas said, not looking at his adoptive son. Jack just shrugged his shoulders before leaving the room. Dean knew this was not a good sign. They were going to have a big argument and he didn’t want his kid to be watching.

“Let’s get this over with.” He mumbled, throwing a hand through his hair and sighing.

“What do you mean two men you had a beef with?” His voice was terrifyingly level considering the situation.

“They were two former hunters who thought I owed them some money.” Arms now crossed ahead of him, head towards the ground. Not wanting to look at his husband, knowing that he had disappointed him and it was better to be submissive in this conversation.

“So they decided to kidnap our son?” Again, his voice was scarily level. Almost calm even. Dean knew it was just the calm before the storm though

“They thought they could leverage him for money. But Cas, he was never in any danger.” Finally he looked up, green eyes meeting those blue, so full of anger the beautiful colouring of those eyes couldn’t be seen.

“Never in any…Dean he’s still a child.” There was a large booming voice from Cas now, sparks of electricity seemed to dance from the lights onto his body. The normally hidden wings made an appearance in the sudden shadows of the room. Dean refused to be intimidated though.

“He’s a god Cas. In case you have forgotten. The god. Even if things had gone south he would have been perfectly okay on his own.” As he spoke he could see the look of disbelief on his husbands face. Finally Cas stood from the chair, standing closer to Dean with his hands on his hips, head raised a little with a challenging look in his eyes. If that anger wasn’t directed at him, Dean would almost find it hot.

“That’s besides the point Dean. You’re his guardian and I requested you look after him. And you come back and tell me somebody tried to kidnap him?” His voice had gone an octave lower. Eyes boring into Deans own, making him feel uncomfortable, wanting to look away. But he couldn’t, knowing it would just anger his husband more.

“Cas you’re overreacting a little. Nothing happened. The kid is fine and even if somebody did take him he would still be fine. You’ve gotta relax man.” There was an attempt to keep his voice as light as possible, tender, soothing. Wanting to try and get Cas to calm a little and think a bit more logically. But it wasn’t working, the term ‘man’ only riled up the angel more.

“Relax…how can I relax? You aren’t taking this seriously enough Dean. I just….i don’t know if I can trust you alone with him now.” Those last words…stung. His heart dropped a little at them. Finding out that Cas no longer trusted him alone with Jack because of this one silly thing was such a gut puncher. He felt the tears forming in his eyes, willing them away so he didn’t let his husband catch on that he had hurt him.

“Cas?” Dean whispered, hand reaching out to him. When Cas refused to let him touch him, that’s when a stray tear fell down his cheek. He hated upsetting his husband, hated when they fought. After such a lovely day with Jack as well, it was a tough one to take. Dean wished he could just go back and start over from the moment he was given that cute little bee. Just told Cas what had happened, maybe he wouldn’t have been so angry now if he was a bit more forthcoming.

“I’m going to bed.” Cas said as he turned away, leaving the former hunter alone in the kitchen. When all was clear, he wiped away the tear that was falling down his cheek, looking around the room that was filled with happy chatter until only moments ago. The silence felt oppressive now.

Wanting to keep himself distracted, Dean decided to do a bit of a clean. Although his kitchen was always in a pristine condition, it helped to relax him keeping himself busy. He knew he needed to speak to Cas about everything, but wanted to give him the opportunity to cool off a little. Knowing that going into their bedroom would just cause another argument.

“Is Castiel okay?” Dean jumped at the voice of Jack, distracted by his own thoughts as to how he could make it up to his husband. He looked at Jack with a small heartbroken smile.

“Yeah, he just got a bit freaked out by your almost kidnapping. He will be fine.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to get you into trouble Dean.” Unconsciously he found himself closing the distance to Jack, pulling him in for a hug.

“It’s okay. It’s normal for married couples to fight. It’s just how it is.” And he and Cas had fought a lot, even before they were together. Arguing over cases, over Cas’s insistence on sacrificing himself for him, over whether he should submit to Michael, after Rowenas death.

He hated it though. Hated seeing how sad his husband was because of something he did. He knew he had to make things right.

“Look…why don’t you go pick a film out for us to watch and I’ll go try smooth things over with Cas. We will meet you in the Dean cave.” With that Jack uncoupled himself from Dean and scooted off down the hallway. Sighing Dean picked up the little bee toy and made his way to their bedroom.

Without knocking he pushed his way in, finding his husband lying as still as a statue on their bed, staring up at the ceiling unblinking. For a moment Dean just stood, watching, waiting to see if Cas would acknowledge him. But there was nothing, not even a look at the door. Dean signed, walking in and shutting the door behind him.

“You left your little bee at the table.” He said, holding out the little toy that Jack had bought for his husband. Finally Cas acknowledged him, sitting up, one leg bent with an arm resting on it as he looked up at his husband. The red around his eyes the evidence of him crying. Dean felt his heart break a little bit more, he hated he did this to him.

“Thanks handsome.” Okay he was still using his pet name, that was a good sign. He may have been angry but he had calmed down enough to be a little more warm and affectionate.

Dean made his way to the bed, sitting on the edge and holding the little bee out for Cas who gratefully accepted it.

“You know, he’s got a name?” There was an adorable little tilt of the head, clearly Cas was wondering if his husband had gone mad. “Jack named him Bertie the bee.” A snort of laughter, small smile and a shake of the head calmed Dean considerably. He knew things were going to be okay with them.

“I’m sorry for saying those awful things. I didn’t mean them.” Cas started, finally giving the eye contact that Dean craved so much. Instinctively he raised his hand, cupping Cas’s face gently and caressing his cheek.

“It’s okay sweetheart. It scared you and you reacted out of fear. It’s understandable. I don’t like it when I upset you.” Slowly he slid onto the bed next to Cas, his husband shifting over and laying back down pulling Dean into his chest. Hugging him tight. Finally the tension leaving both of their bodies with that one touch.

“You’re right though. I overreact.” One of his hands had started to wander up Deans back, softly caressing him. It took a few moments for Dean to feel the warmth of grace entering his muscles, helping to alleviate the tension he was feeling. His body became pliant as he melted into his husbands chest even further. “I sometimes forget he’s God. Anytime anything bad happens I just remember him as that fragile little life form in Kelly’s womb. I don’t associate our son as the most powerful being in the universe.”

“But he’s still a child. Even with that fact. And I forget that sometimes.” His hand locked with Cas’s, bringing it up and kissing him tenderly on the knuckles. “I should have paid more attention sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not. I don’t like the idea that you’re sad or don’t trust me with our son because of this.” When Dean felt Cas’s body tense again he started to worry. Thinking he had said something wrong again, but when he felt a hand pull at his chin so gently, tipping it up so their eyes locked together he instantly calmed again.

“Our son?” Although Cas’s voice sounded like it was going to break it was clearly through happiness. Dean decided to lean up and press a chaste kiss against his husbands lips.

“Of course sweetheart. He’s always been our son.” Another chaste kiss, a hand slowly caressing Cas’s side in the most tender way possible. “Can I…tell you a secret?”

“Always Dean.”

“I’ve been so scared that I wouldn’t be a good enough dad to Jack. That’s why whenever you call me his father I just…try and deflect. You’re just so good at it, such a natural. And I never thought I could live up to your expectations of me. I feel like I’ve disappointed you and I’m so sorry my angel. I’m really sorry.” It was Cas’s turn now to press a tender kiss to Deans lips, calm him of any worries about how he was as a father. A tiny whimper of contentment came from Deans lips, happy they were no longer fighting.

“You never disappoint me. You’re a great dad to Jack. And I wouldn’t want to be raising him with anybody else.”

“Thank you Cas.” Those beautiful green eyes filled with water at the confirmation he was a good father. For a little while longer they continued to cuddle up on the bed. Placing tender touches and gentle kisses to each other. Enjoying their own little bubble of happiness after their fight. Knowing that everything would be okay now they were on the same page again.

Suddenly Dean pulled away from Cas, a slightly wild look in his eyes.

“What?” Cas asked, a little worried at the sudden change in his husbands demeanour.

“I told Jack we would watch a film with him.” The wonderful smile and laugh that followed made Dean laugh also.

“Well I guess we better go keep our promises then.” In the blink of an eye he was standing by the bed, hand out to help Dean up, who gratefully accepted it. Cas bought him in for a warm embrace, hands wrapped around his neck as Dean looped his around his husbands waist.

“I love you Dean.”

“I love you to Cas. Let’s never fight again.”

“Deal.” And surprisingly, they never did.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #destiel #castiel #jensen ackles #misha collins #writing #writing community #ao3 stories #jack kline #dean is jacks dad #cute one shot #one shot #arguing husbands

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5ungchan · 2 days

Note

oooo what about sungchan and longing!

YOU LOOK BETTER UNDER THE NIGHTS SHADE

THE SCORE: 16 SONGS | REQUESTS AVAILABLE | FEEDBACK?

WARNINGS: smut— not too graphic, exploring the themes of longing, vulnerability and the complexities of intimate relationships with a subtle poetic flair. engulfed with imagery and sensory details, with some metaphorical language. i tried to make it introspective, but regardless— sungchan and his mean vibes.

AUTHORS NOTE: i haven't written anything new in a hot minute. mostly just working on older drafts, so the purpose of opening requests were to get the gears in my brain turning once more. so thank you for requesting! i hope it's not too shabby for your tastes.

there is nothing more painful than yearning. for what once was ⏤ for what never was anything.

the feeling of bare skin: a tight slap, and a quick snap against the surface of your vulnerable body. the feeling of his hips against your sensitive pelvis. the heat and its vibrant, tender sensations are unstoppable. an insatiable force to be reckoned with.

the constant ripple of feeling so full, the pulsating build that continues to go onwards and onwards. causing an irresistible urge to control the climax that seems to build within your core. twisting and turning, your stomach is absolutely churning. thoughtfully, manicured toes flexing inwards as you magnetize yourself to his body; holding on for dear life.

it's your kaleidoscopic delusions and the visions of him. unreachable, untouchable ⏤ a mind so incredibly far from reality.

it has you skyrocketing towards a certain high, one that leaves you forever wanting more. a smidge of lustrous creativity; an abstract and lewd possibility. yet, a complete dream come true. he was attainable physically, hell; you're half-way there. but he's locked up away, the thoughts inside his mind are unattainable. not for you, not for anyone. crumbling back from the atmosphere, you've fallen back onto the surface. forced to remain eternally grounded.

jung sungchan is an enigma. he won't listen to you as you call out his name. he won't look into your eyes, observing your delicately sculpted face and watching the way the syllables roll off your tongue so sweetly. any other man would beg to hear it come from you, reaching their sweet release merely seconds from hearing you recite such a beautiful sonata of heavy breaths, and short words of affection. and yet, he doesn't flinch when he hears the way your voice cuts off: gasping for air, as a soft, delicate moan makes its way past your lips. the curvature of your breasts lifting upwards in unison with the lungs within your body that seem to be working overtime.

the birth of venus began the moment sungchan had enveloped you within his arms, yet crumbled just as quickly the moment he neglected you. dried lips that should've been kissed, bare from the lack of saliva that should've coated them. all of your beauty painfully neglected as he's buried inches deep within your throbbing cunt.

you could've sworn you forgot the way he looked when he felt so turned on.

the pleasure plastered on his face was incredibly hard to forget, yet, it made you wonder if his eyes still gleamed. was his gaze still glossy, half-lidded, with his eyelashes batting against the grain of his skin? did he still shut his eyes suddenly, groaning in absolute ecstasy the moment he began shuddering with such pleasure?

all you wished for, was to look into those gorgeous, warm eyes of his. gazing into what seemed like the stars encapsulated within his irises, observing the way he became so fragile, rather than stuck in limbo, drifting through a period of toxic masculinity. the emotions that once was, is nothing more than a distant memory. no matter how present his actions were; his emotions were forever stagnant.

his head is leaning over your shoulder. the sound of his forehead occasionally shifting against the fluffiness of your pillow. the wafting smell of his subtle sweat and rather, overpowering smell of cologne. the soft and smooth notes of vanilla and orris butter. he's luxurious in the way he presents himself, even more so seductive with how he moves, and yet, it makes you feel undeserving. his reluctance to even cradle you like the delicate flower you were ⏤ to call out your name. it all solidifies it.

to him, you're nothing.

nothing more than the girl who always happened to be there at the right place, and right time. sungchan doesn't make love to you, he fucks himself into you like he doesn't care. regardless, for as long as he's here, you'll fool yourself into believing he does. he's come this far, hasn't he? far enough to feel how good you are for him. to lay there like the pretty girl you are, allowing him to wallow his thickness into your plunging wetness.

love sick. a complete utter fool.

with each and every thrust, you continue to allow him to torment your body with such dominance. exchanging a slice of your sanity with every movement. it would be a lie to say, he wasn’t addicted to the way you’re body exists with such a visceral filling. a plush pink, frail and plump innocence, sprinkled with such naivety. a filling that just so happened to pair well with his bittersweet, saccharine cream that he adorned your body in.

he's had his fill, yet you're left begging for more. turning your head to press your lips against his neck. soft tongue, pressing against the supple flesh of his jugular as he pushes himself further against your body. subconsciously agreeing to your actions, he moulds your frame into the mattress as you lick at his neck before puckering down to suck on the fragile skin. blistering and bruising at it, your hands make way to his shoulders with your fingernails digging into his flesh. it feels as though you're about to fall once more, holding onto him as if you're life depended on it.

"s-sungchan, you're going to⏤" huffing, a moan escapes past your lips, the words falling out of your mouth in increments, "gonna be the death of me, aren't you?"

your words are met with silence. instead, the sound of the headboard creaking against the wall continues to persist. despite the subtle hesitation in his thrusts as he pauses in between, just so he can pull his hips back and push himself into you harder than before. crying out, your hands make their way towards his hair, gently tugging at the soft, slightly wet strands. effectively shutting you up, but only for a moment.

"'m close," you whimper, as he groans in response. a stutter in his movements as his muscles seem to tremble atop you. "hold onto me tightly!" you protest.

and yet, it's far too late to be saved. you're falling from the sky as sungchan seems to purposely let you go. the way his body stops moving, allowing himself to release himself within you. the spontaneous jolts of his body as he unloads before collapsing to the side. filling you up with so many meaningless sentiments. before promptly removing himself from within you.

he's trying to catch his breath, staring at the dimly lit ceiling before it all comes crashing down. you yearned for him to wrap you in his arms, to allow you to rest your head on his bare chest as you listened to the sound of his heartbeat. the previous nights that were filled with a soft word or two, making his time with you feel so much more heartfelt. yet, he can't help but feel as though you make him claustrophobic. the impending doom of what you'd say next, constantly nagging him to do more than what he already does.

sungchan has had enough. sitting upwards in bed, he turns to look down on you.

"i think we're done here," he bluntly states. "i mean, i don't think i can deal with your whining and nagging. it's as though, what i'm doing, just isn't good enough for you."

his words bring a pang to your chest. your lips part wordlessly as you try to recollect your thoughts and say something, but they're just left speechless, quivering silently. the furrowing of your eyebrows makes the confused expression on your face quite clear. you're trying your best to keep your composure despite feeling completely humiliated in the moment.

"is it so wrong..." you begin, as you pull the bedsheets upwards to cover whatever dignity you had left. "to ask you to love me? to love me back, the way i do you."

"loved by me?" he questions. standing upwards, he begins to messily get dressed, scanning the room around for his belongings, "what, as if i owe it to you?"

you can't help but guffaw. watching as he peers at his phone, checking the time as if you were holding him up.

"you know what? yeah. i do think you owe me at least some sort of reciprocation."

standing upwards, you drag the bedsheet along with you as you approach him. you've become cerebral; completely raw.

"what're you so afraid of sacrificing sungchan?"

sungchan narrows his eyes in your direction, his eyes lifting from his phone as the blue hue illuminates his face. he's cold, appearing almost offended by the audacity you had to ask such a thing.

"for god's sake, don't start up this shit again," groaning, it's clear this had become a habit for the both of you.

"start what? all i want is an answer, a clear fucking answer from you. rather than you saying you're going to always leave, only to come running back," pursing your lips, you can't help but feel like he's finally left a distasteful feeling in your mouth.

gripping the bedsheet tightly around yourself, you watch as he steps forwards. glaring down on you as if you could handle him. pre-maturely confronting him, knowing well enough you wouldn't be able to deal with him.

"fuck...so that's what you want, huh? to be coddled like the fucking baby you are. 'think you're a princess yeah?"

leaning inwards, he comes in so closely. allowing his forehead to press against yours, the tip of his nose just brushing past yours as you feel how hot his breath is against your face. it's abrupt and rough, the way his slightly chapped lips press against yours. a sudden nip at your lip, and he welcomes himself inside, the feeling of his tongue against yours, the intrusive sensation of him kissing you, but doing it only to temporarily satisfy your needs. it feels as though you're about to choke, unable to follow his lead. yet, always complaining about how much you wanted him to give it to you.

the feeling of your body shuddering against his much bigger frame is hard to explain. as goosebumps seem to erupt across the expanse of your skin. sungchan wraps you in his arms, snaking them around your fragile body and squeezing so tightly at your waist. angling his head to push himself further onto you.

“this what you wanted, yeah?” he mumbles in between kisses, the obscene sound of your tongues clashing against each other. the messiness of how his saliva seems to seep into your mouth makes you feel as though he’s swallowing you alive.

the tears begin to gather at your waterline, dripping down your cheeks and hanging on the edge of your jawline as you feel sungchan bring his hand upwards to cup your face. using his thumb to swipe at a few stray tears.

"i know you love me," he coos as he pulls himself away. staring into your eyes, you can't help but feel like you're beginning to grow cold. sungchan was capable of draining your energy — of making you regret every decision you’d ever made.

“…but you can't expect me to love you back."

bringing his hand upwards to push aside a few strands of your hair, he tucks them behind your ear, "not today..."

his slender fingers continue to comb through your hair, as he gazes at you as if you're some doll. a prized possession of his, yet one that's overdue. there was always something more waiting for him. he’s gentle with his actions, but incredibly harsh with his words. expressing himself without a single ounce of remorse.

"...not tomorrow."

"then when?" you choke out. as the tears have become unstoppable, your heart has fallen to the floor, and he seems to continue trampling all over it. over and over again, he continues to fuck with your sanity. having absolutely no regards for you.

sungchan can't help but let out an airy laugh. his lips stretching into a soft smile as he peers at you with such disdain. after all, you’d allowed him to become nothing more than a tainted stain over your purity.

for you, what once was love; to him was never anything.

"for as long as you'll delude yourself into thinking i might change."

#will edit in a bit!#sungchan x reader #riize smut

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im-poe-dameron · 2 days

Text

tell it to my heart

a/n: my final contribution to @sithobiwanevent! i really broke my heart with the second one i wrote, but this one is more fun. i couldn't get the prompt out of my head and well it devolved into something really feral. so i hope y'all enjoy the sith!obi-wan smut and know there is more to come one day.

sith!obi-wan event: inappropriate use of the force

summary: obi-wan turned to the dark side, but his love for you remained. you fell beside him - hand in his and fates intertwined - knowing that one day when the time came his love for you would never waver.

word count: 1.2k+

pairing: sith!obi-wan x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, inappropriate use of the force, obi-wan is filthy, dirty talk, love, choking, messy kisses, fingering, cumeating, he's obsessed with his darling.

He's no longer gentle with his touch. No longer able to caress the softness of your skin without the rough grasp of the man he evolved into. He is unable to see the pain that flickers in your gaze as he grips your cheeks. The tenderness that's faded to a bitter and darkened mind.

The man you once loved—the Jedi you fell to the darkness for—no longer existed. Dragging the softness that once remained to an unmarked grave with him.

"Beautiful," he remarked, fingers digging sharply into your cheeks as yellow irises dragged down your form.

The room is dark; a faint glow of the moon filtered through the chambers you shared. But even that remained enough for him to see you. His hands a heavy press on the curve of your hips; lips hovering your own with a grin. Sometime in the last hour you climbed into his lap and stayed there. Lips dragging along the edge of his jaw.

"My love," he murmured—the voice soothing and calm

If you listened hard enough you would hear the reverence in the lilt of his words, his tone the only gentle piece of him that remained. That alone was reserved for you. The paramour at his side; the one who followed him to hell without a moments hesitation. You killed the light in your own heart to see him smile, as if you were the only thing worth living for.

Obi-Wan knew that you longed for the past. That no matter how hard you tried; she remained. Battering against an already locked door. There would never be a part of you that existed without the Jedi you fought so hard to kill. He could see it in your eyes—the dimmed light he loved for so long burning brighter as the days went on.

"What do you want tonight my lord?" you purred, hips settling over his.

A warm hand settled against your throat; want spilling into your chest. "My fierce Jedi."

You froze, eyes pulling wide. "W-What?"

"I need not repeat myself darling."

"But I'm-"

"Still in there." Something all too familiar slid beneath the tie of his robes that draped over your form. His thumb pressed to the hollow of your throat. "I can feel the light against your soul. So bright."

The whimper that fell past your lips was involuntary. Though the smile against your jaw told you he liked it. You worried that he would be disappointed in how easily the light side of the Force beckoned you closer. How quickly you found yourself slipping back into a past you thought died with him.

But the way he pulled you closer, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip, let you know that your doubts were founded on nothing. Merely a lapse in memory of who still held your heart.

Light or dark, Obi-Wan would love you regardless. A part of him had become consumed by you. Past the point of obsession and need. There would never be a version of him that existed without you. The Sith who'd grown so attached to a Jedi he was willing to kill whoever dared step in the way.

"Don't be afraid," he breathed, feeling the hesitation in your chest. The beat of your heart quicker than minutes prior.

The smooth glide of what you realized were his hands along your thighs, rose to the bare curve of your hips. Yet one glance at his body showed his palms remained around your throat—the other settled at the top of your ass. A way to keep you still for him as he ventured further.

"You think I don't see you."

Reaching out through the Force, his fingers toyed with the flesh of your mound. Thumb brushing along the seam of your already dripping cunt. You gasped, eyes fixed on his relaxed face as he played with you in the depths of his mind. The hand on your throat, pulled you close—lips finding yours, tongue sliding in to lick along your teeth.

"Maker." Your head fell against his, body curving into his touch.

"I see what you've tried to hide from me darling." Dipping further, you felt the breath punch from your lungs when he circled your clit. "You've tried so hard to welcome the darkness. But you can't."

"I can," you whined, hands cupping his jaw. "I will."

"No," he muttered, lips wet against your cheek. "I won't let you."

"F-fuck-" The stimulation on your clit remained as something plunged into your entrance. Squelching loudly in the empty room, filled with panting breaths and soft moans.

The grip on your throat tightened, eyes flying open to see his darkened stare as the pace began to quicken. Pumping in and out of you with rapid strokes, and striking against a spot along your walls that made your vision blur. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as he drank in each expression that flickered across your face.

"I've killed for you my love. I will kill for you. And in return...you will give me back the Jedi I fell in love with."

He wasn't soft with his movements. His mind had become sharp, the entirety of his power now focused on dragging you to a release quicker than you ever experienced before. It didn't build with languid warmth as you were used to. This burned through every nerve in your body. Until you were clutching at his robes—thighs trembling around his hips.

"I-I'm-"

"I know," he cooed, allowing you a second to breathe before his fingers tightened once more. Cutting off your airway entirely. "Let me see your light."

A grind of his hips pushing up into your clit toppled you over the edge. Nails dug sharply into his shoulders, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, as you shook in his hold. Your eyes rolled back painfully and for a moment you wondered if this was his way of sending you to the afterlife. If he truly didn't mean what he said.

Until the light began to creep back in.

"There we go," he whispered against your cheek, releasing you from his hold as you raggedly gasped for air. "Don't taint your soul to stand beside me darling. I will love you regardless."

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as he finally indulged in the soft manner of someone you thought was lost to the depths of endless pain. His fingers dipped into your slick, coating his skin in it before drawing it up to his mouth. The soft moan that left his lips set your body on edge. Your cunt fluttering at the sight of him like this.

"How can I be sure?" You felt the trepidation leak into your heart. The fear that this might not remain at the end of all things.

He smiled, gripping your chin to pull you back to him. "Because you fell to darkness for me.”

Though he didn’t say it, you could see what he wanted to say fringe on the edges of his mind. Entering yours with the swiftness of his love. You fell to the dark side for him, and when the time comes...he would fall into the light with you.

#obi wan kenobi x f!reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x y/n #obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan x y/n #obi wan smut #obi want kenobi smut #obi wan kenobi #my writing

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sleeplessdreamer14 · 2 years

Text

y’all I’m watching the bee movie again for the first time in lord knows how many years and the first 30 seconds of the Vanessa Intervenes score just made me feel things what the hell is happening?

#the melody is just so soft and tender like wtf #I guess it’s to kind of express how barry is feeling in that moment #like he’s amazed at how kind and gentle humans can be #especially since his first impression of them was that they freak out the second they lay eyes on him #and here comes this nice lady just gently carrying him to the window to set him free and all he can do is stare in complete awe #it’s just special to me #my stuff #rambles #bee movie #the bee movie #barry benson #vanessa bloom #spotify #dreamworks

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velvetcrimsonkisses · 9 days

Text

Nanami who drops to his knees the moment he arrives home, the feeling in his chest; indescribable because he knew his wife was upset… so very upset…

He loathed the guilt that clung to him as he had to work late and miss the date they planned just a few days prior. The front door creaked open as you heard him tiredly shuffle in, tossing his keys onto the counter with a bit more force than he intended. He rolled his neck side to side, in a futile attempt to release some of the stiffness in his muscles. He kicks off his shoes, not bothering to bend down and untie the laces, before commencing his walk of shame to your shared bedroom.

Each step felt heavier, causing his heart to only beat faster every second. A thin sheet of sweat began to form on his brow as he approached closer and closer to the room. His fingers, diligently thread into his tie to pull it undone, tossing it mindlessly on the floor. A few buttons of his shirt came undone but it did nothing to relieve the growing tightness in his chest. He hesitantly reached for the door knob, and with a deep breath he opened the door as slowly as possible.

And there you were. The soft light of the room revealed your silhouette as you sat up on the bed, your arms crossed over your chest tightly, as your eyes bored into him like daggers. No, you weren’t actually upset and he had obviously a good reason for his absence, but it was the first time he missed something like this– and the sting of it lingered in the room.

He tentatively stepped closer to you, his expression full of guilt and desperation, like a puppy who had been scolded. The weight of an unspoken apology creeping on him.

“Darling… I’m sorry," he whispered, barely audible. But he knew it wasn’t enough. No reaction from you, you wouldn't even turn to look at him, the silence between the both of you was suffocating. His fingers graze over your hand as his knees buckled, threatening to give away under the weight of guilt.

He falls to his knees before you, taking your hand in his. “Please, look at me, honey…” pleading eyes looking up at you, raw emotion in his voice as he presses a soft kiss on your delicate hand. His fingers intertwined with yours as you finally grace him with your gaze, the eyes he so dearly loved finally on him. His grip was soft yet pleading, almost as if he was afraid you’d let go.

“I feel terrible…” kiss “It will never…” kiss “happen again…” kiss

Each one of his kisses had you in trance and you truly believed him, Nanami wasn’t the man to tell you empty words. You look down at the mess of the man on his knees for you, your hand comes to his cheek, caressing it.

“I forgive you…” You utter, as you look at him, into his eyes of honey.

Those three words…

That was all he needed to hear. His breath was caught in his throat and for a moment he just stared at you before taking a deep breath. Relief washes over him and all the guilt slowly disappears. His head drops into your thighs and rests there a moment, still holding your hands.

“I will spend an eternity making it up to you…” he finally speaks up. His statement makes you smile. You thought he was joking but he wasn’t.

“Starting now,” he declares, a spark of confidence returning to his body.

Without breaking eye contact, he lowered his head down, his lips brushing softly against your knees. His kisses are tender and calculated. He knew exactly what he was doing. His lips trailed along your thighs, the warmth of his breath sending soft shivers up your skin.

You sighed softly, your fingers threading through his hair, delicately pushing it back from his face. You wanted to see him, to really look at him, at the man you loved now between your legs.

His kisses trailed higher and higher. Nanami was a smart man. He knew just what to do and how to ease the weight of the situation from your mind, to make you forget.

“You’re so gorgeous” He mumbles in between kisses. A red tint creeping up on your face at those simple words. “But you know that already, don’t you?” he presses a kiss just below your navel. “I tell you everyday…” He whispers, right into the heat between your legs. Your back arches up off the mattress and he knew he just had to have you already.

“May I?” he asks, his pointer finger hovering right over where you needed him most. You gave him a quick nod and that was all he needed. He slowly slides your panties down your legs before begging to devour you, entirely.

Nanami learned everything that made his pretty girl feel good, and he planned to do everything tonight. Every flick of his skilled tongue had you in a chokehold, the way he held your legs open with his strong arms all while still on his knees. He explored every inch of you, lapping up everything you gave him, his fingers joining in to only make you feel that much better.

Orgasm after orgasm had your mind hazy but Nanami had to make sure you knew he was sorry. And he did make good on his promise. He never ever forgot again.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami drabbles #kento nanami #nanamin #nanami smut #jjk nanami #nanami kento x reader #kento smut #kento x reader #jjk kento #nanami x reader smut #nanami x y/n #BRO I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS ALL DAYYYG

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yawnderu · 24 days

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A one-night stand with Simon completely ruins you for any other man.

His hands are forever tainted with blood and sin, yet despite the callouses adorning the rough skin, Simon’s touch is uncharacteristically gentle for someone his size, nearing a dangerous softness that has your heart beating faster by the second.

His grip on your hips tightens, pulling you down onto his thick, hard cock, the flared tip slamming into the depths of your cunt, every single sensitive spot stimulated, the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing through the dimly lit room, mingling with your moans.

“Look at you.” His deep voice is thick with approval, tired eyes tracing the line of your collarbone, the swell of your tits, the curve of your waist, admiring you like you're nothing short of a work of art. So fucking perfect, and all his for the night.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.” More than death’s instrument, Simon Riley is just a man, unable to resist temptation— unable to resist the pleading look in your eyes, silently begging for more. His grip on your hips falters, one of his hands trailing up your sweaty, warm skin, pulling you down until your face finds shelter on the crook of his neck, your soft lips hovering over his pulse, a silent display of trust given with such ease to a complete stranger.

He pulled back and thrust inside you again, setting a less brutal rhythm, nothing in his hazy mind but the goal of making you cum first. He couldn’t help but reach between your bodies, applying light pressure on your swollen clit as he fucked you deeper, his thick tip ramming against your cervix over and over, his breath hot against your skin with each groan leaving his lips.

His free hand comes up to grasp your jaw, fingers lightly digging into the skin as he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a primal dance of lust. The bitter taste of tobacco and bourbon in his saliva makes you whine, your soft hands coming up to cup his cheeks, half-lidded brown eyes meeting your gaze when you pull away.

“Fuck… gonna cum.” Simon’s breath grows heavier at the pure hunger in your eyes, dancing along a vulnerability he wasn’t used to. Amid the pleasure coiling in your stomach, your hips begin to move to match his intense pace, meeting his thrusts halfway. Simon’s thumb presses harder against your swollen clit, circling it slowly, your walls tightening around his aching cock, dragging a quiet, muffled moan out of him.

“That’s it, sweetheart, cum for me.” Simon’s voice quivers as he lets out a low groan, his free hand going down to grab a handful of your ass, the fat and muscle seeping through his fingers when he squeezes. He pushes deeper into you, trying to reach that blissful peak you both crave. His thrusts grow more desperate, a familiar tightness in his lower stomach threatening to make him cum, using your body as leverage to fuck into you harder, deeper.

“Oh… oh, fuck.” His cock twitches at your whiny moans, your walls growing even tighter around him, eyes rolling back as you finally collapse on top of him, heavy breaths leaving those soft lips he has grown to adore. Simon follows right after, unable to hold himself back, burying his cock inside you as deep as possible. Ropes of thick, hot cum paint your insides, marking you as his, even if only for that night.

“You okay?” He tucked your face into his neck, allowing you to breathe in his scent— cigarettes, gunpowder, and the faint smell of licorice. He leaned down, pressing tender kisses all over your forehead and cheeks, not minding the thin layer of sweat coating your skin. His hands are warm and gentle, running up and down your back as you both catch your breath, giving you time to recover.

“Mhm.” He pulled out of you slowly, tugging you into his side, his hand drifting down to your belly, rubbing circles on the tender skin to soothe you, his other hand pulling you closer, the aftermath of your passion lingering between you. Your fingers linger on his side, hesitantly running up and down, feeling the multiple bumps from old scars, gently rubbing a particularly bad set over his ribs. His breath hitches, yet he remains quiet, allowing you to have all of him.

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chosok-amo · 1 month

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SHUT UP, STOP IT!

summary. there is nothing better than make-up sex after you and your two lovely boyfriends, GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU. . . having an argument.

wc. 7,6k | [☆] MASTERLIST | part. 1

warning. established relationship, boyfriends! satosugu, petnames, unprotected/raw sex, double penetration, praise kink, anal, mentioned of few round.

you look at geto, noticing the lingering guilt in his eyes. geto’s gaze meets yours, his eyes reflecting the lingering guilt. “come here,” you say softly. when you tell him to come closer, he moves to kneel between your legs, his expression still marked by regret.

as you slip his long hair behind his ear, your touch is gentle and reassuring. “you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” you say softly, your voice filled with understanding. “i know you care deeply, and that’s why this hurts. but you’re not alone in this.”

geto's shoulders slump at your words, the weight of his guilt visibly lessening. his eyes stay fixed on yours, the regret in them slowly being replaced by a soft vulnerability.

he leans into your touch, his head tilting slightly involuntarily at the touch of your fingers to his hair. “i know,” he mutters, his voice still heavy with guilt. “i just wish i hadn't let it get this bad.” geto’s voice is soft, the regret and guilt audible in it. “i just… i just can’t forgive myself for causing you pain,” he murmurs, his voice strained.

you give him a reassuring smile, your voice gentle. “i’m not in pain anymore, so you can stop feeling guilty,” you say softly. “we’ve talked things out, and we’re moving forward. it’s okay to let go of that guilt now. we’re okay.”

geto’s eyes search yours, the guilt still visible but diminishing by the second. he nods slowly, his expression taut but hopeful. he speaks softly, his voice still laced slightly with regret. “i know. but i just… it’s hard to shake this feeling, you know? it’s like a knot in my chest that won’t loosen.”

so you lean down and gently kiss his chest, then move to his neck and jaw, your touch tender and soothing. each kiss is a silent reassurance, conveying that you're okay now and that you're not mad at him anymore. your actions are meant to comfort and ease the lingering regret he feels, showing him through your touch that things are healing.

his breath hitches at the feel of your lips on his chest, his body tensing for a brief moment before melting into your touch. each press of your lips sends waves of comfort through him, the knot in his chest loosening with every gentle kiss. he wraps his arms around your back, pulling you closer, his grip tight and unyielding. when your lips reach his jaw, he tilts his head to give you better access, his eyes fluttering shut.

you pull away slightly, your hands still resting gently on his shoulders. you look into his eyes with a soft, reassuring gaze. “don’t feel guilty anymore,” you say gently. “we’re okay. let go of that weight you’re carrying. we’re moving forward together.” his eyes open slowly, meeting yours. the guilt in his eyes has lessened even more, replaced by a deep vulnerability and newfound trust. he nods slowly, his hands gently pulling you even closer to him.

he leans his forehead against yours, his voice soft and sincere. “i’m trying, i promise,” he murmurs. “i’m trying to let it go. it’s just… it’s just hard, sometimes.” you let out a sight. geto suguru can be stubborn when he wants to.

“shut up, stop it,” you softly murmur. you gently move your hands from his shoulders to his neck, guiding him closer. “come here,” you whisper softly, pulling him towards you until your lips touch his. he smiles faintly at your soft command, his body willingly moved closer to yours. he doesn’t protest when you gently pull him closer, his eyes closing instinctively as your lips meet his.

the kiss starts slow and hesitant, his body tense against yours as if he’s expecting you to pull away at any second. but gradually, his lips soften, the tension in his body melting away as he surrenders to the tender connection. as geto continues to lean towards you, your back gently presses against gojo’s firm chest. gojo's arms instinctively wrap around you from behind, his presence a comforting anchor as you and geto share a tender kiss. the closeness between all three of you creates a cocoon of warmth and reassurance.

with you snuggled between them, their bodies pressed closely against yours, a sense of security washes over you. gojo’s firm chest supports your back, while geto’s muscular arms hold you firmly in place, trapping you in a comforting embrace. the kiss between you and geto deepens, the heat between you slowly building, while gojo’s hands gently caresses your sides and lower back.

the kiss continues, geto’s actions growing bolder with each passing moment. his mouth becomes more urgent, his hands gripping you tighter and pulling you closer to him, like he’s desperate to make up for lost time. you let out a soft moan in his lips.

the sound of your soft moan in his lips triggers something inside of him. he deepens the kiss, his mouth growing more eager against yours, while his hands grip you even tighter, pulling you as closely as possible against him. gojo’s hands on your sides and backside continue to caress you, his own lips slowly finding their way to your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

the combined sensations of geto’s lips on yours and gojo’s lips on your neck send shivers down your spine, your senses overwhelmed by the dual assault of their mouths. the three of you are a tangle of limbs and sensations, the heat between you growing with each passing second. geto’s tongue gently probes your lips, seeking entry into your mouth, as gojo’s lips find a sensitive spot on your neck, his teeth gently nipping at your skin.

your soft moans and gasps between them only seem to fuel their desire, their mouths growing more demanding and insistent. geto’s tongue gently explores your mouth, while gojo’s lips continue to trace a path of kisses and nips down your neck. gojo’s hands on your sides become even more possessive, each touch leaving a trail of heat on your skin.

gojo’s lips on your neck are now firmer, his kisses turning into soft bites, his teeth gently nipping and worrying the sensitive skin. his hands remain firmly on your sides, while his fingers occasionally digging into your flesh, claiming ownership.

geto’s tongue dances in your mouth, his kisses growing more insistent, as if he’s desperate to taste as much of you as possible. his hands, meanwhile, have found their way to the underside of your thighs, slowly pulling them apart. geto pulls away from your lips to go down to your cheeks, to your jaw and giving it a soft bite before it lands to another side of your neck.

his mouth on your neck feels as skilled as gojo’s, leaving a trail of heat and desire in its wake. his teeth gently nibble at your skin before his lips find the sensitive area behind your ear, his breath hot against it. gojo’s lips, meanwhile, have moved to the other side of your neck, his hands sliding under your shirt in search of skin, his touch deliberate and possessive. you turn your head to gojo, hunger for his lips also— the lips you haven't been kissed for a weeks.

gojo senses your turn towards him, his eyes meeting yours as his hands under your shirt pause. a faint smile tugs at his lips before he claims your mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. his lips move against yours urgently, his tongue quickly slipping into your mouth as one hand on your side moves to your chin, tilting your head back slightly to deepen the kiss even further.

gojo’s kiss is frantic and possessive, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as if he’s desperate to reclaim what he’d been forced to give up for the past two weeks. his hand on your chin holds your head in place, his grip firm but not uncomfortable, while his other hand under your shirt slowly moves up, caressing your bare stomach.

geto’s mouth continues its assault on the other side of your neck, his teeth and lips leaving a trail of heat and want across your flesh. but his hands remain on your thighs, slowly spreading them apart, his fingers gently digging into your skin.

geto’s mouth leaves a scorching path along your neck, his teeth and lips claiming every inch of your skin with a mix of possessiveness and desperation. his hands, gripping your thighs so tightly, gradually spread your legs apart, his fingers digging softly into your flesh as he positions himself between them.

he mutters softly against your skin, his breath hot and urgent, “god, i’ve missed this. missed feeling you like this.” meanwhile, gojo’s kisses have become even more hungry, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth as if he’s trying to make up for the time he’s lost. his hand on your stomach moves upward, closer to your chest, his fingers gently tracing the outlines of your curves.

gojo’s tongue explores your mouth urgently, each stroke of it sending waves of heat through your body. his hand on your stomach ascends up to your chest, his fingers tracing the contours of your curves, mapping out every dip and rise of your body. he breaks the kiss, his lips moving down to your neck, his voice low and raw with desire. “i’ve missed the taste of you.”

as gojo’s lips find a sensitive spot on your neck, geto resumes the attention to your collarbone, his teeth gently nibbling on the skin. his hands continue to grip your thighs, holding you in place, his touch both gentle but firm and unyieldingly possessive. gojo’s lips make their way to your ear, his warm breath against the shell sending shivers down your spine. “god, I’ve missed the sound of your moans,” he mutters, his voice rough with longing.

your moans in response to his words only seem to fuel gojo’s fire further. his lips find their way back to your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin with a little more force, while one hand gently cups your breast, his touch both claiming and gentle. geto, meanwhile, moves his attention to your jaw, his kisses becoming more urgent as he nips and sucks at the soft skin. his hands on your thighs gently spread them further apart, his grip unyielding but not harsh.

while gojo’s tongue draws a path of heat across your neck, geto’s mouth travels to the curve of your shoulder, his teeth and lips leaving a trail of wet kisses in its wake. one of his hands gently guides your thigh around his waist, as he presses himself closer to you, his body flush against yours. gojo’s lips find their way back to your ear, his voice a low, urgent whisper. “i need to taste you, god i need to taste you.”

you moan, letting your head fall back to his shoulder for a second. “i need you,” you murmur between your moan. your hands digging into their skins, desperate for them. the sound of your moan and your desperate words seem to ignite a fire within both of them.

gojo’s grip on your body tightens, his body pressing closer against you as if he’s desperate to mold himself against you. his voice is low and gravelly, filled with need. “god, baby, the way you sound…”

geto’s breath against your skin is warm and heavy, his body shuddering slightly as he presses himself against you, his hands gripping your thigh even tighter. “say it again,” he mutters, his voice strained. “say you need us.”

your eyes fluster open as you look at them. they can see a little bit of your saliva escape from the corner of your lips. “i need you,” you repeat, whimpering as if you're pleading to them. “please..” you puff a breathless moan.

the sight of you, breathless and pleading, your eyes heavy with desire and need, sends a ripple of heat through both of them. gojo’s eyes dart between yours, his breath coming in short gasps. he cups your face in his hand, his thumb gently wiping the saliva from the corner of your mouth. his voice is low and gravelly when he speaks, “we can’t say no when you beg like that.”

geto, meanwhile, lets out a low growl, his body shuddering against you, his hands gripping your thigh in a possessive grip. gojo’s lips find their way back to your neck, his kisses a mixture of soft and hungry, while geto’s mouth makes a trail of soft bites and kisses down your collarbone, his hands slowly pulling at the edges of your shirt.

“i need to feel your skin on mine,” gojo mutters between kisses, his voice strained with restraint. “i need to feel all of you.”

gojo quickly pulls your shirt off over your head before flinging it away, his eyes drinking in the sight of your bare skin. his hands gently glide over your chest, the touch of his fingers leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

both of them work together to divest you of the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath them. but there is no shame in being seen like this by them— only a deep sense of trust and safety. you know they would never do anything to hurt you.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” gojo murmurs, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. geto hums in agreement, nipping lightly at your earlobe before trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

at the same time, geto pulls away and his eyes roam across your body, his gaze heavy and hungry. he sits back slightly, his hands slowly sliding your skirt up, revealing your underwear.

geto’s hands on your thigh slowly slide to the front, his fingers gently tracing the edge of your underwear. “can we take this off?” geto’s voice is a low, strained question. “god, we need to see all of you.”

you nod, “yes.”

they need no further persuasion.

gojo’s hands continue to explore your body, his fingers gently tracing each dip and rise of your skin. his lips return to your neck, his mouth hot and hungry against your skin.

“you’re so beautiful,” he mutters between kisses. “so damn beautiful.”

geto, meanwhile, slowly peels your skirt off, his fingers trailing across your thighs in the process. his eyes never leave you, his gaze a mix of desire and awe. once your skirt is off, his hands move back to your thighs, his grip gentle but unyieldingly possessive.

geto leans forward, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, right above where your legs meet. his hands slip underneath your panties, slowly pushing them down until they fall away completely. he looks up at you then, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of your bare pussy.

gojo, for his part, continues to worship your neck and shoulders with his mouth, his hands moving lower to cup your breasts, squeezing gently. his thumbs brush over your hardened nipples, causing you to gasp and arch into his touch. geto’s mouth finally descends upon your pussy, his tongue lapping at your folds before delving inside you. he groans around you, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure through your entire body.

gojo, meanwhile, lifts one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking gently on the nipple while rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger. his free hand moves down to join geto’s, his fingers joining in on the pleasuring of your clit.

the sensation of two sets of hands and mouths working in tandem on your body is overwhelming, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“oh god—” the air got knocked out of your lung. your one hand gripped tightly on the edge of the couch underneath you while the other held to gojo's neck. gojo smiles against your breast, the curve of his lips evident even as he continues to suckle at your nipple. his fingers pinch and roll the other, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core.

geto doubles his efforts, his tongue swirling around your clit before plunging back inside you. he sucks hard on the bundle of nerves, his nose nudging against your clit with each thrust of his tongue.

your hips buck involuntarily, grinding yourself harder against geto’s face. you can feel your orgasm building rapidly, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter with each passing second. you let out a strangled moan, your nails digging into gojo’s shoulder.

“that’s it baby,” gojo coos, his voice vibrating against your skin. “let go.”

“i miss your taste so much, baby,” geto murmur on your fold, sending a jolt of vibration through your body. as you sinking more to his chest, gojo can feel your body trembling in front of him. gojo releases your breast with a pop, his eyes locking onto yours as he watches you come undone. “come on, sweetheart,” he urges, his voice dripping with affection and desire, “let us have you.”

at the same moment, geto surges forward, his mouth closing over your clit in a fierce suction. his tongue lashes at the sensitive bud as he devours you whole, swallowing your cries of ecstasy. “oh. . . suguru— please..” another moan tear from your throat, filling the air in your living room.

the dual assault proves too much, and you shatter apart, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. your body convulses, your juices flooding geto's eager mouth as he drinks you in greedily.

gojo catches you as you slump against him, cradling you close as he peppers your neck and jaw with soft kisses. “that's it, baby,” he whispers, his voice filled with pride and adoration. “you're so fucking perfect.” as you come down from your high, geto pulls back with a satisfied hum, his mouth glistening wetly. he laps at your folds once more, cleaning you thoroughly before pulling away entirely.

gojo, still holding you close, shifts slightly to give geto room to move. his own body is slick with sweat, the fabric of his clothing clinging uncomfortably to his skin. despite everything, he manages a small smile at the sight of your flushed and panting form.

“you were amazing,” he murmurs into your ear, his voice thick with approval and desire. “we could watch you come all day.” geto smirks up at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief. he rises from his position between your spread legs, his hands lingering on your thighs for a brief moment before he stands fully.

he turns towards gojo, leaning in to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. his hands move to grip gojo's waist, pulling him closer as he explores the depths of his mouth with his tongue.

meanwhile, gojo's hands move to hold onto geto, one hand resting on his hip while the other trails down his chest and abdomen. he breaks the kiss only when he needs to catch his breath, a soft sigh escaping his lips. you lean against the couch as you watch your two boyfriends kissing each other in hunger, like they are finally feel alive after the weeks of torture because of the fight the three of you have this past weeks.

the sight of them together sends a fresh wave of arousal through you, your spent body already beginning to stir with renewed interest. you shift slightly on the couch, spreading your legs wider in silent invitation.

as if sensing your movement, both men break their kiss, turning to look at you with matching expressions of heat and longing. gojo reaches out a hand, beckoning you closer. “come here, sweetheart,” he says, his voice low and rough with desire, “let us show you how much we've missed you.”

as you make your way over to them, geto and gojo exchange a heated glance, communicating silently. they step closer to each other, their bodies molding together perfectly. geto's hands slip under gojo's shirt, pushing it up and over his head before tossing it aside carelessly. he does the same with his own clothes, leaving them both bare from the waist up.

they continue to kiss deeply as they strip each other, hands roaming freely over newly exposed skin. when they are both naked, they take a moment to just drink in the sight of each other— the defined muscles, the flushed skin, the straining erections. then they converge on you again, surrounding you in a cocoon of heat and hardness and love.

gojo's arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you flush against his chest as he nuzzles into your hair. his cock presses insistently against your ass, hot and hard and ready.

geto, meanwhile, kneads at your breasts, his palms sending sparks of pleasure through your sensitive flesh. he captures one of your nipples between his teeth, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. their combined attentions send a rush of desire coursing through you, your body responding eagerly to their touches. you find yourself arching into gojo's embrace, pushing back against his erection, while also pressing your breasts further into geto's grasp.

the sensations are almost overwhelming, but in the best possible way. you can feel the tension building between you once more, the promise of another explosive climax on the horizon. and this time, you won't be alone...

gojo's hands slide down your sides, tracing the curves of your hips before settling on your thighs. he gives them a firm squeeze, urging them apart as he aligns himself with your entrance. with a low growl of desire, he pushes inside you slowly, relishing the tight clench of your walls around his throbbing length. every inch that he sinks deeper sends ripples of pleasure through both of you.

“oh, god..” you mumble the moment you feel gojo's cock twitching inside you making your eyes flickering for a second.

meanwhile, geto continues to lavish attention on your breasts, his mouth moving lower to tease at your nipples with soft flicks of his tongue. he pinches and rolls the hardened buds between his fingers, coaxing even more delicious pain into your pleasure-soaked senses.

the double stimulation is nearly unbearable, but you don't want it to stop. the cause of gojo's action you instantly wrapping your arms around geto's shoulder, looking for a support as gojo continues to fucking you from behind while standing. “o-oh,” you stammered, “i-i miss your dick so much,” you added between your moan.

“fuck, i missed this too baby,” gojo groans, his hips snapping forward to bury himself deep inside you. “missed feeling your tight little pussy squeezing my cock.” his words are punctuated by the sound of skin slapping against skin, the obscene noise filling the room along with your moans and gasps. he sets a relentless pace, pounding into you with all the pent-up frustration and longing of the past weeks.

geto, not wanting to be left out, takes advantage of your new position to trail kisses down your body. he licks a path across your collarbone, pausing to nip lightly at the tender flesh. then he moves lower, laving attention on your nipples once more before continuing his descent.

geto doesn't pause until he's kneeling in front of you, his mouth hovering just above your most sensitive spot. he looks up at you with dark lust-filled eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in anticipation. then, without warning, he dives in, his tongue delving deep into your folds to taste you anew. he savors your flavor, drinking in every drop of your essence as if it's the most exquisite delicacy.

meanwhile, gojo grips your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrusts harder and faster. each stroke hits a spot deep within you, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your entire being. the dual assault leaves you teetering on the edge of obliviation once more, your climax building quickly beneath the skilled ministrations of both men.

“f-fuck— ah!” you low scream a shaking moan. your hand tugging harshly on geto's long hair while the other tugging the back of his head for support. they can feel your body shaking on their skin.

the sensation of your nails scraping down his scalp sends a jolt straight to geto's cock, hardening it even further. he doubles his efforts, his tongue swirling around your clit with abandon while two fingers plunge into your dripping cunt. he watches as you come undone, your whole body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. your juices coat his face, the tangy sweetness driving him wilder.

meanwhile, gojo keeps pistoning into you relentlessly, using your trembling form as an anchor to pull himself even deeper. his grunts fill the air, echoing your cries as he chases his own release. the sight of you writhing between them, lost in pleasure... it's too much for either man to bear. with a shared groan of satisfaction, they reach their peaks simultaneously.

with a final powerful thrust, gojo spills himself inside you, his seed filling your welcoming warmth. his cum spurts forth in thick ropes, marking you as his once more. at the same time, geto laps up every last drop of your release, his tongue working tirelessly to milk every tremor from your quivering body. when he feels your spasms subside, he pulls away reluctantly, licking his lips with a satisfied smirk.

gojo collapses beside you on the couch, panting heavily as he recover from his intense exertions. their chests rise and fall rapidly, slick with sweat from their vigorous lovemaking session. as the aftershocks ripple through your body, contentment washes over you. you snuggle closer to geto and gojo, drawing comfort from their presence as well as satisfaction from what just happened.

your head rests against geto's bare sweaty chest, seeing how his cock still stands straight— his angry red tip spitting his pre-cum each second. your hands move to grasp his cock into your hands, slowly moving it up and down as you look up to him. geto lets out a low groan as your small hand wraps around his girth, stroking him with practiced ease. his hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction from your touch.

when you move to straddle his lap, he grasps your thighs firmly, guiding you onto his erect member. aided by your slickness, you sink down onto him easily, taking him fully inside you once again.

gojo watches with hooded eyes from where he lies sprawled nearby, a lazy smile playing on his lips. “damn, i love watching you ride our boyfriend like that,” he murmurs appreciatively. with a playful wink in gojo's direction, geto threads his fingers through your hair and begins to guide your movements. he teaches you how to bounce atop him, each downward stroke hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your closed eyelids.

as much as you love having his tongue on your pussy, you need his cock too. your nails digging into geto's torso as you bounce slowly, enjoying every single vein of his cock on your velvet wall. “f-fuck, is your dick always this big?” you ask between your whining and moaning. the week of being ignored almost makes you forget how big his cock is.

“of course it is,” geto chuckles, his voice low and husky with arousal. “i wouldn't be able to satisfy such a greedy little thing as you otherwise.” his hips rise to meet yours on each downward stroke, thrusting upward to meet you halfway. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room once more, punctuating your whines and moans.

gojo shifts lazily on the couch, propping himself up on one elbow to watch the show. he smirks at your question about geto's size. “he might have mentioned something about it being larger than average during our training sessions,” he teases, winking at you suggestively.

your body responds eagerly to geto's every movement, your inner walls clenching around him rhythmically. his grip on your hips tightens as he helps set the rhythm, each thrust pushing you further down onto his shaft. the angle allows him to hit that sweet spot inside you perfectly, making your toes curl and your breath hitch.

“feel good?” he asks, leaning up to capture one of your nipples between his teeth. he bites gently, adding another layer of sensation to the mix.

you mindlessly throwing your body back, knowing geto would always catch you— and he did, instinctively, his muscular arm wrapped around your waist in instant. your eyes flutter shut, “oh god, it so good— fu—ah! fucking good,” you whimper. geto releases your nipple with a soft pop, trailing his lips up your neck to whisper hotly in your ear. “that's right, baby. take what you need from me."

he grips your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to gain better access as he pounds into you with renewed vigor. the couch creaks under the force of his thrusts, the sound mingling with your desperate moans.

gojo watches intently, his own cock twitching with interest. he reaches out to palm himself, giving his shaft slow strokes as he drinks in the erotic spectacle unfolding before him. “you're so beautiful when you let loose like this,” gojo murmurs, his gaze locked on your flushed face and heaving breasts, “can't wait to see you take both of us at once.”

geto trailing his lips up your neck before pulling away and leaning against the couch. he grips your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to gain better access as he pounds into you with renewed vigor. the couch creaks under the force of his thrusts, the sound mingling with your desperate moans.

they both watch you with hunger as you ride geto's cock. your lips tear another for another moan, whine, and whimper. as you continue to bounce on geto's cock, he holds your hips steady, changing the angle slightly to aim for that special spot inside you. his pelvis grinds against yours with each downward stroke, ensuring he stimulates your clit with every thrust.

geto's breath comes faster, growing ragged as he nears his peak. one hand moves to caress your breast, kneading the supple mound roughly. he pinches and rolls your hardened nipple between his fingers, heightening your pleasure.

“fuck, i'm close,” geto grits out through clenched teeth. “want you to come for me first, though. soak my cock like a good girl.” gojo nods approvingly at his friend's words, giving himself a few more firm strokes as he continues to admire your erotic display. “let go for us, baby,” gojo murmur as he lean closer to your breast.

“oh, my god—” you whining, eyebrows furrowed together. your nails scratching geto's chest as you start to feel your legs trembling— trying so hard to hold your scream.

geto can tell you're close, your inner walls tightening around him in waves. he quickens his pace, slamming up into you with abandon. each thrust hits that sweet spot deep within you, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“that's it, babe. come all over my cock,” he encourages, his voice rough with lust. his other hand snakes around to find your swollen clit, rubbing circles over it with just enough pressure to tip you over the edge. with a loud cry, you finally surrender to the overwhelming sensations ripping through you. your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave, your inner muscles spasming wildly around geto’s throbbing length.

the feeling of your warm release coating his cock triggers his own orgasm moments later. with a guttural groan, he spills himself inside you once more, filling you up with his hot seed.

as your orgasm subsides, geto cradles you against his chest, holding you close as your breathing slows. he strokes your hair soothingly, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead. you rest your head against his chest, trying to catch your breath as your gaze with gojo's one who's looking at you smiling. geto hold you close, refuse to let you go as you cockwarming him.

“mhm,” geto hums softly, nuzzling into your hair. his cock twitches inside you, already starting to soften now that he's filled you to the brim with his cum. he whispers into your ear, “but we're not done yet, baby.”

as if to prove his point, geto rolls his hips underneath you, making sure every last drop of semen is thoroughly coated inside your soaking wet pussy. the added warmth only makes it easier for him to keep hard despite coming just minutes ago.

next to you, gojo chuckles softly. he rises from the couch, his erection still prominent despite his recent masturbation session— his own erection still rock-hard and leaking precum. he approaches you both, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “now for round three,” geto promises, already starting to harden again inside you. gojo stand behind you, as the black-haired reposition himself and you that still on his lap to be more comfortable and easy for gojo to reach.

you cried a protest, trying to wiggle your way out of them, already feeling sore, but they persistence. they can't help it but to craving for you. they haven't seen you for a week, and the fight and all the ignoring you ordeal make it even harder for them not to ruin you, their pretty little girlfriend.

you are no better, you miss them so much, especially having the feeling of them being inside you. but you can't help but to mumble a no, already can't shake the feeling of two of them being inside you at the same time. the thought itself already overwhelmed you.

geto and gojo exchange a look, their expressions mirroring each other's determination. they know you're sore, but they also know how much you crave their touch after being apart for so long.

“shh, it's okay, baby,” geto coos, stroking your cheek gently. his large hands gives your rear an affectionate squeeze, refusing to budge. “don't worry, sweetheart,” he coos reassuringly, “we'll go nice and slow. just relax and let us take care of you.”

true to his word, geto resumes his lazy thrusts, keeping the pace leisurely. it allows you to adjust to the stretch of having both their girthy cocks buried inside you simultaneously.

gojo takes advantage of your pliant state, lining himself up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, inch by delicious inch, until he's fully sheathed within your welcoming heat. “mmm, so tight,” he praises breathlessly, giving you a moment to acclimate to the dual penetration.

both men hold back, determined to let you dictate the pace this time. gojo wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer against him. “just relax and let us worship you properly,” he murmurs into your ear.

“oh god, oh god, fuck—” you let out a loud curse.

your back arch sharply towards gojo until you shoulders touching his. you feel so full of their cock inside you at the same time. stuffing you so well making your head dizzy and spinning.

their combined girth stretches you wide, filling you to the brim with their thick lengths. every small movement sends waves of pleasure rippling through your body, making it difficult to think straight.

“fuck baby, so tight...” geto groans beneath you, his eyes glazing over with desire. his hands grip your hips tightly as he starts to move again, setting a languid rhythm that has you gasping for air.

gojo mirrors his movements, sliding in and out of you in sync with geto. his breath hitches in his throat, a low growl escaping from deep within his chest. “jesus christ... you're amazing,” he murmurs into your ear, pressing heated kisses along the curve of your neck.

the double penetration is intense—the sensation unlike anything you've ever experienced before—but there's something undeniably thrilling about it too.

together, they begin to move, synchronizing their thrusts to create a rhythm designed to drive you wild. their hips rock back and forth in tandem, each stroke hitting that perfect spot inside you. the sensation is overwhelming, but in the best possible way—it feels incredible.

“b-baby,” you stammer from the pleasure. you can barely think straight, lost in the blissful haze enveloping you. every inch of your skin tingles with pleasure, every nerve ending alive with sensation. your mind goes blank except for the relentless pounding of their cocks against your sensitive insides.

your one arm reaches behind, grasping at nothing before you get a chance to hold gojo's neck desperately for a support, want him as close to you as he can be. “so g-good baby, don't— oh! stop,” you whimper.

feeling your grip tighten around his neck, gojo lets out a low chuckle. “that's what i thought you'd say,” he murmurs teasingly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. their synchronized thrusts continue unabated, driving deeper and harder with each passing second. the dual stimulation is almost unbearable—the pleasure building within you exponentially.

geto groans beneath you, his hands roaming over your curves with renewed vigor. “god damn... you're so fucking sexy when you're squirming like that,” he praises huskily.

despite your protests, neither man seems inclined to stop anytime soon. instead, they pick up the pace slightly—each stroke now punctuated by a sharp intake of breath from either side of you. the dual assault on your senses is almost too much to handle. the steady rhythm of their thrusts, the feel of their thick cocks stretching you wide, it's all too much. you can hardly breathe, let alone form coherent sentences.

geto grunts under you, his thrusts growing more erratic as he chases his impending release. “fuck. . . i'm gonna—!” he warns breathlessly, reaching down between them to rub at your swollen clit in desperate attempt to push you over the edge right along with him.

gojo moans loudly, his grip on your waist tightening. “so fucking good... you're so damn tight,” he groans, bucking his hips harder into yours. the sensation of your snug heat surrounding his dick is driving him crazy—every stroke is pure ecstasy.

“baby. . . you're so fucking tight around our cocks,” gojo grunts out between pants, nibbling to your shoulder and neck hungrily— he just can't get enough of you, the sight of you wrapped so snugly around them driving him wilder than ever before.

geto's fingers dance over your sensitive clit, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body. “oh— i-i, oh god!” you whining on geto'e neck. the added stimulation proves to be the final straw, pushing you over the precipice into oblivion.

your inner walls clench around both cocks as your orgasm rips through you, a high-pitched wail tearing from your throat. wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you, leaving you trembling and helpless in their embrace.

feeling your pussy spasm around them, geto and gojo lose the battle against their own releases. With a guttural roar, geto buries himself deep inside you, his hot seed painting your insides as he comes undone.

at the same exact moment, gojo follows suit, his cock throbbing violently as he empties himself within your welcoming depths. as your orgasm hits full force, you cry out—your voice echoing throughout the room as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your veins. “baby..” you moan.

geto and gojo are both left panting heavily, their bodies slick with sweat as they ride out the aftershocks of their orgasms. each pulse of your pussy milks them for everything they have, drawing out their climaxes further.

as the last tremors fade away, both men collapse onto the couch beside you, spent and satisfied. lucky the couch is big enough for the three of you. geto wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you down onto his chest while gojo presses soft kisses to your forehead.

“you're amazing,“ geto murmurs into your hair, his voice filled with warmth and affection. “and you're ours,” gojo adds with a smirk, giving your ass a playful squeeze.

as the aftershocks of your climax ripple through you. geto's forehead rests against your shoulder while gojo leans heavily against your back. “that was incredible,” geto whispers hoarsely, panting heavily against your skin. he slowly pulls out of you, taking great care not to hurt you despite the sensitivity of your still-quivering walls.

gojo presses a tender kiss against the base of your spine, chuckling softly. “i never get tired of hearing those sounds coming from you,” he admits, nuzzling against you lovingly. despite the intensity of what just happened, they stay close—neither willing nor able to leave your side just yet.

the three of you lie there, limbs tangled and breaths heavy, as the aftereffects of the passion ripple through your bodies. geto holds you close against his chest, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as he tries to regulate his breathing. “god, you feel so damn good,” he mutters in between gasps, his voice still rough.

gojo, as he lies behind you, his body molding seamlessly against your back. he presses a gentle kiss against the base of your spine before nuzzling into your neck, his arms wrapping around you in a tender embrace.

geto’s fingers gently rub soothing circles across your skin, while gojo continues to sprinkle soft kisses across your neck and shoulders. there’s a comfortable silence between the three of you, broken only by the sounds of ragged breaths and beating hearts.

gojo breaks the silence first, his voice low and hoarse. “i never want to let you go,” he murmurs against your skin, his grip on you tightening slightly. “i just want to hold you like this forever.”

still with your eyes closed and your chest going up and down as you are trying to catch a breath, you weakly pushing them away, feeling disgusted how sweaty and sticky your body feels.

“i'm sweaty,” you mumble softly.

they immediately notice your body pushing against them and your voice sounding weak. they look at each other for a second, silently communicating their concern before gojo speaks up. “hey,” he whispers softly, his hand rubbing your arm. “are you okay?”

geto slowly pulls back, his hands moving to your face, gently tilting it towards him so he can look at you. “baby, did we hurt you?” you shake your head before laughing a little, your cheek pressed against the soft material of the couch. “no, that was the best sex i ever had, we should do that again,” you mumble with your eyes still closed.

your body curls up until you thigh touching your chest. “i never knew i could take you two at the same time,” you mumble without opening your eyes. they both let out a sigh of relief when you shake your head, the tension in their bodies slightly easing.

“you scared us for a second there,” gojo admits, his hand gently caressing your arm. “you were shaking so much, we thought we hurt you.” geto adds, his voice soft and tender, “yeah... we just want to make sure you’re okay, princess.”

they watch you curl up, your body still visibly trembling slightly. gojo gently runs his fingers through your hair, his voice low and soothing. “you did so well, baby…” geto, meanwhile, reaches to the armrest of the couch and grabs a blanket, gently draping it over you. “you look tired. does your body hurt anywhere?”

gojo’s fingers continue to caress your hair, his touch gentle and soft. he lets out a small chuckle, “you were shaking so hard... that’s how we know it was good.” geto, meanwhile, adjusts the blanket so it’s securely over your body. “god, you look adorable like that,” gojo can't help but mutters as he give your arm a gentle kiss.

“i feel sore,” you mumble still.

their expressions soften at your admission. “to be expected.” gojo says, caressing your hair gently. “we’ll get some ointment and massage you a bit after you rest a while, okay?” geto nods, his gaze tender as he looks down at you. “we’ll take good care of you, princess. just rest for a bit now.”

you fold your wrist under your chin, your habit whenever you are trying to fall asleep. “i wanna go to sleep,” you speak softly, still refuse to open your eyes. feeling so tired after coming back from a mission and have to go round and round with them after is not something you expect in your agenda for today.

they both laugh softly at your mumbled words, the sight of you trying to stay awake while visibly dead tired being too cute for them to ignore. gojo gently runs his fingers through your hair again, his voice low and soothing. “then go to sleep, baby. we’ll watch over you, don’t worry.” geto moves closer to you, his hand gently caressing your arm. “we’ll be here when you wake up.”

you nodded, “i wanna eat soup,” you added, sounds more like you are talking in your sleep rather than talking to them. they both smile at your sleepy request, gojo letting out a soft chuckle.

“of course, baby.” he whispers, still running his fingers through your hair. “we’ll get you soup once you wake up, i promise.” geto murmurs approvingly, his hand softly rubbing your arm. “you have no idea how cute you sound right now.”

they continue to watch you, their touches gentle and soothing as your body slowly relaxes into sleep.

gojo’s fingers gently running through your hair, his touch soft and comforting. “that’s it, baby. just relax and sleep now… we’ll be here when you wake up.” geto’s hand continues to rub your arm as he watches you slowly slip into sleep, his eyes fond and affectionate. “sweet dreams, princess.”

over the next few minutes, your breathing gradually evens out and your body relaxes completely into a peaceful sleep. gojo and geto remain by your side, their presences reassuring and unwavering. geto readjusts the blanket over you, while gojo moves a strand of hair away from your face. they both sit quietly, watching over you with tender looks in their eyes.

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nanamiscocksleeve · 2 months

Text

Telling The LADS Men to Ditch The Condom

Them reacting to you saying you want them to fuck you raw. Warnings : MDNI, sex, oral, handjob, and general smut These banners are mine, please do not reuse them.

Zayne, as a doctor, preached safe sex. He appreciates the responsibility and nothing is more attractive to him than a woman who is aware of her birth control options and doesn’t mind communicating openly with him about these decisions. After all, having sex was such an intimate act for him that he wouldn’t even think about it until you’d been dating for at least a month. He likes the exclusivity and the closeness of sex, and that includes being held accountable for the choices both of you made in the bedroom. So when you tell him to lose the condom, he blinks, making sure he hasn’t misheard you.

“You…want to do it without a condom?”

His head is between your thighs, kissing and nibbling the soft flesh as he edges his way towards the moist and sensitive folds, and he raises up on his elbows to ensure his ears aren’t being obstructed by your legs.

You nod slowly, blushing as his dark eyes fixated on yours, the flecks of amber in them lightening at the idea. His pupils dilate at your affirmation, and he hoists himself up a little higher, resting on your belly, gently stroking your flanks. “You’re sure about this? There’s no pressure you know.”

“I know. But I feel like we’ve been together long enough to allow ourselves to go one step further. And I’m on the pill. We can monitor the situation later if you want to but honestly Zayne, I think any step I take with you isn’t going to be something I regret.” You say the words candidly, reaching down to stroke his black, silky, locks of hair, heart skipping a beat as he plays with the squish of your belly, nuzzling his face into the softness. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

His eyes flutter closed for a second, the ebony eyelashes resting like fans on his cheekbones before he sighs, the little puff of air sending a shiver across your middle. He crawls up towards your face, capturing your mouth in a tender kiss, tongue sliding across the slit of your lips before entering inside. You cup his face and deepen the kiss, heat gathering in your body. Zayne pulls away only to come to your ear, hot breath tickling you as he speaks.

“I don’t think I’ll regret this either.” He licks the shell of your ear, making you twitch. “But remember, if you change your mind, I’ll stop. No questions asked.”

His words are so sincere and spoken with love, adding fuel to the fire. Zayne, patient and considerate, is looking at you with those sharp eyes as if you’re his last meal on earth. He kisses his way down, pausing briefly to shower some attention over your perked nipples, giving them soft licks and kisses that make you mewl and whine with need. Once he’s back at his original spot between your legs, your arousal has increased a hundredfold, your sex soft and swollen, leaking fluid as he parts your folds.

His tongue darts out, tasting you, licking slow lines from cunt to clit, before slurping the swollen pearl into his mouth, suctioning it with his lips. His middle finger flirts with your entrance, teasing it until it starts sucking in his fingertip, drawing a moan from you as he strokes it along your upper wall.

Zayne knew his anatomy and he never wasted a second in touching you exactly in the spot that made you feel like you were turning into a pile of goo. Never in a hurry, always taking his time, coaxing orgasms from you like a hobby, the breath tearing from your throat, your core spasming from the pleasurable waves that radiate throughout your body. Zayne nudges you through the final vestiges of your orgasm before stroking himself, readying his hardened cock.

He’s done this before but what gets to him as he aligns his tip with your hot entrance is how heightened the sensation is, the absence of latex allowing him to profoundly feel every muscle contract and fully experience how wet and welcoming your body truly was. He grits his teeth, his balls throbbing, desire surging through his veins, almost snapping his self-control.

He inches in slowly, splitting you apart, marveling at how you stretch to fit him, the little noises that leave your throat music to his ears. Once fully sheathed, he looks at you, hair tousled and splayed across the pillow, a flush across your face. He thrusts with care, drawing a moan of longing from you and softly rolls his hips, adjusting himself at an angle he knew you liked.

Every movement brushed his mushroomhead against your gspot, soft sighs filling the air, his lips descending onto yours, his thumb working your clit, gradually bringing up your pleasure to another peak.

“You feel so good darling,” he pants, his thrusts becoming steadily faster, his willpower fading away to primal need. “Taking me so well,” he whispers, capturing your lips in another passionate kiss.

Your body is reeling from the stimulation and with Zayne’s gentle ministrations on your clit you cum with a cry, his hips stuttering as he feels the orgasmic spasms of your core around his cock. He tries to hold on, but it’s too much, his head growing sensitive as your second orgasm sucks him in deeper into your warmth, his balls tightening up and the coil in his belly compressed to a limit until it snaps, and with a grunt, he spills himself into your body.

Afterwards, he holds you tenderly, gently easing out, and cleaning up your messy slit with a warm washcloth, playing with your hair until the both of you fall asleep.

This is a man who’s been taught condoms are the best way to avoid complications. It’s a golden rule that he will not have unprotected sex for both health reasons and to avoid making the person he’s with uncomfortable. You don’t have condoms? He’s running to the pharmacy to get some. He takes these things seriously and understands that it’s simply gentlemanly to be the one to buy condoms. Xavier wants to feel like he can be relied on in situations like this and that you should never feel awkward asking him to make a condom run or any kind of run.

He’s reaching for the box to roll one onto himself when you hold his wrist. Curiously, he looks at you, a sight to behold, a heavenly sight laying on his bed, lips plump and swollen from his kisses, body glistening with sweat from your recent orgasm.

“Ditch the condom Xav,” you murmur, tracing his arm with your fingers, causing goosebumps to bloom on his skin, his usually slow heartbeat picking up a few paces.

“Are you sure angel?” He lays down gathering you in his arms, his erection tickling your belly as he breathes in the perfume of your hair.

“Positive.” You stroke his cheek reassuringly, feeling like you could drown in the depths of his blue eyes, unable to control the little giggle that leaves your throat as he blushes at your confirmation.

“Xavier.” You grasp his chin, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve never been more sure. I know I can trust you, rely on you. And right now, I can’t think of anything I want more than to feel you inside me, no barriers.”

He’s shy, his smile so awkward and his face so pink. This was new to him, and the fact that you’re asking so sweetly is pulling at his heartstrings. After hesitating for another moment he places the condom back on the nightstand.

“All right angel. Since you're sure. But tell me if you feel uncomfortable at all ok?” Xavier rubs his thumbs over your cheekbones in circles, a sweet and tender gesture, carefully laying over you, his chest coming into contact with yours as he tips your face up for a kiss, his hands slipping under you and clasping your shoulder blades to bring your body as close to his as he could.

While his tongue explored your mouth, he raises slightly on his knees and effortlessly finds your moist entrance with his tip savoring each tiny inch that envelopes his cock with aching warmth. He's unable to control the sigh that escapes his lips, lost in your mouth as he feels the wet muscles contract around him, pulling him in. The feeling is inexplicable, the intimacy of skin on skin making him feel heady and light, heart racing in his chest.

His brilliant blue eyes begin to darken at the edges, turning into a darker shade of midnight as he bottoms out, little noises of contentment resounding in your throat as you feel the hot velvet column of his cock fill you, feel the way it pulses as he occupies your pussy.

“Xav… You feel amazing,” you gasp as you pull away from his mouth, his hips coming to lay flush against yours as he thrusts into you, stroking your inner walls and teasing all the right spots inside you. He's hot and flushed, watching your face as it contorts in pleasure, his blush settling across his cheeks and nose like adorable pink freckles. You smile hazily as him and his head dips down to suckle as nipple, his tongue caressing the little bud, turning your moans into sighs of longing.

When his thumb starts to circle your clit you almost cry out from the pleasure of it all, every sensitive spot being hit at the same time with aching perfection. His breath mingles with yours, sweat forming on both your bodies as you rock against each other, creating delicious friction, matching the other rhythm for rhythm, strike against long stroke.

The edges of your vision blur as your climax grows nearer and Xavier’s jaw grows tight, a moan escaping his lips as he tries to hang on, determined not to climaxes before you. His thumb picks up its pace and with a shaky gasp, your orgasm hits, the sweetness of it making you sob as it grips you, feeling your core spasm, and with a final push of triumph, he allows himself to succumb to his own desires, cock twitching and spasming along with your pussy as he cums, coating your walls with his seed.

Tired, he collapses on top of you as gracefully as he can, your hands and soothingly rubbing over his back, kissing his hair, murmuring praise to him as he floats down from his high.

“Angel…you're so wonderful. The best.” his head is on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as he tries to grasp into reality. You can't help but laugh lightly. Xavier always gets pussy drunk and now without the condom it appeared to accelerate to an entirely fucked out state.

His eyes gleam like sapphires as his breathing returns to normal. “Well how am I supposed to be the guy making the condom run now after knowing what it feels like without one?”

You roll your eyes affectionately at him and flick his forehead.

Rafayel isn't unfamiliar with sex and intimate relationships but he doesn't often engage in them. He's quite shy and doesn't tell you what he's thinking. With patience and a little experimentation, Rafayel slowly came out of his shell and learned to feel comfortable enough with you to express his desires and wants. However, he's nervous about how you'll react to him admitting he's been wondering how it would be without a condom so he clams up.

His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are half lidded, whining as he rests between your legs, his back against your chest as you pump his erection with aching perfection.

“Feeling good baby?” You coo at him as he writhes under yourself ministrations at your mercy.

“Yeah… So close… Don't stop… “ he pants, hips desperately thrusting up to meet your strokes, feeling his thigh muscles quiver and his abs growing tighter with each passing second.

“Talk to me Raffy… how good am I making you feel?”

“So good…” His eyes, a lovely shade of lavender gray are starting to turn into smoke as his impending climax builds and rises. His cheeks are flushed and there's sweat on his forehead and chest from the exertion, the gentle crescendo of pleasure building to a steady peak.

He gazes up at you in a haze, those adorably plump lips parted as he gasps for air.

“You're so pretty when you pout you know?” you ask teasingly and as predicted his brow furrows, displeased at your amusement.

“Don't… say things like… that!” the color in his cheeks rises and your own control slips slightly as you lean down to give an admonishing nibble on his lower lip. The extra stimulation is enough to push him over the edge and with a groan he pulses, his cock warm and needy in your palm, spilling his cum into your hand.

Your clean hand plays with his pretty hair as you continue to pump him with care ensuring he rides out every drop of his orgasm, a few more more spurts of viscous fluid leaking from his tip before stopping.

Rafayel relaxes on your lap as you reach over to grab a tissue and wipe off your hand. His eyes linger on your messy hand, sticky with his arousal and he feels his cock twitch despite having just cum.

“I wonder what it would look like slipping out of your pussy instead of your hand,” he says in a quiet pondering voice that has you pausing, a wicked grin forming on your face.

“Raffy… Did you just say you wanted to fuck me without a condom?” You emphasize the word ‘fuck’ on purpose because of how flustered he gets when he hears it and sure enough, he pouts, a noise of embarrassment escaping his lips, rolling onto his side to hide his face.

You quickly discard the used tissue and lay down to face him, pulling his struggling hands away from his face which looks like a setting sun now, adorably flushed, eyes bright and averted.

“Raffy tell me what you want.” You reassuringly pull closer to him, nuzzling his warm neck.

His cheek rests on the top of your head and with a sigh he admits with a hint of bashfulness, “I fantasize about it sometimes. But we don't have to,” he adds quickly.

Your laughter is muffled by his neck as you lean back to look at him. “I think we've been together long enough to discuss doing it raw.” You look at him imploringly.

“Cmon baby. We can ditch the condom today. I kinda want to know what it feels like too.”

His smokey lavender roam over your face, still carrying hints of hesitation in them. “You're sure? You're not just doing this because I want to right?”

“Oh Raffy. There's never been a day where you've made me feel forced to do anything. I'm very sure.” You cup his face between both your hands and gaze at him lovingly.

He laughs awkwardly, smiling shyly and you feel his erection press against your thigh as the both of you draw in for a kiss, Rafayel pulls your knee over his hip, stroking your moist folds with his cock. You whine in pleasure as he holds his cockhead up to your clit and you slide along his length, both of you sighing passionately at the intimate touch. His engorged tip cups the base of your clit so perfectly and you feel your core clench in anticipation.

Rafayel drags his length between your folds one more time before sliding down to your needy hole, groaning as your wet heat circles his tip. You push down on him, feeling the heat of his member, enjoying the way he fills you so wonderfully, his head sitting snug against your gspot.

The thrusts were shallow in this position but it allows you to snuggle into his chest, look deeply into his eyes and kiss him at leisure, each stroke hitting that sweet spot inside you with aching precision. He toys with your clit , pinching and rolling it for your pleasure.

He's amazed at how good you feel, how tight you are around his length, how wet you really are. The condom almost dulled this sensation and it feels like he's woken from a dream and experiencing reality for the first time.

Your orgasm hits sharply, making you cry out and cling to him the combined fondling of your clit and gspot too much for handle. As it starts to settle down you moan in his ear.

“Baby… Give it to me. I want to know what your cum slipping out of my pussy feels like too. Please… Cum for me… Like how I came for you…”

Your voice is whiny and pleading and Rafayel's hips stutter as he reaches his peak, letting out noises of his pleasure into your ear as he cums, and you feel his hot seed fill your eager pussy. As the both of you catch your breath, kissing each other in the afterglow, everything feels right.

Rafayel's erection softens and as it happens you feel the unmistakable feeling of your combined cum sliding out of your pussy, pooling at the crevice of your thigh.

“That's so hot,” you murmur and from Rafayel's expression he's thinking the same thing. He gathers a little bit of your mixed fluids on his finger, fascinatedly tasting it, his eyes intoxicated at the flavor.

“See what happens when you tell me what you want?” you strokes his arm. He nods then gets close to your ear.

“I don't think I want to use a condom ever again.”

Sylus is that guy who loves going in raw but only if he's sure you're into him. And despite the talk of him being the ruthless leader of Onychinus, he's a true gentleman and would never bring the topic of having unprotected sex unless you initiate it. He prides himself on being someone you look to for security amidst the chaos in the N109 zone.

His fingers are knuckle deep into your pussy, wet squelching noises filling the air as his long fingers expertly tease that bundle of nerves inside you while his thumb rubs circles on your clit drawing out a moan of longing from you, your walls clenching around his thick fingers.

“That's it good girl… Give it to me,” his deep voice rumbles in approval as you writhe desperately on his fingers feeling your body tense in anticipation at what was to come.

His lips hover over your collarbone nibbling leisurely and you roll your hips, moaning as your climax washes over you, pussy spasming from the gratification.

He licks his fingers clean, savoring the tang of your arousal before pulling you in for a deep kiss, pulling you snugly against his chest, and pressing kisses to your hair. You taste the musky flavor of your orgasm, transferred from his tongue to yours.

Your hands are already busy with his cock, tickling his thighs and cupping his balls drawing a chuckle from him.

“Easy kitten. We have all night.” His tongue slips between your lips again and gives you a sloppy kiss, a noise of delight leaving you as you stroke the hot velvet of his cock.

“Sylus?” you stroke him in a steady rhythm that has him humming, the noise sounding like a cat purring, his abs contracting in response to your touch.

“Yes doll?” he licks and nibbles down the side of your neck making you shiver. His crimson eyes fixate on you as you hesitate to speak.

“What is it? You know I'll do anything for you right?” He grasps your chin firmly and makes eye contact, feeling flattered when you blush, your nipples perked from your recent orgasm, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, looking divine.

“I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Um… How would you feel if… we didn't… Useprotection?” the last few words are said in a rush, and your cheeks grow hot as you make your request. It's not normal for you to feel so shy, after all Sylus was incredibly open to experimentation and exploring kinks with you. But there was something so personal about asking this of him, letting a part of him sit within you so intimately and the vulnerability made you feel exposed.

Sylus rises a contemplative eyebrow, his lips curling into an indulgent smile as he sees how flustered you're getting.

“The kitten has gotten bold,” he says approvingly. “You wish to have all of me? Feel my cock in all it's exposed glory inside your wet little cunt?”

The crudeness of his words sends a rush of arousal straight into your already dripping core. Heat fills your cheeks and you slap his shoulder.

“Don't say it like that!”

“isn't it the truth though?” Sylus rolls you on top of him as he lays back against the pillows, enjoying the view of your soft body. “Don't you want to feel every inch of my veiny cock fill you, rub your sensitive walls and fuck you senseless? All the while your tight little pussy keeps getting wetter for me and you can't do anything except helplessly moan and let me stuff you with my seed?”

His ruby eyes glitter sinfully as he watches you squirm under his gaze. How cute. His fingers idly stroke your sides, your hands full of his cock but momentarily frozen from his teasing.

“Don't feel like you have to stop on account of me sweetie,” he prompts, then can't stop himself from laughing as you hasten to continue with your strokes. “You fluster so easily.”

“Anyone would if spoken to that way!”

“Oh no sweetie. I doubt anyone else would have such an adorable reaction. Why can't you just admit that you want me in you, no barriers, just raw and primal like animals?”

Your nails scratch over his abs, feeling them quiver. “If you don't want to just say so.”

“Don't be that way.” His red eyes narrow, hands tightening around your waist. “You know I want to.” His large hands cup your breasts and squeeze.

“Then why do you keep laughing like it's funny?” you whine as he twists your nipples, and grind his upper thigh.

Sylus's eyes soften slightly before he leans up to kiss a nipple and pull it softly with his lips. “Mhm… Sy…” your nails scratch his scalp as you cradle his head.

He lets go and blows a puff of air over the hardened peak, causing it to perk up more before circling it with his thumb. “I adore you doll. It’s not that I find it funny. I'm very flattered that you want me that way. But if I let my desire for you consume me, you may find yourself pushed to a limit.”

He traces a finger from between your breasts down to your navel. “You may find me… being rough. More than you're used to. Because kitten…” he leans up with you balanced on his body and with a soft tickle of hot breath on your ear that has you jerking slightly in surprise, he says in a feral whisper, “the thought of burying myself in your cunt with no condom on, feeling how you clench and get turned on for me makes me want to eat you alive.”

Blood rushes to your face and Sylus watches with satisfaction. He caresses your cheek. “Ride me kitten.”

His eyes darken as you glance at him under lowered lashes. You crawl over his body on your hands and knees hovering your slick core over his hard length. He sucks in a breath as you lower your hips, teasingly brushing his tip against your wet hole, the sensation of so inviting it takes all his willpower not to slam into you mercilessly. He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if he was on top, wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking. Putting you in control was the wise choice here.

“Fuck kitten,” he growls, his fingers digging into your hips. “You feel so good. So wet for me.”

Sylus's cock stretches you deliciously as you take him in, feeling his veins and heat pulsate achingly inside you. You whine as you fit him in, you whine each time because he's just so big, and it takes a while to adjust and take him. It never fails to make him smirk but today he's watching intently wondering how he's supposed to last with your pussy gripping him like a glove and enveloping him with your needy heat.

When you finally bottom out, both of you take a collective breath and feeling so full, feeling how he fits inside you. Resting your palms on his chest you start to move, lifting your body up feeling him stroke your inner walls and start to ride him.

You start slow, setting a pace that has him groaning, holding your hips so tightly it hurt but you continue, angling your body until you feel his engorged head brush your gspot. His teeth are gritted as he slips a finger between your legs and finds your hardened clit, stroking it to match your movements.

The texture of his cock has you moaning, his gentle movements on your clit pushing you closer to him edge. Sylus lets out a hiss of air, trying not to disturb your pace but his will is being ripped to shreds.

You were so warm. So tight and wet. And claiming you without a condom in his opinion only solidified further that you were his. Marked, claimed, and rightfully his in the most biblical sense.

Your pace picks up as you ride him, needing more friction pathetic noises leaving your throat as you chase your orgasm. Your thighs quiver and burn from the effort but you're so close that you push through the pain, gasping as Sylus firmly presses into the little bud.

“You're so cute like this, struggling on my cock. Let go for me sweetie… Make a mess all over me.”

His words are a sinful request mingling with the sounds of slapping skin and lewd noises of need. With a loud breath of desire, you cum all over him, eyes squeezing shut at the pleasurable spasms that rock your body.

It's too much for Sylus to handle, and taking advantage of your momentary lack of movements, he thrusts upwards into you, fucking you through your orgasm desperate to cum with you.

The absence of the condom aids him and with a loud bark he feels his balls tightening and his orgasm hits him like a train, holding you tightly as pleasure flows through him, his seed filling into your needy pussy.

Fuck he was addicted. He rolls you onto the bed and holds you close to him.

“You're going to be the death of me kitten.”

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sttoru · 9 months

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your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. suggestive, mild (to somewhat) nsfw, fluff. lots of kissing. lots and lots of kissing and loving. he fondles and gropes you everywhere basically. clingy satoru. tiny bit size difference (yes ok im a slut, what about it). body worship kinda. readers gets called ‘sweet / pretty girl, baby, princess’. beta read? what’s that.

you fell for it again; satoru told you it was only going to be a quick peck on the lips. ‘i promise, baby, c'moooon’ — you recall him begging in that whiny voice of his. that's all what was needed to make you putty in his hands.

“fine, but only one kiss, okay?” you gave in and walked over to satoru, climbed onto your shared bed and leaned in for a swift kiss—only for his strong arms to cage you in and never let go. it had been ten minutes since; the apartment was silent, except for the lewd sounds of your shared kisses and heavy breaths.

satoru’s soft hands are wandering everywhere. from cupping your cheeks to rubbing your sides and gripping your ass. the clock was ticking loudly, but the sound of it was drowned out by your moans. and satoru’s low, needy whimpers.

the appointment you were getting ready for had long slipped your mind.

“mh, you’re such a good kisser, baby,” the white-haired man sighs. he absolutely loves the way you follow the movements of his glossy lips—your head tilting to the side and back—automatically accomodating to satoru’s motions. he was kissing you with an urgent need. one you had never known or witnessed before, “more, ngh, need more of you, please.”

satoru was not letting up. you couldn’t blame him; it was easy to get lost in this warm and cherished moment of peace. his sweet kisses switched intensity—going from innocent kisses to sloppy ones, resulting in your chin dripping with a mixture of saliva.

you whine and straddle satoru’s lap which earns you a happy hum from your lover. that was his plan all along: to completely distract you from the fact that you had to leave the house. that you had to leave his side. others would call it annoyingly clingy, but satoru absolutely needs your lips on his.

he is sure that he would go insane if he spent a whole day without kissing you. an hour is already too long, if he is honest.

satoru would love to kiss you until the end of time. until death comes knocking onto his door. the last thing he desires to feel is your plump lips and wet tongue wrapped around his. a peaceful, warm death. one with no regrets.

“mhmmm, fuck, you taste so sweet.” satoru's eyebrow furrow in delight. he is nearly overstimulated by the taste of you. the way your small body clings onto him, your hands holding onto his jaw and sliding down his chest, your sounds of pleasure that only he could ever have the honour of hearing.

it was perfect. all of you was perfect.

your parted lips make way for his tongue again. satoru slips his tongue inside your mouth. it was tender, yet demanding. your throat tightens up and a choked moan fills his ears. his cold fingers make contact with the warm skin of your midriff. they were aiming at one place; your chest.

the one satoru loves to fondle no matter when or where. the same one he loves to use as a pillow every night.

“nnh, ‘toru, need’to breathe,” you are running out of air. the short gasps you took between the heated kisses were not enough to fill your lungs. but, it was addicting. the shortness of breath the two of you experienced only served as more proof of your love.

neither of you want to pull away—to pause the make out session for even what could be a split second.

the older man below you is hesistant. he does not want to let go of you. it's like you’re asking him to break up—that’s how much it hurts him to stop kissing you.

however, he felt a bit light-headed from the lack of oxygen as well. satoru pulls away, but not without sweeping his tongue over your bottom lip, lapping up the drool that dripped down the corners of your mouth.

his eyes are half-lidded and glazed over with both love and lust. you stabilise yourself by holding onto his broad shoulders and satoru rubs your back to help calm you down further. a ghost of a grin tugs at his lips. he surely is enjoying your adorable, exhausted demeanour. your chest was heaving up and down—his fingers sneaking to your front and wrapping around a breast to feel its tenderness.

“pretty,” satoru sighs. he takes the chance once your lips part to take a deep breath. his tongue quickly slips in, invading your mouth and exploring every inch before separating the two of you again. he can not go a minute without kissing you. you sure are like a drug to him, “thank you, princess.”

you are surprised by the sudden tongue kiss, but brush it off with a chuckle. you know how satoru is; not able to keep away from you in heated moments like these. his large hands fondling, groping and squeezing every area of your body only proves that point.

“thank you for what?” you ask, planting a soft peck on his lips. your boyfriend responds by holding the back of your head. he leans in for another kiss like a man depraved of any affection. you shudder and hold onto him like he there is no tomorrow. he does the same back, squeezing you against his chest.

satoru slightly tilts his head back to answer your question. his breath was hot on your mouth, a faint string of saliva hanging between your bottom lips. he can not hold the urge. he can not answer. his lips are already colliding with yours once more.

over and over. until the two of you were out of breath and needed a break again.

“thank you for being with me,” satoru answers in a quiet whisper. the pad of his thumb brushes back and forth against the waistband of the shorts you are wearing. there is an urge to pull them down and reveal those pretty little panties you are wearing, but his current priority is to feel your mouth on his.

until he gets enough. which is never. never in a million years.

“thank you for everything, honestly,” satoru continues and leaves a couple wet kisses down your neck. his hands do not leave your perfect body. he’s admiring every curve - every body part that had yet to be touched, “could have never believed that i’d end up with such a pretty girl. but, here i am, with the prettiest girl in the world in my arms.”

satoru had a way with words. one that left you flustered like crazy each time. he looks at you and that’s when you know that he means every word. his eyes were shining, even when half-lidded. the admiration in them more than just visible.

he looks at your face and body like he’s witnessing the world's greatest treasure. and that you surely are.

“stop saying that.” you giggle embarrassedly. you cover your mouth to hide your smile, though satoru is quick to grab your wrist and pull your hand away. he keeps holding onto your arm to prevent you from hiding your face from his sight. and to stop you from hiding your lips from his, of course.

the older man clicks his tongue, scolding you jokingly for trying to hide that precious smile from him. he kisses the corners of your lips, touch lingering against your hot skin, “how am i supposed to admire my pretty girl if she keeps hiding herself, hm?”

you squirm due to satoru’s flirty words. his gentle tone of voice is making you feel those tingles in your lower abdomen. there has not been a single moment in your relationship where your lover made you feel unwanted. it’s been the complete opposite every day.

“someone’s getting a bit squirmy, aye?” your boyfriend teases. he knows that the combination of his words, looks and actions make you weak in the knees. you always react like it’s your first time kissing and that is both endearing and amusing to him.

you can’t control your bodily reactions either. the sight of satoru beneath you is simply too much. his fluffy hair that sits messily due to your fingers that tugged and played around with the strands, his black top riding up to reveal a glimpse of his defined abs and happy trail. . . the faint blush on satoru’s cheeks and the needy look in his eyes.

you surely can’t leave him alone while he looks like that.

“shut up and kiss me already.” you respond with a huff. and so, satoru does. wasting not a single second. kissing you is his job—his passion. the only thing he ever craves for.

the room once again fills with noises of pure contentment, enjoyment and pleasure. it’s just you two in that moment—no one else mattered.

as long as your lips stay attached to each other, no one actually does.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #x female reader

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gojoest · 4 months

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to say satoru is just clingy would be quite wrong actually.

“give me a kiss”, he pleads, voice soft, and eyes even softer. tenderness seeping from them as he looks at you, his gaze slowly shifting from your eyes to your lips in anticipation.

“i just gave you one”, you push a finger against his puckered lips.

“that was a long time ago, give me another”, he rolls closer to you. his body now completely on your side of the bed and his head on your pillow.

he throws an arm over you, his hand reaching at your back to pull you in until you’re squished chest to chest.

“that was three seconds ago”, you correct him.

“come on, my delicate. give me my air. or else i’ll suffocate and die”

“mmm? i am your air?”

“yes, you are”, he nods his head and puckers his lips again, waiting.

you kiss him softly. almost through a chuckle at his words at first, until his soft pink lips melt your sounds into a low hum. his hand trailing up from your back to your hair, fingers dancing like a tender rain on your scalp.

when you pull your face away, you drag a needy moan out of him along with it. almost like he’s out of air again.

“another one”, his breath shallow. “give me another”

to say he’s just clingy would be wrong. he’s just a human, so in love, who can’t hold his breath for too long.

#[ ♡ ] — satoru #i love him. “my delicate” might just be one of my favorite pet names now and it hits so right when he calls you that #for he treats you so delicately always :(

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rockingbytheseaside · 5 months

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✦ How they hold you in bed when sleeping

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Tartaglia (separate)

When the stars are perched in the night sky, and the world becomes wrapped in a still blanket of darkness - there is no better action than departing to your safe space, the coziness of your bedroom, and the safety of your beloved’s body next to you. The lights are dimmed and after a warm shower and a change into comfy pajamas, your beloved is met with a tender sight of your sleepy figure. It is time for rest, and with his arms open, beckoning you to hop into his embrace - you join him in bed at last.

✧ A single glance from Pierro and his eyes would instantly soften upon seeing your sleepy expression. The Director of the Fatui doesn’t require any questions or even verbal communication to know that something is troubling you. Your solemn gaze and slumped shoulders tell him more than enough - and his heart aches in response. Silently but gently, he pulls you closer, his star-shaped pupils seeking answers from your own.

“My divine one... A long day?” - he whispers, his hand lifting your chin to make you look at him. You don’t directly respond, but nod and press your lips into a thin line. Pierro sighs, yearning to vanquish all your worries and pain. But sometimes, words are superfluous.

“Do not fret your little heart. No harm shall come, for I am here, my divine. Shall I take you to bed, instead?”

With a small nod and a timid glance from you, Pierro spoke no further. He knew what you required on such solemn nights as these, and instead, allowed his arms to pick you up, carrying your fatigued figure in his bigger embrace. He pulled you closer, his cheek gently grazing your face as he whispered soothing words and brought you to bed.

He tucked you in, the king-sized bed bringing the familiar sensation of silky sheets and warm covers. He kisses your forehead with careful and slow deliberation before accompanying you to sleep.

When Pierro sleeps beside you, he is often silent, but his gaze never leaves your figure. He’d lay on his side, gazing at your face as if it were the stars and the moon itself. Even within the dimness of the room, he has memorized the outline of your face, the soothing rhythm of your breathing, the contour of your figure. With one hand around you, you two slept peacefully, the troubles of the world left behind. Even the Fatui’s Director required solace, and this solace he would locate only in your tender arms; his sanctuary.

✧ Il Capitano has memorized your routine. Take a shower, get ready for bed, and most importantly, sleep on top of him as if his body were a sturdy mattress. It’s not your fault your cherished is so much taller and bigger, right? Well luckily for you, he absolutely adores it when you climb on top of him, resting your head on top of his chest and legs around his hips. Your smaller figure clad tight around him like a loving weighted blanket while he slept on his back. His hands would gladly squeeze you, loving your softness against his toned physique.

“You don’t mind my weight on top of you, Cappy?” - you’d often ask every night before bed, peeking at him with that tender worry that made the Harbinger melt in an instant. Capitano would continue to hold you, his sharp fingers tracing circles gently on your hips or your back.

“Dearest, I have carried heavier weights that quadruple you in size. If you were to bother me, would I be pulling you back to my arms whenever you toss and turn?”

And thus, with the seal of approval from the honorable Captain, you’d smile triumphantly and sleep on him. That’s just how the two of you were: Capitano was a beast in size, slept still, and barely moved when on his back. Conversely, you were smaller in size, slept very lightly, and often turned or wrestled with the covers. Even when you had the spacious bed to your leisure, you always chose to sleep tightly clinging to him. And Capitano revered every second of it as if it was the biggest honor in his duty as your protector. Truly, an honorable knight protecting your dreams.

✧ Sharing a bed with Il Dottore is a toil. If you managed to miraculously drag him out of his lab, he’d groan and argue that he has important research to do, that your concern for his sleep schedule is ‘childish’. Yet the moment he settles in bed, he becomes a menace to your sanity:

“Are you coming to bed or not?”

“Come here, closer.”

“No, you are pushing around.”

And the cherry on top of it all? He’d stare at you during the entire night, maskless. You know he doesn’t easily fall asleep, even on days when he overexhausted himself in his experiments. So naturally, his method to relax is to press the side of his head tightly against your chest and just remain glued to you with the sound of your heartbeat being his salvation. You’d assume it is an adorable sight… until you’d open your eyes in the middle of the night, only to notice a piercing, red lens just gawking at you. Motionless and still, he just wore that neutral expression while being pressed to your chest.

“...Uh, are you going to just stare at me in the dark?” - you whispered in the dark, to which he won’t even move or change his expression.

“43 beats per minute.”

You blinked sleepily - “... wha-”

“Your heart beats approximately 43 to 50 beats per minute when you sleep. That’s anywhere between 20640 to 24000 beats for 8 hours of sleep.”

It was your turn to gawk at him, albeit in confusion. His nonchalant yet stoic reply told you that he was, indeed, very focused on counting each and every beat of your heart while you slept. He remained pressing his ear to the middle of your chest, arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

“Dottore, have you not slept this entire time…?”

“Shush, stop speaking,” - he whispered more gently, pressing his face into you in a rather touchy manner as if you wouldn’t notice. “I am still counting. Your heart rate is increasing to 81 bpm.”

“If you won’t go to sleep this instance I won’t make any Ajilenakh Cake tomorrow.”

As such, silence dominated the dark bedroom once more. The doctor said no more and settled on hiding his face against your body, not daring to admit that he loved your desserts. And even more, not daring to acknowledge that your heartbeat lulled him to sleep. To deny his infatuation with every beat of your pulse would be a lie, and to deny his longing to physically hold you close would be ignorance. So he settled to silently counting your heartbeat until succumbing to dreamless slumber.

✧ Scaramouche didn’t require sleep. Everyone knew that. Regardless, your persuasion with the 6th knew no bounds as you begged and nagged at him relentlessly to remain beside your bedding. He would audibly scoff and cross his arms at your ridiculous request.

“My body does not need rest for 8-something hours. Why should I even waste such precious time with you while you’re the one unconscious?”

However, no matter how much Scaramouche put up the cold front and rolled his eyes, he wasn’t immune to your ingratiating puppy eyes or gentle tugging whenever you asked something of him. You’d always embrace him from the side, asking him softly to stay a little longer as you depart for the night. He, of course, would refuse and cut your answers short, but his actions told a different story. He was already tucking you in; making sure the futon was neatly laid and the covers warmly wrapped around you while he sat kneeling beside you. He just had to make a fuss first:

“To even insinuate such foolish proposition… You must be truly bored out of your mind.”

You’d only chuckle in response, smiling whenever he made sure your room was tidy and secure for your nightly rest. But even then, you’d reach for his hand, and whisper:

“... Just stay for a while longer. At least until I fall asleep, okay?”

Same scoff. Same attitude. But The Puppeteer never left. He always stayed beside you, despite his arrogant rebuttals that you quickly learned were nothing about. He’d either sit leaning beside you, keeping a silent company, or telling you obscure stories he heard from Inazuma or the Abyss. And at times, Scaramouche would remain kneeling by your futon even after you had fallen asleep.

Your breathing was slow and steady, but he was almost afraid to lean any closer. All bickerings he displayed before were gone, and like a porcelain puppet, Scaramouche would find himself frozen in place, hypnotized by your soothing breathing. He just gazed at you, as if you were a distant star within the dark sky, the palliative breaths emitting from you told him that you were safe. You are here.

And it was from you he learned how gentle breaths are emitted by those deemed “alive”. How your breathing fluctuates in different moments of your life: energetic when happy, hitched when disturbed, and peaceful when asleep. Strangely, this mundane motion of your chest falling and rising worked like a lullaby to Scaramouche.

Alas, he now condemns himself for not caressing your face all these times he watched you sleep. A lonesome Wanderer sat alone, an empty futon beside him. Your familiar presence lacking, and he won’t hear your tranquil breaths. You are not here.

✧ Your dear Pantalone had a fundamental habit before bed. He’d set his glasses aside, hair tied up, and go through his skincare routine right before bed. His hands diligently yet delicately wash all the apprehension and professionalism from his face. But the most important part? Trash talk with you about what happened at his work, while he focused on his reflection in the mirror.

“Could you believe that dear?” - the 9th called out to you from the bathroom, his brows frowning in displeasure. The man continued to cleanse his face. “Those insolent aristocrats offered another bribe under the table, thinking that would change my final statement.”

You responded with a faint “Mhm,” back at him.

“And then! The tasteless bastard dared to ask that some of their reports be delayed because he will pay twice, as long as no one checks for quality control. I mean, the audacity of some of those high-society morons!”

“Right, right” - you murmured faintly from the bedroom.

Pantalone massaged his cheekbones, making sure his face was as affluent as his taste and status. He adjusted his robe, still rambling with the same frustrated passion. “They think that just because they’re doing business with me, negotiating with a high sum of bribes would lead to a guaranteed deal with the Fatui. Ugh.”

This time, there was no response from you. The bedroom was awfully silent, despite the night lamp still shining.

“Honey?” - Pantalone called gently.

Silence. The Regrator stepped out of the bathroom, a curious look on his face, until his eyes spotted you in bed, asleep. His expression immediately softens, all quarrels and gossip forgotten. It seems that his late-night rambles about work have thrilled you so much that you, obviously, dozed off. You didn’t even turn off the lights or get under the covers yet.

Pantalone couldn’t help but smile softly. You two had a long day, anyway. He quietly finished his preparations for bed, changed into comfortable nightwear, and stepped closer to your side. With a delicate touch, he made sure you were tucked in properly, giving you the usual good night kiss on the forehead and tucking your hair away from your face. The man dimmed the lights before he two took his rightful place in bed beside you.

Whatever quarrels troubled his mind now - didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had your comforting presence beside him in bed. As he slowly spooned your sleeping figure, Pantalone let out a sigh of relief, letting his head rest by the crook of your nape. Only then, did the Regrator feel his body go into ease, feeling the tranquil silence settle upon the room. Thus, the two of you slept warmly; Something that Pantalone would never trade for any riches or gold.

✧ Ah yes, Tartaglia, his sweetheart, and their 50,000 Mora five-foot tall Morax plushie. Childe remained lying on his back, his expression far from pleased. Ever since he returned from his mission in Liyue, he gifted you this massive dragon plushie. A plushie that became his mortal enemy. His tormentor. His replacer.

The 11th frequently brought souvenirs back home in Snezhnaya. Liyuan tea sets, Inazuman dresses, or Fontainian gadgets. All for your spoiling, and the joyous smiles from his siblings. One of such missions, he returned home with several cute toys and plushies, just for you and Teucer. He is not beating the “Greatest Toy Seller” allegation anytime soon, but he was certain that the gigantic Morax would be a lovely choice for you.

How naive he was.

The plushie was almost your entire height, yet you held onto it with utter delight when he gave it to you. You hugged and squeezed it with love, finding the fluffy geo archon the cutest thing ever. And thus, here you were. In bed, not hugging your boyfriend, but hugging the massive Morax plushie.

It became a common occurrence. At first, Childe chuckled at your adorable antics whenever you brought his gift with you in bed. But then it became more apparent that you would rather turn your back to him, and just fall asleep while embracing the plushie. Childe swallowed his pride. It’s just a plushie, he bargained with himself. But then he would stare daggers that that innocent, fluffy-looking Morax. How dare it be the one receiving your love, while you adorably squeezed or fell asleep on it.

It should’ve been him!

Therefore, one night, he took matters into his own hands. Tartaglia sat up silently in bed, and by mustering all his skills in stealth, he sneakily pulled the Morax plushie away from your grasp while you slept soundly. He was slow, and careful so as not to wake you up; and boy, tugging that five-foot plush was no easy task. Once it was away from your arms, Childe grinned in triumph… and threw the toy aside. The enemy has been neutralized.

Next step - carefully pulling you closer to him. You were already in deep sleep, so of course, you didn’t feel when your beloved naturally embraced you in bed. Shh, no one will know he was jealous of a silly toy. He was just a concerned boyfriend, who needed to bury his face onto the crown of your head and relish your warmth.

The next morning, you woke up feeling warm and pressed to your dear Ajax, who was particularly cuddly that morning.

“Oh no, how did my Morax plushie fall to the floor?”

“Hm? Oh, you must’ve accidentally tossed it away while you slept, dear.”

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