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ktgoodmorning · 2 days

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Goodnight, mi Tana

Aitana Bonmati x adhd!reader

This is just my experience as someone with adhd, I know I don't speak for everyone!

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“Baby, do you realize what time it is?” You jumped at the sound of Aitana’s voice suddenly breaking you from your focus on your book. She had been gone most of the day with some friends and you hadn’t heard her come home, let alone come out to join you on the balcony. Your eyebrows furrowed because of course you didn’t know what time it was, but you weren’t sure why it mattered. You had been laying there for a while now, reading and working on your tan, just basking in the beautiful weather.

“I don’t know, three, four O’clock?”

“It’s almost eight! Have you-”

“Eight?!” You jolted up, “How the hell is it eight? I’ve been out here almost the entire day. How did I not notice?! I haven’t even eaten!”

You thought you’d been outside for maybe an hour or two, definitely not the whole day. Now you had hardly any time left to do the laundry or any of the other more “necessary” tasks that you put off until you had done some reading.

In your slightly panicked state, your girlfriend came to join you, taking both your hands in hers to break you from your thoughts and try to calm you down. “It’s okay, love. I can help you get some of that stuff done before we go to bed, and we’ll have plenty of time to finish it up tomorrow.”

You pulled your hands from her hold and roughly ran them over your face with a loud groan. “No, Aita, you don’t understand! I wasted my whole day out here and I still have so much energy because I want to do other stuff but now I need to start winding down to go to bed soon.”

Aitana was used to you sometimes getting frustrated at yourself for things like this but this was the worst you had been in awhile. It was clear you had no intention of being outside all day but once you got into your book, there was no way of stopping you. It killed her at times to see the way it affected you and how you got so angry at yourself even though you both knew you were doing your best. “Well you’ve still got time, you could start something else tonight and finish it up tomorrow?”

“No! Why would I bother starting it tonight if I can’t just finish it? If I start something else I’m gonna be up late trying to finish, there’s no point.” Your voice had inadvertently raised, something that happened quite a lot and you were both used to at this point. Your girlfriend knew not to take your yelling personally and that it wasn’t her that had you losing your patience, it was entirely yourself. She’d almost prefer if it were her fault though, because at least then she would know how to help. When it was with yourself, there was little she could do.

“Why don’t we just start by going inside and getting you some food? Then we can go from there and see what time it is.”

You gave her a slight nod and allowed her to help pull you up and lead you inside to the kitchen, motioning you to sit down while she got some food out for you. “Any requests?”

“Uggghhhh, no. Nothing sounds good, I’m not even hungry anymore.” You buried your head in your hands, resting on the table as you whined at your girlfriend who was just doing her best to help you.

“I’ll just get you a little bit of everything then, and I’ll eat whatever you don’t want. At least one of them should be okay.” Atitana was mostly talking to herself, sensing that you had hit a wall where you didn’t feel like talking much and just wanted to focus on regulating yourself. She could see your shoulders rising and falling as you took some deep breaths, but decided to keep working on getting some food together, rather than try to help you calm down right now. She kept a close eye on you while she finished making your food, wanting to make sure you didn’t get any worse. When she set the plate down in front of you, she ran her hand gently over your back to get your attention.

“Baby, what can I do for you? I really think eating will help but we could go eat on the couch instead, if you want?

You remained silent but gave her a nod as you pulled your head from your hands and tiredly looked up at her.

“Oh, baby,” she pushed some hair behind your ear, heartbroken by the helpless look on your face, “Let’s go sit down; I’ll bring your food.”

You followed her out of the kitchen, looking much like a young child who had just been woken from a nap, and laid down on the couch lazily.

“Do you want me to grab you a blanket before I sit down?” Aitana set your plate down on the coffee table and was now just looking at you expectedly, trying to figure out how to help you.

“Tana,” your voice was almost a whisper, suddenly much quieter than you normally were. “Could you just lay on me for a few minutes?”

Her previous face of worry broke into a soft smile, more than happy to fulfill your request. “If I ever say no to that, there’s something seriously wrong with me," she giggled into your neck as she gently laid down on you, both of you instantly relaxing into the contact.

Both the pressure of her on top of you, along with the sound of her laughter, helped distract you from the anxieties that had been building just moments earlier. It was like hitting control alt delete on your spiraling and making it magically disappear. Suddenly your breathing was calmer, as well as your mind, and you no longer had to worry about all the things you didn’t get done, you had all the time in the world to make sure it all got done tomorrow.

After a few minutes of just laying there, both at peace with where you were at, the Catalan woman’s head popped up to look at you. “Think you’re ready to eat some food?” Her persistence made you smile. She obviously knew that food would help you feel better but didn’t want to push too hard to get you there.

“Si. Food sounds like a good idea.” Aitana rolled off of you and passed you the plate she had made up, full of a variety of different foods. She knew how picky you got when you were in a bad mood so she made sure there were plenty of things that were always safe bets. “Gracias, Tana. This is perfect,” you leaned over to give her a short kiss, “You know me too well.”

She brushed it off with a small shrug and kissed you again before you started digging into the food in front of you. “Don’t feel like you have to eat it all, I’ll finish anything you don’t want. Then maybe when you’re done you can shower and get changed, and then we’ll put on a movie or something?”

You groaned, mouth still full of food. “I don’t want to shower, it feels like so much work.”

“What if I say I’ll join you?” You quirked an eyebrow at her, trying to see if she was serious. “I’m not saying anything’s gonna happen, I’m too tired for that. But I’ll still join you if you want?” Your girlfriend watched you continue to shove food in your mouth while you contemplated her offer.

“If you’re joining, then I’m in.” Her eyes lit up instantly now that she knew her plan would work, just smiling at you and cuddling into your shoulder as you finished your food. Knowing you didn’t like sitting in silence for long, she filled you in on her day and her time with her friends, getting you caught up on everyone’s lives. You normally didn’t like to sit and listen to people without chiming in yourself, but with Aitana, you could do it all day long if you could. Something about the way she would break into little giggles and looked so bright when she talked about the things she loved, just made your heart full.

You hadn’t even noticed you had just finished the last of your food until she pointed it out to you because you had been far too focused on listening to her story. “Baby, I’ll take your plate, if you go get in the shower. I’ll come join you in a minute, yes?” You responded with a kiss before getting up and helping her up as well. Both going your separate ways until she could join you.

...

After your shower, you both got changed and brushed your teeth together before getting cuddled up under the covers of your bed.

“Do you want me to put a movie on? We don’t even have to watch, maybe we just put one on in the background while we just cuddle?”

“That sounds absolutely perfect.” You rolled into her side before she even had a chance to respond, chuckling lightly at your sudden clingy-ness. “Don’t put on anything too serious, I’m not planning on paying attention. I’ll probably end up talking through it or falling asleep anyways.” You both giggled at your words. It was true. You almost never made it through a movie and Aitana was always there to tease you about it.

You snuggled into her further, placing your head on her chest as she held you against her. “Maybe I should read a little bit before bed. I didn’t have much left in my book when you came home today, I bet I could finish it.”

“Amor, I mean this in the best way, but you have over a hundred pages left. If you even look too hard at that book, you’re gonna be up all night trying to finish it. That’s not a good idea. We have training tomorrow.”

“But Tanaaaaaa. It’s really good and I just think that I’d sleep better if I knew what happened. We only have morning training so if I’m tired I could just take a nap in the afternoon.”

“I understand you want to finish your book baby, but you aren’t pulling any more all-nighters. You need sleep, it’s not healthy.” You only responded with a pout, eyebrows furrowed together, locking eyes with her in hopes that she’d give in to you even though you both knew it wouldn’t work. You were constantly giving her this face yet she rarely gave in, especially if it was something related to your health and well-being. When she only responded with a blank stare, you dropped your head back to her chest to continue chatting.

As soon as you got comfortable again, the two of you immediately fell into conversation about anything and everything. You talked about the transfer window and all the current football news, the book you had been reading and all your thoughts on it, truly everything that popped in your head. Somewhere in the midst of your talking, you realized that the movie Aitana had put on in the background was actually somewhat interesting, making you split your attention between it and your conversation.

“Baby! Are you even listening?” she tickled your side lightly as a way of bringing your attention back to her.

“I’m sorry, Tana!” You giggled into her neck, hugging your arms around her tightly. “I was trying to listen but look, the movie actually got kinda good!”

“You never get through entire movies! And now when we finally get smart and put on a boring one you suddenly pay attention?!” She wasn’t actually mad at you, the huge smile on her face made that incredibly clear. You just beamed back at her. The two of you probably looked ridiculous as you both smiled at each other from ear to ear, saying nothing while the movie continued in the background.

“Aita, you should really pay attention, it’s good!” Your girlfriend rolled her eyes at you before following your attention back up to the television. The two of you managed to snuggle even closer together, if that was even possible. You still talked here and there when you thought of anything but were mostly focused on the movie.

It wasn’t long until you felt Aitana’s breaths evening out underneath you. When you lifted your head to look up at her, you found her sleeping peacefully, clearly exhausted from her busy day. You moved slowly in hopes of not waking her up, trying to reach for the TV remote to turn it off and go to bed. Of course the second you moved though, her eyes fluttered open and a look of confusion crossed her face.

“What are you doing, baby? I’m watching!” Her accent was thicker than usual, giving away her little nap no matter how much she wanted to pretend it didn’t happen. The way she pretended to hide the fact that she was falling asleep just so you could finish the movie made you smile. She was always doing things like this, and you couldn’t have been more grateful for it.

“Aita you’re falling asleep. We can finish it tomorrow night, it’s okay. Let’s go to bed.”

“No! No, I’m not falling asleep!”

“Okay, well I’ll just turn it off anyways and we can keep chatting.” Your girlfriend rolled her eyes at you, obviously knowing what you were up to, but still getting further settled under the blankets. You reached over to turn off the lights and plug in your phone before you ended up laying face to face with Aitana. Your legs were tangled together in the sheets and the two of you were just looking at each other, sharing a soft smile. Her eyes were wide open now that she had woken from her little nap, but you couldn’t decide if she was actually feeling that awake or if she was just trying to hide the fact that for once, she was the one who drifted off during a movie and not you.

“We should really be sleeping right now, Tana. We have early training tomorrow and we both know you like getting to bed early.” You could function just fine with little to no sleep, or at least you liked to think so, but Aitana was a different story. She was much more strict on her sleep routine and would definitely feel it if there was a change to it.

“I know…” she trailed off, going quiet for a moment. “… wait! Remember what Ingrid was telling us about their anniversary coming up?”

“Oh my god, yes! Do you think she’s actually gonna do it? I know Mapi would love another cat but I just can’t see Ingrid going through with it! Can you?!”

And there you were. Both exhausted, both needing to be up early in the morning, both excitedly gossiping about your best friends. This was normal for you but normally you were the one who started it and kept you both up later than you planned, not your girlfriend.

It was obvious that Aitana wasn’t used to being up this late when her accent became harder for you to understand and her words started slurring together. It slowly became an intertwined mix of English, Spanish, and Catalan that you had no hopes of comprehending.

“But Bagheera is su bebé, así que tal vez no want someone else para robar la atención and maybe- wait why are you laughing at me?”

“Tana, you’re half asleep and making no sense. You’re not even gonna remember this conversation tomorrow, I really think you should go to sleep.”

“I’m not even tired, though.” her grumbling was hardly audible as you just shook your head at her, amused by the reversal of your typical roles.

“Okay well I’m gonna go to sleep, you can keep talking if you want, okay?” her only response was an incoherent mumble as you curled up into her side and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Goodnight, mi Tana. I love you.”

I really like my other adhd!reader one better but we'll see. I don't love this one. I wouldn't be shocked if I still do more like this though.

Requests are always encouraged! I'm starting to run low on ideas lately!

Masterlist

#wosoreading24/7 #wosoreadingaitana #barcelona femeni #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati imagine #aitana bonmati x reader #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #espwnt x reader

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letstrywritingmaybe · 10 months

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I don’t normally hide my rants on this blog but it’s getting lengthy and I just need to sort out some feelings

Listen I totally get people who accept criticism and are open to listening to readers about things they could “improve” on their fics. And more power to you, I get wanting to better your craft! That’s great! But I’m not one of those people. I’m well aware I’m not a real writer and I’m not trying to be. I do this because sometimes I have these stories that I can’t keep in my head so it needs to come out, and I share them just in case someone else can appreciate it too. If you don’t, that’s totally fine, we all have our own opinions. But please just exit out, I promise it’s better if you just decide to close the tab. We will get nowhere. You won’t change my mind on where I want to go or have already gone with my fic, and I won’t cater to you. I’m a self indulgent writer, I write for myself first and foremost. Of course I’ve been inspired by my fellow shippers and I do write gift fics too, but I need an established connection to do so. And even then, I still enjoy what I write cause if I don’t even like it, how can I expect someone else to? I’m definitely not talented enough to put something together and think it’s good enough for someone else’s taste.

I’m ranting and this really doesn’t apply to most of you, but I’m just kinda at a loss for words (shocker I know cause I’ve just ranted so many above). Idk, maybe it’s because I’m such a good commenter (yes I take pride in the fact that my comments are genuine and I love to gush and send love letters), but it really rubs me the wrong way when I get a comment that I just don’t vibe with at all. Especially if this is our first interaction. I don’t know you and I guess it’s nice that you read my fic but also I didn’t ask you to? You could’ve exited out at any point and kept your thoughts to yourself. I don’t expect to only get good comments, I know how unpopular some of my writing/plots are but I still went this route because this is my story that I wanted to tell. And if you don’t agree with it, by all means go write it yourself and make it the way you want it! I highly encourage it! Writing for yourself is one of the best things you can do and it’s wonderful when you finally sit back and see that it’s done! You did it! You made something that you like, and that should be celebrated!

Okay the whole point of this is that I got a comment on a fic I haven’t really thought about in a while and it was kinda a long comment and I was like oh? Kinda wish I didn’t read it and now I’m kinda like how do I reply in a way that isn’t snippy? Cause the person wasn’t being super rude or anything but it’s just that we disagree. Which is fine! Everyone is entitled to their own opinions, but my thing is this is my fic I wrote for myself and this verse in particular is very much catered to me. And I purposely made some choices that I know isn’t necessarily popular as well as some experimenting, but it was the way I wanted the story to go and of course there was projection involved cause there always is in my fics.

Idk, I’m not necessarily hurt or super mad over this but it definitely made me feel a type of way. I think my big thing is I don’t know you and this does not make me want to know you. I encourage this kind of conversation with someone I’ve talked to before and feel comfortable talking to about my ideas, not a random stranger who decided to spend time to read my fic who didn’t necessarily enjoy it the whole time? Why continue to torture yourself? I don’t understand. You could’ve ended it and just noped out.

And I get it, but you posted your fic so you should be able to take whatever people say about it. Sure okay yeah, but have you considered that it’s kinda rude to just go around leaving reviews unprompted? I really do not expect people to leave me comments and I never ask for people to do so because again, I write for myself! This is purely for me! It’s a passion project! I’m not a business, I’m not trying to market myself, I do this because this is my story I want to tell. And I certainly don’t do it for attention, I wouldn’t be writing for this fandom if that’s what I’m looking for. I would definitely go back to my golden otp or really any of my other otps that are more popular with more active fans. Yes you can think what you think, but there’s also a time and place for speaking out loud about them. You can’t just go up to someone and say their shirt is nice but the pants are awful so the outfit is kinda meh just cause they’re out in public. Did they ask? No? And even if you do think that, you keep that shit to yourself cause you’re literally strangers! Mind your business, don’t make your problem my problem cause I’m just here living my life.

I guess I’m just annoyed, like I’ve definitely gotten way worse comments before and usually I ignore them or just brush it off. Which is likely what I’ll do here, it’s just annoying. Like really? Today you had to do this? My one day back home before going back to the Bay blues? Gee thanks.

Update: I believe in second chances, and the person ended up deleting their comment (which was nice) after I replied. I failed at not being snarky, but at that point it was way too early and I was at the airport so I didn’t care anymore. They did comment on another fic of mine which I guess was slightly better than the first one, at least my choices weren’t criticized here (even though I actually do get a lot of hate for that fic and I knew I would cause it’s controversial, but I had to get it out and I always tag and put warnings so if you don’t like it please just leave!! I don’t force anyone to read my fics!) so I was more civil replying to this one and I do kinda feel bad cause I know how hard it is to get comments. I really hope I didn’t scare them off commenting for you guys, just because I don’t seek validation doesn’t mean I should ruin it for other people. So hopefully they’ll still comment in the future… but yeah that’s that I suppose. I just really didn’t think I would have to deal with this after I restricted my account to registered users. Like I get saying shit anonymously cause you think you’re invisible or something, which is still not cool. People who send hateful anons are the absolute worse, the anon feature is for love letters only, don’t be a dick. But yeah, anyways I’m unfortunately back in the Bay and will hope to survive until I can go home for real. I also really really need to work on my July prompts, I swear I was going to but then I got in a foul mood *sigh it’s okay my man pitches today so we will think happy thoughts <3

#cynply ranting #listen I know I’m lots of love but there’s a reason I changed my @#I can’t be loving all the time anymore and I really don’t have the patience or heart to keep being nice and accepting #I do have a lot of love to give and I still love to send love #but I’m definitely wary of strangers. like I can be pleasant but not if our first interaction is a bad vibe #I’m an extrovert and I love talking to new people but not like this man #I’m tired. real life has been really draining and fandom is supposed to be my escape so this is not helping

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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iloveyoumorethansoup · 11 months

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I will be sitting here for the rest of the night diagnosing me with what’s wrong with me! Cause god it’s so much!!

#turns out yeah the adhd stuff bothers me but that’s just super frustrating and I can’t ever get a single thing done and forget to like eat #which is bad! really really bad. and it’s a terrible way to live and I’m trying to fix it cause this can’t keep going #but oh god the depression and the anxiety is hitting all time highs #i don’t have the energy. for anything. the only thing that gets me out of bed is work which I work 6 days a week all day so I’m out #but I can’t do anything like i used to. i used to have a perfect customer service mask and I just. i can’t do it anymore. i hide in the #kitchen and pack orders all day so I don’t have to talk. my manager keeps asking if everyone’s okay cause he never sees me smile anymore #i tell him I’m tired. but god it’s so much worse. half the time it feels like I can’t even move right everything’s so heavy #i hate coffee. I’m reliant on espressos to function. I get home shower and go right to bed. i feel like all I ever want to do is cry #I’m constantly second guessing myself. I’m constantly apologizing for taking up space and asking for anything at all #people keep telling me to knock it off and that I need to stick up for myself. but I think I lost myself somewhere #i keep being told if I keep it up I’m gonna get walked all over. but I can’t even breathe. i feel so claustrophobic just existing #I’m too much and I take up space and I’m too clingy and I ask for too much and I need way too much patience #and I want to fix it I want to fix me so I’m not like that. but I just don’t know how #they keep telling me I’m not asking too much but I know I am #one girl told me I deserved to be loved the way I loved others and everything just ached so bad. I’m just so tired. i feel like a broken #record. the people I wanna talk to it feels wrong. the people I’m close to have heard everything a thousand times. i just want reassurance #i just want to be loved. i just want to feel safe and comfortable and not like everything is just going to disappear. therapy. i need therap #desperately. if there’s two things that have stuck out to me recently it’s being told I deserve the kind of love I give others and that #i deserve the amount of effort back that I put in. i run myself dry. and a lot of times just feel ignored and talked over. i just want #someone to listen without having to grab the phone or get distracted or just sit long enough that they can tell the story they want to tell #soup talks #i just want to feel better. i want to go home. I’m not sure where that is anymore. it’s not a place. it’s a feeling #and nothing gives me that feeling anymore

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aajjks · 1 month

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tw/ hórny èx bf, tôngúè fückïng, orál sèx (fèm!rècíèvïng) ovèrstïmulúlátïôn, hè ís à crèèp, nôncôn, èxplïcït ând nsfw thèmès.

It’s hard to break up with someone like him because he doesn’t get the hint- it’s been barely 6 days and he finds himself right in front of your door.

Really horny. And quite frankly messed up.

He bangs on your door- at first he’s gentle, but then he finds himself losing his patience when you don’t open up after a few bangs at your door, even with the bell It’s not working.

He just might have to be a little bit more aggressive with it. See now, he doesn’t like being aggressive with you. He knows that you hate this side of him. That’s why you broke up with him in the first place.

It’s not really a break up to him though because you’re just trying to break and he thinks that this break has lasted way longer than it should have in the first place. So he takes deep breath, and he starts banging at it like a maniac.

“Yn! YN OPEN UP!” But you don’t. You’re really trying to test his patience and then you try to lecture him on his aggressive nature.

His pupils are dilated at this point, he’s feeling so crazy right now, it’s aching and his pants, and he has missed you like crazy-staring at your pictures is not enough anymore. Not at all.

It’s your fault, you know.

It’s your fault that you’re so beautiful and that you have his heart in your hands… he closes his eyes for a moment, and then he takes out the spare keys he had to your apartment-of course, you don’t know about them, but he had a locksmith make them for him.

Without any rational thinking- he unlocks your apartment with ease.

And soon the familiar scent of your home hits him and your ex boyfriend finds himself relaxing, his head feels a little better now. “Yn!~~~” he calls out your name with affection but you still don’t respond.

Weird.

So he decides to check if you’re home. He really hopes that you are because he needs to talk to you and… a lot of other other things.

First to fall of course it’s gonna be your bedroom, his feet, take him to the familiar room so easily, because he remembers every single room in your home, like the back of his hand.

And to his surprise? He hears the shower running. A Cheshire Cat smile spreads across his lips. But before he can think anything else, the shower drops sounds come to a halt.

Oh, so you must be done..

He waits- by sitting on your bed and waiting for you to come out, and he doesn’t have to wait long, so he unzips his pants, creepy? He doesn’t give a fuck.

He needs to fuck you and get you back. He has everything you ever want. Quite frankly, you can be ungrateful. Anyone would kill to be in your place… but too bad he wants you.

And there you are, in all your wet glory-with a towel loosely wrapped around your body, you gasp, expected, in surprised to see him, he smirks.

Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to scream at him, he doesn’t mind you can because he’s missed your voice a lot.

“Hi baby.” He greets you. Licking his lips, because he feels himself getting harder when he stares at your soaked, freshly washed body.

You look so sexy like this I can’t help but remember all the times he would fuck you senselessly in the shower or sometimes when you were done with it.

You’re just so irresistible. You get him so horny for no reason at all. It’s your fault and now you’re going to have to help him out.

“W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” You finally say something to him, even though you’re screaming at him like a maniac, he doesn’t mind.

“I can’t help it baby you know I love you and I can’t live without you-and I’m so horny right now.” He licks his lips again, getting up from your bed to walk towards you.

He needs to touch you right now.

“I told you you couldn’t break up with me but you thought you could.. so I just wanted to give you a little break, but I think it has lasted enough now I need you back.” He groans. You smell so good even his muscles are pulsing.

His eyes are you like a predator and You should know that you cannot escape.

He is way too strong for you.

“Come on now- look at me? I’m so fucking hard because I was thinking about you- and look at you.. fuck…” he breathes out, taking you by your waist.. but then he gets another idea.

So instead of holding you, he drops to his knees.

This is gonna get you so weak for him.

“Let me eat your pussy. Missed it so much.” He looks into your eyes when he grabs your legs. You barely manage to hold onto your towel, which was about to fall. And something switches in your eyes.

You have missed him too.

He smiles. “I bet you missed me too. Fuck- baby let me have a taste please- I’m doing this to make it up to you. I know I pissed you off, so let me make it up.” He breathes, slowly, removing the towel and he starts to tease you by rubbing his hands over to your clit.

You whimper, you’ve always been so weak for him.

He knows you need him-equally as bad as he needs you. And he’s going to make you realize it tonight. He leans his face closer to your cunt, and you grab his wide shoulders for support.

“Oh look at you baby- you’ve already started to get wet.” He coos, pressing a kiss to your thigh, and then his kisses get closer to your heat, “f-fuck. You’re so fucking bad for this.” You moan out. He knows that you’re trying to reject him still even though he knows what your heart and body really want.

Him.

“I know yn.. but fuck- you’re my bad habit.” He replies before he takes one of his fingers out of your pussy and he smashes his mouth into it- his tongue starting to eat you out.

“Nghhh fuck.” You moan as he starts to tease you again with his teeth- he’s so messy right now, all sloppy as he pushes his tongue in deeper and deeper.

That’s how you like it.

His mind is in a frenzy because the noises you’re making are purely sinful- your towel gals to the ground and your back arches.

He won’t let you fall.

He will make you cum in his tongue.

“Ugh fuck..” he groans as he eagerly laps at your juices, you’re giving him so much.

And he knows you’re already going to cum.

“A-Agh fuck don’t stop- don’t fuckin stop.” You command him and grab on his locks- that arouses him anymore- you taste so fuckin good.

He can kill anyone for you.

“O-Oh fuck- baby cum on my tongue- you can do it.” He praises you- his hands on your ass as he squeezes it, you pull on his hair.

His teeth graze your clit.

“Should I fuckin bite? Since you’re so *pants* fuckin mean to me? Nah.. I love you..” he barely manages to speak because you’re suffocating him and you’re going to cum.

“You can *pants* only cum if you come back to *pants* m-me.”

BNHA- hawks, aizawa, bakugo, deku

JJK- gojo, geto, toji, sukuna

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emismunch · 6 months

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†⠀warnings y disclaimers — eighteen+, sexual content (alluding), jock!abby, soft!abby, simp!abby, stubborn!reader, abby being a tease. part one.

—

jock!abby patience was wearing incredibly thin. she was always having to share you with ellie and she despised the situation just like the fucking brat — the one who demanded all your time and attention. okay, so maybe she was being a bit needy, and really the two of you hadn’t really said you were exclusive, but abby wasn’t with anyone else and didn’t want to be. she was stupidly sweet on you, and the sex was amazing. you were worth it for her to fight a little more.

jock!abby caved when it’s been an entire month and all she got were longing texts from you. saying you missed her but with classes, trying to keep your head above water, and ellie, you just didn’t simply have the time right now. although, abby blushed when you confessed she was important to you and you would see her soon. it’s the only time she’s thankful the interaction is filtered through a screen.

jock!abby called you the night before the game, she was supposed to be sleeping, or at least trying to, but with you on the forefront of her mind it seemed nearly impossible. she was embarrassed, your phone ringing four times, no answer. but on the fifth, you finally picked up. she thought you were ignoring her, avoiding her at the very least. but then you’re honeyed voice drips all over her heart and now it truly feels like the first day of spring.

“You should be sleeping, Abs. You have such an early day tomorrow and you need rest.” “I know, I just-” Abby took a moment to breathe, trying to calm herself enough to not reveal herself as a totally pathetic loser. “I’m so tense, baby. How am I supposed to sleep?” “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what has you so…tense.” You question suggestively, your voice lowering an octave. “Well, I haven’t see you in a month, so there’s that.” Abby hints, and you pick up on it immediately. “There’s a line of girls on this campus who would love to ease the tension for you. Pick one, I’m sure you wouldn’t have to go far.” Your tone is bitter, thinking of her with someone else, but you don’t have much room to feel jealousy. Not when Ellie would feel like you stabbed her in the back if she found out about your late night rendezvous with Abby. “Stop it.” Abby barked. “What?” “You’re honestly going to make me say it? When you’re the one who’s been avoiding me? Really going to make me beg for it, baby?” You snap. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” It’s useless now. Abby has you pinned. Honestly, you’re not even upset about it. “You don’t have to lie me. I already know what you want.” “Fine, I’ll bite. What do I want, Abby?” “You want to not like me, right? It’d be easier wouldn’t it? I bet it would. But you like me, sure as hell love fucking me, and that can’t sit well. Not when I’m the enemy, not when I’m so evil and cruel.” You were silent, only heavy breathing could be heard on the phone. “Just tell me to fuck off, tell me I’m mean, tell me I’m the worst and I’ll hang up and you won’t have to talk to me again.” Abby continues, as if she needs to say anymore. “Be a good girl for Ellie, baby. It’s why you’ve deprived me of your pussy, huh? Tell me you don’t want to feel my lips, my tongue, my fingers. Be a good fucking girl and say it.” You were biting your lip, a moan threatening to escape. Pathetic. “I-I don’t, this isn’t…” You choke up, and god you can practically see her grinning. “You don’t want me?” Abby teased. “It’s….god, please Abs.” “You fall asleep in my arms, but then ditch before I can wake up. You don’t wanna see me but text me for weeks how much you miss me. You’re going to have to do better than that. Tell me what you want.” You’re trying to get something out, anything but you can’t seem to form a thought when Abby keeps going on and on, your cunt clenching every time you hear her voice. You’re forgetting why you’ve kept your distance in the first place. “I wanna make you feel good, help with the tension. Baby, please let me.” She finally breaks you, but the both you are smiling and Abby’s light laughter edges into the small cracks of your heart. “Mmmm, baby. Tell me how good it feels to be fucking yourself with your fingers to the sound of my voice. Don't even bother lying this time.”

jock!abby thinks about your breathy moans, the wet sounds of your cunt bouncing through the mic and into her ears. she loves hearing you moan her name out, you’re so desperate for her. so willing to be whatever she wants you too even if it will cost you. abby feels bad, but then she sees you and suddenly she doesn’t care what kind of karma comes her way. if she gets to have you, isn’t it worth the cost?

jock!abby isn’t surprised when you’re knocking on her door three days later. it’s clear what you want or at least she thinks so. it’s almost midnight and abby thought you just want to fuck. she’d be more than happy to oblige. she’d pretty much do anything. you’re as sweet as they get, more than she deserves, but she takes it anyways.

jock!abby catches you with her unwavering strength, your legs wrapped around her waist and your arms locked around neck. you’re whispering how bad you need her, how much you’ve missed her, how shitty your week has been, and the only thing getting you through was telling her all about it. so, she lets you. it’s foolish maybe, but abby can only think with her heart right now, and it really wants to be with you.

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iwaasfairy · 6 days

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┌─ “ ! „ HEARTBEAT

tw. pseudocest, noncon, possessiveness, grooming?, age gap, blood, murder, a lot of trauma bonding

wordcount. 6k

a/n. thank yoUUUU rhi for betaing you are my favorite as alwaysssss I love you soooo much ♡♡

okkotsu yuuta x fem!reader

Blood is splattered on the ground of the dirty alley, and there’s another heavy thump when his kick once again lands on the kid’s skull and he moans in pain. He calls him a kid in his head because he’s got that shit-faced little attitude, and now an ugly gap where his front teeth used to sit, but he should be old enough to know better. As a couple passes by the narrow street, he shields things from view a little, before using the long edge of his sheathed sword to push the dumb, bloody face to the side. Because his eyes are starting to look like two overripe tomatoes from the impact, he couches down before the sandy brunet.

“You know what this is about?” Yuuta’s voice is hoarse. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but it’s been a busy week cleaning up your messes. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t mind. If anything, it makes him feel sort of useful. You’re good and kind and don’t get into trouble on purpose — which is why he’s here late at night making sure things get handled. Niisan’s got it, after all. He doesn’t bother to clear his voice. “Hey.”

“Take my cash,” the young man below him now whistles through the missing teeth, teary eyes darting around as he pats his hand all over himself to look for a wallet.

Yuuta scoffs. “I don’t want your money. If I did, you think I’d waste my time beating your face in like you had it coming?” The anxious, almost nervous lilt to his own voice doesn’t escape him. If you could see him now, you’d probably say that he was enjoying this too much - and while he is, the idea of this getting back to you doesn’t escape his mind. It won’t though, logically speaking. The kid probably wouldn’t be able to see straight for a couple hours, and you will never find out. “I want to know why you’re hanging around Rika’s kid sister.”

“Kid? W- I don’t know any Rika!” He yelps when he tries to lift his head and gets the handle of the weapon hit hard onto the bridge of his nose again, adding more blood to the mess that’s running all over the bottom of his face. Yuuta really can’t see it, lifting his top lip in slight disgust. Handsome, where? Just as much as this boy isn’t really a kid anymore, neither are you. But you’re younger, and deserving of protection — is it really so bad he wants to imagine you as his baby sister for a bit longer before you start trying to escape from under his wings?

Not that you’re going to go anywhere.

“I don’t know a Rika,” the blond whines again now, hiding his face into his hands to drool and hiccup against the cold floor.

“Orimoto Rika, has a kid sister.” Yuuta bites back, patience running really thin.

“O-I- I kn- oh, we’re in the same uni prep class!” He gets up to close his eyes and focus all his attention on not just kicking against his skull until the answers fall out. He knows that, how else would he even know to ask? The head damage takes it a few seconds to make the guy continue, sniffling. “We’re friends- or- my friend knew her. I liked her so we hung out a few times.” Yuuta’s hand is cold around the worn handle.

He takes a slow breath, watches the cloud of air as he lets it out. The promise ring glints in the light of the street, and it’s all familiarity and instinct that makes him brush his thumb over it. “Were you serious with her? Or did you tell her whatever so you could fuck her? Hm? Did you fuck my little sister?” The brunet snivels and whines under him when his foot lands back right before his face, demanding attention.

“I won’t talk to her anymore, I swear! I swear I w-won’t even - it’ll be like I never existed. Please.” The pitiful whining he’s doing, groveling like a dog below him - sort of reminds him of a younger him. Someone who didn’t have a purpose yet, and was scared of everything for it. The heavy weight of the ring clings to his hand when he lifts it to unsheath the katana, seeming to wrap a comforting palm around his own. If he could, he'd tangle fingers with her.

“P-please, let me go home! I didn’t do- I wouldn’t touch your s-sister, I didn’t know.”

“I hate guys who aren’t serious with her.” He clicks his tongue, and has to spit out the nasty taste that this entire situation leaves on his tongue. The weight of the sword is barely an inconvenience when both hands wrap around the handle properly. He’s doing this for Rika and him. Always. “She deserves so much better.” A mean flash of possession crosses his thoughts - how no one except him will ever be good enough. But he pushes it back, because that has nothing to do with why he’s doing this. Nothing.

“Yuuta~” Her voice haunts when he closes his eyes.

He’s in the sandpit of the Children’s hospital, rocking back and forth softly on the edge of it as he waits. The sun makes the sand nice and toasty, it warms his feet when he plants them down. “Yuuta!” It’s instinctive, when he looks up at the familiar voice. Rika’s hair travels in a perfect arc behind her when she runs to make it catch the light like a halo. Pretty blue dress making the shine of her hair even brighter, cheeks rosy, and her eyes glittering diamonds when they find his and she crashes down next to him. Her scraped knee is proof that it’s too hard, but he can’t help but smile when her cheek touches his arm on the landing.

Something hits the floor with a loud thump.

Yuuta turns over his shoulder to watch. There’s a smaller child that’s chin down on the earth behind them two, thick crocodile tears threatening to spill when Rika gasps. “Rika neechan~ Wait.” You pout, straightening up quicker than you should to reach your hands out to her. The girl hurries over to dust your cheeks off and drag you along behind her. It’s such a nice day out, Yuuta’s sweater is just thick enough to make his entire body warm. He stares at your face a little too long, before glancing between you two.

You’re still rounder than she is, but it’s undeniably eerie. “Your sister?” He asks softly, and Rika grins wide. She gently maneuvers you by the hand to sit next to her, then pulls you into a hug.

Her lips are pretty pink when she licks them. “This is Yuuta. Say ‘hi Yuuta’.” You parrot your sister obediently, as she waves your hand around at him. “Me and Yuuta are going to get married. So you should be very nice to him, okay?” Her sweet cheeks are the exact same as yours, long lashes and big, knowing eyes that always have him staring. You just look absentmindedly at the grass when Rika holds you into her side, but nod.

He smiles softly when your big eyes find his again. And Rika giggles. “And she’s gonna be your sister one day, so you gotta protect her well. We’re gonna be one happy family, promise?” She extends her arm to hold out a pinky finger at him. “That’s what I want.”

His fingers are pressing indents into your arm. It’s unusual. Yuuta’s always gentle, he’s soft and cares, but today his hand is screwed almost protectively tight around your upper arm, and you can’t say that you hate the feeling. Maybe childishly, you want him to squeeze even harder - so you’ll have no reason to get out.

You don’t come here a lot. Not since the accident tore open the painful scarred memory of it, but even before then, it wasn’t exactly your favorite place. It’s at Yuuta’s gentle prompting that you even managed to dress, and now walk however slowly between the low stone walls. The rain taps impatiently on the umbrella above, as the older boy casts you a careful glance. Then slowly bends to sit on his ankles, and grabs your hand ever so softly, meeting your eyes. His hands, though big enough to dwarf yours now, are almost velvety when they clasp around yours. It feels like he’s exponentially grown, while you’ve stayed pretty much the same.

Partly the illness. Mostly the age.

“Think you can go on?” he softly asks, kind eyes sympathetically regarding you. Like he’s making a judgment call about whether to turn back after all - debating the long walk back to the hospital. “I’ll be right here with you.”

“You’ve already gone before, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds a bit accusatory, a bit pouty too. Can’t be helped. Yuuta could be a living saint and you’d still find it hard. He clearly doesn’t take it to heart, because he smiles. His one hand then moves up to ruffle your hair.

“It’s still hard for me too, though,” his lips quirk up in an almost smile, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. It’s sort of comforting to know that even someone like him feels it. Of course he would. Your neesan was family, but Yuuta probably knew her better than you ever could. He was beside her when she got out the two times, and was waiting when she had to get re-admitted. He was there when she got hit— there’s a comforting brush of your cheek when he stands back up and the umbrella gets so much higher. Yuuta blinks. “Come. I think you can do it.”

Your chubby cheeks flood with warmth, as you take his fingers into your hands with a nod. “Okay.”

It’s like this that you wind up at the headstone, stepping through dredged earth that’s been walked on too much. It seems to cling to the bottoms of your shoes with intent - you squeeze Yuuta nii’s hand tighter at the sight of the family grave. It now holds three of your kin in a warm embrace under the several bouquets of wilting flowers, and however morbidly, you think that maybe you’ll be joining soon. You’re young, but it’s not lost on you when the nurses send each other pitying looks.

“Is this where neesan’s buried?” Your voice sounds pinched and small, and sort of pathetic. You imagine Yuuta nii cried when he came to the funeral, but he wouldn’t have whined. You’re whining. You don’t want Yuuta to get fed up with you. Not when he’s the last semblance of ‘family’ you have left. After a while of staring blankly at the stone, he nods, and turns over his shoulder to smile at you again, pulling you a little closer to him. Your arms loop around his waist, staring down at the pretty whites that shake under the rain. “Is this where I’ll be buried when I die?”

He freezes. You feel bad about the double take he does when his spine goes more straight, rigid limbs dropping by his side as a deep, uncomfortable breath makes its way out. Your hands wring together instead.

However long it takes for him to unlock his limbs is however long you breathe through your tears as they well up stubbornly along your lash line, before your head is pulled to his ribs into an embrace. He swallows back emotion himself. “That’s not- I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. I promise.”

“I’m sick-”

“No.” His eyes glint with something silvery when he takes your face between both hands and lets your childishness wash over him, clenching his jaw. “What happened to Rika was an accident- I- I couldn’t do anything then. But nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m here. I need- you to believe me.”

You don’t flinch when he uses your cheek to turn your face his way, but the urge still sits. His eyes study your face too intently, like he’s looking for something he can’t quite find. “I promised that I’d be a niichan that protects you.”

Rain splatters into a million glistening flecks as it meets the headstone.

“Okay,” you say.

It isn’t lost on you that his jaw is set too tight as he drags you back by the hand towards his bike, fist clenched around the umbrella. He breathes a tiny, ‘Later, Rika’ before turning on his heel. You don’t manage the same. Your voice gets stuck in your throat, even when he helps you up onto the bike rack in the back, pulling your face into his chest too tight- squeezes you to mold against him. He smells nice for a teen boy. The kiss he leaves on your crown is gentle, and leaves a soft warmth on your skin — You doubt it is really meant for you.

The door pushes open as you’re putting clips into your bangs, tongue trapped between your teeth. You cast Yuuta a glance through the mirror when he lingers at the door, and try to smile. “I’m almost ready.” You’re no longer too keen on fighting, the longer the silent treatment drags on. After a while of watching you with his arms crossed over his chest — he walks over to your bed to plop himself down and lets himself fall backward.

“I’m sorry,” the noiret sighs at nothing in particular, as you put on a necklace and after debating for a second, some perfume. The noise makes Yuuta look, studying you when you turn. It’s easy to forget sometimes that Yuuta didn’t have to stay with you, and he sure as hell didn’t have to give up a lot of his youth to take care of you like he does. Like your other family refuses to do when all the cards are on the table. He catches your stare. “You know I love you. I… worry when you’re not right here where I can see you. We stick together.”

“I know.” Your smile only barely makes your lips move, but you do mean it. You just wish realizations like this didn’t always have to come at the cost of fighting. “For what it’s worth, I’ll probably always forgive you.” You try to laugh, and brush your hair out of your eyes a final time before grabbing your bag. “I’m only going to be out for a few hours, max.”

Yuuta frowns when he sits up. His dark hair is brushed out of his face, damp and soft from the shower. “You’re still going?”

You blank. “Yeah, Himari and Shota are waiting for me. We’re going to see a movie.” He only has to let his eyes travel over your body and clothing once, for you to read what he’s thinking. You yank the edge of your skirt a bit lower, and pull your shoulders up. “What, what?! I can’t go out looking like this? It’s basically the same length as my uniform, what’s wrong with that?!”

“I didn’t say anything,” he breathes back, empty eyes regarding you with a static sort of- indifference, you guess.

“You don’t have to, niichan! God!” You turn to walk out the room, but Yuuta grabs your wrist when you pass by the bed. Sat down like he is, eyes tracing you like a lion- Yuuta no longer looks like the boy that used to draw stars on the ceiling of your hospital room for your amusement. Your cheeks heat when he basically glares straight at you for your attitude, and mulls the answer around in his mouth. Your anger subsides as you take a breath. This is the guy who makes you fresh apple juice in the morning, and calls you up between shifts. Because he cares. He just cares.

“Can I please go, Yuuta nii?”

After a few seconds, he clicks his tongue, staring at the edge of your skirt before tugging at it too, barely hiding a frown you can see dig between his brows. “You know I don’t like that Shota kid?”

Your lips jut out. “Yeah…” It’s getting awfully close to time to leave. You take a step back just to get his hands away from you. It’s distracting, and this is your brother you’re dealing with. “But he’s really nice. He started high school already but he used to be in my class the last three years, so… so you don’t have to worry. He knows I can’t do everything because I’m sick and he says—”

“Yeah, I’m sure he says everything you want to hear… You’re smarter than this. You don’t actually believe that.”

“He’s my friend.” A friend that makes your heart beat a bit faster when he smiles at you, but what’s it to him? “He doesn’t lie.”

Yuuta grimaces when you stare him down. “Don’t tell me about teenage boys, I used to be one.” He bristles before sitting up straighter, and though he’s technically below you, you still feel his energy tower as those big, dark eyes stay on your face. “Are you really ‘going to see a movie’? Or are you just going to sit in a boy’s room all night while I’m worried sick-”

You’re about ready to walk out, but his fingers are still looped around your wrist. “We are going to the movies! Himari and I! Just because a boy is there- ugh! Niichan, don’t make it weird!” The heat burns higher on your cheeks when you ball your fists, ignoring the pressure behind your eyes. This is so embarrassing. “I want to go.”

It’s quiet for much too long, making goosebumps appear all over your exposed skin. Then he breathes. “Come here.” His voice has more of an edge than it used to. You used to like the way your name fell from his lips. You’re not so sure you do anymore. Instead of storming out and forgetting all about him, you stare back at the sharpness in his eyes. When he pats his lap with familiarity, you jerk a brow. But you sit. His breath brushes along your neck too softly where he’s seated. It tickles on the way down.

It almost feels like… like he could wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stopped struggling.

Yuuta nii wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

Fingers come to your necklace, undoing it, and it drops into your lap on the pretty, blue skirt. It’s suddenly much too cold in the room, and you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. It’s fine. You’re fine. Yuuta is family.

Still the untouched skin of your neck feels too exposed.

If he notices your rigid posture, he doesn’t bother fixing it. Just reaches, then pushes your head forward. The childishly familiar pink, bedazzled heart he holds up instead glints, swaying from where you left it on your side table for the night. “You get back at 9,” his lower voice sounds, “or else I’m driving out to wherever you are and dragging you back to my car.” When you don’t say anything in response, he brushes away your hair from your shoulders.

“Yuuta nii,” you start, clamming up when he drapes the dainty thing around your throat and does the closure for you. “I wasn’t going to wear that one tonight.” You don’t always want to wear whatever Rika left behind until infinity.

“I think you will,” he breathes back, and kisses your exposed shoulder. It’s less sweet, more something to punctuate his statement. If he wasn’t so familiar and soft, you’d immediately fight against the way his strong arms wind around your waist to anchor you in his lap. “Just wear it.” His hands stay against your skin, long after he’s finished. Too long, and after seconds of sitting in the tense silence, you jerk up off his lap to grab your discarded bag from the floor. The other necklace drops to the carpet somewhere, but you don’t care.

“Fine,” you bring out tightly, before giving him a last look. Your bottom lip trembles a slight bit, so you suck it into your mouth to make it stop. And tears sting at the corners despite yourself. “Later, then.”

“Tell Himari that niichan says hello. It’s been so long since she’s been here.” He gets up from your bed too, and you resist the urge to rush out the room before him when he steps around you. You can’t fight the feeling that somehow… you were just caught in your lie. Your phone beeps in your bag, as Yuuta nii disappears around the corner. Shota, probably.

Blood. The door creaks, swings against the wind.

Dead.

You hope he’s dead. Blood pools at the center of the showers, sinks down the drain too slowly. It sticks to the pretty porcelain tiles of the old school locker room before the water gurgles it down.

They’re dead.

You don’t have to question it before it’s confirmed. Before the heavy, silver cleaver is lodged into the side of the already ruined skull. All of them. All of the boys of the soccer team seem to be present, though you don’t want to try and count. Counting makes it real. This shouldn’t be. The heavy thump makes way for a gross squelch when he yanks the metal out, and keeps the body down with his foot.

The spatters on his face are still wet. You can’t help the way your voice comes out when you breathe in deep and try to keep the tears from spilling over. The cleaver’s red and sticky and so is his hand, up to his forearm, his forehead from wiping his hair away. All of it, ruined.

“Y-yuuta nii?”

The metal door of the locker slams closed with the wind and hits you in the back, sending you skittering forward a few steps before you force the air out of your lungs with a stuttered pant.

With a soft smile, he turns over his shoulder. “Shhh.” The blood’s crusted under his nails when he presses a finger to his lips, then waves you closer. “Help niichan out?” His eyes glint over, before his smile goes a little wider, and he whips the blood off the weapon onto the ground. “S’ your fault I had to do this after all. We can clean up together. Hm?”

Your breathing is so shallow that you can feel your heartbeat in between your ears. You aren’t sure why you nod. The guilt tastes bitter on the way down.

Rika was dead on impact. She didn’t have a chance, even after she fought so vehemently against what took your mom. You know that. Even if she didn’t get struck by misfortune then, she might’ve not lived past her teens.

Yuuta doesn’t seem to know. He also doesn't seem to consider the same for you either— letting you toy with the edge of his shirt where you’re curled into him in your too-small bed. The hospital wants you back for another check-up.

It’s true that you’ve already outlived your sister, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last forever. Yuuta nii doesn’t want to hear it. As he brushes your hair with his fingers, you scratch the arm where the IV’s always get attached with an absent minded pout. Until Yuuta notices, pouting down at you. “Are you still feeling dizzy? I can make you some green tea if you’ll let go of me for a few minutes. Lots of honey like you like.” You quickly shake your head.

To him this is final, the worst you’ll ever get, and in reality that’s probably not the case. You don’t tell him though. His deep eyes stay on you a little too long. “What’s wrong?”

Sometimes you wake up and can’t open your eyes past a blurry sliver, your head tight enough to make your skull feel like it’s caving in. Times where you have to clasp your stomach painfully tight to hold yourself together — stumbling in tears into Yuuta’s room. Like you’ll disintegrate in his arms unless you lock him around yourself. This isn’t as bad, but you still feel bad.

Feverish and cold all at once, achy where your stomach goes up and down. You can’t mention the possibility of having to go back into urgent care without aniiki spiraling, so you keep your mouth shut. “I don’t like green tea,” you guiltily admit instead, and stare up at him when he holds a few knuckles to your head, studying you.

His expression scrutinizes you a little tighter, before he pets over your crown. He presses a soft kiss onto your lips. It’s Rika that loved it, you want to say, but for some reason you can’t make the words come out. He sighs, slightly put out, but then nods. “If you’re feeling better later, maybe you can help Yuuta nii with the curry. Okay?”

“Mhm,” you smile up at him, and you can see how the muscles in his jaw unclench.

His soft hands cup your face intently, staring down at you too intently. It starts sweet, until the feeling of his breath dust over your face and you watch as he flicks his eyes all over you. “You look so much like her. I can tell now that you’re getting older though,” his thumb smoothes over your soft cheek. “We should see if there’s something in Rika’s stuff you can still wear.”

“Won’t be able to fit it anymore, niichan.” Your voice comes out apologetic, though you don’t know why.

“Hm. You might be right.” His look goes more distant before he pulls you closer. Legs tangled, arms loosely looped around you. “You’re still smaller than me though. Luckily.” He takes a deep breath, before nuzzling his nose into your crown to breathe long and deep. His warm hands trail over yours before squeezing. “I love you, you know that? Always will.”

You stare at the wall of mementos past Yuuta’s shoulder. Suffocatingly cram packed. Her pictures. Her music poster. Her pre-teen bottle of perfume you wear only on special occasions. Your hands stop toying with the edge of his shirt to brush instead along his forearm until you meet something that isn’t skin. Yuuta’s quiet, but his breathing is slightly pinched— you don’t mean to.

You glance between you two to the plastic your finger hooks onto. The bracelet she made in the hospital care ward for Yuuta that he still wears despite the fact that the color has long peeled off of the cheap beads. “You loved neesan, right?” Your lashes almost brush when you look back at him, watch him trap his tongue between his teeth for a moment as pink sits on his cheeks. His hand wraps around yours to tangle fingers.

“I… did.”

He swallows. “She made the hospital seem a little less lonely.” The mementos seem to stare at you from across the room as he speaks, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach refuses to fade. If anything, it gets more painful. Tighter. “We’re going to be together forever though. And I,” he squeezes your hand, voice fading to barely a whisper, “I love you. Love you so much.”

There's a cold slid over your fingers when he moves. You allow him to slip off the band, gently, and almost as if he wants to give it to you without you noticing, his fingers slide the cursed thing onto your hand instead. His smile is gentle, makes those dark eyes look a little less pressing. “When you’re cleared from going back to the hospital, we can find me a matching one. We still have to get married, right?”

The room feels cold.

“... Okay.”

“Let’s kiss?”

It’s too late to be early when the shared bed gets crowded over on your side. “St- I’m going to sleep, Yuuta nii. Stop.” You don’t open your eyes to the touch, definitely not to the gentle brush of his fingers over your lips when he gets too close. Always too close- it’s suffocating. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Don’t be like that.” He sounds happy. He always sounds like that when it has to do with you, and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open when the thumb instead pushes into your mouth. “If we get married, this will be normal. Don’t pull back.” He pushes onto your tongue to make you hold it in your mouth all heavy and tasting of him, then leans in to push his forehead to yours. Deep, possessive eyes pinning you in place.

“You don’t want to?” It almost sounds mocking. You know you brought this on yourself. You asked to go home early, you asked to invite friends. Maybe this is payback the way big brothers give it. There’s tears that spring up anyway when his other hand slips under your shirt and he squeezes your soft belly. As the spit he wipes on your lips gets kissed away by an impatient sigh. “I’ve wanted to for such a long time. You wouldn’t ask me to wait more.”

“Yuuta nii. We’re siblings, aren’t we?” The ring glitters. Your hand is clenched into the front of his shirt as warm hands grab down your body— hands you love. Hands you trusted.

“Of course we are. That’s why I’m doing this, silly girl.” Hands that push your underwear down your round hips despite you fighting to keep them up. He giggles when you burn with embarrassment, before pressing kisses to your temple. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Who better to kiss you than big brother?” You shake your head, try to push- he doesn’t budge. Just keeps your body in place under his with his weight.

“G-get off of me, Yuuta! Stop being so weird!” You cry, pushing until he grabs your wrist and forces it down beside your head. He’s still smiling though, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like you’re still a child acting out. It’s that which makes you squirm more, and the glare digs into your forehead when he gets on top of you. “Stop~ I don’t want to kiss.”

Instead he laces his fingers with your ring hand, as the other patiently flutters down to rub over your pussy. You don’t want to. You don’t. Yuuta just smiles when he tilts his head to regard you, and squeezes your fingers a little tighter. “Rika-chan asked me to take care of you. Don’t get so mad.”

It’s getting cooler and cooler and cooler the longer he stands. Pressed in the corner of the sterile, greenish blue atmosphere with white sheets draped over your body. He takes a long, deep breath until the nurse finishes up with the checks, taking freshly drawn blood away in a vial. “You’re the guardian?”

The red stands out against your complexion as your restless sleep drifts deeper— he shifts in his seat to lace his hands together. “Her big brother, yes.”

She doesn’t bother to pretend to care when tapping her clipboard, gives a distracted smile. “The doctor will be here within the next hour, okay? Please wait here until then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yuuta’s quick not to let the smile quirk up onto his mouth when she’s already walking out before he finishes. As soon as the door falls into lock he gets up from the uncomfortable chair to kneel by your bedside and grasp your hand.

Soft. Small.

He hates to admit that he could spend hours here by your side; but the truth is the truth. He could, and he has. And he will, until it is no longer necessary.

Yuuta kisses your hand with a gentle smile, feeling your heartbeat thump under his lips. You mumble, he swears he can hear his name. “I’m here. Niichan’s here.” He smiles a little more when the soft fingers wrap back around his hand and he watches your expression relax even in your sleep. He can’t help it, the soft thumping against his cheek makes his entire body warm.

You’re so alive, and so close- every cell in his body yearns to be beside you. He kisses the area between your thumb and pointer in an attempt to soothe the feeling of biting down entirely. Instead he clasps your hand with two of his before standing up. “You would have loved Rika.” His mouth tingles. “She would’ve hated you- but you would have loved her. I think she would have been a bit jealous though.”

He dips to press a soft kiss onto your lips, humming softly when your warm breath dusts over his cheeks. “You’re so cute.” A few years ago, you would’ve had visitors waiting for you. “I know you were looking forward to graduation, but I’m still here for you.” He places his hands on both sides of your face to hover over you instead of pulling back, can’t keep himself from it.

“You don’t want to leave your niichan, right?” It’s not your fault that everyone else wants you to move on. He’ll take you just as you are. He has to force himself to pull back before he kisses you again, so you don’t wake just yet. You will. And you’ll cry into his chest about missing your precious graduation, and about being stuck here again, just when you were getting better. He never much wanted you in uni anyway.

From his space sat on the edge of your bed, he can easily see how the blanket squirms. How the motion curls and wiggles until he easily pulls the sheet down your chest, then your stomach.

Two beady eyes stare up at him as he brings his face a little closer. The fly head is still clinging to your stomach, hasn’t moved from where he left it. By now it’s become an accessory every few months. It’s not strong enough to kill you— just barely enough to keep you believing you’re still sick, and that’s all he really needs. You need his care, need him. He resists the urge to pick the thing up at least until he can take you back home.

Instead he nudges it up a little higher, so he can place his palm onto your belly to stroke gentle circles in its place, feeling the heat through the gown. He can feel your heart bounce all the way down your body, it’s so cute. When the little fodder curse crawls onto your chest, lids shooting open as you gasp. “Yuuta nii-” Your eyes are lined red, and as soon as they find him you start bawling.

More than happy to let him hike you up from the bed and into his arms, where you bury your face into his neck. Your hiccups are so cute. It’s easy to kiss them quiet when you don’t have enough breath to ask him to stop. He’s sure this time he could slip his tongue into your mouth and you wouldn’t say a thing.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #jjk yuuta #yuuta smut #tw.pseudocest #tw.grooming #tw.noncon #tw.yandere #tw.dark content #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu yuuta #🍯.honeypot

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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konigenblobbity · 11 months

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It’s All Written Down [Part 1]

Hobie Brown x Spidey!F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Miguel being a prick, protective Hobie

—> [Part 2]

Summary: Due to your silent nature, you haven’t been the best at bonding with people. Miguel and Jess decided to give you a chance due to your skills. But as time passes, and the only person you warm up to is Hobie, Miguel’s patience grows thin and he decides to hold a meeting, without you, to make the call that you can’t be a part of the team anymore. You end up overhearing them and decide to make it easier by just listening to Miguel… and leaving.

Hobie should’ve known something was off when you weren’t at the meeting. He thought you might be late but even that was a stretch knowing you. It seemed that he was the only one who really knew you, no one else picking up on your disappearance.

You’d always been a ‘lone wolf’ of sorts… not because you wanted to be, but because you weren’t the type to really approach people, or even open up to them. You’d always learned that being quiet kept you out of trouble, it also kept you out of people’s hair.

Hobie picked up on it the moment you joined, you hadn’t taken your mask off once the day you arrived, it immediately intrigued him. He ended up commenting “love that anti-establishment vibe ya got, all going against the grain by not showing your face to these A tier strangers. I like it” you only gave a small nod, that was all it took for him to become fascinated by you.

He’d run up to you whenever he saw you at HQ, rambling on about his most recent demonstration or performance. He didn’t expect a response, rather liking how you’d only nod your head or let out short laughs when he cracked a joke. “Nah, I can only tell you this stuff, seeing as Miguel would get all on my ass bout it” when he hears your soft laugh he grins.

“Was that a laugh? Eh?” When you ignore him, and glance away he just pokes at your arm. “I know ya got your mask on but I can tell you’re grinnin” you try to nudge him away playfully, “you can’t tell nothing” but he continues to poke at you before throwing his arm around your shoulder. “I can read you like a book” He was right, you were smiling… the fact that he knew only made you smile more.

You’d have never expected Hobie to be so warm to you. Your silent and curt nature often pushed others away, thinking you were narcissistic or self-centered, or even just straight up strange. But not Hobie, he’d welcomed you with open arms, not trying to change you, or make fun of you. He made you feel safe.

After the first month, you began to spend more nights in Hobie’s dimension, killing time together, simply enjoying each others company. And one day, as you both decided to knock out for the night, you took off you mask right in front of him. Freezing immediately as you did. He hadn’t seen your face yet, no one in the team had.

When you began to stay over, he had made you a little sign to put on the door handle of his guest room which read “Mask off, so fuck off”. It made you giggle when he gave it to you and he just shrugged. “Wanna make you feel comfortable Briney Marlin, especially if you plan on crashing here more often” you found the act endearing.

“Briney Marlin?” You tilt your head and he just smiles at you. “It’s cockney love. For darlin’… is it alright if I call you that?” You think for a moment but nod “I don’t mind Marlin” and from then on that was his little nickname for you, you liked it cause it was unique… and cause it was from him.

But now, there you stood, mask in hands, eyes looking down at it. You look at Hobie’s figure lying on his bed with wide eyes, his eyes still focused on the guitar in his lap, he wasn’t even looking at you. You don’t speak, so he does. “I haven’t seen a thing yet Marlin… you can still put it back on” those words warmed your heart, you pause for a moment, thinking over his offer, but decide otherwise, shaking your head slightly and smiling.

“No. That’s alright” at those words he looks up at you, his eyes focusing on your features, he then gives you a reassuring smile. “Well aren’t you just ravishing love” he said it in a tone which made your face heat, but there was still a platonic nature to it. Letting you know that he wasn’t going to make a big fuss over this.

After that, you never wore your mask in Hobie’s place, enjoying that it was only in his company that you feel comfortable enough to do it. Over the three months you’ve been with the team, you bonded the most with Hobie, you became practically inseparable at HQ and the more comfortable you got with him, you slowly became more comfortable with the others.

You did a lot of missions together, getting to know the team more, specifically Gwen and Pavitr, seeing as they both knew Hobie in a similar way you did. Although, it did warm your heart how often Hobie would choose to walk with you, even if it was just to ramble to you about his life.

However you still didn’t open up to them about your life outside of your spider-persona. They didn’t seem to have any problems with you, just happy to hear your voice more and seeing you become more confident in taking action during the missions. You really didn’t think there were any problems with your secrecy.

That was… until todays meeting. You were at Hobie’s place, fidgeting with a small tennis ball he kept somewhere among the mess of clothes, stolen gadgets, and music gear. You had no clue where he was, you hadn’t gotten any info about a meeting at HQ and just thought he was out. Even though he usually told you when he was.

Back at HQ, everyone stood around waiting until Miguel finally walked in. “Perfect. Everyone’s here” he says before standing at the front, hands on his hips. Before he can begin, Hobie speaks up. “Oi, wait a sec, Marlin isn’t here, I’ll call her over” he goes to pull out his phone but stops when Miguel speaks “No. She’s not a part of this meeting”

Everyone looks at Miguel now, brows furrowed before exchanging glances with one another. “What d’you mean by that?” Hobie tried to hide his growing unease, not liking the tense mood shift in the air. Miguel just lets out a long breath, Jess butting in with a hushed voice. “Told you they aren’t gonna like this…”

“They don’t even know what ‘this’ is” Miguel retorts back. Hobie then steps forward, closer to the front, closer to Miguel. “And I already don’t like it… seeing as it doesn’t involve our lil Marlin” Miguel brings a hand up, rubbing his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Just hear me out. Then we’ll discuss it.” At that Hobie just nods as a sign for him to explain. The others moving in closer, curiosity growing as more silence fills the room.

You sigh, checking the time again, feeling as if it was passing slower. You sit up on the bed, tapping your fingers on the bedsheets impatiently. You finally stand up and decide to look for Hobie. “Maybe he got hung up at HQ…” you think to yourself, using your watch gizmo to open up a portal to it. Stepping through it.

As you walk through HQ, greeting a few other spider-people with a kind nod or short wave. You ask a few of them if they’ve seen Hobie. Most of them shake their heads before one finally points to the main room where Miguel usually is. You thank them then continue walking.

As you walk closer to the main room, you hear raised voices, quieting your footsteps. “That’s not fair to her Miguel!” Gwen’s voice sounds frustrated, and you can then hear Miguel’s stern one. “It’s the best move for everyone. You can’t deny her lack of communication skills” your brows furrow as you begin to wonder why you weren’t invited to this meeting.

“Doesn’t make her any less valuable” your ears perk up at Hobie’s voice. You’ve never heard him talk like this, his tone serious and hostile, as you peeked your head around you saw his expression was full of rage. “I’m sorry Hobie but your ‘Marlin’ just isn’t fit for this work” that’s when you step back in shock, realizing they were talking about you.

“What, just because she doesn’t like to run her mouth?” You watch as Miles also steps in, feeling your heart warm at everyone standing up for you. Peter then tries to calm everyone down with a soft voice “Miguel just listen to them… you can’t make such a rash decision for her. I’m guessing she doesn’t even know about this?” Miguel’s silence tells him everything he needs to know.

“That sounds about right. You’re being a right prick… and you don’t even seem apologetic for it!” Hobie raises his voice which causes everyone to look at him, shocked. Expect Miguel, whose expression only becomes more stern as he tilts his head up looking down at the Brit.

“You’re right, I’m not. But don’t worry, she’ll get a choice… either she does solo missions or she leaves” you take another step back, fully grasping the situation. The voices of the others begin to fade out as you start to get caught up in your thoughts.

“Miguel you can’t put that much on her… she only joined 3 months ago, you really think she’ll manage on her own?” Peter speaks with his voice laced in concern, Miguel looks at him, expression reading indifference. “That’s up to her. Do you think she’ll manage on her own?”

Everyone goes silent. Not because they don’t think you’re capable, but because they don’t know how to respond. That is until Hobie speaks up. “She’d manage just fine, but we both know she’s built to work in a team, solo missions are too much pressure” Miguel then shrugs and simply says “Well… then maybe she should choose option two”

Those are the final words you hear before you decide to run off, opening a portal back to Hobie’s apartment. You jump through and then stumble before sitting down on the bed. You try to control your breathing, feeling as if your heart was beating out of your chest. You take off your mask, hoping it would help.

‘Maybe she should choose option two…’ Miguel’s words ring in your mind. As much as you wanted to deny it, you thought he was right. You weren’t ready to work solo, the idea of trying to contain an anomaly all by yourself? You weren’t ready for that. You realize that this is exactly what Miguel wanted…

He knew you wouldn’t be ready to complete missions by yourself, so he gave you only one other option. To leave. You quickly search the room, finding a pen and paper and began to write something down. Trying to find the right words… the right way to say goodbye. To you, the only thing that was worse then this, would be saying goodbye to Hobie’s face.

Hobie stood face to face with Miguel, their foreheads practically touching, the others swear sparks could be seen between their heads. “Back down you old Geezer…” Hobie smirked as he spoke, wanting to get under Miguel’s skin. He knew he succeeded as he watches him bare his teeth as a low growl can be heard in his throat.

That’s when Peter steps in, putting both his hands on Miguel’s chest, meanwhile Pavitr begins to pull Hobie away as well. “Both of you… relax. This decision isn’t even final until we talk to her about it. I’m sure we’ll figure something out” his tone is calm but cautious, not wanting to upset either of them.

Gwen nods in agreement. Pavitr gently pats Hobie’s shoulder trying to get him to calm down. Hobie then shrugs off Pavitr’s touch, and then puts his hands in his pockets. “You were never on her side…” he scowls towards Miguel before walking off. Ignoring the calls of his friends from behind him.

He opens up a portal back to his place, feeling his body relax slightly as he steps through. He places his guitar against the wall and looks around. “Marlin? Ya there?” He calls out to you, but hears nothing. He throws his mask onto his bed, his brows furrow as he spots a note next to where it landed.

He picks it up and immediately recognizes your hand writing, he feels his breath catch in his throat as he begins to read it. He slowly moves to sit down on the bed, gripping the note tighter the more he reads.

Dear Hobie,

I choose option two. I hope you’re not mad at me… I can’t bear the idea of you remembering me in anger. I just couldn’t tell you this to your face. I went looking for you and then overheard your meeting with the others… I understand why you guys didn’t invite me. I’m not fit to be a part of this team. You’re the only one I really trust, the only person who I comfortable enough with to drop my spider-persona around… I can’t thank you enough for that. Please don’t look for me, I did what I had to do, but couldn’t leave without finding some way of saying goodbye. So here’s it is… all written down. Goodbye Hobie… I’ll miss you.

Your Marlin.

Once he read it all he curses under his breathe, then notices your watch next to him on the bed. He picks it up, recognizing the small customizations you both put on the band together. The way it matched his own. It made him smile at the memory but then he felt grief all over again.

He grabs his mask, putting it on hastily before pocketing both the note and your watch. “Where did you go Marlin… you’re not leaving me that easily” he jumps out of his window and swings off into the night.

#konigenblobbity #fanfiction #fanfic #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse fanfic #across the spiderverse hobie #hobie spiderverse

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primofate · 2 years

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Interrupted make-out session [Genshin Impact]

Notes: This was also a request and I liked it but for some reason I can’t find the ask anymore, I might have accidentally deleted it. Has been sitting in my drafts for a while cause idk how else to make it better. It’s still a little cringy to me, tbh.

Warnings: VERY STEAMY but generally still SFW bordering on not, you’ve been warned though, not proofread, some possessiveness, yes there are sexual innuendos, mentions of alcohol and drinking, did i say not proofread?, if there are pronoun slips please let me know.

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Ayato, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Itto, Kaeya, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Aether

The two of you never really meant for it to turn into a make out session. With Aether, there’s a lot of patience and no pushing to do things. It just happened spontaneously while cuddling in bed.

The first kiss was innocent. Just a quick peck on the lips. But something in him seemed to spur him on and suddenly he’s leaning in for another one...and another one...and another... He’s still slow about it, giving you the chance to say no but also hoping that you don’t pull away. When you don’t, he peers into your eyes and sees that they’re clouded over, just as his is and he puts his all into the next kiss.

His hand cradles your neck, his kiss is nearing hungry, wanting more of your soft lips on his. It’s an addiction now and you’ve wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the already passionate exchange. You open your mouth to let his tongue slide in, the kisses are getting sloppy, wetter. Your legs are tangled together and the heat between your lips blooms in your stomach and has you silently begging for more. The raw emotion makes you weak.

“Hey! Why is the door locked?! Did you two forget about Paimon?! Let me in!”

The two of you pull away abruptly. Panting and flushed, Aether more so than you. There’s a subtle disappointment in his eyes, but he’s a gentleman so he smiles and gathers himself, smooths down your hair and his, kisses your nose and utters a quick “I love you,” before pushing off the bed and letting the clueless Paimon in.

Albedo

Did he plan it? You’ll never know. He took you to Inazuma with him when he was commissioned to paint The Five Kasen. Of course, he took Klee with him too.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been alone,” Albedo sets down the tea on the kotatsu and sits next to you on the tatami floor. Klee is out with the traveller and Yoimiya, and though he feels a little bad for not being able to take Klee around, he was really rather busy with the preparation of the paintings.

What you didn’t get was why he wouldn’t let YOU go with Klee instead. It’d been midday when he emerged from his separate work room and sought you out. And now the two of you sat side by side each other, you feel him snake an arm around your waist. “You’re done with the painting?” You question him as he presses a kiss on the side of your head.

“No,” he simply replies. The next time he dips his head, it lands on your lips and you instantly recognize the need in it. He rarely initiated kisses like this, the type that fanned a fire in your belly. It’s not a hungry kiss, but its long and his lips constantly move against yours, just as your head tilts to the side to give him more access.

Your hand slides away from the teacup and rests on his shoulder, his arms are coming up to your back and pressing you further into him. When he breaks away he only does so to dip back into your neck, trailing kisses up to your ear. “‘Bedo--” You shudder a little at the light and quick pecks...until your ears pick up on familiar little, running footsteps and the door making a small rattle before the two of you break away and it slides open to reveal a very happy Klee, bursting with joy about her adventures.

You pretend to be drinking tea, though Albedo’s hand is still around your waist, he clears his throat before greeting his sister. “Welcome back, Klee,”

Ayato

Intentional but has an excuse for it and kind of blames you for it.

It’s rare that he gets to go to a festival with you, but he decided that he could take a break today and walk around. Inazuman festivals are always looked forward to, with lots of stalls, festivities and the closing fireworks, it’s an enjoyable time for everyone.

For Ayato, however, he can’t help but keep staring at your kimono-clad form. You rarely wore them, only on special occasions. Simply said, you looked even more charming than usual.

So then was it his fault that he pulled you into a small alleyway in between two Inazuman houses and started kissing you? No. Not at all.

“A-Ayato--There are people--” He’s gentle when he maneuvered you against the wall, but his kiss was not. He nips at your lips in a teasing manner, and recaptures your lips over and over again with only a second to breathe between each one, his hands sliding up your hip to keep you in place.

“If you’re not too noisy they won’t notice, darling,” Ayato hides a smirk as he whispers to you, going back in for a now open mouthed and hot kiss. He just can’t get enough of you. Every breath he took was like breathing in lust and fire, seducing him to keep his mouth sucking yours.

Then, he feels something bump against his foot, he pulls away abruptly, one of his arms still leaning onto the wall next to your head and he looks down to see a colourful ball there. The sounds of kids shouting about kicking the ball too far and running after it makes him pull all the way back, just in time for the kids to stop at the entrance of the alleyway and look at the two of you quizzically, then down to their ball.

Ayato merely kicks it back towards them, and they don’t ask any questions, just caring about the fact that they can continue their game. He does pull you over and out of the small space though, despite you still being flushed and easily says. “We’ll continue later, care to come over?”

Dainsleif

Not a particularly jealous person but there are times where he can’t really stand other people giving you too much attention.

Wolvendom was apparently a dangerous place. Not for Dainsleif. Dainsleif might have been more dangerous than Wolvendom itself. So despite the dangers of the forest you find yourself at ease when he’s around.

The plan was to just pick wolfhooks, but things escalated pretty easily when you found your back against a tree and Dainsleif hovering above you. He didn’t have his arms out, nor was he pushing you towards the tree, but his gaze stayed you there. “...There was a man at the tavern who was a little touchy with you,” he started and you realized he had somehow been watching that exchange.

“He was drunk, Dain. He was kicked out a little later,” You explain as he cups your chin and levels his gaze towards you.

“...I don’t like it,” he simply says and you nod saying that you knew. No one would. However, instead of him complaining he translates his frustrations into a rather forceful kiss. Him pressing against you and trapping you at the tree, you didn’t resist, you had no intention to and all you could do was melt against him.

It would seem as if he was taking out his anger on you, but his kisses gradually ease up, and all it starts to translate to is love and of him never wanting to let you go. His hands tether at your waist and he continues to drown you with his kiss, tongue pushing against your lips, asking for access to your mouth. It’s soft yet dominating at the same time, like an artist’s brush that confidently strokes at the canvas, he continues to stroke his lips on yours.

The first signs of rainfall drip on the tree the two of you are under, it escapes past the leaves until he starts to feel it drip on his scalp. He pulls away as the rain starts to hammer harder down on the two of you. He doesn’t mind kissing you in the rain, but it was the thunder that worried him. He instinctively pulls his coat away and over your form, then retreating under a nearby shelter that he knew of.

His face still has desire painted on it, but he looks down at you, slightly drenched and looking cold and smiles a little with apology. “Sorry,” he says curtly and you only grin back at him.

Diluc

He likes the thought of being intimate with you. Kissing is just the most basic form of love that he discovered he enjoys. He enjoys it so much it’s hard for him to tell himself that one kiss will be enough.

It starts with your visit to his study. He’s there, poring over papers and the moment you walk in it’s as if his exhaustion billows away. He waits for you to approach him at his chair behind the desk and greets you by taking your hand and kissing the back of it. “Done with work?” He asks you and you nod your head with a small “Mmhmm,”

He stands then and greets you more intimately with another kiss. Gloved hand placed on your collarbone and clutching at your shoulder as he pulls you in. Your lips fuses into his perfectly, like you were made for each other and he thinks the same. It’s the exact reason why he can never just kiss you once, specially in the privacy of a room.

He kisses you again, but this time with more fervor, like he hadn’t kissed you in forever, like it was his first time seeing you in ages. His weight starts to push on you, and there’s nowhere to go but on his desk. Without ever taking his lips away he hoists you up over his desk, letting you sit comfortably while you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He’s standing in between your legs and his hands are pressed tightly on your waist. He pulls away to see the expression on your face, clearly wanting more.

He doesn’t ever complain about giving you more and the kisses heat up to the point that your tongues are dancing together, panting against the passion, your hands are tangled in his long, red hair, and you instinctively tug at the hair band keeping it together. Your body almost trembles against his at the intensity of his lips conquering yours--

“Master Diluc? The accountant is here to see you,” The knock on the door pulls the two of you apart, but he doesn’t move from his forehead to forehead position with you. It feels hotter in the room, and he’s sure that it’s not just him who feels it. He stalls for a while to think about what to say, wanting to just turn the accountant away and tell him to come back another time, but you laugh under your breath, feeling the conflict in him.

“Master Diluc,” you breathe out, clearly teasing him. “Don’t keep your guest waiting, I’ll come back later,” It’s you who pushes him away and jumps off the desk, turning to open the door and reveal Adelinde behind it. “He’ll be there in a second. Thank you Adelinde!”

Gorou

Shy. So more often than not you’re the one initiating. You’re surprised that he’s actually a good kisser, or did he just get gradually better at it? Maybe he read some books about it...

Gorou already knows what’s on your mind when you ask him “Can I see the armory?” The first time you asked that, he merely raised his eyebrows and said sure. That had turned out to be a full-blown kissing session that left him flustered the whole day.

It had actually been a while since you visited, and so when you ask “Is there anything new in the armory?” with a small grin on your face. Gorou can’t control nor hide the swish of his tail. He doesn’t admit out loud that he’s missed you far more than he can comprehend.

You’re rather shocked as well that when the door to the armory closes he’s the one who captures your lips in a kiss. He pulls away to say “I--I haven’t seen you in so long. I just--” but you silence him with another, pulling at his clothes to get him leaning on top of you, mouths meshed together.

Your hands wander up to his ears, you always do that, rubbing at it while kissing makes him let out a low growl into your mouth and give a slight jump, but he doesn’t hate it. In fact it encourages him to do more. To open his mouth and receive yours. The kissing sounds are starting to sound lewd and his hands are starting to crawl up your sides.

“General?” Gorou jerks away from you, there’s a sound of a weapon clinking, as if it was getting hung up on the wall. There are footsteps coming around to the two of you and you flatten your clothing out hastily. One of his soldiers was in the armory and emerges from a row of weapons. “Ah general! I thought I heard you!” and proceeds to ask about which weapon would suit him more, because he was having a hard time picking.

Gorou glances at you, face still flushed but there’s nothing but amusement in your eyes. He sighs inwardly and makes a future mental note to check if there’s anyone in the premises first before deciding to kiss you.

Itto

He doesn’t constantly think about making out with you but when it starts to happen he can’t get his mind out of the gutter anymore. Doesn’t have a normal amount of shame as well. So getting caught making out is like nothing to him.

His favourite place to go beetle hunting is Chinjuu forest. Apparently that’s where all the big and strong ones are. He’s looking at every nook and cranny. In the river, atop trees, under boulders, on the stone stairs, inside logs. You name it.

When he finally finds one, it’s like he hit the jackpot. “Heyyy!! Y/N, check this out!” he waves over and runs towards you to show you his new found treasure...only for him to trip on a big rock and start falling backwards, the beetle is startled and flies away from his hand.

Itto is somewhat of an impulsive klutz, and so when he realizes that he’s falling he clumsily grabs on to the nearest thing, as if it would help him. Unfortunately, that was you and you end up on the ground with him.

“Ow...Gee...Stupid rock,” he pushes himself up by his elbows and glares at the rock by his foot, then realizes that you’re completely pressed up against him and resting right below his chin. “Y/N! You okay?!”

He wraps one arm around your waist, with how burly Itto was, having you resting on top of him was nothing. He realizes how close the two of you are and a bulb instantly lights in his head. “...Wanna kiss?” He grins shamelessly and you smack his shoulder hard. “Ow!”

“Come on! Just one!” he urges and and somehow flips you over to the ground. Now he’s the one hoisting himself up above you. You consent and he giddily kisses you on the lips. Despite his size Itto is always gentle at first, and he never goes past your boundaries. Always asking if he could kiss you. He pulls away with a satisfied smile, but just looking at you under him like that...it stirs a bit of something in his gut.

“...Another one?” He asks. Eyes tacked on to your suddenly delicious looking lips. He leans in again and this time the kiss he gives has a slight nip to it, his teeth gently nibbling on your lower lip, like he’s trying to get an actual taste of you. He pulls away again, face starting to become pink. “...A-Another--” This time it’s you who pulls him down by his coat, not letting him finish his request and it turns into a full blow make-out session.

It’s a clumsy medley of kisses at first, just trying to taste more of each other and lips grappling for control. There’s a sudden, fiery urgency between your kisses, like you’re losing time, and your hands are starting to slide down his exposed midriff.

“Boss! Bossss!!” You push him away when you hear his gang members calling after him, but he didn’t seem to care and chases after your lips again. “Itto!” you hiss and punch his shoulder. “What?” he looks at you innocently. “Get off! Your friends are coming!”

“So what?” he blinks, actually looking like he doesn’t care. He just doesn’t find anything wrong about giving you affection. “Get off or I’ll never kiss you again!” You threaten and he pouts but relents. By the time his gang members arrive. The two of you are stood up, with you dusting your clothes off and Itto looking like a defeated bear.

Kaeya

You bet he initiates and he does so whenever he feels like it. However, other times, he likes to lure you into his trap by using his charms, so it looks as if you’re the one who started it but in fact he’s been sending you signals the whole time.

“Ah, so here you are,” Kaeya chuckles, kicking the door to the rooftop close as he saunters over to you. Up at the rooftop of the Favonius Headquarters, it was quiet and no one ever really went up there. You could see a small view of the town, as well as the windmills surrounding it.

You were leaning over the railings, and only turned around to give Kaeya a half-glare, crossing your arms over your chest. “Came up here to tease me more?” You said, earning another chuckle from Kaeya. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, love,”

He lifts your face up to meet his using his finger. His grin is handsome, and the moonlight illuminates his eye that much more. Your hands rest on his shoulders as he comes nearer and you mumble at him almost accusingly. “Liar. You couldn’t keep your hands off me during the meeting...”

Kaeya doesn’t say anything but does slither an arm around your middle. He was a menace. The Favonius meetings were long sometimes, and you guessed that he got bored. He kept nudging you with his knee, and at some point had even secretly placed his hand on your thigh, tracing patterns on it with his finger, pretending to listen to the meeting minutes.

Kaeya leans in to whisper into your ear, his breathy voice sends a shiver down your neck and spine. “Can’t help it, your squirming is fun to watch,” and that’s how he gets you to press your lips on his. Just with a little urging, a little teasing, a little subtle touch. It drives you crazy and it entertains him to no end.

“Someone’s impatient,” he whispers again when you pull back, “It’s your fault,” you whisper back. This time he’s the one who makes the move. His kisses are perfect. It touches more than just your lips, it reaches your soul, your heart and the very core of your being. You’re always left wanting more. He knows how to kiss in a way that has you chasing for more, clutching at him for more. He knows that when he sucks at your bottom lip you’ll mewl and bite his back. The heated exchange continues, up until the door to the rooftop slams open.

“Sir Kaeya--Oh...Uhm...I--” The knight who walks in realizes Keaya is in the middle of something. Kaeya doesn’t have plans to turn around, but he does so only to briefly address the knight. “I’ll be there in five minutes,” Kaeya doesn’t wait for the knight to leave, and proceeds to continue kissing you until your lips are sore.

Kazuha

Gentle but will catch you off guard. Always starts off with innocent kisses up until it escalates into a desire that he can’t ignore.

The bird’s nest of the ship. That small lookout on the highest point of the mast, where a crewmember would stay and warn the other crew members if there was an impending doom coming. Like a storm, or another big ship, or a small ship they should avoid. It’s an important part of the ship, but also a somewhat private little getaway.

The breeze is always nice up here, but when night falls it becomes a tad too chilly and you end up wrapped up in Kazuha’s arms and warmth. You stay like that for a moment, just enjoying the lull of the sea and the sound of the waves. After a while longer you tip your head up to look at him, finding that he’s gazing tenderly at you.

You smile, and he follows. A little piece of heaven was so easy for him to obtain with you in his life. You tip your head up to invite him for a kiss, and he effortlessly meets your lips romantically. It takes your breath away, the manner in which he silently claims your lips as his and only his. It’s not demanding nor forceful at all, yet something about it makes you surrender and your knees start feeling weak.

His arms tighten around you, he pulls away for a brief second, only for air and comes back in immediately. This time it feels like his lips scorches yours, the flame that ignites leaves you whimpering for more, clutching at his arms, senseless to everything else except his kiss.

The only reason it stops is because you’re suddenly jerked away from him. He startles as well, feeling his feet sway a little, but his hold on you is protective and reassuring. A strong wave had nearly tipped the two of you off balance, and Kazuha looks beyond the sea to see that a storm might be brewing.

He chuckles a little, aware that he got carried away for a moment there. “Let’s go back down, love. It’ll get dangerous up here in a few,”

Scaramouche

Rough and demands it when he wants it. For him it’s like an impulse, or maybe the result of holding back too much and suddenly exploding with want.

He was sour the whole day, and you had no idea why. Possibly one of his moods. He took it out on nearly all his subordinates, shouting about how everyone here was incompetent and useless.

When night fell and the men had fallen back to their makeshift tents or quarters, Scaramouche came back to his and your tent, done antagonizing everyone for the day. He doesn’t say much as he undresses and prepared for the night, slipping on a simple shirt and shorts. You were already on your shared cot, reading a book about something trivial.

He climbs in with a huff and you can’t help but smile at how childish his temperate was sometimes, but you’re startled when he climbs on top of you, your wrists are suddenly pinned above your head by his lone hand. “S-Scara--”

Wordlessly, his lips demandingly bears down on yours. You let out a slight sigh as you kiss, your eyes immediately closing at how possessive the kiss felt, but it’s exactly the way you like it. You part your mouth for him, and his tongue lashes in like strong waves pulling you under a sudden splash of desire.

The way he kisses you is beyond hungry, devouring your lips and all your senses to focus only on him. “Scara--!” was the only thing you could let out when he pulls back for a breath, a string of saliva connecting the two of you, your face incredibly flushed. That prompts him to do more, moving to yet again taste your lips.

“Sir? There’s an emergency out at the waterfalls. It seems that the resistance is closing in,”

Scaramouche pulls away and curses under his breath. He’s about to kill that soldier who’s standing outside the tent. He climbs away from the bed and starts getting dressed again, leaving you breathless on the bed. Still, you would think he would just leave, but for you, he comes back to where you rest and places a kiss on your forehead. “Wait for me, puppy. Won’t be long,”

Tartaglia

Mischievous and almost calculated. Beckons you to initiate it and leads you into it.

His meeting with the other Fatui agents just ended, and he’s left exhausted and melting into the sofa he was sitting on. His body is totally limp, just wanting to do nothing for a moment in the living room of his hotel suite. Sure, he loved the adrenaline of battle and the excitement it brought. But meetings were something else, it took a lot out of him.

“Childe?” You peer into the living room, having taken refuge in the bedroom that whole time while he took care of his business. He immediately perks up at your voice, his energy levels spiking at the thought of you. “Here, Y/N, we’re done,” he confirms and beckons you over with his hand.

You step out of the bedroom door and walk over to him on the couch, yelping when he easily pulls you atop him, forcing you to straddle him, your knees on the couch and your hands on his shoulders. “Childe!”

He only chuckles and leans back, liking the view of things, one of his hand lazily placed on your waist. “It’s been a long day honey,” he sighs out and takes his other hand to cradle your cheek. “I think I deserve a kiss,”

Indeed he does and you agree with no complaints. You straddle his lap fully when you lean in and hotly connect your lips. Your scent is hypnotic to him, the only thing in the world that could ever catch him off guard was you. He encases your waist in his arms, pulling you closer to him until you’re pressed against each other.

“Mm,” a hint of a moan escapes his lips and into yours. He doesn’t stop kissing you, the intensity increasing with each one. He starts to kiss you in a way that makes your toes curl and your insides burn, your brain melting into nothingness, not even noticing that your hands start to slide up his shirt.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

You pull away, only to be pulled back in. “Keep going,” he breathes out, ignoring the obvious knocking on the door.

“Sir--I’m sorry. We’ve forgotten to report an important part of the mission,”

Childe clicks his tongue, but he hoists you up in his arms and shouts back. “I’m off-duty, come back tomorrow,” before the two of you disappear into the bedroom.

Thoma

Natural. It just happens when it happens. There’s not much thinking involved and there’s no prior teasing.

He’d been busy for a while, setting up things and making sure everything was in place for the Irodori festival. You, being a worker at Yae Publishing house, was also busy during that time period. For the whole festival you didn’t see each other, nor did you have the time to pass by even for a short greeting.

On the final day of the festival, Thoma finds himself waiting for you to finish your shift at the Yae Publishing House stall. “Thoma!” You run up to him, delighted to see your lover after a long week, he meets you with a hug and laugh, spinning you around once before setting you down again and walking to the restaurant that the two of you agreed to eat at for dinner that day.

It was also the celebration of the end of all your hard work for the festival. For this special occasion, he had requested a private dining room for the two of you. The night started off as normal, the two of you talking about your respective events and duties.

“I missed you,” he suddenly interjects in the middle of your story. He just couldn’t help it, it’s been so long since he saw your smiling face. “Ah, sorry, you can continue your story,” he waves a hand, urging you to go on, but you’ve stopped and shifted a little closer to him. “...I missed you too, Thoma,”

And just like that your lips were inviting his. He drops his chopsticks and turns to face you, his hands on both sides of your face to bring you closer to him, to feel his lips melt and combine with yours. He feels your fingers clutch at his shirt. Thoma’s kisses makes you forget your own name. Makes your heart beat faster and faster until it feels like exploding. Every time your lips come apart and together again you’re spun into a dizzying world of fireworks and passion.

“Y/N...” he whispers before he dives in yet again, your hands now tugging at his hair, as if wanting to sink into him deeper.

“Your drinks are here!” The door slides open rather suddenly and the two of you jerk apart, faces an intense red. The server is oblivious and hums to herself while placing the glasses on your table. “Enjoy!” She says before retreating out and sliding the door shut again.

The two of you are tense, but when you meet eyes, you can’t help but let out a snicker, he follows and the two of you are just laughing it off seconds later.

Venti

It’s like a form of entertainment for him, like a hobby. He loves kissing you and he doesn’t hide that at all.

“Venti...are you drunk?” You ask as you sit next to him at the tavern. He’s rather rowdy today, but he raises an eyebrow at your query. “Me? I haven’t even had a drink yet Y/N! I’m just excited I have time to visit the tavern again!”

The two of you are off to a table on the side, it’s a little secluded, but in no ways was it private. The deeper the night got the more people came in, but you realized that Venti wasn’t drinking any booze at all. In fact his attention was all on you, just talking to each other and enjoying each other’s company.

You don’t quite understand Venti’s attraction towards you. It’s as if he appeared one day and decided to latch on to you. Was it really love? Or just fascination? Still, he was a handful, but he was able to take care of you and be considerate of your feelings, despite being energetic and carefree all the time.

“...and so we decided to leave Dragonspine,” you finished your story, drinking some of your mocktail and noting that Venti was nodding at you with sparkling eyes.

“It must’ve been cold up there, hm?” He simply says and it dawns on you only now that his arm is wrapped around your waist and the two of you are quite cozy in that position, your body tucked in his. “You’re so cute, Y/N. It’s almost unbearable, ehe~”

Then, his eyes light up almost instantly. “Ah, you haven’t given me a kiss today! You were so busy in the morning that you forgot!” He leans in, putting his face out for you but you feel your cheeks heat up and decline his offer. “Idiot, we’re in public!”

He’s silent for a moment, realizing that you’re shy, and for some reason that face of yours spurs him even more to try and kiss you. Assertively, he uses his hand to move your turned away face to meet his and he’s the one who leans in for a mind-bending kiss.

You gasp into it, eyes widening at his bravery. Although it was loud in the tavern all you could really hear was your heart beating in your chest. He doesn’t let up, you feel his tongue prodding your lips, asking to be let into your hot mouth and your eyes close automatically, losing yourself into the sudden tingling sensation running up your spine.

He kisses you like you’re the finest wine he’s ever tasted, he drinks you up like he hasn’t had water in days and you feel his mouth just pressing on yours over, and over, and over again--

BANG!

The two of you startle away from each other. One of the waiters has smacked a medium barrel of wine on your table. The type that was for sharing and had a spout connected to it. The waiter saw you kissing, but he didn’t bat an eyelid. That happened all the time in the tavern. Instead, he actually grinned and said. “Here’s that wine you ordered, this’ll warm you both up quick,” and left cackling.

Xiao

Always doesn’t expect how he likes kissing so much. He doesn’t usually initiate but when it happens he’s also surprised by the hunger he has for your lips. It’s almost like the demon inside him comes out and wants to devour you.

Xiao has his own room in Wangshu Inn, but he doesn’t use it as much as one would think. He rarely needed sleep and staying in human quarters just seemed odd to him. He never got used to it.

As an adepti, the outdoors was his calling. It’s where he spent most of his time, even with his brothers and sisters back when they were all together. In a way he was very in touch with nature and his surroundings.

Today he spent the usual night up on the Wangshu rooftop with you. Looking down at the lights and the people weaving in and out. You came to him that night with red lipstick on, and it’s not because you had intentionally put it on. It was because you just finished an opera performance at the inn, and though you weren’t the lead singer you worked as a background dancer, and sometimes that required makeup that stood out, specially in Chinese opera.

Xiao had seen your performances several times. He didn’t say much about it, but he did comment once that he thought the story was beautiful and that your moves matched the story. That was more than enough for you, coming from him.

That night, you were merely wanting to say a brief hello, just as you always did after a show. “I’ll be going now, Xiao,” you say after a moment but his hand reaches out for your wrist and holds you in place.

You turn back with a curious look on your face, wondering if he was alright. “Xiao?” He gently pulls you towards him, and stares at your face. Something in him aches to kiss you. To mess up your makeup.

He moves you over to the wooden railing of the rooftop, your back pressing against it and him trapping you in between. He continues to stare at your lips, and you finally get the message. “Xiao, do you want to...” you gulp, and he does as well. His eyes dart up towards yours, as if asking for permission.

The permission you give is your eyes closing, head tilting the slightest bit forward, letting yourself fall vulnerable in front of him. He lets out a slight sigh at the sight before pressing your mouths together. His hand finds its way to your scalp, moving you closer to him, tasting your moist lips.

He’s aware that he’s possibly smearing lipstick all over himself, but that just heightens his desire. He wants it all over him, only him and when he pulls back to see the mess that he made of you, eyes clouded over, red lipstick smudged to the side of your lips, mouth parted as if asking for more and panting, he lets out an almost guttural groan and plunges in for more.

It’s intense, like his lips had a mind of its own and he wants nothing more than for you to just hold on to him like this forever. And then, in a sudden split second, he disappears into black smoke.

“Here’s your dinner Xiao!” The chef of Wangshu inn, Smiley Yanxiao appears at the entrance of the rooftop, but when he looks around and doesn’t see Xiao there, he scratches his head and addresses you instead. You who was covering your lips to conceal how smeared your lipstick was. “Hey, Y/N, tell Xiao that I’m placing his dinner here, okay? Thanks!”

He proceeds to place the almond tofu dish on a table off to the side and turns around to go back to the kitchen. Your heart is still hammering in your ears and you’re not sure if what happened earlier had really transpired. But when you blink your eyes again and Xiao reappears in front of you, face covered in a rare blush and avoiding your gaze, you’re a hundred percent sure it had happened, and you can’t help but feel your heart skip another beat at that.

Zhongli

Patient. Knows how to bide his time. It’s not rushed or sloppy. It’s slow and sensual and he knows what he’s doing.

“Darling, I’ll be off soon,”

It’s how your mornings with him usually start. He wakes up to tend to his duties as a worker in Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, and you also have to attend to your duties as a simple hairdresser in Liyue Harbor. Appointments with you are usually done in your home, where you and Zhongli lived. Occasionally you do home visits and go to the client’s home instead of them coming to you.

“Mmhmm, I’ll see you later,” You rush over to him who is already at the door, tip toe for a quick kiss and attempt to unfurl away from his hold, only for him to hold on to you tight.

He doesn’t like rushed kisses, though the two of you are busier than usual this morning he’ll hold fast to his promise of giving loving kisses. Never rushed nor in a hurry. “Hold on a moment, dear,” he requests and holds your chin in his hand, slightly squeezing your cheeks and holding it up for him to dip down properly and sensually into a heart-melting kiss.

It gets you every time, and you don’t know how he does it. There’s always an air of confidence in his kiss, he knows what he’s doing and he knows that it gives you butterflies in your stomach. This morning, however, instead of you pulling away satisfied with just one, you ask for more by putting your hands lightly around his neck.

He gets the message and leans into your touch, pulling you by the waist, flattening your whole body against him and starting to deepen the kiss by the second. Glued to one another he claims your mouth sensually, still not in a rush. When your lips come together, it’s soft, but it’s searing hot, as if his lips is melting your skin and kissing every crevice of your being. “Zhongli...” you breathe out when you pull apart for a second, not knowing where your sudden desire comes from.

“Hm...” He merely lets out, amused at this development and continuing to brush his lips against yours. There’s a knock on the door, and that’s a clear sign that the two of you had kissed for too long. Zhongli chuckles, knowing that it must be your first appointment for the day. Just as quickly, he regains composure and kisses your forehead for a final goodbye, like nothing had happened at all.

You’re the one who’s still flustered, staring at his back and wondering how he could open the door and converse happily with the middle aged woman waiting outside your home. You almost pout, but you see him turn towards you and mouth the words “Let’s continue later,” before he bids you goodbye and leaves you with your first client.

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livelaughlovesubs · 2 months

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Ermermerm soooo… can u plz do a lil fic where like, reader is a hardworking person and is like working a 9 to 5 job or wtv and one day they get yelled at by their boss and since reader is pissed they come home and takes the frustration out on Kunikida by fucking him HARD and goes on multiple rounds ermmmm…. THIS IS SO BAD IM SORRY ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Ur fics r my girl dinner. Anywayz… luv u nini!! Thx 4 putting up with me ;3

- 🎀

No no no, it’s alright bae, I don’t mind. Your ideas are always so good too, I’ll work on the other ones soon, it might take a while but.. oh well

Dom!reader x sub!Kunikida

Reader is gender neutral

Warning: pegging (you can read it as strap or not, it’s not mentioned)

“Ugh, who does he think he is?!” You vented, seemingly annoyed. “Screaming at me like that, son of a bitch. Hey, kunikida, the fuck are you doing?” Your grip on his waist tightened, basically pinching him. He arched his back and yelped a little, “ah..! What are you- mhm, doing.” The male was riding you while you held him by the hips, giving him instructions and commands. “You are doing a horrible job, fuck it, I’ll do it.�� Without giving him any warnings, you changed positions and got up, caussing him to fall onto his back.

“Ah, y/n?! I- UgH-Hngnn!” Kunikida gasped, now in the mating press with your arms forcing his legs to be raised to his chest. “You see I didn’t have a great day.” He moaned as he felt you deeper inside him, all thanks to this new position. “And I really don’t have any patience now.” Right before you started moving, his reached out to you, his shaking hands gently grabbed your arms. “P-please.. it’s the third round, I can’t do anymore…!”

That was the truth, he’s been riding you for a while now. Though just because that needy whore’s been pleased, doesn’t mean you were satisfied with his performance. “I’ve expected more from you.” You admitted with a cold gaze. Kunikida flinched as he saw your expression, shyly avoiding eye contact. He did kind of expect it, but it still surprised him when you suddenly started moving. Since he was stretched already due to the previous rounds, you were able to move faster from the start. Snapping your hips against his while panting slightly, using your anger as energy and his body as stress relief. “Ah-ahHhAa!” The Blondie cried out, tears rolling down his pretty face and decorating those flushed cheeks. His glasses were placed away on the nightstand, at a save distance. There were times were they broke during your sessions.

His body trembled with each thrust, he bit his lip to suppress those deliciously embarrassing moans he’d make. It was of no use though, because the pleasure was too overwhelming, so much that he was losing his mind. “What’s the problem, kunikida? You are normally so cool headed after all~” you teased him, not stopping with your relentless pounding. Fuck, you just loved that humiliated face of his. The way he shook underneath you, eyes pleading for your mercy, it was absolutely stunning. Like a drug to which you got addicted, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

“Ah- uHhh..! Y/n, y-y/n, MHmmm!” The man whimpered through clenched teeth, you always had to embarrass him like this and he was never able to get used to it. What happened at your work this time? One day he was definitely going to kill that boss of yours. Since when you get furious over them, in the end, he’s always the one to suffer. “What are you thinking about, getting distracted like this?” Your question pulled him out of his day dream, startling him a little. He wasn’t even able to respond before you considered it unnecessary and moved even rougher. Taking away from the speed and instead focusing on reaching deep inside him.

Kunikida could swear he saw stars, the way his entire body tingled each time you touched him was rendering him to a mess. He was getting closer to the edge, his legs wrapped around your waist to keep you closer. You felt a shiver down your spine, he was too cute when like this. “Ah.. ughh, y/n..!” The male groaned again, he used all his strength to whisper a warning but the words didn’t want to come out, “I’m- mhHmm! C-close..” it was just too much for him to handle, he was already sensitive from the previous rounds. It’s not his fault you feel so good.

You didn’t slow down, there was no need for it. Watching him all twitchy and messed up like this was your favourite thing to do after all. He clenched around you as he came, leaking his cum all over his belly. It dripped down his shaft in an erotic way, all the way to his hole, soaking his thighs and the bed. “Uh..HhhMM.!! Ga-gahhhHh..” a chocked out moan slipped from him, lasting until he finished his load. Some tears rolled down the sides of his face, or maybe it was sweat? He looked at you with trembling eyes, a hint of need and undeniable ecstasy present. “Good job.” You praised him, before turning him around onto his belly, licking your lips as you did. “Let’s keep doing that until you forget my name~” Those desperate eyes turned into one of fear and curiosity soon, he just pressed his face against the pillow as he let you do whatever you wanted. What a good little stress relief~

(Tag: @nvllxiety)

#sub character #sub!character #dom reader #dom!reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #sub bungou stray dogs #sub bsd #sub kunikida #kunikida doppo #bsd kunikida #bungou stray dogs kunikida #kunikida x reader #kunikida smut #kunikida bsd #🎀 anon

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anadiasmount · 6 months

Text

of course it’s real - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: what happens when he suddenly shows up on your doorstep? could be a leap of reconciliation or something completely different?

wc: 3.5k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

➡️ part one: is this real?

psa 🗣️: this is part two to the long-awaited is this real fic! this a +18 post, so minors dni as it contains fingering, and unprotected sex 🔞. just a small bit of smut since someone requested in the fic! hope you enjoy 🤍 once again, contains mature content for 18+!

“Hi… Uh- sure come in,” you stammered, your heart beating out your chest quickly. It came as a shock to you that he was standing there, after weeks and months of not seeing him. Why was he here? Did he come to ask for something back? Jude felt the same way, pulse rate quicker than before he knocked on your brown door, before seeing you dressed up fancy. He was followed by Duke, who quickly came into Jude’s embrace, kissing Jude’s cheek, and wagging his tail.

“You know you can’t be here right?” you ask, crossing your arms against your chest. “Who says that?” Jude retorts, standing back up and fiddling with his pants. “Well, you just finished with your club, now going into the International break. Shouldn’t you be at camp instead of here?” you question, walking to retrieve your bag and shoes.

“Going somewhere?” Jude said, a protective maybe jealous tone undermining the tone from before. He was curious, maybe small taken at back because of how stunning you looked. It reminded him when the two of you were together and went out on date nights. Holding hands, sharing kisses, hugs, and nights of passionate sex. The memory of him gifting you a necklace with his initial to you popping into his head.

All he could come up with now is either you going on a date or attending an important event. “Yeah, I was invited to an art show so I'm headed there with friends for the evening,” you offer a small smile, to which Jude cheered on the inside. So you couldn't be dating again, or have moved on right? “My friend Giovan is waiting Jude… I don’t want it to seem like I'm kicking you out but I have somewhere to be.”

Giovan? Who the fuck was that? Jude thought. “I wanted to talk to you about us.”

“What do you mean? We ended a while ago…” you reply, not failing to notice Jude wincing at your words. A small frown on his face, brows drawn in and him biting the inside of his cheek. “Please… I just want you to hear me out. We can go on from there… I really miss you ba- Y/n…”

You felt your heart tighten and beat faster. A pang of hurt and betrayal took over you, and all you wanted was to now stay in as old memories resurfaced of your healing stage. Refusing to go out, the routine you built, constantly blaming yourself for not being enough, you weren't trusting Jude’s words anymore.

“Uh-” you shook your head and laughed trying to hold back tears. If you would have heard this the day you broke up or even a couple of days after, you would have gladly accepted him back. Maybe you could've been in Spain with him, going on walks with Duke, taking care of his injuries, being the girlfriend he wanted. But this was reality, and as much as it hurt, you wanted to protect yourself from another heartbreak.

“I don’t know Jude. I don’t know what you want me to say,” you said nervously, shifting your weight from one foot to another. Tell me that you miss me too, tell me that you still love me the way I love you, tell me there's still a chance for us, tell me you’re still mine, was what Jude wanted to say, but once again he was left without words.

“I have to go-”

“What if I come with you? I promise I won't pull anything. But please, we can talk there, hang out, like old times,” he proposed the idea. “What, like pretending to be the couple we were? What if I don’t want to hear what you have to say? What if you are lying again?” you say finally, having built up the courage and patience to spit out how you felt. While it felt relieving, you didn’t want to hurt the man you still love.

“I think you're trying to avoid confrontation Y/n. I know you. Plus, you still wouldn’t be wearing my necklace if it didn't mean anything,” he walked over, his index finger connecting with the charm, watching how he had an effect on you. Your breathing rapidly increased, watching how your chest pumped in and out trying to control it. Fuck, was all you thought, he caught you.

You look up and see how his brown iris gaze into you, a dingle of hope plastered on them. His lashes reached his top eyelid, and then touched his cheek as he blinked. Unbeknownst to the two of you, but your bodies were closely together now, one move from the two of you, and you would be pressed up. You cleared your throat and backed away, playing with the charm as you spoke, “This is such a bad idea…”

“But why does it feel so right? So real,” Jude said, shrugging his shoulders. This could end badly, maybe you running out of the showcase in tears or cause a scene and embarrass yourself in front of your coworkers. But maybe it could be the opposite, who knows, only faith undermining the situation. “Please. I wouldn't be here if it didn't mean anything,” he begged again, to which you sighed and finally accepted.

“I have a suit in my luggage, give me a couple of minutes to change and fix my hair and we can head out okay?” Jude said, but you were afraid to speak, only muttering a quick ‘okay’. Jude was like a drug, an addictive one, and as much as you wanted to let go, it was becoming difficult. It didn't seem real. It couldn't be real, right? But when you saw him come out now dressed, you knew there was no way to deny your true feelings.

The Uber driver played slow and relaxed music, you leaned against the car window, your hand propped up to hold your head as you watched out. Jude being freakishly tall struggled with his legs, finally just spreading them apart and watching as you looked out. He wanted to reach over and pull you into him, kiss your head down to your neck, whisper words of encouragement, and hold you like he once did. But he couldn’t not knowing if you were willing to let him do so.

When the two of you walk into the exhibit, a photographer takes a couple of photos, asking you to pose and embrace each other. As awkward as it may have been, Jude didn't let the opportunity of his hand coming around your waist and pulling you into a protective matter go to waste. His touch ignited a fire in you, a familiar sense of butterflies invading your tummy as his thumb drew circles over the material.

You couldn't help but wrap your hand around his bicep, feeling the prominent muscles he built over the months as you walked inside the venue. He was huge compared to a while back. You smiled and guided him to your friends, to which you embraced and talked to. Giovan hugged you tight, too close for Jude’s liking, which made him clench his fist and jaw at the sight. But oh boy was he wrong.

“And who is this handsome lad? Don’t tell me this is your man or I'll be upset Y/n,” Giovan said in a flirtatious tone, fluttering his eyelashes and extending his hand, to which Jude shook. A tint of blush and redness spread across his cheeks, making you smirk and giggle. “Not my man, just an old friend who has come down to visit me,” you intervene, standing aside to where Jude silently begged with his eyes.

“Alright now Gio, settle down, don't scare him off now,” you joke, to which your friend just rolls his eyes and smiles. “Of course not! I'll see the two of you around, maybe you can buy me a drink,” he hinted to Jude who just nodded shyly. You look away laughing to which Jude embarrassed chuckles, “It's not funny.”

But the playful mood turned awkward again as you roamed the exhibit of paintings, photography and sculptures. You came across a painting of white swans who looked over at the sunset, cuddled into their embraces, far away and disclosed to where the exhibit was held. It was minimal lighting and no other people.

It reminded you of when Jude broke things off, leaving for Spain, and then again when he caught you moving out. You close your eyes and shake away the memory, but Jude sees. “Are you okay?”

“Why are you here Jude?” you ask again, you’re tired of the constant confused signals and feelings for him. For once you want him to be straight on how he feels about you, instead of continuing this cycle of unsureness.

“I’m here for you… to fix us…” Jude says you let out a laugh of disbelief. You find the strength to look him in the eyes as he talks. “There is no us anymore Jude, you broke that off.”

“That’s why I'm here. I want to fix us and earn you back. If it's not you then it's no one. I'm really hoping you can forgive me, for what I did and the pain I cost you. I never meant for all this to happen, I thought I knew what I wanted but I was so so wrong Y/n. You shaped me into who I am today, and I'll forever be thankful for that. You made me into the person I am and without you, I'm so lost,” Jude pleads, his eyes glossy as he reaches for your hands.

“I was stupid to let you go, to lose all the trust you built for me. I’ll admit it, I was only thinking of myself instead of you when I broke it off, but I was scared of losing you. It's true I didn't know what I wanted but I do now. You being so distant from me right now is breaking my heart because I feel like I lost you. Did I lose you, baby?” he continued, your eyes brimming with tears at his soft tone when asking his question.

What if it was too late? What if you couldn't love him or be enough like you expected? What if there was no point in trying again if it meant the same outcome? Were you seriously going to risk everything for a guy who proved in the past they didn't think of anyone but themselves?

Your silence was killing Jude. Maybe he did hurt you, and he could never recover from that if that was the case. This whole time being apart, from the day at the park to you moving your stuff out, to now, the distance was becoming a long and heavy weight on his shoulders. To not know how you felt, to not hear your voice, to hold you close afraid of letting go always popped into his head. Spending his nights unable to sleep, or even go out.

“You really hurt me… I never expected you to suddenly give up on us, especially when we were doing so good? We were happy, at least I was. I was not only watching you succeed, but I was watching my favourite person in the world, stay with me at my side, promising me that nothing would come between us. If you had those feelings why didn’t you ever say anything? Why couldn't you just talk to me, like I always said?” you finally break your silence, a tear dropping from your cheek.

“It's hurting me that you're here. It hurt me when the only person in the world I ever trusted suddenly wanted to let go. It hurt me back when I moved out, knowing it was probably the last time I would see you. It hurts to be reminded of you, and remember the good times we had because I knew they would never come back. But most of all, it hurts me to see you sad and upset,” you sob, turning away from his teary eyes not being able to take the pain.

You felt his arms hug you, his embrace warm and comforting, and as you found yourself leaning into it, you could hear his rapid heartbeat like yours. Feel the pain slowly disappear from your veins and finally gain control. The nights of constant terrors and crying, on a stream swimming away when he breathed into you. You felt at home. The butterflies and intimate contact now swarming your chest and tummy once again.

“If I knew how to take your pain away, I would do it. To see you hurting because of me, is hard. But I want you to know I’ve matured, that I'm willing to do anything it takes to have you back and call you mine. It's not because it feels like it's something I have to do, or live up to, it's because I truly am nothing without you,” he held your cheek in his larger palm, his other arm securely on your waist wrapped around.

“I'm not myself, my friends and family have noticed. If your presence isn't next to mine, it's like I'm running on my head overthinking, I'm just lost.”

“Jude-”

“I love you. I've never stopped, and I don't think I ever will…” and there he said, the three words he once confessed to you before, repeated again. The three words that mean so much more than his confession, the words you've been longing to hear but are so afraid of because it will forever mean more than a simple “I want you back’ or “I miss you.” You gasped, taking a gulp of nothing because this was real.

“Is this real?” you asked, pointing at the two of you, watching as Jude’s face softened even more. A small frown on his lips and brows relaxed, the wrinkle on his eyes as he blinked hard appearing. “Yes.”

“I'm saying is everything you're telling me now real? No bullshit. No more lies. No unsureness. Is this real, Jude?” A feeling of hope filled his chest, replacing the torture he felt before. “This is more than real. You’re the realest thing that I've ever experienced, and I want it to be like that, forever.”

“Forever?” you ask again, your brow raising as confirmation to which he let out a small laugh, “Yes. Forever. If we do this again, you're not leaving my side, and I'm not leaving yours. Forever.”

“Then what the hell are we waiting for? Kiss me Jude.”

He gave you one more look to confirm things but you quickly got on your tippy toes and smashed your lips against his. Jude pushed you up against the wall, hands roaming down to your hips where he gripped them tightly. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip tasting the familiar cherry taste he loved so deeply. Your hands moved all around his chest, finally gripping the back of his neck, drawing a small moan when he bit your lip.

He kissed you again, lips never separating from you as he picked you up and once again caged on the wall. Your legs come around his torso, your core throbbing and rubbing against his upper abs. “Jude we can’t… not here. They will hear us…” you whimper when he kisses the inner corners of your mouth, and then down to your jaw. “Then you’ll have to be quiet. You can do that, be a good girl for me and be quiet.”

Your chin slightly trembled as he continued to kiss all the way down to your collarbone, inhaling your scent. Marking you as his, and leaving a purple mark on the hot skin. All you could do was move your hips around and try to feel the friction to get rid of the sensitivity you felt, but it was hard when Jude kept pulling back. “Is that what you want? For me to touch you?” he groaned, voice huskier and deep as he pulled you into a messy kiss.

There was no way you could go back and let people see you like this. But you couldn't care, all you could care about was the way Jude set you down and dragged his fingertips from your calves to your inner thighs.His nails tickling and drawing shaped as he kissed and marked your boob once more.

His trail felt hot, he was teasing you, your legs squirmed around to find his touch. And when you finally grew enough of his games, you grabbed his wrist, and placed it exactly where you wanted him. “Here Jude. I want you to touch me here, please,” you whispered in his ear, biting the skin and pressing a small kiss. Jude ran his hand on top of your clothed core, noticing the wet material behind it.

“Once I make you cum, you're all mine. Do you understand?”

“I’ve always been yours,” and with that he dragged his fingers against your wet folds, rubbing a circle on your clit, making you let out a gasp. “That’s right baby. You've always been mine pretty girl,” he smiled against your lips, kissing your top lip. His fingers teased your entrance, groaning at how wet you were, causing you to clench your legs around his hand and look away. “Open your legs baby… Let me touch you just how you like.”

He kissed your cheek, and used his free hand to bring your face back to his gently. “Focus on me baby,” he pecked your jaw, “Focus on my touch,” Jude placed another kiss on your cheek, “Focus on my fingers,” he kissed your shoulder as his fingers finally drew inside of you, “Focus on my lips,” without hesitation you kissed him to hide the loud moan that would've left your mouth.

His fingers were completely coated with your arousal, easily sinking them deeper as he drew them in and out. Your body shuddered, back arching against the wall as his fingers drew and now your clit were all being touched. You felt starved, completely vulnerable at his sake.

“It feels s-s-so good, Jude,” you whined, your head thrown back as you kept a tight grip on his white blouse. “I know, but I can feel it, you’re almost there for me. So tight, always tight,” he moaned, his cock becoming harder than before. He heard your pants, small whines as you kept grinding on his hand, the cold tingle he felt down his spine as you shivered against him.

Jude picked up the pace, sighing with pleasure when you felt his bulge, and almost shamingly came. “S-s-shit baby.”

He nibbled on your neck to quiet down the noises the two of you were making, leaving wet kisses all over your tainted skin, feeling your lips quivering in pleasure as he finally made you reach your high. You cried out, and sucked in a sharp breath when he hit that certain spot, the one he always found, either with his fingers or cock.

“All mine.”

Jude quickly untucked his belt, and took his hard cock out the tightness off his boxers, grunting at the cold air in the room. “Can you still be quiet for me? One more, just one more for me…” he kissed you and quickly picked you up again, holding you strongly so you wouldn't fall, but he couldn't help himself but pin you hands above your head.

“If it becomes too much tell me,” Jude said, dragging the tip along your wet fold before finally sinking into you. Your back was completely pinned against the wall, sliding up and down as he began to thrust into you slowly but rough. He moved mindlessly, drawing out sounds from the two of you as he thrusted into you deeper. Your name fell out his lips, causing you to squeeze your legs around him, also your wet folds around his cock at the same time.

You felt like heaven, and Jude was sure he would be cumming quickly. The two of you were close, so close that in a few more thrust the two of you would be moaning in relief. He let go of your pinned wrists, his two hands now on your hips as he slowly drew in and out, harder and deeper. “God, you feel so good. Doing so good for me… God I love you,” he kissed you, your hand resting on the back of his head returning the kiss.

He continued to breathlessly move inside you, his forehead on your shoulder to reduce the sounds of his moans and groans. The art frames on the wall banging due the pace of his thrust, but he couldn't care. But when you continued to clench around him, Jude continuing the pace he was doing, your bodies trembled in pleasure, having Jude prep his hand in the wall so the two of you wouldnt fall. You could feel it, the way you pulsed around his cock, the ropes of cum he continued to spurt into you.

“I love you,” he kissed his initial and then lips, now that were slightly swollen after making out for a while. You brushed the hairs on his temple that were messy back into place, smiling like an idiot as he remained still inside you.

“I love you too Jude.”

➡️tags: @xjval 🤍

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fic #judebellingham #jude bellingham angst #football smut #football one shot #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader #football x y/n

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oomiya · 1 month

Text

HIS HEART BEATS FOR. gojo satoru x reader

summary: when a series of events–and an unfortunate miscommunication courtesy of nobara–sends you spiraling down an unknown path with your oldest friend, how else are you supposed to handle it with panic? then again, maybe if you knew, and if satoru knew, that you were running out of time, you would've handled everything a little bit differently. too bad hindsight is 20/20.

warnings: heavy angst, major character death, spoilers, mentions of blood/slight violence, smut (minors do not interact), unprotected sex, car sex, cursing, fem reader (she/her pronouns), possible slight canon inaccuracies, miscommunications, this does not have a happy ending #sorry

word count: 9.1k

a/n: my first fic back on tumblr ! this is kinda not great, goes from 0 to 100 real quick cause i have no patience, and is a little bit all over the place but oh well. all the love <3

It left a bitter taste on your tongue.

The look on his face–strained, tight around his eyes with a loose grin that looked too forced to really be his–caused a flighty, anxious feeling to crawl in your chest. It filled you unforgivingly, carving out any extra space and constricting your heart until you swore it wouldn’t be able to beat anymore.

Your response–or, you suppose, your lack of one–caused the man in front of you to scoff derisively. His fingers tightened on the back of the couch, and if you hadn’t been fighting the thoughts swarming in your head and the multitude of uncomfortable feelings from eviscerating your bleeding heart, maybe you would have seen how he squeezed until his knuckles turned white.

“If you can’t figure it out by now, then–geez, I don’t know–then I guess I don’t have anything else to say.”

You hated yourself for not having anything to say. Or, you did have things to say–fuck, you wanted to simultaneously smack a palm upside his head like you did when you were teenagers and pull the back of his neck until your lips met in a frantic, terrifying kiss–but all the words that could have led you there turned to ash in your mouth.

“I–I don’t–” You hated yourself for stuttering, but the ash suddenly turned to a thick, heady cement glued to your tongue. So, you shook your head, took a deep breath. Anything to shake the choking feeling that suffocated you.

But you took too long. Your silence was all he needed–all he needed to misunderstand. A look of shocked hurt crossed his face–that easy but not-so-truthful grin faltering–and all you could do was hang your head and squeeze your eyes shut as the tears prickled like tiny thorns in the corners of your lashes and the cement coagulated so much that you swore you could taste it.

This was for the best, this was for the best, this was for the best–

Gojo Satoru turned away from you, and if you knew you didn’t have more time, you might’ve stopped him. If you knew he was going to leave, and you were going to die, maybe you would’ve been able to speak.

It’s for the best, for the best, this was for the best.

He stopped in your doorway, lingered in it uncomfortably with a hand held restlessly against the wall. He turned his head slightly to speak to you but barely looked at your eyes.

“‘M not gonna say sorry,” he stated, voice quieter than usual. Like all the humor had been sucked out of his life.

You swallowed thickly, no longer fighting the tears as they fell in fat streaks down your cheeks, and refused to look at him. You think that if you did, you might not have the strength to hold your ground.

After all, you weren’t as strong as him.

Without another word, you watched from the corner of your eye as Satoru faltered–pausing with his lips parted as if he had more he wanted to say–but then he firmly closed his mouth, his hand left your doorframe, and he left your apartment.

He never came back, and you would never see Gojo Satoru again.

But a few weeks previously, you were feeling a bit less tragic.

Satoru was, too, apparently, as he grinned at you from your position on the ground. All you could do was glare in return, irrationally peeved at the way his height towered over you as he stood; you felt a strong urge to punch his shadow.

“You callin’ it?” your insufferable ass of a friend asks, and you finally manage to gather yourself and your dignity off the grass.

“Maybe,” you huff, rubbing your palms roughly against your pants to rid them of dirt and grass. The rain from the previous evening left the ground damp; you consider yourself lucky that all the mud puddles had already dried–you’re sure Satoru wouldn’t have hesitated if there was a brackish puddle near your vicinity.

“Mmm–” he clicked his tongue, “–Need a better answer than that, sweetheart.”

You let out a scoff of laughter at the not-so-endearing term. “You know I hate when you call me that,” you reminded him. Leaning down, you brushed your hands down your legs to rid the fabric of any creases formed from the intense training session.

You’d never give Satoru the satisfaction of letting him know that he beat your ass–and probably would tomorrow, too.

“Why d’ya think I keep calling you that?” the aforementioned object of your ire grinned, smug.

Satisfied with your work–and almost entirely convinced that you were once again rendered presentable–you stood again, hands on your hips as you appraised the tall man. “That’s rude.”

Satoru replied without missing a beat. “Nah, that’s just me. But hey–we still on for food tonight?”

“Always. And unfortunately for me, I think I’m stuck with you,” you sigh, not bothering to look back at him as you turn away, starting the trek back to the main campus building. While Satoru didn’t practice with the full force of his limitless, he still insisted on training you far away from his younger students.

If you thought too long about that, it causes a painful prick to embed itself in your heart.

“Damn right, you are,” Satoru states, hands shoved in his black pants pockets. He fishes around for a second–you narrow your gaze at him, distrustful–before he pulls out a wrapped cherry-flavored sucker. Ah, the taste of artificial corn syrup and starch.

“Begrudgingly, mind you,” you state.

“If you say so.” Satoru pops the sucker into his mouth and falls in step with you, matching your pace as he has for years.

Your gaze drifts to his feet, and that painful splinter shoves itself further inside.

You swallow thickly–as if that could help tamp down the surge of affection you feel for him. “I do,” you shrug; then, to take your mind off that uncomfortable feeling that’s making itself much more comfortable in your chest, you ask, “So, how are the kiddos?”

“Nothin’ but troublemakers,” he says, voice now a bit muffled around the sweet treat, and the laugh he lets out betrays any true meaning behind his words. “Think they’re giving me a few white hairs. Look–” Satoru points to his ruffled hair– pushed up by that black blindfold you occasionally want to pull down–with a lopsided grin on his face.

“Oh, he makes jokes. How cute,” you tease, voice lilting in amusement. “But hey–they’re your troublemakers.”

“Ha–that’s what I tell people about you,” Satoru replies.

“Funny,” you respond flatly. “But seriously, how are they?”

“They’re good, I think,” he replies thoughtfully, head tilted towards the sky as if admiring the still-gray clouds. You find yourself thinking that you wouldn’t be all that surprised if he could see through that blindfold.

You walk in still silence for a moment, but the pensive look causing a downturn of Satoru’s mouth, coupled with the hints from his previous statement, fills you with apprehension. You feel yourself tense when he sighs, head falling from the sky to look at you.

At least, that’s what you assume. But even through the eye-covering, you swear you can feel his piercing gaze unwaveringly on you.

“You know,” he draws out the word, and you bite your lip anxiously at his tone, “they could be your kiddos, too.”

You try not to pay too much attention to the current subject, instead trying to let it simply roll off your shoulders. “Oh, I know. You never let me forget it.”

But Satoru is used to this. “‘Cause you never give me an answer I like,” he retorts.

You can’t hold back the groan from falling from your mouth. “Satoru,” you grit out. “Are we really having this argument again?”

The man beside you shrugs, kicking a stray rock in your direction. Despite the vague sense of annoyance you now feel, you stop the rock with the side of your foot easily before kicking it back to Satoru. Maybe using a bit more force than necessary.

This topic has often been one of contention between you and Satoru. Unbeknownst to you, the man has always believed that the school could become even more invaluable if you were a teacher among its ranks. He’s been trying to recruit you for years–ever since he became a teacher and you moved on to pursue your passions. You don’t know where your hesitance to teach comes from–maybe it’s not even hesitance to teach, but instead, the love you have for the work you’re doing in your current field. Whatever it is, your answer to Satoru has never changed.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t feel a bit of guilt every time he asks.

“Doesn’t have to be an argument. Could be an agreement, instead,” Satoru attempts to convince you, and just when you start to feel a trace of remorse for how quickly you turned him down—again–he murmurs under his breath, “if only someone wasn’t so hard-headed.”

Indignation flattens that remorse.

“Me?” you point to yourself, brows raised in disbelief. “I’m the stubborn one? Are you really the one to be dishing it, Gojo?”

At the sudden use of his last name, Satoru visibly shrinks back. After years of friendship, your use of any name that isn’t his first habitually strikes fear in him–the feeling not unlike receiving a scolding when he was a child.

“You know that’s not how I meant it,” he attempts to explain his poor judgment.

“Satoru, you know I love my job too much. Plus, I just don’t think I’m cut out to teach like you are. Or like how you think I am.” But you relent, wordlessly accepting his hidden apology.

Not that you were ever really upset about that, anyways.

Satoru easily semi-changed the subject. He never really was one to back down. “Ah, I knew it! You think I’m a great teacher. Now, if you could just relay that opinion to Megumi somehow–”

“I think we’ve already established that you’re a funny guy, and we can both agree that I’m great, right? But I’m no miracle worker. Sorry ‘Toru,”

The slight tension from before eases away just like that, faster than it came, and an immense feeling of gratitude for your friend sits on your tongue. You look up at Satoru, an awkward ‘thanks’ hanging in the air between you.

As if sensing how you’re torn–firm in your resolution to not give in to him, yet feeling bad all the same–Satoru softens, nudging your arm with his. No words are needed.

“I’d feel hurt if I wasn’t still annoyed about the whole teaching thing. But, in all realness, you know the kids love you–”

“Well, that’s a given. Everyone loves me,” you remind him flatly.

“Yes, especially me. Which is why I would only tell you this–I need your help,” his sudden seriousness, something that is far-and-few-between with him, immediately makes you curious.

“You’ve got my attention,” you tell him seriously, knocking your elbow against his. He quickly returns the gesture, making something twist in your heart.

He pauses as if taking a steadying breath. “I think you’d do great stuff here. And I could use the extra help. I wanna do right by these kids, even though I don’t make it obvious sometimes,” Satoru implores, and you can hear the unmistakable earnestness in his tone. It’s only apparent to those who truly know him and those for whom he allows most of his walls down. Gojo Satoru is a mysterious person, sometimes seeming inscrutable to outsiders.

You pride yourself as one of the few people who truly knows him.

“Satoru, you literally let the new first years take care of an unregistered special grade a few months ago,” you joke, recalling how Nobara and Yuuji returned from that abandoned warehouse a little worse for wear. But Nobara and Yuuji took everything in stride and were bickering as if they’d been friends for years. You knew Satoru had been proud.

The man in question merely waves his hand, as if ridding the air of the subject. “You know that practical shit is how they learn–it’s how we learned,” he justifies, and a small part of you can’t help but to agree with him. “But I will admit that you just made my point. With everything going on lately…I don’t know. I have a bad feeling. I could use the extra hands.”

You hesitate. You can’t help it–you’ve always had a weak spot regarding Gojo Satoru. “Have you even asked Yaga about this? I don’t know, Satoru…” you trail off, unable to find the right words.

“Let me handle Yaga,” Satoru reassures you. “Just promise me you’ll think about it?”

You pause, thinking about it seriously for a moment. In that time, you can see how Satoru grows impatient, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet beside you. All you can do is groan.

“Fine. I’ll think about it,” you raise a finger, as if trying to halt Satoru’s excitement from bursting. “But just think about it. I’m not promising anything.”

His grin becomes all-encompassing and almost all-consuming. You can’t help but be drawn to it, just like your heart can’t help but skip a beat at the joy that exudes from the tall man from a mere sentence.

“Ah, I’m not worried. I’m sure I’ll be able to convince you,” Satoru states, now standing tall with his shoulders back. He’s clearly pleased with himself, and you can’t help but laugh a bit.

“Satoru, did you hear what I just said?” you ask, but you can’t help the amusement decorating your tone.

“I heard. I’m just choosing to be optimistic.”

“‘Optimistic’. Is that what the kids call delusional these days?” you ask, a finger poised on your chin in thought.

You see Satoru’s cogs turning as he tries to quickly think of a response, but just as he opens his mouth to quip back, the two of you are pleasantly interrupted.

“Who are we calling delusional?” Megumi asks as the group of first years pops up from behind you. You turn around to greet them with a genuine smile, and Nobara gleefully exclaims your name.

The younger girl happily pulls you in for a hug, and you immediately return it.

“Your teacher over there,” you explain to them, moving your head to look around Nobara at the other two in her group. You nod to Satoru, who immediately rolls his eyes.

“Well, we already do that,” Megumi states listlessly. This causes your friend to jump in to defend himself, and Yuuji quickly joins him.

You turn your attention to Nobara, who’s pulling away and ushering you away from the boys.

“They’re too loud. Like, all the time. Or–Yuuji is,” she explains, sighing frustratedly. “I wish I had been in your class. Or, that there were at least a few other girls with me. I can’t handle those two all on my own sometimes.”

You can’t help the warmth you feel at her words, nostalgia ricocheting you back to your school days. The fond memories of your classmates are ones you cherish–spending warm spring days hiding from the sun under a large tree, Shoko and Utahime occasionally bickering affectionately before Shoko tapped on the other girl’s head with her knuckles, lounging as ‘Toru and Suguru got into some type of trouble–

And the thought of your other classmate–the lost one, the boy with long black hair he often kept tied up except on the days that he didn’t–is what grounds you back in the present.

While your smile is still genuine, the remembrance of him causes it to feel a bit more forced.

“Well, it wasn’t always as great as you’re imagining,” you explain to Nobara softly, moving your hand to gently ruffle her hair. “Plus–you have Maki. Doesn’t matter all that much that she’s a grade above you.”

She gently swats your hand away, but you’re relieved to see her still smiling. You remember how difficult it was to sometimes corral Satoru and Suguru.

As if a brilliant thought just entered her mind, Nobara’s eyes went wide with mirth. The look wasn’t unlike that of Yuuji’s–or even Satoru’s–mischievousness.

Brows furrowed, you hastily tried to intercept her thoughts, glancing up briefly to see how Yuuji is keeping Megumi and Satoru occupied with some kind of story.

“What’s that look for?” you ask as you look back at Nobara, only a little bit wary.

She grasps your hands conspiratorially, barely containing her giddiness. “So…how’s the guy?”

Nobara wiggles her brows–as if begging you to let her in on a secret–and the realization comes flooding in.

“Practically nonexistent,” you tell her, but the younger girl doesn’t let you off the hook that easily.

Her brows furrow like she’s frustrated, or maybe about to scold you, and her hold on your hands turns firm. “What do you mean? Oh, don’t tell me–” she starts, eyes widening almost comically in realization. “Did the date go bad?”

At the word ‘date,’ you practically watch as Satoru’s head jerks to face the two of you. However, before he can ask, someone else beats him to it.

“Date?” Yuuji asks, his attention swiveling to you, too. “You had a date?”

Megumi intercepts by knocking Yuuji on his head. “That’s none of your business, Itadori.”

“What?” Yuuji looks at Megumi, his features akin to appallment. “Nobara’s the one who brought it up,” he grumbles.

“That’s because I’m closer to her than you two dimwits are,” Nobara states, pointing to the two of you.

The following ensuing argument pulls Nobara’s attention away from you; but you’re not fooled. You know you can only escape her and her relentless questions for so long.

“I didn’t know you had a date.”

Sometime during the few seconds you were mindlessly distracted, Satoru apparently sidled up next to you. He’s warm despite the overcast day, and you can feel it as he accidentally brushes his arm against yours.

Your wishful thinking has you hoping that, maybe, it wasn’t an accident.

And you wouldn’t know until later, but you were right.

Brushing off the unbidden thoughts, you cross your arms and watch as the young students continue to bicker. “Are you asking a question?” you ask, refusing to look at Satoru.

He doesn’t hold the same notion. You can tell he’s looking at you–can practically feel his gaze on your face. You do your best to ignore it.

“Why didn’t I know you had a date?” he asks instead, and if you were paying more attention, you might’ve caught the slightly irritated twinge in his voice.

You make a noncommittal sound. “You didn’t ask.”

“Don’t act like that,” he says.

“Like what?”

“Like how you’re acting.”

“Satoru,” you groan, feeling your resolve chip away with his needling. “‘Cause there was nothing to tell! It was a guy from work, and we had a date, and that was the end of it–”

“But what happened?” Nobara says your name, suddenly cutting it. “You were really excited about it. Remember–you were talking to Shoko about it that one morning?”

You remember, all right. You’d been hopeful and filled with a little bit of anticipation for the date–a cute guy who’d been flirting with you for a few months at work. He was sweet, and boyish, with glasses and light curly hair that was sometimes a bit messy. You can’t deny that you didn’t like the attention at least a little bit, so when he asked you to dinner one day, leaning across your desk with a sheepish, kind of shy, grin, you couldn’t help but accept.

The next day, after trying and failing to find Satoru, you ran into Shoko in the hallways of the school. Being one of your oldest friends–outside of ‘Toru–and after being unable to find the man, you spilled all the details to her.

Shoko listened dutifully, one hand on her hip as she listened to your jumbled nerves that kept spilling out. Then, the one grievance.

But what about Satoru?

This caused Shoko to raise a brow, not condescendingly. “What about him?” she asked.

You were thoroughly stopped in your tracks. She had a point–what about him? Where did that even come from? Of course, you had some idea–the steadily growing feelings of something had been ever-present and ever-annoying, but in the previous few months, they’d gotten worse. They’d been taking root, pushing aside any sort of logic or reason that told you that falling for your closest friend was a bad idea–the worst, actually.

But you did your best to ignore them, and you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t falling.

“Sorry–nothing,” you shook your head–like you were shaking the thoughts off.

Shoko looked at you disbelievingly. “You sure about that?” she asked, clearly skeptical. “Because that sounds like a shitty excuse if I’ve ever heard one.”

Her words stayed with you, and later, you’d learned that Nobara had caught wind of the first part of your conversation with Shoko–the part where you’d been slightly gushing and airing all your nerves about the date to the older woman.

You’re eternally grateful Nobara had chosen to apparently slink away before catching the tail end of the discussion.

You shoot Nobara a glare. “You’re not helping,” you tell her, but she grins triumphantly.

“C’mon! I’m just trying to help you get a cute guy,” she states before offhandedly muttering, “One of us should.”

You wave your hands in an attempt to dispel the sudden miscommunication. Beside you, Satoru was stiff.

“I had a date; it was fine, end of the story,” you state clearly, looking at Nobara pointedly.

But your apparent firmness on the topic does nothing to stop the ever-curious girl. “Was it not good? Oh! Has he not texted you back?”

“Nobara!” you exclaim in disbelief, eyes wide at her insistence.

“What?” she shrugs. “From what I heard, it sounded like you really liked the guy.”

“All right!” Satoru announces out of the blue, clapping his hands to gather his students’ attention. You gratefully allow him to take over. “Don’t you guys have class soon?”

“Shoot!” Yuuji exclaims, hooking an arm through Megumi’s and pulling him forward. “Thanks! See you guys later!”

Megumi jerks out of Yuuji’s grasp and turns back around to wave. Nobara joins them, albeit trailing behind a bit, offering a doleful goodbye.

As they leave, you smile and offer a wave. Satoru still stands beside you, but you can tell that something is a little off. He’s more tense than usual, and his usual grin is absent.

You furrow your brows, but before you can ask if anything’s the matter, Satoru rounds on you, a slight grin hanging from his lips.

“So, we still on for dinner?” he asks, his vaguely strange behavior from earlier having disappeared almost entirely.

Almost.

With a belated nod, you take in his face. But Satoru betrays nothing.

“Sure,” you reaffirm, doing your best to forget Satoru’s minuscule change in demeanor.

You don’t.

If karma exists, you’re being hit with it in full force.

The evening came faster than you expected it to. You barely had enough time to return home, clean up, subsequently get yourself cleaned up, and grab your wallet before Satoru was waltzing through your apartment door like this was his second home.

Though to be fair, it kind of is.

The drive to the restaurant–yours and Satoru’s favorite place–felt short, and any traces of Satoru’s previously strange behavior had all but vanished. Instead, your typical, satisfied friend sat in the drivers seat.

Then, you arrived. At first, everything appeared normally. You were seated at your favorite table, started sipping on your drink, and stole bits of Satoru’s food when he acted like he wasn’t looking.

But then, after nearly choking when Satoru made a dumb joke, you caught sight of a vaguely familiar head of messy blonde curls.

Eyes narrowing, you move in your seat to get a better look at the familiar stranger. Then, you groan, because the head of light curls was most definitely not a stranger.

“Oh, fuck me,” you groan, dropping your gaze and cradling your head in your hand.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be entirely against it,” Satoru jokes, using his chopsticks to jab a piece of meat into his mouth.

You shoot him a scathing look, but your eyes widen when you realize that the waitress just so happened to sit your ex-date directly in your line of sight. And, therefore, place you directly in his line of sight. “Come on,” you groan.

“What? Sorry, I was only mostly joking about that other thing,” the man across from you replies, entirely unaware of your current plight.

You hastily reach for your bag, eyeing Satoru firmly, and you state, “Hurry up–we have to go.”

Satoru’s brows furrow. “What? No. You’re not even done eating,” he points to your plate with his chopsticks.

“Satoru!” you urge, not having the energy to go through the trials this morning and your awkward first-and-only date caused. You can’t help how your gaze suddenly splits to your ex-date across the room, hoping he hasn’t seen you.

However, you quickly come to find that he isn’t the one you should be worried about.

Satoru easily picks up on your rising panic, and with a brow raised in question, he turns to look over his shoulder at the object of your worry. It doesn’t take him long to connect the dots.

“Huh. That him?” Satoru asks, accidentally knocking his elbow against the table as he turns back around. He winces before leaning down to capture his drink’s straw between his lips.

“Wha–well…” you huff, doing your best to keep your head down to essentially hide behind Satoru.

He looks at you over his sunglasses–weirdo wears sunglasses even indoors, at night, you think offhandedly–thoroughly unimpressed.

“Cute,” Satoru states simply, voice only slightly on edge.

He stretches his long legs under the table, and you nearly jump when his knee accidentally brushes against yours.

“Exactly. So we need to leave. Please?” you plead with him, not having nerly enough patience to handle Satoru’s antics right now.

A strange look passes over Satoru’s face, but it’s gone faster than you can decipher.

“Or…” Satoru draws the word out, and a strangely foreboding feeling runs across your nerves. “We could stay. Make him jealous.”

If you had anything in your mouth, you would have promptly spit it out.

“What?” you ask, entirely dumbfounded. All you can do is stare at your friend, who’s looking almost too pleased with himself.

“What? Bad idea?” he asks with a slight frown.

“Uh, you think?” are the first words that instinctually come out of your mouth.

However, the more you think about it…

That budding emotion that’s been steadily rising in you for months rears its head again, and you find that when you go to shoot down Satoru’s suggestion, your mouth is suddenly dry. Flirting with Satoru…even the thought makes your heart crash against your chest, and you feel much too warm despite the restaurant’s air conditioning vent on the opposite wall. Of course, that’s supposing that’s what Satoru is implying. If not, well, you just made an entire fool of yourself.

“Ah, c’mon. You’re no fun,” Satoru stretches again, but this time, when his knee accidentally brushes against you, a flare of something fills you, and you curiously wonder if it was actually an accident.

You cough out a nervous laugh and reach for your drink. “No, I can be fun,” you suggest, but an undertone of something else makes its way into your voice.

Of course, Satoru being Satoru, he easily catches on. Something in his eyes shifts–you can see it as he continues peering at you from over his frames–and a tingly feeling starts in your fingertips at the look.

He still hasn’t moved his knee. Surprisingly–or maybe not so surprisingly–you don’t really want him to.

Satoru’s eyes never leave yours–piercing with some kind of question in them that you can’t entirely discern yet. It’s something familiar yet wholly unfamiliar as you watch it cross your friend’s face; familiar in that you’ve seen it before but never on Satoru’s face. Then, he swallows thickly, throat bobbing as if trying to push down a feeling that threatens to rise up on his features, and you suddenly know what that look is.

Affection, want. Desire.

“You can?” Satoru asks, and while you’d previously felt like you’d been frozen to your seat, the heaviness of his words is coated in a sweet, titillating warmth filled with possibilities that warm you through and through.

No longer worried about your ex-date seeing you, you break your gaze with Satoru. “Maybe,” you say, and your nerves cause only a slight tremble to your voice. “You’ve just never seen it.”

Satoru takes the bait. Or, maybe he was waiting for it all along. “Maybe I want to.”

Oh, his words cause an instant heat to rush through you, and anything outside your booth is suddenly drowned out. It’s like a haze has settled over you both, turning your brain into a vibrating mess of nothing but Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. It suddenly feels a bit harder to breathe, and you vaguely wonder how things have changed this rapidly. How the words and intentions between you and one of your oldest friends quickly went from cordial and friendly to being filled with unanswered questions and staggering but undeniable attraction.

But, you think, maybe that’s where you’re wrong. These feelings you have didn’t appear in the past ten minutes. You’ve felt them for a while, but for a million reasons that don’t seem like reason enough anymore, you can’t shake them.

And you don’t think you want to.

As you think about your words, you sip your drink again, wet condensation filling the spots between your fingers. It seems like Satoru is leaving the metaphorical ball in your court–endlessly selfless even if he often hides it behind lighthearted words and joking actions. And that reminder makes you feel endlessly grateful for him.

“Are you sure?” you ask, and a million questions lie within that one phrase. Is Satoru sure he knows what he’s implying–what you’re implying? Does he mean it, and if he does, is he certain of it? You feel like lightning is zipping through your veins, alighting every nerve you have.

Under the table, Satoru’s knee bounces a bit–almost like he’s nervous–and then you suddenly realize that he is. A surge of affection fills your heart and your chest, making you feel every kind of warmth that exists.

“Yeah,” is all Satoru says, and you think it’s all that he needs to say.

Your heartbeat is in your throat when you reply. “Maybe I want you to, too.”

It doesn’t take much longer for Satoru to have you on his lap in his car, lips hot and insistent on yours as he kisses you breathlessly, hungrily. One hand–large and slightly calloused–rests on your hip, and the realization that he’s touching you and kissing you and it feels so right almost causes you to forget how to breathe. All you can do is kiss him back, mouth opening in surprise at the feel of his hot tongue dragging against your bottom lip.

Satoru groans against you–a low, gravely sound–and it immediately has you pressing closer, greedily taking all of the affection he offers you. He’s everywhere–one hand pressing against your hip so hard that his fingertips turn pale, the other hand brushing against your face, throat, the back of your neck to pull you even closer. All you can smell is the deep, masculine scent that is simply Satoru, and it is merely one out of five hundred things at the moment that make you feel dizzy–like you might collapse in his hold if he wasn’t holding onto you so sweetly, so firmly.

Like he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“S-Satoru,” you say against his lips, voice breathy and pitched higher than usual. A sweet, seductive sound that Satoru has never heard before that, if you weren’t mistaken, causes him to suddenly tense with arousal against you.

“Say it again,” Satoru nips against your bottom lip, pulling away only slightly to stare at your swollen lips, chest heavily panting. The sunglasses are long discarded–tossed haphazardly in the passenger's seat, and the sight of his eyes blown out and demanding is something that causes pleasure to pool heavy in your gut.

Your eyes dart between his, chests meeting as the both of you pant into the limited space separating you. His breath is hot as it fans across your face, and you can’t help but lean down to press your lips against his once more.

“Satoru,” you murmur, lips brushing against his.

The hunger that flashes across his features is something you think you’ll dream about forever.

The next few minutes pass by in a pleasure-filled blur. You don’t remember who moved first, but soon, your pants are discarded carelessly–just as Satoru’s sunglasses were–and his are shoved down his legs. You’re grinding against his pretty, hard cock, pressing your clit against the flushed head every time you rock your hips back down, and Satoru’s hand is up your shirt, pressing your bra up, until your breasts are free and he can grope them. The sight is enough to have you moaning again, seeing the man underneath you flushed with swollen lips and his hand squeezing the fat of your chest.

“Fuck, they’re so nice. So pretty,” Satoru says quietly–almost like he’s not even talking to you–before leaning down and mouthing along your nipple. A gasp gets caught in your throat at the feeling of his soft lips wrapping around your breast, nerves feeling as if they’re standing on end as, at the same time, his fingers press between your legs to swipe against your clit.

“Oh–shit,” you curse at the feeling of pleasure, winding taut and tight as Satoru continues touching you, unraveling you for him.

“Mmm, I never hear you swear,” Satoru grins against your skin, tongue darting out to taste your nipple. He blows on the spit then, and it’s enough to have goosebumps crawling across your skin, and you can’t help but arch against him. “It’s cute.”

Even with his hand shoved between your bodies and fingers pressed tight to your clit, his cock hard and throbbing with every little gasp you let out, Satoru still manages to get under your skin in the best way possible.

Gritting your teeth, you pull away to glare at him, making him release your breast from his mouth. “Satoru,” you nearly groan, unable to stop from grinding against his hand as one, then two, fingers easily press inside you.

“Hm?” he hums under his breath, a slight grin tugging at his lips.

“Are you going to fuck me, or keep teasing the both of us?” You ask, raising a brow and pressing a hand to his chest.

For a moment, other than the two fingers he keeps crooked inside you, easily pressing up, up until he’s massaging against that sweet spot inside you, Satoru pauses. His grin is bright, excited, slightly cocky, and he keeps slowly opening you up, making you lose nearly all sense of reason as his cock throbs against your inner thigh. It appears as though he might’ve said something, but the way you rest, poised above him, cunt all soft and wet and ready for him, your hands on his body, Satoru sinks against his chair with a sigh.

“Wish I could take my time with you,” Satoru says quietly, fingers pushing inside your cunt then pulling out to rub your own slick against your clit. The sensation almost has you keening, and you have to bite your lip to prevent an embarrassing sound from falling past your lips.

“Another time,” you say, not entirely thinking what those words could mean.

Satoru’s breath visibly hitches at your words, and it’s easy to help him adjust so that you’re hovering over his heavy cock, hot and warm in your grasp, before you sink down on him with hardly any resistance.

“Fuck–” Satoru grounds out, head falling against his seat at the feeling of you dropping your hips to take all of him. You’re in no better shape, hands moving to press against his chest as Satoru’s cock presses into you–deep, deeper than you could’ve imagined–and you hastily grind against his lap to feel the heavier weight of him inside you.

“Oh–” you moan, squeezing your eyes shut as you circle your hips again in an effort to feel him nudging against that spot inside you again.

“F-fuck–don’t do that–shit–won’t last long,” Satoru hisses through his teeth, large palms soothing over your back to press against you. He pulls you closer, deeper against his hips, and the new angle has his cock feeling even bigger and heavier inside you.

“Can’t help it,” you reply, your hand turning into a fist against his shoulder, and you slowly lift off him. It doesn’t take long for you to set a steady rhythm–rising off his cock before pressing back down, circling your hips and grinding against him to feel how the head of his cock nudges that spot inside you that has you clenching and moaning his name.

“Well, help it,” Satoru nearly seethes, and when his hips rise up to meet you, all you can do is gasp out his name and take the pleasure he gives you.

“I’ll do my best,” you tell him, but the words feel airy and meaningless when Satoru begins rubbing your clit again, causing that coil to tighten even more.

“Not gonna last long like this,” Satoru groans, hand tightening on your hip as he fucks up into you. Your cunt feels hot and wet, taking his cock in over and over with his every thrust up into your heat.

Embarrassingly, you find yourself agreeing with Satoru. The sight of the man quickly unraveling beneath you–thighs tense, cock disappearing between your thighs every time you sink down on him, his hands held tight and secure on your waist to keep you on him, and pale hair unruly–it itches a pleasure-filled part of your brain and causes your tongue to feel heavy in your mouth.

“That’s okay,” you tell him, hand moving to cup the back of his neck to pull his lips to yours. Satoru obliges quickly, moaning against your open-mouthed kiss. He never stops pressing against your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as you rock yourself over his cock. Moaning, you undulate your hips, aching to feel even more of him, to feel him even deeper. Satoru seems to like this, his grip on you bruising and tight every time he presses his hips back up against your own, chasing a release you know is close by the way his eyes fall shut, and his groin tightens.

“Did you mean it?” he suddenly asks, mumbling against your lips, holding your body tight against his.

“Mean what?” you return, lashes fluttering and a sound of pleasure caught in the back of your throat as he swipes two long fingers against you. You rock back down against him, circle your hips at the same time he pushes tight inside you, and you’re so close to that edge, feel like you might fall over it at any second–

“‘Another time’? Did you mean it?” Satoru asks against your mouth, cock thrusting inside you at just the right angle, fingers pressing deliciously against your clit until you fall over that edge, pleasure clouding your brain and causing you to stiffen up as you fuck him through your high.

Satoru quickly follows, joining you in the deep abyss of pleasure as your tight cunt milks him for all he’s worth, massaging the head of his cock between your slick heat, your moans as you tremble against him something he swears he’ll hear ringing in his ears for years.

Neither of you fully comes down until a few seconds later, Satoru’s hands slightly shaking as he cups your cheek and pulls you in for one last kiss. You lean against him, enjoying the aftershocks of pleasure as they course through you, and it’s only then that you remember his question.

“I don’t know,” you admit, a bit of something akin to shyness seeping into your tone. You swallow at the sudden turn of events–shit, this whole evening is going to give you whiplash, you think.

With his forehead pressed to yours, Satoru’s eyes dart across your face–searching for something. You don’t know if he finds it.

“Okay. That’s okay,” he starts, but stops himself before he can finish his thought. He hesitates, and you raise a brow in question. “There doesn’t have to be. It doesn’t have to mean anything–not if we don’t want it to.”

And there, in the head of Satoru’s car and his embrace, you suddenly feel chilled to the bone. The urge to run far, far away urges you to move–you want to move, you want to go home and crawl under your covers and consider the implications of your’s and Satoru’s actions, of his words.

Shit–of your words.

What held more weight? Your actions or your words?

Fuck. You love him.

You feel wholly embarrassed; embarrassed by your feelings, by your actions, by agreeing to this thinking that Satoru felt the same. Or maybe he does feel the same and you’re too busy reveling in what just happened and everything that didn’t happen to fully take everything in. All you feel is the sharp shame of regret and foolishness because even if he didn’t mean what he said, he still said it, which still hurt. It makes you question yourself, your feelings, and your fucking actions. You want to say something, to ask for clarity. To admit your feelings and tell him that you want it to happen again, and again, and again.

But in the end, you allow the cold to seep through you, replacing the bright warmth that previously filled you. And the words left unspoken fill your heart like a thick, painful dread.

“Hey–you okay? Come back to me.” Satoru furrows his brows, hand cupping your cheek. So, you give him a pained, forced smile, and look at him again.

“I’m okay,” you reply. You could say more–admit your feelings, tell him everything you want to hear. But the fear overwhelms you in its finality.

Instead, you say nothing, a heavy, dreadful weight filling the once blissful space between you.

You can’t shake the feeling of cold.

The next couple of weeks are strange.

Now fully aware of the extent of your feelings for Satoru, you do your very best to avoid him. Maybe if you hadn’t had sex in his car, or come to a realization about your feelings, or if any of the things that had happened hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t feel the need to avoid him.

But they did, so you did.

In fact, you’d been doing a pretty successful job of doing so up until the night of the 29th. Earlier that day, it’d been chilly outside, a reminder of the seasons changing from summer to fall, from fall to winter. As soon as you got home–after another successful day of dodging Satoru’s texts and calls–you hopped into the shower, changed into warm pajamas, and wrapped yourself in a blanket, fully prepared to spend another night wallowing in all the mistakes you’d made.

However, that was before rapid knocking on the door pulled you from your thoughts, alerting you that the night might go differently than you would have liked.

With a sigh, you stand, allowing the plush blanket you’d grabbed to fall from your lap. You have an aching feeling you might know who’s behind the door, and when you open it mid-rap, a hand poised just about to know, your assumptions are confirmed.

“I didn’t think you’d answer,” Satoru says, and you note how his jaw looks tense.

“Me neither,” you admit.

You move back to allow Satoru to enter–something he’s done millions of times before.

So why does this time feel different?

“You’ve been avoiding me.” A statement.

“I’m sorry,” is all you can reply with.

Satoru shakes his head. “You don’t have to apologize to me,” he states, and when he looks at you, you could swear there’s almost something pleading in his gaze.

“But I do–”

“No, you don’t. I’m the last person you’d ever need to apologize to.”

Confusion fills you, wraps around you almost like dread.

“I don’t think I know what you mean, Satoru,” you say slowly, because the words you’re looking for aren’t making themselves known as quickly as you’d like.

As if sensing your beginning discomfort, Satoru braces a hand on the back of your couch. “Don’t you think we should talk about what happened? Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” His underlying meaning is there, but not spoken: about you.

“I just don’t know what to say,” you say, pressing against your middle finger until it begins to hurt. “If you won’t let me apologize, then I don’t know what else to say.”

Hurt makes itself present on Satoru’s face, almost like he’s shocked at how detached your words are.

“Well, I could think of about a hundred,” he retorts, and the sudden harsh edge behind his words almost makes you wince.

“I just don’t think there’s anything else to say.” A lie. You have a million things to say, but you’re afraid of Satoru’s previous words.

This doesn’t have to mean anything.

But you want it to. And amidst your confusion–the balance between what you want and the fear of changing the comfortable, of Satoru’s rejection, of the unknown–is what holds you back.

The fear of changing everything causes you to stand still in silence.

The air between you is tense, and the irony of the situation is not lost on you. A few weeks ago, the air between you was tense, too, but filled with a different kind of anticipation and affection.

Now, it’s just cold.

“Really? Not even about how we had sex? And how I’m pretty sure both of us felt something that’s been making you avoid me for the past few weeks?”

You’re starting to feel like you might be a flight risk. Satoru’s words are uncomfortable to hear, but they’re true. Yet, the fear that wraps itself around you until you feel like you’re bound is solid and unrelenting. You think this is for the best.

“If I wanted to say something, then I would have,” you tell him, doing your best to hold your ground.

You find that it’s incredibly difficult.

“Are you sure? Because I think you’re lying.”

His words are like a shock to your system, leaving a bitter taste on your tongue.

The look on his face–strained, tight around his eyes with a loose grin that looks too forced to really be his–causes that flighty, anxious feeling crawling in your chest to heighten. It fills you unforgivingly, carving out any extra space and constricting your heart until you swear it won’t be able to beat anymore.

Your response–or, you suppose, your lack of one–causes Satoru to scoff derisively. That’s not like him–you think. He must be becoming more and more frustrated with you.

You don’t blame him.

“I don’t know what you’re asking me, Satoru. Or what you want from me. You told me it doesn’t have to matter, right? That’s what you said,” you accuse, doing your best to form some kind of coherent sentence in the mass of things you can say.

His fingers tighten on the back of the couch, and if you hadn’t been fighting the thoughts swarming in your head and the multitude of uncomfortable feelings from eviscerating your bleeding heart, maybe you would have seen how he squeezes until his knuckles turn white.

“If you can’t figure it out by now, then—geez, I don’t know–then I guess I don’t have anything else to say.”

You almost gasp at his words and hate yourself for not having anything to say. Or, you do have things to say–fuck, you want to simultaneously smack a palm upside his head like you did when you were teenagers and pull the back of his neck until your lips met in a frantic, terrifying kiss–but all the words that could have led you there turn to ash in your mouth.

Fear is a horribly terrifying thing.

“I–I don’t–” You wish you didn’t stutter, but the ash suddenly turns to a thick, heady cement that glues your tongue. So, you shake your head, take a deep breath. Anything to shake the choking feeling that suffocates you.

But you took too long. Your silence is all he needs–all he needs to misunderstand. A look of shocked hurt crosses his face–that easy but not-so-truthful grin faltering–and all you can do was hang your head and squeeze your eyes shut as the tears prickled like tiny thorns in the corners of your lashes and the cement coagulated so much that you swear you could taste it.

This was for the best, this was for the best, this was for the best–

Gojo Satoru turned away from you, and if you knew you didn’t have more time, you might’ve stopped him. If you knew he was going to leave, and you were going to die soon, maybe you would’ve been able to speak.

It’s for the best, for the best, this was for the best.

He stops in your doorway, lingers in it uncomfortably with a hand held restlessly against the wall. He turns his head slightly to speak to you, but barely looks at your eyes.

“‘M not gonna say sorry,” he states, voice quieter than normal, but still firm. Like all the humor has been sucked out of it.

You swallow thickly, no longer fighting the tears as they fall in fat streaks down your cheeks, and refuse to look at him. You think that if you do, you might not have the strength to hold your ground.

After all, you aren’t as strong as him.

Without another word, you watch from the corner of your eye as Satoru falters–pausing with his lips parted as if he has more he wants to say–maybe something that could put your mind at ease, something like I love you–but then he firmly closes his mouth, his hand leaves your doorframe, and he leaves your apartment.

As soon as the door is shut with a decisive click, you cover your mouth with your hand, and you sob.

He never comes back, and you would never see Gojo Satoru again.

On the night of October 31st, just a few days later, Shibuya is cold.

This is something that feels strange to you as you lie on the chilled, cracked concrete ground beneath you. You’ve lost feeling in your fingers, your toes, and it feels like something heavy is sitting on your chest, restricting your breathing in a way that’s vaguely concerning. All your medical training fails you, but you remember that loss of feeling is never a good sign.

Shibuya is never cold.

It’s a place that’s constantly full of people and therefore warmth and life. Bustling with the noise of strangers who will never meet and never know each other’s stories, of loud chatter and cars driving to whatever destination they need.

Now, the only people in Shibuya are your fellow sorcerers, and curses are milling about in spaces where people should be. And the only life in the area is that of depleting life. Of people dead and dying. Of the blood pooling around you from a fatal strike you can no longer remember the origin of.

At least that’s warm, you think.

Everything starts to get dizzy, almost like a mixed feeling of vertigo and déjà vu. It’s concerning, but you feel so tired, and all you want is to feel warm again.

So you sink into the feeling, sink into the warmth staining the cracked concrete, the red coating your clothes that you’ll never have to worry about getting out.

Finally, you think about Satoru. Distantly, you think about that fear you had just a few days ago, and you wonder how much of it really mattered.

You love him.

Your last thought is of Satoru, and you hope he’s alright.

Satoru feels numb.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He wishes he felt numb. He feels everything, actually–and what’s the aftermath of feeling everything?

Numbness.

He couldn’t get to you in time.

Now, locked in the Prison Realm, Satoru supposes he has all the time in the world to think about you–to think about everything he could’ve done, should’ve done.

Instead, he had to watch as you died, as he was powerless to help you. The grief rips him to shreds, and another sob he didn’t know he had rises hot and heavy in his throat. It burns, the pain of losing you, and Satoru has the childish urge to kick something, punch something, to let out all the anger and anguish that threatens to consume and overwhelm him as a reminder that there was nothing that he could do.

So Satoru sits, and he thinks about how much he loves you, about everything you lost. His throat becomes raw, but he keeps crying anyway, even when he’s sure his eyes are rimmed with a redness that won’t dissipate for days.

Not that he would be able to see, anyways. After all, he was locked away.

Keen on punishing himself, a thought strikes his brain in the most painful way, but Satoru has no energy left to fight it.

He’s the strongest, yet he’s never been able to protect any of the people closest to him.

Satoru thinks about that night–the night when he could finally hold you as if you were his, if only for a little bit. The soft smile on your lips, the way you let him kiss you, how it felt to shower you in his affections without fear.

He wonders about if you ever really thought about his offer. The one where he offered you a teaching position. You said you would think about it. Had you? Had you decided on teaching, on helping him? Or were you just appeasing your best friend's antics?

You would've made a great teacher. He's always thought so.

He loves you–loved you, he supposes, in light of recent events–yet the last memory he left you was one filled with hurt and despair.

Satoru thought he felt numb, but that was only wishful thinking, just as the idea that you’ll be okay, that Shoko or someone will get to you in time.

But Satoru is no fool.

He sits, simultaneously feeling numb and everything all at once, and he doesn’t have any strength to fight them off.

All he can think of is you, and the tears begin to fall again.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #x female reader

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borathae · 3 months

Text

“Taehyung doesn’t possess patience when it comes to reconnecting with his boyfriend. Jungkook’s there to remind him to take it easy despite the aching longing.”

Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x Vampire!Jungkook

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut, some domestic Fluff in the beginning, Polyamory!AU

Warnings: Taehyung has major FOMO poor boy, he misses his poly family :(, then Kookie comes back home heheh, this is disgusting nasty porn yall, the neediest vampire sex ever, Hard Dom & Top!Jungkook, neediest sub & Bottom!Taehyung, tears, drool, painful anal without preparation at first because Tae wants it, before Kook decides enough is enough and prepares him, strength & muscle kink, feral play (this is a needy Ripper "hunting" a needy Normal besties), rimjob, anal fingering, anal fisting (the real deal), he takes him into a headlock as he does it, lube enema, dirty talk, huge ownership kink (Tae calls Kook "Owner" and Kook calls him "property"), slight dollification, praise, degradation, hair pulling, big dicks, non painful anal as well, oh Tae you impatient bottom, rough blood drinking, stuff goes up Tae's ass which shouldn't go up his ass jsjjsj, besties you have no idea how unhinged this is, but it is also insanely soft and safe, the most comforting aftercare, they're so in love omfg

Wordcount: 8.8k

a/n: this is based on anonie's idea, i probably made it way hornier than you wanted it but i couldn't help myself, i was ovulating as i worked on it fajdsjfa i feel like i need to write your idea as well hahah keep it tame because this is quite frankly nasty porn bahahha enjoy besties, this is so disgusting omfg 😩💜

Taehyung has been alone at the estate for five days. Truly and really alone. You, Yoongi and Hoseok are visiting Seokjin and Emma in Gordes. Jimin is currently visiting friends in London and won’t be home for another week. And Jungkook, well, Jungkook has been on a boxing camp trip for a week now. Which leaves poor Taehyung all alone at the estate.

He could have obviously gone to Gordes as well or went with Jimin, and Jungkook would have probably liked him there with him as well, but Taehyung had a painting to finish. He really wanted to finish it. Being alone at the estate, trapped in the ecstatic state of painting was fun for the first three days, but Taehyung has been beginning to feel lonely. A painting can only distract him that much before the sad state of himself comes creeping up on him.

Taehyung hadn’t even realised how much of his day actually consists of being with his forever family. Be it voluntarily or just simply by existing in the same space together. Taehyung really began to miss those small moments of quality time.

Painting doesn’t feel as nice anymore and he regrets not accompanying one of his friends. He could be in Gordes right now, sipping French wine with his friends, he could be in London right now chatting with Jimin and his friends, he could also be in some rural American boxing camp, watching Jungkook hit punches at other boxing lovers. He could be somewhere else other than his lonely, quiet atelier.

Taehyung huffs out air in frustration and drops the paint brush in the water. He doesn’t want to paint anymore.

He gets up and leaves the atelier and soon his wing. The estate is so big and so empty. Every room he passes makes him feel more and more frustrated.

Perhaps he could talk to someone on the phone. The time shows eight at night, so everyone must still be awake.

He tries you first. You don’t pick up your phone, but a text message arrives soon after.

- Sweetest ♡: I’m sorry, my darling but we’re currently at a wine tasting and I can’t talk here. I’ll call back later. I love you ♡

Taehyung pouts. A wine tasting?? This is so unfair! He wants to be at a wine tasting as well!

He sends you an answer with a jealous pout on his lips.

- Taehyung: Don’t worry about it. Have fun, my darling ♡

- Sweetest ♡: We do. We’re thinking of you, sweetiepie eheh ♡

You attached a selfie of you and the others. Seokjin and Emma are glued together. Emma is grinning brightly, while Seokjin smolders like always. Yoongi has his arm around you, throwing up a peace sign with a toothless smile, while you in contrast show your upper and lower teeth in a cute smile. Hoseok is the one holding the phone, making a cute kissy face at the camera. You all have a wine glass in your hands.

Taehyung smiles and pouts at the same time. As much as he feels sad about it, he also really likes this selfie. You took this picture just for him, thinking of him, but he wants to be on it as well! It’s unfair! He wants to be on the selfie and not here!

- Taehyung: I want to be with you :( I regret my decision of staying here :(

- Sweetest ♡: Nooo Tete, I’m sorry you feel this way :( maybe you could still book a ticket and come here belated?

- Taehyung: Perhaps I will truly do this. I shall talk to Jimin first. I need to hear human voices again.

- Sweetest ♡: Gosh, I understand :( I promise once I have time, I’ll call you back ♡

- Taehyung: Take your time. I love you ♡

- Sweetest ♡: Love you more, darling sweetest sugerbutt ♡

Taehyung laughs, scrunching his nose. He likes it when you call him silly nicknames. This instantly lifted his mood. He sends you one last text which consists of laughing emojis and a heart, then tries to call Jimin.

His best friend picks up after the fifth ring. Loud techno music fills Taehyung’s speaker instantly.

“Hey Tete, I can’t talk right now. We’re at this rave and it’s crazy loud here. I’ll call you back later.”

The phone call ends again. Taehyung pouts. Well, that was a fail. This is so unfair! One friend group is spending their evening tasting French wine, while the other is getting drunk at a rave. Taehyung has never in his life felt more left out than he does right now. This is so unfair!

He tries to call Jungkook. Perhaps he will finally give him the kind of human contact he needs.

“Hey”

“Kookie, he-”

“You’ve reached my voicemail which means I’m currently not available. Leave your message after the beep, I’ll definitely forget to listen to it. Byee.”

The phone beeps.

“For heaven’s sake, Kook. Why must you start your stupid message with a greeting? Do you have any idea of the hope that I just lost? The betrayal I feel? How could you do this to me? I am aching in loneliness and you betray me so cruelly. I won’t forgive you. Change your voice message”, Taehyung rants and ends the call with a huff of air and an aggressive slam of his finger.

Taehyung feels guilty instantly. This was terribly mean. He calls Jungkook again, hoping that he will pick up, even if he knows that he won’t.

“Hey. You’ve reached my voicemail which means I’m currently not available. Leave your message after the beep, I’ll definitely forget to listen to it. Byee.”

“Please forgive me. I didn’t mean my last voice message. It is just that…I am so lonely and I need you with me again. I should have never stayed here. Oh Kookie, I miss you. Okay, uhm, goodbye.”

He ends the call again and stuffs his phone into his pocket. Well, this didn’t help.

Now Taehyung experiences major jealousy on top of all the loneliness as well. He wants to taste wine and dance at raves and be at boxing camps. He wants to be included!

Taehyung spends the next hours sulking in the sitting room. Jimin doesn’t call back, you don’t call back and Jungkook doesn’t call back either. Taehyung is going to die alone. This is what is going to happen. He is going to die from loneliness and the grief of being so left out.

Taehyung goes to sleep without any kind of phone calls coming in, but wakes up to sorry messages from you and Jimin.

Jimin sent his message at around four twenty five in the morning.

- Jimin ♡: I’m so sorry, I just came home from the rave. I tried to call, but you are sleeping already. I hope you didn’t wait for it for too long.

- Taehyung: I didn’t. It’s okay. I hope you aren’t too hungover. ♡

He opens your chat next. They arrived last night at around two.

- Sweetest ♡: TETE I'M SORRY IFGORIT TI CALL

- Sweetest ♡: IM DRUNJ AND YONGUS IS TELLING EE TO STOP TEXT7NG

- Sweetest ♡: but I wanma text yiu and say sorry

- Sweetest ♡: TTET I.M SORRY I LOVE YOU SO MICH PLEAWE DONT BE SAD YOU VAN COME HEER IF YOI WNAT TO

- Sweetest ♡: 😭😭😭

Taehyung smiles. You are cute.

- Taehyung: It seems that the wine tasting was successful 🤣 just sleep it off, darling. I understand ♡

He locks his phone again and rolls out of bed. The loneliness still remains, but at least he feels assured that his friends tried to call once they actually found the time. Everyone except Jungkook. He is still giving Taehyung the silent treatment.

Insecurity joins the loneliness and jealousy. What if he is doing it on purpose? What if Jungkook doesn’t want to talk to him?

Taehyung spends most of his morning hours analysing every text message they exchanged and looking at every picture he sent. He analyses everything. Every word, every letter and every face he can spot in the pictures. He can see a lot of faces which are exactly Jungkook’s type. And even more body types which are exactly his taste.

What if he is moving on with people from the boxing camp? What if he is forgetting about him because he has people way more his type by his side?

Taehyung spends the early afternoon hours feeling sorry for himself and crying in insecurity. Yes, the abandoned estate is definitely not doing him well.

Taehyung is in his wing, feeling sad and lonely, when he hears the front door open. He abandons his painting and uses his powers to get to the entrance.

He doesn’t even bother to use the stairs, flinging himself over the railing so he can jump down this way. He lands quietly, but still startles whoever walked through the front door.

“Geez! You scared me, oh my god!”

“Jungkook! Jungkook, you are home!?”

“Hey there, oof”, Jungkook says and grunts, stumbling back as he gets Taehyung throwing himself around his neck. His back knocks into the door from the force of Taehyung’s jump, making Jungkook both laugh and grunt.

“You’re home! You’re home!”

Taehyung wraps his legs around his waist, using his strength to keep himself glued to Jungkook. The latter drops his bags and slides his hands under Taehyung’s butt to support him.

“Welcome home to me, I guess. Are you okay? Are you crying?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Baby, what’s the matter?”

“Why did you ignore me? Did I do something?”

“I’m sorry Tae, fuck. I’ve been travelling since yesterday and didn’t have my phone turned on. Did you need something?”

“Yes. You”, Taehyung says and lifts his head.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, reaching up to wipe the tears away. His eyes are soft in adoration. He keeps one hand under Taehyung’s butt, using the back of his other hand to wipe his cheeks and on the side he can reach easier, he uses his thumb to dry his tears. Taehyung leans into the touches, sniffling with the biggest pout on his lips.

“God Tae, you old sap. I’m here now though.”

“Good”, Taehyung says and slams his lips down onto Jungkook’s.

“Mhm”, he lets out, accepting his fate with a fond chuckle. Taehyung isn’t going to break this kiss any time soon. That much is sure.

Jungkook collides with the wall, gasping loudly at the rough contact. Taehyung latches himself onto him, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He whimpers and mewls, sucking on Jungkook’s skin as if his life depended on it.

“Tae, fuck”, Jungkook purrs, rolling his eyes back sensually and tilting his head to the side. Taehyung’s fangs grace his skin sometimes, his long fingers dig deep into his flesh. His boyfriend is desperate and he lets Jungkook feel it.

“Fuck baby, that feels so good, fuck”, Jungkook purrs, groping Taehyung’s hips to get him closer. He even lifts his knee just enough that Taehyung can hump it.

He was correct. Taehyung didn’t break the kiss in a long time. Jungkook doesn’t know how long he spent carrying him as he kissed him in the entrance hall. He probably would still do it if he hadn’t set him down gently and made the mistake of breaking the kiss.

“Can I at least take off my coat?” he asked, but Taehyung didn’t let him.

Taehyung ripped it off of him and then grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to drag him upstairs. Jungkook followed with laughter and attempted complaints to slow down, but Taehyung merely silenced him with deep kisses and needy groping.

Jungkook doesn’t know how long it took them to get to Taehyung’s wing. The walk isn’t long normally, but Taehyung kept pressing him against whatever surface closest and then proceeded to kiss him forever. Truly, Jungkook didn’t even get to breathe properly, let alone speak words.

Taehyung lifts his puffy lips from Jungkook’s heavily marked neck. He groans as he does, grabbing his boyfriend by his clothes so he could drag him again. Jungkook lets it happen with a laugh, throwing his head back in joy.

“Fuck Tae, just let me come home. I was on a plane not long ago, I’m disoriented.”

“Come home with my help”, Taehyung answers him and throws him onto his atelier’s fur rug.

Jungkook falls, laughing loudly because the entire situation is hilariously cute to him. He loves being welcomed home this way. He really does.

“Fuck Tae, you needy baby”, he laughs. His dark hair is a mess, Taehyung messes it up even more when he mounts his lap and then drags him into a sloppy kiss by his hair.

Jungkook purrs deeply, kissing him back happily. His strong hands come to grasp his boyfriend’s body, dimpling the softness of his thighs and marking his waist as his’.

By now, it is clear to him what this night will bring. Bodies reconnecting in the most carnal of ways. He doesn’t dislike this idea. On the contrary, the sweatpants he’s been wearing have become rather tight around his crotch and breathing is so difficult when all he can do is fight for air. He missed Taehyung. He really did.

Jungkook wasn’t supposed to come home for another week, but couldn’t take the distance anymore. With a yearning heart, he booked a plane ticket and decided to surprise Taehyung by coming home earlier than planned. The aching for his warm touch and lovely voice was just too grande. Jungkook had hoped that Taehyung would welcome him home passionately, smiling into the kiss now that it is finally his sweet reality.

Taehyung’s weight is atop his swollen cock, grinding and grinding and grinding against him in needy riding motions. The chuckles once present on Jungkook’s swollen lips get replaced by deep purrs of desperation.

“Fuck. Tae”, he murmurs between kisses, “I’m hard for you. Fuck. So hard.”

The kiss breaks through Taehyung’s will. Jungkook is left gasping and chasing his lips. Not for long however because then they are busy parting in shock as he watches Taehyung rip his own clothes from his body. Yes, truly and honestly rip. The fabric rips easily under his immense strength. Not even the leather belt stands a chance, getting thrown to the side.

“Damn baby…”

Once entirely naked and exposed, Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s shirt. His heavy, swollen cock slaps against his own stomach with each movement, but neither man cares right now. Taehyung because he needs to get Jungkook naked and the latter because he fears for his shirt’s life.

“Wait! Don’t!” Jungkook blurts out and sits up to take it off quickly, “don’t rip my clothes. I like them.”

“Hurry up, please”, Taehyung begs, leaking onto Jungkook’s lap because his cock is so, so lonely. He is kneeling for now, giving Jungkook space to move.

“Jesus fuck Tae, what’s gotten into you? I’ve never seen you that horny before” Jungkook mumbles, taking off his pants as well.

“I was so lonely. Oh Kook, I was so lonely.”

“I’m here now, baby.”

“Please don’t listen to the voice messages I left.”

Jungkook meets Taehyung’s eyes. He is smirking playfully while Taehyung seems embarrassed.

“I am serious.”

“You know that I really wanna do it now, don’t you?”

“No. They’re stupid”, Taehyung says and hooks his hands in Jungkook’s briefs.

Rip!

“Hey!” Jungkook gasps, watching with big eyes as Taehyung throws his destroyed briefs over his shoulders, “what the hell? I told you that I’ll do it, didn’t I? Huh? Where did you get that lube from? Tae wait, what are you doing?”

Taehyung scrambles onto Jungkook’s lap higher and pushes him down into the rug again. Jungkook moans, connecting with the floor in a low thump.

“Tae give me a min- holy fuck”, Jungkook gasps and arches his back, gripping Taehyung’s waist desperately. Taehyung is jerking his cock quickly, using lube to make it slip easier, “Tae…holy fuck ahmmm”, he purrs deeply, looking just a little dazed.

“I need you”, Taehyung chokes out and positions himself over Jungkook’s cock.

“Tae, you didn’t even stretch”, Jungkook gasps, sitting up in horror as he watches his terribly unprepared boyfriend lower his hips closer and closer to his cock. He grips his hips, tries to stop him but too late. His unstretched hole comes in contact with Jungkook girthy cockhead. The resistance even hurts Jungkook and he has the easier job of sinking in, “baby, stop that.”

“Be quiet”, Taehyung murmurs and stubbornly pushes down. He rim protests in stinging pain.

“Hey, you’ll hurt yourself, hey”, Jungkook tries to stop him. He really, really does, but Taehyung is stubborn and he is desperate for cock.

He tries harder. Jungkook’s thick tip breaches his hole. The resistance breaks with a snap and then Taehyung sinks down three inches within the blink of an eye.

“Ah”, he lets out, convulsing in obvious discomfort.

“Holy fuck, you’re so tight”, Jungkook croaks, gasping for air as his brows shoot up in surprise.

Taehyung sobs, pushing his hips down even if his hole begs him to stop.

“Hey stop it please Tae”, Jungkook speaks softly but with worry in his voice, “come on, get off. I’ll eat you out, finger you until you’re loose.”

“Shut up”, Taehyung spits, finally lifting his head and giving Jungkook view of his tear-stained face, “I don’t want to be stretched. I don’t care about the pain, I just want to be with you again. Stop telling me to get off of you. Do you not want me? Is that it?” he babbles and sobs.

“Tae, no”, Jungkook gasps, cradling his cheeks, “of course I want you. Hey, don’t cry, hey it’s okay”, he whispers and begins littering his face with worried kisses.

“Then stop saying that”, Taehyung gets out and whimpers.

Jungkook bottoms out. Taehyung’s walls are almost painfully tight around his cock, his rim squeezes so harshly around his base that it feels as if he was wearing a cockring.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna make you cry. I just worry”, Jungkook whispers and wipes his tears, “doesn’t it hurt?”

“I don’t care. I want to be with you”, Taehyung says and drops his face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck. He hugs him, burying his left hand deep in his hair and gripping his upper arm with his right hand, “please I want to be with you, please.”

“You can, baby. I’m not going anywhere”, Jungkook assures him, hugging him gently as his hand dances up and down his back.

“Do you want me?”

“Of course I do. I want you so bad.”

“Then show me.”

“What?”

“Show me”, Taehyung insists louder, squeezing Jungkook against him, “show me please”, he adds and whimpers as he tries to move on Jungkook’s cock.

The younger vampire understands. He wants him to do the fucking. Jungkook pushes his legs apart for better support and rolls his hips up. His cock has a hard time shifting inside Taehyung. The pained moan Taehyung releases was expected by Jungkook.

“Don’t you want to take it slow? I can barely move”, Jungkook says.

Taehyung shakes his head, giving his hair an impatient tug.

“Fine. One more time. I’ll move now”, Jungkook says and rolls his hips up.

Taehyung moans painfully again, scraping his nails over Jungkook’s scalp.

“Again. Now”, Jungkook warns him and bucks his hips up.

It is difficult for him to listen to Taehyung’s pained noises. He pulls him closer, trying to ease the pain by spreading his buttocks. It eases some of the pressure around his shaft, he hopes that it eases some of the burn for Taehyung as well.

“Again. Now”, he says and fucks his cock into his tight hole.

Taehyung shudders, fleeing the thrust instinctively.

“Please say something. Are you okay?” Jungkook begs and slides his fingers to Taehyung’s hole to soothe it. He rubs his burning rim in circular motions, keeping his hips still for now.

“It feels so good.”

“No, it doesn’t. You’re fleeing.”

“Please, I’m begging you, please”, Taehyung begs and sobs against Jungkook’s neck, “please don’t stop.”

“Fuck”, Jungkook gets out, gripping Taehyung’s ass to spread it. He rolls his hips up, biting down on his lower lip because the squeeze is incredibly intense. Taehyung’s tight walls basically drag Jungkook’s skin over his own cockhead, giving him sensations normally only a tight handjob brings with it. He drops his hips, squeezing Taehyung’s buttocks before he thrusts up again. It drags and drags and drags. He drops again.

“Fuck, I think you need more lube.”

“No, it’s perfect. Please.”

“It feels like your ass is fucking jerking me off. It’s so tight.”

“Good”, Taehyung convulses in a grateful sob, pressing his hips back onto Jungkook’s cock, “I’m serving you. Owner gets jerked with my useless ass.”

Jungkook throbs inside Taehyung. He widens his eyes, staring at the room with held breath.

“Owner?”

“I’m your property.”

“Tae”, Jungkook croaks and buries his right hand in his hair, “holy fuck, what are you saying?”

“Please tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“That you’re my owner.”

“I am. I fucking own you. Holy fuck, Tae”, Jungkook gets out and growls deeply, gripping Taehyung’s waist to keep his hips still. He fucks up into him. The pressure is still there, the squeeze of his rim didn’t get less.

Taehyung moans painfully, arching his back as he begs to be fucked through it.

“Keep breathing. I own you and I want you to fucking breathe for me, property. Understood?”

“Yes”, Taehyung mewls, nodding his head vigorously. He is drifting away into a headspace he hasn’t been in for a long time. Jungkook should have never ever been gone for as long as he did, because Taehyung should have never left this headspace for as long as he had to.

“That’s it. I like when you behave. I’ll do it again. Breathe in.”

Taehyung obeys.

“And out.”

Taehyung obeys for a second and then Jungkook’s cock stretching his hole makes him sob instead.

“In.”

Taehyung obeys. It doesn’t hurt when Jungkook pulls out. It feels good. Like something, which wasn’t supposed to be there, is finally getting removed. Of course that’s it. Jungkook’s cock is still an unwanted object for his hole. Of course it feels good when he pulls out and therefore removes it.

“Out.”

Taehyung obeys. The burn returns. Taehyung can barely exhale before his throat produces another pained whimper. He pushes back. He wants it to stop burning. He needs his body to understand that Jungkook isn’t unwanted, that his cock is familiar to his hole and that he is exactly where he is supposed to be. His heart knows, his brain as well, so why does his body refuse to acknowledge it?

“In.”

Taehyung obeys.

“Out.”

A second then it hurts and he whimpers.

“Why?” he sobs.

“What’s the matter?”

“Why doesn’t it get it? Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not foreign. Why doesn’t it get it?”

“Who?”

“My body”, Taehyung lifts his head to stare at Jungkook with widened, teary eyes, “why doesn’t it want to accept you back? I want to have you back so bad. Why is it making it so hard?”

Jungkook frowns.

“Don’t look at me this way. Please, I’m not crazy.”

“Hey. Stop that”, Jungkook says and lifts him off his lap. He gets on his knees, carrying Taehyung in his arms. He keeps his cock inside because he is aware that if he pulled out, Taehyung might have a mental breakdown. It is obvious in how desperately he clings to him instantly and how he tries to clench even if that makes it hurt even more.

“You’re not crazy. You’re just impatient”, Jungkook speaks to him softly and full of patience. He lies him down on his back, supporting his head until it is safely engulfed in the fur of his rug. He pulls out.

“No. Please”, Taehyung begs, trying to pull him back with his legs around his hips, but Jungkook shakes them off. He grabs for him next, “please. Please don’t do this, please.”

“It’s okay, just keep breathing”, Jungkook assures him and takes Taehyung’s legs to slide them off his hips. He struggles for a bit as Taehyung tries to use his strength against him, “come on”, is all Jungkook needs to say for Taehyung’s legs to fall off of him like limp, useless things.

“That’s better”, Jungkook praises and positions himself over Taehyung.

Taehyung looks up at him. Sniffly, teary eyed and pouty. His normally big hands are balled into tiny fists, resting on his chest this way.

“Who knows what’s best for you?” Jungkook speaks in a soft voice, staring deep into his eyes.

“You”, Taehyung whispers.

“That’s right. And what does that mean for you?”

“Owner controls me.”

“That too, but…”

“I, I have to let you do what needs to, to be done.”

“Good job”, Jungkook praises and rewards Taehyung with kisses to his overly sensitive neck.

Taehyung moans shakily instantly, rolling his head to the side as far as it can go. Every kiss placed onto his skin feels better than the one before. Every kiss painted onto his body leaves him trembling for Jungkook. It feels so good to be adored.

Jungkook doesn’t stay on his neck for as long as Taehyung would have wanted him to, but he doesn’t get to complain because he makes up for it by kissing his way down to his nipples and taking them into his mouth.

Taehyung opens his legs as far as he can. He arches his back, gasps for air and whimpers even louder. His cock is throbbing, his hole is clenching and his veins are filling with electricity. It feels so good. Jungkook feels so good.

And again, he doesn’t stay on his nipples for as long as Taehyung wanted him too. And again, Taehyung doesn’t mind because he makes up for it.

Jungkook straightens up, kneeling by Taehyung’s side, and wraps his arms around Taehyung’s right thigh. He lifts his lower body off the ground and twists it just enough that he has access to his hole. He moans as he buries his face between his ass, closing his eyes because there is no sweeter taste to him.

Taehyung wails up in pleasure, gripping the fur of the rug and twisting it desperately just as Jungkook twists his body to gain access to his hole. He soothes the burn with eager licks, drawing the first moan of honest pleasure from Taehyung’s lips.

Jungkook purrs, furrowing his brows in bliss. Taehyung tastes like sweet lube and hints of his own cock. He licks it off of him eagerly until only the taste of his hole remains. Addictive. His taste is a fucking drug to Jungkook. He growls and buries his face deeper until his nose is surrounded by his musk and sweet scent.

“Kook…”

“You taste so good, holy fuck”, Jungkook lulls and fucks his tongue deeper, grinding his nose against his ass this way.

Taehyung whines and wiggles, trying to flee because it feels too good to handle. It triggers Jungkook’s hunting instincts, resulting in the Ripper to wrap his strong arms around Taehyung’s hips and keep them still this way. He growls into him, shoving his wet tongue into his hole in an almost punishing rhythm.

“Kook”, Taehyung wails into the rug, “please. Please Kook please.”

Jungkook answers him in growls and his tongue curling deep inside. His biceps is tensing, his fingers are bruising the soft parts of Taehyung’s waist. He can beg all he wants, Jungkook is going to show him how well he can prepare him.

He hates when Taehyung is impatient. It angers him. His boyfriend shouldn’t hurt himself just because he is too needy for his own sake. He should take it slow, stretch until his hole is shaped for Jungkook. His impatience is offensive to Jungkook. How dare he not take the best care of himself. How dare he neglect himself.

“It’s too much please, it’s too much”, Taehyung begs, grabbing bundles of the rug far above his head so he can drag himself away from Jungkook’s eager mouth.

Jungkook breaks away from him, hunting him with a deep growl of his name.

“Don’t flee”, he orders, grabbing Taehyung’s hips to drag him back.

Taehyung slides over the rug with a squeak and his trembling fingers losing grip on the rug.

“When I tell you that I wanna prepare you, you’re supposed to arch your back and let me do my fucking thing. Understood?”

“It feels too good, I can’t do this”, Taehyung mewls, fighting his boyfriend’s grip just so he can pull him back again. He loves this so much. To be so desired to be taken forcefully turns him on so much. This is exactly what he needed. He needed to be hunted and claimed.

“I don’t care. You’re gonna feel good. Now arch your back.”

Taehyung whimpers, getting to his knees and elbows to arch his back.

“That’s better. Such a good property”, Jungkook praises and buries his face back between Taehyung’s buttocks. He sucks and licks eagerly, feasting on his taste like a starved man.

“Kook please”, Taehyung chokes out, dropping his face on his own lower arm. He pulls his lips back in a mewl, furrowing his brows. He never should have gotten to his knees. It is difficult to keep the position when Jungkook makes his thighs shake so much.

It is moments like these which remind the two men how useless the passage of time is to them. The night ages, but they are still the same. Jungkook takes a lot of time feasting on his boyfriend’s sculpted ass. By the time he finally lifts his head again, Taehyung soaked the rug with his leaking cock and his legs barely want to support him.

“Holy fuck Tae”, Jungkook groans, “holy fuck, I need to bottle your taste so I can always have it. Holy fuck”, he moans and licks a thick stripe along Taehyung’s spine. He forces him onto the ground this way, using his body weight for it. It is an easy task to pin down Taehyung. He lets it happen willingly, tilting his head into unnatural angles just so Jungkook has access to his throat. Jungkook claims it with a guttural moan and his tongue leaving wet strips of ownership on his skin.

“Who do you belong to?” Jungkook rasps.

“You”, Taehyung whimpers.

Jungkook purrs, wrapping his stronger arm around Taehyung’s throat so he can take him into a headlock.

“Who owns you?”

“You.”

Jungkook drags Taehyung into a different position so he was spooning him. They are so close this way. Jungkook’s thick, swollen cock presses against Taehyung’s ass this way. Taehyung gasps for air in the tight headlock, drooling all over Jungkook’s arm.

“Who dictates your every step?”

“You”, Taehyung presses out and trembles.

“That’s right”, Jungkook closes his arm tighter around Taehyung, dragging his parted lips over his temple. He runs his other hand down his side, sliding it under his thigh, “lift your leg.”

Taehyung obeys happily, panting in excitement. Now it is finally time. He was patient and Jungkook will finally reward him with his cock. He lifts his bent leg as high as he can, arching his back so Jungkook has even better access to his needy hole.

“There we go. Such a good property”, Jungkook rasps and fills Taehyung’s hole.

With his finger. One of it. He is being purposefully cruel at this point. Taehyung could easily take three.

Taehyung huffs out air as much as he whimpers, pressing back into Jungkook’s hand in an attempt to get more.

Jungkook watches with a dirty grin on his lips, keeping his finger still so he can feel every desperate clench Taehyung’s hole is doing.

“Please”, Taehyung begs.

“Please what?”

“More. Please more.”

“But Tae. I need to prepare you.”

“Please Owner, please don’t do this to me, please”, Taehyung chokes out and grips Jungkook’s lower arm, “please, I need more please.”

“You’re adorable”, Jungkook rasps and buries two more fingers in Taehyung’s hole.

He can literally feel the relief in Taehyung’s sigh, watch it in the way his entire body relaxes and smell it in the thick droplets of pleasure seeping from his cock. He was so tense, but suddenly grows limp in Jungkook’s arms. As if Jungkook’s fingers pressed a button and shed his body of every burden ever.

His eyes roll back and close halfway, his mouth opens without ever closing. This is true bliss. This is how he looks when he finally experiences true bliss.

Jungkook feels a warm tug on his heart, his stomach flutters. He has the prettiest boyfriend. Look at him relaxing on his fingers. Look at him getting high on the feeling of them. Look at him being so perfect.

Jungkook leans down and kisses his cheek, keeping close afterwards. He begins moving inside him, fucking his fingers in and out slowly and curling them each time they press against his prostate.

“You’re so pretty”, Jungkook whispers.

“Kook”, Taehyung keens, spilling tears on his arm. He is pretty. He is desired, he is loved, he is wanted. His body grows so weak in relief that his leg drops and his hands slip from Jungkook’s lower arm.

“Hurts?” Jungkook asks, chasing him.

“More.”

Jungkook obeys, burying his pinkie inside him as well. His hole welcomes him greedily, swallowing his hand until he sits inside him to his knuckles. He throbs and convulses around him, burying his face in Jungkook’s arm. His moan is muffled like this, Jungkook feels it against his skin.

“Isn’t that so much better, hm?” Jungkook whispers deeply, “to let me prepare you and show you how slutty your hole can get? Mhm? Isn’t that so much better?”

“Yes”, Taehyung mewls, nodding his head vigorously. He pulls his lips back again, squeezing his eyes shut, “ah, ah, a-ah.”

“Keep moaning for me, that’s it. Such a good property. Fuck, I own the best boy”, Jungkook praises, twisting his hand deep inside Taehyung.

“Ohgnng”, Taehyung chokes out through gritted teeth, twisting a bundle of the fur rug. Jungkook watches it happen, just as he watches how much his fingers shook as he did it.

He repeats what he did before. Hand deep inside him. Twist it. Left and right, left and right, left and right. Shape his hole, stretch his rim, fill his walls. Twist, twist, twist.

Taehyung begins shaking so sweetly, drooling so much onto Jungkook’s arm that it is running down his sculpted paths by now.

Out again. Jungkook picks up the thick, wet pleasure Taehyung’s cock leaks and covers his hand with it.

“How’s my boy doing, hm?”

“Good…”

“That’s good to hear. Such a good property, I love owning you so much. Now breathe for me.”

Taehyung obeys, feeling dizzy. This is the best and safest headspace he has ever been in. He is owned. Desired. Pretty. Wanted. Taken care of. He is so safe. So, so safe.

Back again. Jungkook fills his boyfriend with his hand. No fingers left out. Hand slickened by Taehyung and body so close to him. Taehyung takes Jungkook’s fist as if he was born to do so, sobbing into his arm because nothing will ever prepare him for the fullness. There is no resistance, no pain. Just pleasure and the ecstatic knowledge that he is able to take an entire hand. His rim sits around Jungkook’s wrist, his walls pulsate around his hand.

“How’s that?”

“Good”, Taehyung whimpers, throbbing around Jungkook’s fist.

Jungkook curses under his breath, and drags his lips to Taehyung’s ear.

“You take a fist like no other, Tete”, he whispers raspily, twisting it inside him.

“You’re making me climax”, Taehyung mewls, convulsing around his fist.

“I am?”

He nods his head vigorously.

“Do you want it?”

He shakes his head vigorously.

“I figured. That’s my good property, you know your fucking place”, Jungkook praises and pulls his hand out.

Taehyung hole complains loudly, gaping around nothing.

“Oh god, it hurts”, Taehyung whines, twitching in the agony of getting edged.

“I know”, Jungkook says and sits up. He slides his arm from under Taehyung’s head and grabs the older vampire’s hips to lift them and fix his position. He turns his body so he was resting on his tummy, then places his hips back into the rug. He fixes the position of his bent leg, running his palm up the back of his thigh. He pushes his hips into the rug, forcing a shaky whimper to escape Taehyung because the movement grinds his cock against the fur. It sticks to his cock and feels rough. Taehyung opens his trembling fingers just so he can bury them deeper in the fur.

“There we go. You’re such a good property, letting me fix you like you’re my pretty doll.”

Taehyung mewls, shaking as if Jungkook just fucked him deep and hard. He loves being a doll. He especially loves being Jungkook’s doll. He loves it so, so much.

Sometimes, when Jungkook makes him feel especially safe, he slips into a doll-like headspace and when that happens, Jungkook truly controls everything which happens to Taehyung. He carries him around, fixes his positions, plays with him, dresses him up and most importantly bundles him in cozy blankets once he is done. And Taehyung loves every second of it, feeling so so safe that sometimes he ends up crying happy tears in Jungkook’s arms.

Taehyung loves being Jungkook’s pretty doll. He loves it so, so much.

Jungkook’s hands leave his body. Taehyung lies limp just like Jungkook’s pretty doll is supposed to, waiting for him impatiently patient. The sound of something being twisted open meets Taehyung’s ear, the sound of something being placed aside follows. A slight wet sound, then something seems to spread the wetness. Silence.

Jungkook’s left hand touches his butt and spreads it apart. Cool wetness touches his rim. Pressure. A stretch. It is nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s fist.

Taehyung mewls, trying to make sense of what is happening. Jungkook just inserted something in his hole, he knows that much, but it doesn’t feel like his fist nor his cock. It is hard and has plastic rills all over it.

Something cold and wet begins filling him up.

“Wh-what?” Taehyung gets out, reaching behind himself until he can hold Jungkook’s wrist, “what are you doing to me? What are you putting inside?”

“Do you feel it?”

“Yes.”

“How does it feel?”

“Cold. Wet.”

“Guess”, Jungkook says and more of it begins filling up his insides.

It is liquid. Very obviously. Taehyung tries to think even if his brain is getting scrambled. Liquid. Jungkook clearly opened something. Whatever is inside his ass feels hard like plastic and has the exact rills on its shaft like a bottle does. The lube bottle. Jungkook is feeding him lube straight from the bottle.

“Lube”, Taehyung gets out and whimpers, arching his back into the sensation.

“That’s right. I’m giving you a good, thick lube enema. Mhm? I know you like that, property.”

Taehyung sobs, convulsing desperately. Jungkook chuckles almost tauntingly.

“I knew you would like that”, he says and stops applying pressure on the bottle, “you know what to do?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Jungkook pulls out the bottle. Taehyung tries to clench instantly, but fails. There is just way too much lube inside and Jungkook’s fist stretched him too wide. The lube seeps out of him in big, gooey globs, covering his ass on its way down.

“Sorry”, he squeaks, reaching behind himself in a desperate attempt to scoop it up and put it back inside. It doesn’t work. All it does is get his fingers messy.

“You’re cute”, Jungkook chuckles and swats his hands away, “you won’t get anywhere like this. Let me”, he says and presses Taehyung’s hips snug against the floor.

He pushes his cock between his ass, feeding his dripping hole his cock in one good thrust.

“Ah!” Taehyung screams up, throwing his head back.

“There we go, that’s gonna keep it inside”, Jungkook lulls and chases the sensation with sensual rolls of his hips.

Taehyung curls his toes, arches his back, clenches his hole, shakes. He can’t control any of the reactions washing over his body. He finally gets fucked by Jungkook. He needed his cock like nothing else. It doesn’t hurt anymore, it simply feels wonderful. The stretch is nice. The girth and impressive length fills him up so well and because Jungkook put so much fucking lube up his ass, there is not even a hint of friction.

“How’s that, my doll?” Jungkook asks him, running his big hands along Taehyung’s soft sides until he has his waist between his fingers.

“Faster, please”, Taehyung squeaks out.

“Like this?” Jungkook asks as his hips pick up speed skilfully. He keeps Taehyung pinned down with both hands on his lower back and his huge thighs caging in Taehyung’s.

“Kook, Koo-ook, oh god Kook!” Taehyung moans, throwing his head back as best as possible.

“That’s so much better. Fuck, I love fucking your ass when it’s like that”, Jungkook growls, drilling his huge cock up his boyfriend’s noisy hole, “don’t give me any of that unprepared, tight shit. Fuck, I love it most when you’re stretched. So fucking good, you’re such a good fucking property. Fuck.”

“Owner, ah Owner please.”

“Please what? Use your words.”

“Harder. Please!”

“You drive me fucking insane”, Jungkook growls and puts strength into his fast movements. Skin slaps against skin, lube spreads everywhere.

Taehyung wails, convulsing under him in pure ecstasy. He is getting drilled like a fucking animal. His hole keeps squirting lube, his ass keeps jiggling with each impact. He can feel Jungkook’s hip bones bruise his ass. It will begin hurting soon. Good. That means he is getting fucked hard and fast.

“Harder please! Harder!”

“Urgh Tae”, Jungkook spits and bares his fangs in an angry scowl. He doesn’t hold back anymore. He isn’t human and neither is Taehyung. There is no fragility needing to be considered, no weak bones or long healing times. Jungkook doesn’t need to hold back and it’s fucking glorious.

The marble under his knees cracks and breaks, forcing him to sink just a little deeper into Taehyung because of the sudden dent in the floor. Jungkook growls, breaking marble again as his toes try to grip.

“Fuck Tae. Fuck”, he spits, chasing the ecstasy of being so fucking free. No restraints. No fucking restraints. Freedom. Hot, wet freedom lies right between Taehyung’s legs and he is the only one getting it. He is getting all of it. Fucking all of it.

Taehyung wails, clawing at the rug because somehow he still hadn’t expected Jungkook to go so berserk on him. He wanted it, knew that Jungkook could do it and yet he still wasn’t ready. It feels so good that Taehyung swears he is in a constant state of orgasmic bliss. That would explain why his prostate burns so much and why his stomach keeps convulsing.

“You’re making my fucking cock grow. Holy fuck, Tae”, Jungkook growls and Taehyung swears he might rip his hole apart.

He reaches behind himself, clawing at Jungkook’s wrists until the younger vampire takes his hands and pins them above his head. He growls above him like a predator, drilling his fully grown vampire cock into his hole. Not an inch he leaves out. Not an inch misses out on Taehyung’s wet, burning insides.

“Stay still”, Jungkook commands in a demonic voice. He breathes in through gritted teeth, making a deep grumbling sound as he does. He breathes out, the grumbling is louder, bordering that of a growl.

“Big.”

“Yeah, I’m big. So fucking big”, Jungkook hisses and squeezes Taehyung’s wrists together, “take me. Take all of me. You’re my property. Holy fuck, I fucking own you. You’re mine. Mine. Mine. Mine”, his voice loses more and more of its humanity the longer he chants.

Taehyung is crying at this point, drooling into the rug as his nose becomes a snotty mess. It is obvious by now, he can’t stop fucking cumming. Jungkook’s cock is so big. His hips are punishing. His grip possessive and his words territorial. It makes Taehyung cum without a break in between.

“Mine. You’re mine. Mine, urgh Tae”, Jungkook growls and gives in. He buries his fangs deep in Taehyung’s neck, forcing the older vampire to scream up in a mixture of shock, pleasure and discomfort.

Taehyung tries to flee, writhe away, get the fangs out his neck. Jungkook doesn’t let him shake him off. He slams his hand onto the back of Taehyung’s head and applies pressure. The fangs in his neck grow, his cock does as well. Jungkook is losing his humanity. Even the last little bit of it. He is an animal, a monster. This is his truest form.

Jungkook growls and huffs out air like an angry bull, sucking on Taehyung’s neck as if his life depended on it.

Sudden acidic burning fills Taehyung’s veins. It truly hurts, forcing him to writhe under Jungkook helplessly. And the most fucked up part of it? Taehyung has to fucking squirt because of it. He reaches behind himself and twists Jungkook’s hair to pull him tighter to his neck while his own grown cock squirts into the rug.

Jungkook growls and moans, shooting his acid deep into Taehyung’s neck just as his huge cock shoots far up his ass. His. Taehyung is his. He makes sure that his body remembers in more ways than one. Pumped full of his cum and his acid, Taehyung is truly and perfectly marked as Jungkook’s possession.

Jungkook tenses up soon, dropping onto Taehyung as paralysation sets in. His huge cock is still throbbing inside him, his mouth is open and leaking saliva diluted blood all over Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung is destined to lie still and let Jungkook regain his control. He is heavy and stiff on top of him, his hot breath smells like blood and acid. Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut, crying softly. He is owned. He loves being owned. This just healed him. To be a prey so desired, to be devoured and brought to his limits. Taehyung feels so beautiful knowing that he could get Jungkook to lose control in such ways. He was desirable to him. He was good. Taehyung feels so beautiful and loved. So, so loved.

Jungkook begins moving soon, huffing out growled breaths as he pushes himself up onto his hands. He is still dripping blood from his mouth, his face is contorted into his truest form. Taehyung stays still, not daring to move and check up on him. Jungkook sounds scary and Taehyung has been reduced to a trembling, scared little thing. A happy thing, but scared nonetheless.

Jungkook pulls out of Taehyung’s ass and grips the lube bottle. He flips it to the bottle side and pushes it into Taehyung’s gaped asshole. This is calculated. This had a reason. Taehyung shouldn’t close up yet, he shouldn’t lose Jungkook’s cum. The bottle was the only thing big enough to fill his gape.

Taehyung whimpers, writhing helplessly.

“Don’t move. If I come back and see you having spilled my cum, I’m gonna hurt you till you’re crying. Got it?” Jungkook commands in a demonic voice and gives the bottle a soft push.

“Yes”, Taehyung squeaks.

“Good. Pray to my fucking name until I’m back”, Jungkook orders and stands up to leave Taehyung fucked and used up on the rug.

He is stumbling and panting, using furniture and walls to support himself. Humanity has to return to him. Jungkook is fighting the voices on his way outside.

Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut and does what Jungkook asked him to do. He starts praying. Praying to Jungkook’s name as if his life depended on it. The bottle in his ass is cold and therefore hurts. Jungkook shoved it so far up his ass that it is impossible to push it out. Not that he wants to push it out. It isn’t Jungkook’s cock though. Taehyung begins trembling as he begins missing him.

As if he sensed his boyfriend’s longing, Jungkook returns. He kneels down behind Taehyung and touches his lower back.

“You kept it inside. Good job”, he praises and pulls the bottle outside.

Taehyung hole makes a slutty sound and stays gaping. Part of his insides is showing itself to Jungkook. The latter traces it with his fingers, forcing whimpers out of Taehyung.

“I love when you gape”, Jungkook says and touches his thick rim with the tip of a buttplug.

Taehyung tenses up, arching into the toy. He knows what it is. He can’t wait for it.

Jungkook stops teasing and pushes. His gaped hole takes the toy easily, closing snug around it. It is a huge toy, but it is the only toy which could possibly fit right now. Jungkook shifts it from side to side until he is happy with its placement, then dances his hand to Taehyung’s inner thigh.

“There we go, now you’ll stay my property until I set you free”, he says and flips Taehyung with a push to his thigh.

Taehyung rolls over happily, looking up at Jungkook with glassy, devoted eyes. The latter continues caressing his inner thighs studying his cum covered cock and messy stomach. His vampiric face looks back at Taehyung. Black blood covers his chin, neck and parts of his chest.

“This wasn’t the last time I pump into you”, Jungkook says, “got it? The night’s still young and the estate’s empty for another three days. You’re gonna leak my cum for a week once I’m done with you.”

Taehyung whimpers, nodding his head obediently.

“Good that you understand.”

Taehyung lowers his eyes.

“You’re a bully.”

“You get off on it.”

Taehyung glances at him. Jungkook’s hard expression softens. Humanity returns to his eyes.

“How are you doing?” he asks him, massaging his waist gently.

“Ruined. I feel used up.”

“You are. I used you up”, Jungkook says and climbs over Taehyung. He takes the latter’s hands and pins them above his head, looking down at him with warm eyes, “but I own you, so I can do whatever I want with you.”

“You fed from me.”

“You always say that I can.”

“You can”, Taehyung blinks tears away, “I feel your acid fight my healing.”

“Is it unbearable? I’ll suck it outta you.”

“It’s not. It’s proof.”

“Proof?”

“Proof that I’m yours. That I’m your possession”, he spills tears, “that you want me.”

“Tae”, Jungkook returns. The loving, soft-spoken Jungkook returns. He cradles Taehyung’s cheeks and wipes his tears. He kisses his trembling lips and kisses his closed lids until his lips taste nothing but salty tears, “Tae, of course I want you. Tae, come on. Of course I do.”

“I know”, Taehyung whispers and smiles, “I just need to know for myself. I was so scared that you would forget me.”

“You were?”

Their eyes meet, racing between each other as Jungkook keeps caressing his cheeks and Taehyung holds his waist. He is sitting on Taehyung’s stomach, putting weight on it.

Taehyung nods his head, “I’ve analysed every photograph you sent me. I’ve memorized every face which wasn’t yours. They all look like your type.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “you are my type. Our poly family is my type. Not them. They’re just people who like the same sport as me. You were never in danger.”

“I wasn’t?”

“Of course not. Why do you think I came here a week earlier than planned?”

“Because you wanted your bed back?”

“No silly, because I missed you”, Jungkook says, pinching his cheek softly.

“Really?” Taehyung breathes.

“Of course. God Tae, I could never forget you my silly boy”, Jungkook says and begins peppering his face with kisses.

“Really?”

“Of course, my baby. Have you looked at yourself?”

Taehyung lowers his eyes shyly, “I don’t know.”

Jungkook sits up and clicks his tongue in distaste, looking down at Taehyung with a disapproving gleam in his eyes, “good, now I know where I’m fucking you next.”

Taehyung gawks up at him with parted lips and bated breath.

“In front of the mirror so I can show you all the things I love about you.”

“Oh”, Taehyung lets out and giggles.

Jungkook scrunches his nose, chuckling fondly. He pinches Taehyung’s cheek, leaning down to kiss it afterwards.

“You’re cute. I love you, my teddybear.”

“I love you too, my snugglebunny.”

The two vampires exchange a giddy look before Jungkook can’t take it anymore. He climbs off of Taehyung for the sole reason of picking him up bridal style.

“Where are we going?” Taehyung gasps, pressing himself closer instinctively.

“In front of the mirror. We’re continuing. I promise to be gentle this time around.”

“Already?”

“Got a problem with that?”

“No”, Taehyung giggles and leans his head onto Jungkook’s shoulder, “no, I don’t.”

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thenewblackcanvas · 6 months

Text

Torn Patience | cjh

jongho x reader 18+ only, minor dni warnings: non-con, mention of stalking, mild somnophilia, yandere behavior, dacryphilia, fingering, masturbation, bit of rough grabbing

a/n: not the most intense thing on this platform by any means but one of the more dark things I've written. I left out a lot in trying to make it too dark for a short drabble but it still could be triggering so read the warnings PLEASE

“I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! I’m going crazy. It’s because I love you.”

You flinched. Everything had escalated so quickly.

10 minutes ago, he was kissing you so deeply it made your head spin but after a simple rejection he was now a madman.

“Jongho I-”

“No! No you’re done talking. Do you understand how long I’ve waited to breathe your air? Touch your skin?”

He’s quiet, staring incredulously but you stay silent knowing he doesn’t really want an answer from you. He slowly knelt down. “I’m sorry. I am so so sorry but you don’t have a choice anymore.”

Before his words can settle in your mind for reaction, his hands are grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder. You yelp grab at the back of his shirt.

He expertly navigates to your bedroom. Passing your closed office door and the bathroom straight in to throw you on the bed. “How did-”

He leans down, getting in your face and caging you in place with fist on the mattress on either side of you. “Baby, didn’t I say I waited so long? In that time I had to do something.”

He leans down grazing your neck. You were sure he sniffed you but you were too confused and frightened to care about the smallest of his transgressions. He stood up suddenly, backing up with his normal smile. It was adorable as he chuckled. If it wasn’t for the things he was saying you would think he just played a horrible prank on you. “In that time, I had to keep myself sane. My brothers told me to “ease up” “give this one space”. Hwa hyung always says “Patience is a virtue” but he’s never been in love like this.” At those words his smile fades, his eyes are dark and lidded. “I familiarized myself with your home. Our home. Left traces of me everywhere and took things of yours you wouldn’t miss until I could move in and return them.”

“You l-left things?”

“Of course. I couldn’t have you feeling lonely.

You looked down as your eyes widened, thinking about all the times you smelled wiffs of an unfamiliar scent in your house.

He grows excited. “Did you notice? I knew it! I knew you would appreciate it!”

“What did you do?”

He doesn’t even realize your disgust. “I would wash my face with your products, or lay in your bed when your were working overtime. I perfected the way you made your bed before I got in. Couldn’t mess up your routine. I even thought about you in the shower. Never turned it on though, I coudn’t be too reckless.” he laughed despite the other reckless things he just named. “Did you ever notice?”

The thought always worked him up. Knowing that you could see his cum on the walls of the shower or by the drain. But no, you never did. He knew you mindlessly wandered to the shower not even bothering to look as you reached in to turn it on before stripping. His gifts were washed away before you even appreciated them. But he never minded too much. He knew when the day finally came he would give you a better gift.

“No? Don’t worry, we shared some of those moments together.” he brushed hair way from your face.

Your head snapped up. “What do you mean by that?”

“I had you share moments with me.” The hand that moved the hair begins to stroke your head gently. “A few times I needed to feel closer to you.”

“Jongho-”

“I just pulled the covers back.”

“Jongho stop-”

“You were so pretty. So delicate laying there waiting for me.”

You plugged your ears.

“I gave you everything I had, usually on your sheets but you can’t blame me for loosing control. But only once, I wiped you clean after.”

“You-You-” You pulled back, cradling and covering yourself.

Quickly, he caught on to your assumption. “_____, not that! I wouldn’t!”

Your eyes bulged. “Not that?? You’ve admitted to breaking and entering, stalking, stealing, and god knows what else your cryptic words mean.”

He sighed, hand fisting the fabric of his shirt over his stomach to keep himself grounded. “I told you I love you and that I have been waiting! I wanted to see your face, I want you fully awake for our first time. Isn’t that more special?”

You ignored his creepy question. “You said we shared a moment.”

“If I’m going to pleasure myself I want to share that with you whenever possible. I restrained myself everytime from waking you up on my cock but fuck-” His hand travels south. “If I’m stuck fucking my hand I needed to atleast be near you.”

You stayed quiet, looking on frightened and wary as he started to touch himself. “I promise I kept the best parts for us to experience together. You can’t blame me for needing you.”

He started to breath harder. His knee propped up on the bed and you scooted back as his hand slipped into his waist band now. “It was only looking at first but then I-I needed to touch you. Your skin was so soft.”

Flashes of your form in the dark room came to mind. How you shuddered in your sleep when he dragged his knuckles down your side. Just moments before he had been afraid to touch you, nearly cumming when he first felt the softness under his fingers. He tugged on his cock as he stared at you. A darker part of him wishing you would wake up and see him, give him an excuse to take you then. You would be happy to see him he just knew it. But instead the gentle breathing continued as he spilled onto your bed, milking his cock for everything he had. Only for you.

He wiped up a majority leaving only suspicious looking stains on the sheets. Before he cleaned his hand he touched your ass through your sleep shorts. He told himself he didn’t mean to leave a stain but of course he did. The most he could do to mark you in some way without loosing all his senses.

Your whimpers brought him back to reality. Back to you cowering on the bed, eyes glued to the outline of what was happening behind the fabric of his pants. He smiled.

“I won’t leave you out this time.” he grabbed your thighs roughly dragging you down the bed.

Feebly you protested, trying to keep your knees together. “Jongho don’t-”

His hands pried them apart with little effort. The skirt from your date pushed up to your waist from your open thighs. His eyes sparkled with delight. “Is this for me?” His fingers ran down the wet spot on your panties, pushing the fabric against your heat further. Your legs tried to close again when he brushed your sensitive clit but he was too fast. You listened to his deep chuckle as you squeezed your eyes shut. You were angry at your body for betraying you. You rationalized that it was from making out with him earlier. However you knew that wasn’t the full truth, the look of him standing over you while he pleasured himself to the thought of you was also the cause. But how could you rationize THAT?

You should be scared. You ARE scared.

So what is happening?

Too lost in your thoughts, he began to slip off your panties. You regained sanity to grab them. You shook your head as he tried to tug them down.

He looked almost bored for a moment before he moved his hand briefly only to rip them. You tried to hold the fabric but it was no use. He peeled the wet cotton away and cursed.

“Jongho-” you meekly called. He looked up to your face, tears pricking your eyes. He watched, waiting until one fell before moving to hover over you. Wiping it with the back of his finger, he brings it to his mouth. He licks obscenely before moving the digit downward. You feel it slip past your clit trying to close your legs but his legs are preventing you from doing so. Before you can try to move further, his finger is slipping into your entrance. Your mouth opens, dropping soft sounds into his ears. Half protest half moan.

“We’re finally sharing this moment. I knew it would be worth it to see your face.” The face in question wet with tears from the jumble of emotions both frightening and increasingly pleasurable.

He smiles before laying a soft kiss to side of your mouth. “I love you.”

first sentence prompt from here ♡ spooky season 2023

#Spooky Season 2023 #jongho x reader #jongho smut #jongho angst #jongho fanfic #jongho #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #kpop smut #yandere jongho #yandere ateez #yandere!jongho #yandere!ateez

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soullumii · 5 months

Text

it's a risk but babe, i need the thrill | joel miller x f!reader

part 1, part 2

summary: everything finally comes to a head

warnings: 18+!!! smut! unprotected piv, gentle smut

tags: angst, reconciliation, fluff, pining, smut (but it's light compared to the other two parts), halloween vibes (i was supposed to finish this in october, oops)

word count: 5.8k

a/n: guys. i am SO SORRY for the wait. this was so hard for me to finish i almost gave up so many times. i'm still unhappy with this but i can't make myself work on it anymore so here u go. thank you all so much for your patience, i really appreciate it. special thank you to @joelsfaveouritegirl for your support... i probably would've never finished this if it weren't for you, so thank you. <3. and thanks to all of you who kept me accountable. i hope you enjoy this fucking mess. also, this is probably the last joel fic i'll write for a while. i'm sorry. still, i hope you like this.

______________________________________________________________

There are only two seasons in Jackson, Wyoming: winter and not winter.

Where other states might have a gradual shift from warm to cold, in Wyoming, it’s like a slap to the face, quite literally. The moment you step into the evening October air, it feels as if you’ve walked into a wall of cold.

You shiver in your thick coat, and pull your scarf over your frosty nose as you meander down to the plaza.

While Jackson residents enjoy their time indoors and close to the fireplace during the colder months, they still love to celebrate outdoors, relying on their booze to keep them warm.

You don’t stop by Joel’s for a drink this time, he’s likely already in town square, dragged there by his daughter. Or… sort of daughter. He’s told you how he feels about Ellie, but the girl has her own opinions. Sure, she might deny that he’s like her dad, but she sure as hell treats him like he is.

You’re meeting them there.

The stars are already twinkling in the sky when you reach the throng of people. All of Jackson’s residents are in the plaza tonight for Halloween, dressed in homemade costumes and ones raided from the Party City in Idaho Falls. Jack-o-lanterns glow menacingly in corners and scarecrows are propped against brick walls. A few people in particularly frightening costumes prowl about, startling kids and adults alike.

Stalls line the edges of the plaza, each one providing something different. Tipsy Bison’s stall is run by Tommy, serving alcohol for the adults of the town. Seth’s stall is serving pork and brisket sandwiches. There’s a few stalls down the road advertising pumpkins and pastries, and you get a whiff of apple cider. Barrels of fire are scattered about to provide warmth. Lights are strung from the roofs of buildings, spread across the road, like clothes on a clothesline.

It’s incredibly cozy, and already, you feel much warmer than you did walking out of your house.

Within moments of passing Seth’s stall you hear Ellie’s voice ring out.

“She's here!”

You can’t see her weaving through the crowd but you can see Joel trailing behind, his arm trapped in front of him. He politely excuses himself and apologizes to those he bumps into as his daughter drags him through a crowd of people.

You can’t help but laugh, especially when you hear him say, “Jesus, kid, slow down.”

And then she’s in front of you, smiling and bouncing excitedly on her heels, dressed as one of the superheroes from the comics she reads. Joel is behind her wearing a black blindfold with the eyes cut out, and a felt superhero crest is stitched to the front of his black sweater. He looks very adorable. Clearly, Ellie forced him to dress up. His gaze catches yours, full of something you can’t quite grasp, a small, embarrassed smile on his lips.

“Hi,” he says, voice soft.

“Hi,” you repeat.

It’s been… well… you’re not quite sure how to describe how it’s been since you told him to stop kissing you.

It’s not like you guys have stopped seeing each other since then. Or that it’s been more awkward or anything. It just feels as if you’ve been depriving your body of what it needs, like you’re actively starving yourself.

You’d feel full while he was fucking you, and yet there was a hole in your chest, gnawing at your thoughts, a hunger so deep rooted that it’s been taking you longer to come.

Joel had noticed, too. Noticed your struggle and your frustration. He took it as something he was doing wrong, even though you insisted that wasn’t the case. Still, he took his time with you, trying to meet all your needs, and that, funnily enough, just made you feel worse.

Your meetings have grown fewer. Sometimes you would go a couple weeks without seeing each other—at least like that. Funny, how before you were so upset when he hadn’t been with you for a while. And now… now the distance is needed.

You still went out to dinner with him and Tommy and Maria. You still stopped by to say hi to Ellie and ask Joel how he’s been. Things have been normal, besides the overwhelming feeling of longing that strikes your breast the moment you see him.

You worry that it shows on your face, especially because of the dreams you’ve been having, like some lovesick teenager. Dreams that don’t involve just having sex. Dreams that frame the two of you as lovers, as parents as… growing old together.

Sometimes you’ll wake up crying, wondering if maybe you should just stop seeing him, talking to him, being around him all together. But then you’ll see him in town, or on patrols, and you know you’d never be able to stay away.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, and turn your attention to Ellie.

“Hey kiddo!” You greet, plastering a smile on. She doesn’t seem to notice your being off.

“You’re not dressed up,” she remarks, arms crossing over her chest.

“Um. Yes I am,” you gesture to your black sweater and black pants. “I’m a black cat.”

“You don’t even have ears or whiskers and a nose. That's a terrible costume.”

Joel squeezes her shoulder with a frown. “Hey, quit.”

“No, she’s fine. She’s right,” you sigh. “This was super last minute.”

“Cat is doing face painting down by the haunted house. You should let her paint some whiskers on you.”

You take a glance at Joel and he shrugs. God he looks ridiculous in that costume. Your heart constricts. You might as well be as ridiculous as him.

“That sounds great,” you say. Ellie looks like she’s about to drag you there when Dina comes running around the corner, practically slamming into her.

“Hey!” Ellie laughs, “Slow down.”

“You have to come with me. We’re going to do the haunted house, Jesse is already waiting for us. Come on,” Dina says, and pulls Ellie away before you and Joel can say a thing.

The two of you stand there for a moment, watching the kids with fond smiles before finally looking at each other.

His gaze seems to soften impossibly more when it lands on you.

“Your costume is kinda lame,” he says after a moment.

“Oh shut up.”

The paintbrush glides smoothly over your skin as Cat paints the tip of your nose black and whiskers on your cheeks. You keep sneaking glances at Joel who waits patiently for your face painting session to finish.

Once you’re done you stride over to him, grinning.

“Well?” You prompt, turning around and showing off your newly improved costume. “Not so lame anymore, huh?”

He chuckles, eyes roaming your figure. Heat simmers low in your belly at the glint in his dark eyes. “Much better.”

He pauses, eyes catching on your face. “Hey, wait.” He grabs your hand and pulls you in close. He’s warm, a nice contrast to the cool October air. You want to just snuggle up to him, wriggle your fingers up under his sweater to share his warmth.

“You got a little somethin’…” he trails off, hand coming up to press his thumb to your skin. He gently wipes off a stray black smudge from beneath your eye. It takes no less than five seconds, yet it feels like an eternity. Your chest presses into his, his hand is warm as it cups your cheek. His breath puffs against your lips, an almost kiss. And his eyes, focused so dearly on the smudge, slowly drift up to lock with yours.

“Perfect,” he mumbles, gaze never straying from yours. His hand never leaves your cheek, his thumb brushing carefully below your eye once more, a soft, subconscious caress now.

“Thanks,” you breathe.

Time feels like it’s stopped.

A kid rushes by with a delighted scream as another kid in a costume chases after him. You and Joel jolt apart, snapped back into motion.

He clears his throat and you swallow hard.

“You want somethin’ to drink?” he asks.

“Yes, please.”

***

Tommy is beaming with his own little flush of alcohol when you and Joel come across his stall.

Maria hangs by his side, but her eyes follow every action happening around you. Ever the diligent leader.

“Howdy,” Tommy says, and Maria takes the time to glance over at the two of you with a welcoming smile.

“Hey,” Joel says, and you nod your head in greeting.

“You guys lookin’ for a drink?” Tommy asks. “We’ve got spiked apple cider.”

You bounce excitedly on your toes at that. Joel laughs lightly at the way your expression brightens. “We’ll take two.”

“Comin’ right up.”

“You’ve done a great job planning for this, Maria. Everything looks amazing,” you say.

She turns to you, and to your surprise, she looks a bit bashful. “Thanks. Everyone on the council helped a lot. I’m glad we can provide something fun like this.”

“The kids really need it.”

“I think the adults do, too. It’s nice to be able to scream without it being true fear.”

“Amen to that,” Tommy pipes up and sets two mugs of steaming spiked apple cider down.

“Thanks, Tommy,” Joel says, and hands you a mug.

“There’s a haunted house down the road, you guys should go check it out. Laney and Paul spent a long time on it,” Maria says.

“We will, thanks. See you guys around!”

You wave goodbye to them and make your way through the plaza. Joel’s hand finds the small of your back, warm and steady. You’re glad for it, as scarers prowl along the streets, jumping out randomly and thrusting their hands in your face.

The haunted house lingers at the edge of the road like a ghost. Party City decorations blot the yard: gravestones, plastic skeletons, witches with rotted cloaks. It’s like everything they could manage to carry was dumped here.

A line curves outside the door, kids bouncing on their feet as they await their turns. You feel a little ridiculous joining them, being your age, but Joel probably feels even more ridiculous so you push the thought from your mind.

“I’m actually kind of nervous,” you tell him as screams ring out from within the house.

“This thing ain’t nearly as terrifyin’ as the real world,” Joel says.

“Yeah, but still. I’ve never been a fan of being scared.”

Joel takes a sip of his spiked apple cider and shrugs. “I’ll protect ya.”

“My hero,” you coo and run your hand over the superhero crest stitched to his chest. He smiles.

Soon enough you’re at the door.

“You go first,” you tell Joel, and shove him in front of you, but you don’t let go of him.

"Good to know you're not afraid to throw me to the wolves."

"Your sacrifice will not be in vain."

He rolls his eyes but lets you fist one of your hands in his sweater and hold onto his arm with the other. You peer around him as the two of you venture inside.

A radio plays spooky sounds from all directions as you trail behind Joel through the house. Your eyes flit across every crevice, searching for who is going to scare you. Still, you don’t notice everything.

From seemingly nowhere, someone pops out in a Michael Meyers mask with a fake knife. You screech and hold tight to Joel. He hardly even flinches.

“How are you so chill?” you ask with a pout once you’ve recovered. Red lights flash in the hallway. Your voice is shaking. God, you’re a wimp.

“Because I’ve got someone I need to protect. I can’t act all scared, now, can I?”

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s just making shit up. He’s not scared at all.

You get closer and closer to him as the house progresses. Your hands are now interlinked, your cheek pressed against the warm muscle of his shoulder blades. You’re practically on top of him, trying to stay as close as possible.

Even with Joel acting so nonchalant, you’re scared. You get jump scared a few more times as you continue, thankful that your hands are preoccupied with holding onto Joel else you might’ve punched one of the scarers.

Eventually you make it to the end in one piece, your heart racing. You know it’s ridiculous—Ellie probably got through this with a straight face. Still, it’s kind of fun, being scared. You’re giggling into Joel’s sweater by the end of it, and he’s tucked you into his side, hand still interlocked with yours as you meander back to the plaza.

Warmth blossoms in your chest. Is this what it would be like if you were truly together? You feel the urge to push up on your toes to kiss him, but you shove it down. Guilt tugs at the back of your mind at the thought.

“You’re such a scaredy cat, I guess that costume is fittin’,” he muses, rubbing warmth into your waist.

“Sorry we can’t all be macho men like you."

You go to pull away, to create some distance. You can’t keep getting close to him like this. It weighs too heavily on your heart. But Joel squeezes your hand and tugs you back into his side, and you’re so very weak. You melt into him despite yourself.

“I think you rather like my macho-ness,” he says.

Heat pools in your belly at the smirk on his face, the darkness in his eyes. You avert your gaze with a small smile, warmth coloring your cheeks. “Yeah right.”

He turns toward you, towering over you. His hand splays heavily on your hip, and you shudder. “Playin’ coy now, huh? Where was this yesterday when—“

“Joel!” Ellie screeches, skidding to a stop in front of the two of you. You feel the urge to jerk away, but Joel only shifts so that he’s no longer in your face. He still keeps you close.

“What’s up kiddo?”

“There’s a campfire, everyone’s asking us to play a song.”

That piques your interest. Joel has played guitar for you a couple times, though he’s always very shy about it. You’ve stumbled across him playing on his own with no one to watch. It’s fascinating what the music does to him.

It’s like he’s transported somewhere else, his eyes closed as his fingers pluck the strings of his guitar, his foot tapping to the beat, his head nodding along as his hands tell a story through the notes.

You’ve never seen him play a whole song like that, he’s always noticed you before he could ever finish. And when you’d ask him to keep playing, there was a bit of stiltedness. You realized it was nervousness… he wanted you to be impressed, to like what he was doing.

You’re not sure how you ever could dislike his playing.

“You should do it,” you say.

Joel’s hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. “I dunno—“

“What, you’re not scared, are you?” you tease.

“Don't talk to me about being scared. Pretty sure you stretched out my sweater with how hard you were holding onto me,” he counters.

“Will you two stop bickering like a married couple? Joel, they’re waiting. Come on!” Ellie says and grabs his hand, tugging him along. You laugh as you follow, though her little comment sticks in your mind.

***

Joel settles down on a log with his guitar in his lap. Ellie sits at his side. You got a spot a couple logs away, so you could get a good view of them. The campfire lights his silver hair copper, reflecting like stars off the wood of his guitar.

“Any fans of Bread here?” he asks, and a few hoots and hollers sound out. Joel laughs at that, and Ellie rolls her eyes. You've never heard of the band, but you wait with bated breath. They tune their guitars, and then Joel takes a deep breath and counts down.

One, two, three, four…

Soft strumming fills the air. Ellie keeps the main melody, but Joel plucks more of the details. He sings first.

Baby I’m-a want you

Baby I’m-a need you

You’re the only one I care enough to hurt about

His voice is smooth, a bit shaky from the nerves, but it washes over you like a warm wave of water. Immediately, you’re drawn in. It’s unrealistic, but you still think that Joel could save the world with his voice. It’s scratchy but soft, if one can be both of those things at the same time.

He looks up through his lashes, his gaze catching yours.

Maybe I’m-a crazy, but I just can’t live without

your lovin’ and affection… givin’ me direction

Like a guiding light to help me through my darkest hours

Lately I’m-a prayin’ that you’ll always be-a stayin’

Beside me…

Your breath catches in your throat while he sings.

It’s just a song, you tell yourself. But the way he’s looking at you… it’s as if everyone else has disappeared. As if the words were created specifically for you. As if… as if maybe he chose this song for a reason…

Ellie picks up the prechorus with her angelic voice, and you’re brought back into the present. But then Joel starts the solo, his eyelids fluttering shut as the music takes over him. His head nods along to notes as he plucks each one out with precision and skill. His foot taps in time with the beat, and people cheer, but you can’t stop staring.

The solo ends all too soon, but Joel’s voice merges beautifully with Ellie’s harmonies back on the prechorus once more.

Lately I’m-a prayin’ that you’ll always be a stayin’

Beside me…

Used to be my life was just emotions passin’ by.

Then you came along and made me laugh and made me cry

He gives you a small grin, secret, for no one else but you.

You taught me why…

Baby I’m-a want you.

Baby I’m-a need you.

Oh, it took so long to find you baby

Baby I’m-a want you.

Baby I’m-a need you.

Your chest constricts at the sight of him, at the sound of the last few notes being plucked expertly by his fingers. At the blend of his voice with Ellie’s. You can't bear to sit here at this campfire, watching him only as a friend, a fellow neighbor, just like everyone else. You want him to sing this song for you. To know that it’s only you he’s thinking of as the last few strings are plucked by his nimble fingers, ringing out into the dark, cold night. That it’s only you he sees clapping and cheering him on. But you can’t even grant him that, already on your feet the moment the song ends, practically sprinting away from the campfire as your throat grows tight and tears spring to your eyes.

You hope no one has noticed. You hope the footsteps you can hear crunching on crimson leaves are just someone walking past. Of course they’re not though.

“Are you okay?” the familiar timbre of Joel’s voice asks.

God, no! Why!

You frantically wipe the tears from your eyes, sniffling snot so it doesn’t drip down your lip and betray you.

“Oh,” you start, and internally curse the way your voice shakes. You turn toward the one who has been unraveling you at the seams with a trembling smile. “Hi, Joel.”

“Christ, what’s wrong, baby?”

“Don’t—don’t call me baby,” you say, and it’s not at all what you mean to say. You mean to just reassure, to just brush this off and bury it deep inside and never let it out. But you don’t.

Joel’s face hardens, and he steps in closer with a hand stretched out but at the look on your face, thinks better of touching you.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he says. “Why are you crying? What happened?”

Nothing. It was just a pretty song.

Was it for me?

Nothing. I’m just being hormonal.

Do those lyrics mean something to you?

Nothing.

Enough. Enough with the excuses and the rules and the lies.

“You happened,” you spit.

He takes a surprised step back. “What?”

“You and your stupid fucking—your stupid fucking friends with benefits and your stupid fucking big heart and your stupid fucking guitar happened, Joel.”

This is probably the first time you’ve ever rendered Joel speechless outside of sex. He looks so stupid standing there staring at you with his wide eyes and his dropped jaw. And yet all you want to do his pull him in and hug him and tell him how much you love his stupid fucking face. Instead, you take a step back.

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” he mutters. “You’re freezin’. Let’s head back to my place, we can talk about it there—“

“No. No. I won’t let you just fuck me and then pretend like whatever’s between us doesn’t exist.”

“That’s not—“ he starts, but then must register what you said because his brows furrow over his ice cold gaze. “Me? I pretend like it doesn’t exist?”

“Yes!”

“No I don’t. You’re the one that told me you didn’t want me to kiss you anymore. You’re the one that’s been keepin’ me at arm's length all this time. You’re the one pretending.”

You go to yell back at him, to deny, but the realization that he’s right kills the words in your throat, and you fall silent.

Joel steps closer, his voice dropping. “You can act like I’m the one that’s been torturing you as much as you like, but it just ain’t true.”

His eyes flit across your face wildly, taking in the tears in your eyes, the tremble of your lips, the tint of your cheeks from the cold. He softens.

“Darlin' I... I have been in love with you since the first time I heard you laugh. Since the first time you even glanced my way. Every god damn day is torture wanting all of you when all I can have is some of you.”

You can’t speak, can hardly even breathe.

“If you don’t want to make this anythin’ other than sex, just tell me,” he whispers, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw. His breath condenses into steam in the cold air. “Tell me you want to keep pretending, and we can keep pretending."

“I…I don’t.” You shake your head. “I don’t want to keep pretending.”

His nose brushes yours, his breath warm against your lips. “Tell me you don’t want more.”

You swallow harshly. “I want more.”

“Tell me you’re sorry you made me stop kissing you.”

“Please, kiss me, Joel.”

“You’re not very good at followin’ directions, are you?” he says, grinning, and you can’t help but laugh into the kiss when he pulls you in.

His lips are soft, deliberate when they meet yours. He coaxes you open, makes you slow down, pulls you into it so you feel it entirely. Reminds you of what you were missing when you forbade him from kissing you.

God, you missed it so much. Missed him.

Joel’s arms wind around your waist, his hands sliding along the fabric of your coat, and it’s so cold but god you wish you had less layers on right now. You’re sure the warmth of his hands could keep you from hypothermia.

“I’m sorry I forbade you from kissing me,” you say.

He hums, “I guess I can forgive you. Might need some convincing.”

“Oh shut up,” you grin, and pull him back in again.

“I hate pretending like I don’t love you,” he murmurs against your lips, hands gripping your waist.

“You… really love me?”

“Did you not hear my speech earlier?”

“I did. I just… can’t really believe it.”

He pulls you in close and gently grasps your jaw with his large hands. He kisses you again, thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

His lips find the corner of your mouth. “I love you,” he says.

A kiss to your cheek. “I love you.”

A kiss to your eyelid. “I love you.”

When he pulls back, he’s smiling again. It’s strange to see Joel smile. He really doesn’t do it often around anyone. But you guess you’re an exception.

All that time you had spent pushing him away, agonizing over how much you loved him, fearing that he’d leave you if you so much had hinted that you were in love with him, only for him to be in love with you all this time? Holy shit. The world feels like it’s turned upside down.

“Okay, I think I believe you now,” you say in a laugh.

“You haven’t said it back, which I guess is alright—“

“I love you too, Joel,” you interrupt.

He softens again. “I love you,” he murmurs, and pulls you in again for another toe curling kiss. God, you were an idiot for making him stop.

He wipes the tears from your eyes with a calloused thumb. “Your face paint is smudgin’.”

“It was a stupid costume anyway.”

“No, it's cute. But…” Joel glances about, lips quirking in a smirk. He leans down, and his voice is so low you almost don’t hear it. “I think it would look better on my floor.”

“Well…” you fight the grin on your face, delighting in the heat curling low within you. “I guess since you love me and we’re kissing again and aren’t exactly friends anymore… we could really put that statement to the test.”

“I think we should,” he says, and leans down to kiss your neck.

You hum in approval. “What about Ellie?”

“She had plans to go to Dina’s after the festival,” he says, between kisses. “Come over, please? Or do I need to send you a letter with a wax stamp and everythin’?”

“Well… since you said please, I guess that will do.”

The whole walk to his place he has his arm slung about your waist, proudly displaying that you’re his.

You nuzzle yourself into his side, grateful for his warmth and companionship. Your heart feels so full, so light, as if you might actually drift up into the air. Thank god Joel is holding you to keep you grounded.

You smile at Maria and Tommy when you pass by them, and they exchange a look that says something like Finally.

Then you’re at his house, and he’s unlocking the door and letting you go in first. And this time when you’re welcomed inside, you’re no longer worrying about rules or how you feel, or how you might fuck this up. It’s so fucking freeing.

Joel doesn’t ravish you the moment the door closes. Instead, he kind of just stares at you.

You squirm under his attention, growing self conscious. “What?”

He smiles, hands gravitating to your hips. “Nothin’. I just love you.”

You grin. “I love you too.”

He kisses you again, and you don’t think you could ever get enough of it. You kisses you roughly against the door, hips colliding with yours, over and over, and soon enough you’re shaking with want. Mind muddled, whispering a single word into his ear, “Bedroom.”

It feels different here this time. All those times in the past had felt restrained, now, everything feels exactly as it should.

When before you used to strip down quickly just to get him inside you, this time, you both take your time. He carefully unwraps you like a present as he noses kisses down your throat. He peels your thick black sweater off, and slides the straps of your bra down your shoulders, his dark eyes locked with yours. Joel reaches behind you and undoes the clasp with ease. You can hardly hold back your shaky sigh.

Your hands smooth over his sweater-clad chest before pulling it up and over his head. That jagged scar is there on his stomach, a reminder of everything he’s been through. You run your hand along it, and he shudders.

“Sit down,” he says.

You sit on the edge of the bed, and he kneels before you. Then, he grabs your boot-clad foot and sets it on his thigh. He undoes the laces and carefully takes the boot off. He does the other, and then hooks his fingers around your waistband and pulls it and your panties off together.

“I was right,” he says. “It really does look better on my floor.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, and pull him back into you. His lips catch yours gently, but the kiss intensifies when your mouth parts eagerly as his tongue swipes across the seam of your lips. His tongue slips in, and a moan tumbles out of you as your hands scrabble at his shoulder blades, your nails lightly scratching over thin scars.

His nose squishes against your cheek, and his large, hot hands slide up and down your body, like he just can’t keep them still. Like he wants to catalog all of you right now, remember it forever.

He rocks against you, still confined in his jeans, but you can feel the hard shape of him brushing against your sensitive core, the friction incredibly delicious. Your hands find his button and zipper, undoing them both with as much concentration as you can muster, though it’s really difficult when he’s kissing you like you contain all of the world’s oxygen.

Finally, he allows you to breathe, his beard scraping against the sensitive skin of your throat as he mouths hot kisses down your skin. He grips one of your thighs, setting it against his hip, large, rough fingers splaying across the whole of it. God, you love how easily you fit in his palms.

He grinds his hips into you over and over and you moan, aching for the feel of him inside you. You tug at his waistband again. “Joel, please take these off already.”

“Not yet,” he says, and releases your leg, his hand skating across the skin of your thigh, brushing gently along, making you shudder in his hold. You can feel the warmth of his fingers as he nears where you want him most.

And then, his fingers are on you, swirling in gentle circles, unraveling you at the seams. Your head hits the mattress and your back arches. He knows exactly what to do to make you putty in his hands, has had so much time to practice. But this time, it feels so much better, knowing now that he loves you. That you’re more than just friends.

Your palms find his face and you pull him in for a slow, meaningful kiss, trying to tell him just how thankful you are for him. How glad you are that he loves you. How sorry you are for not letting him kiss you. It’s kind of hard to kiss him, though, when he’s making you feel this good. Your fingers curl into his hair, tugging at it, and he moans into your mouth.

He slips one, two fingers inside you, pumping them at a steady pace that has your hands gripping his hair tightly and your hips scrabbling for that pleasant release dangling in front of you. He urges you on with encouraging, quiet words, his dark eyes boring into yours. Your mind, body, and soul feel hot.

When his thumb finds your clit it’s only moments until you’re shattering against him, warmth flooding your body. Your hips jerk, your legs shaking as he takes you over the edge.

“Pants off. Now,” you huff between breaths, and he finally listens.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Then, he shifts you up the bed… it reminds you of the first time the two of you had sex again after he was so busy. So much the same yet so different. His hand moves up your body, cups one of your breasts, kneading it gently. When his thumb ghosts over your nipple, you shiver.

“You’re so beautiful, darlin’,” he murmurs, and grasps your knee, pulling it over his hip.

And then he’s sliding in, and the stretch is blissful, so welcome, so familiar and yet so new. You hold onto him, keeping him close as he begins to move. You feel full, mind faraway with bliss.

“God, Joel-“ you hiss.

He groans out your name, and it rumbles through you like rolling thunder. Lightning lights a fuse at the end of your spine.

You’re out of control. He tends to do that to you. Make you angry, make you sad, draw all the emotions you tend to not want to deal with out of you. Frustrates you, makes you so hungry with want that you throw all semblance of rational thought away. And he likes it. You like it.

God, you love him so much.

You move together as one, pushing and pulling. Everything shrinks down to just this. Him. You. Where your bodies meet.

“More,” you moan, and he huffs out a laugh, but obliges, thrusting into you deeper, harder, and you’re as tight as a bowstring.

Every anxious thought, every worry, every single doubt dissipates with every movement of his hips. You shift your own to meet his thrusts, and soon he’s gasping into your skin, growling your name. His hand winds into your hair, and he breathes with you, eyes locked with yours.

“Come on, baby,” he murmurs. “Come for me.”

Well, who are you to deny him? He pushes you over the edge in an instant, your body going taught, eyes rolling back into your head. His name flows out of you like a mantra.

Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel.

“I love you,” he says into your throat when he follows you, hips jerking with sloppy thrusts as he comes inside you.

Joel collapses next to you, pulling you into him, his arm slung heavily across your waist. When you can finally catch your breath, you say, “I love you, too.”

His grin is sated, eyes heavy when he pulls you in for another deep kiss. “We’ve said that a lot, huh?”

“Just making up for lost time. I think it’s alright.”

“I should’ve said it a lot sooner,” he says, calloused fingers brushing against your cheek as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Me too. Telling you not to kiss me was really dumb.”

“Probably not the smartest thing you’ve said.”

You scoff in mock offense, pushing at his shoulder. “Asshole.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

You roll your eyes, but scoot further into him, laying your head on his chest.

It might have been a risk to fall in love with your best friend, but God, you’re glad you did.

“Yeah, I really do.”

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