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#and he has to smile for your sake and his bc this is what he wanted isn’t it; for you to be happy
pathologicalreid · 1 day
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gemini | S.R.
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two emotionally wrought people collide at a wedding, and a sexual escapade ensues.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, use of the term "good girl" (i couldn't help myself), unprotected sex, reader on bc, alcohol, spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, lowkey idiots in love, fucking against a wall?, fingering, heavy petting, r has an oral fixation, r is wearing a dress and makeup, explicit consent (hot), public sex, i think that's all word count: 3.42k a/n: this is a little self-indulgent and i don't care! based on literally just the first line of the song gemini by del water gap. probably not ever gonna get a part two. i've never done angsty smut (smangst?) before, so this was fun.
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so, here's the setting, we met fucked up at a wedding
Swirling the drink you held in your hand, you watched your friends as they chatted. The pink liquid in the cup, concocted by Penelope Garcia, was far too sweet for your taste, but you needed the liquid courage to make it through the wedding.
It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for Krystall and Dave. It was that weddings oftentimes left a bitter taste in your mouth – one so bitter that not even Penelope’s drink could offset it.
In your periphery, you saw a blur of purple in the corner, looking up to see Spencer. His hand still bandaged from his most recent brush with death, he used his free one to grip a glass of water. Raising your eyebrows, you gave him your best attempt at a smile before you greeted him, “You look good, Dr. Reid.”
He was fully donned in his favorite color, and you tried to pretend that you didn’t notice that your dress matched the purple hue of his suit. “Thanks,” he said shortly, not quite meeting your eyes.
Noting the way he was looking past you, you demurely leaned your head down, glancing over your shoulder so that you could see what he was looking at, only to see JJ. She looked gorgeous in her red dress, laughing at something her husband said before her eyes caught something.
She was staring back at Spencer, and not for the first time, you found yourself wondering what happened in that pawn shop. Bringing your eyes back up to Reid, you watched the confused look in his eyes bloom as he peeled his eyes away from JJ.
Sick of it, you spoke up, “Alright, I had dibs on being the mopey one tonight. What’s wrong?” You had wanted to brush it off as long-lasting nerves from the hostage situation, but he was acting strange.
You knew you weren’t his best friend, that was a title that JJ had been the reigning champion of since the beginning of time. Yet, you still noticed the rigidity in Spencer’s shoulders as he displayed a clear discomfort with his surroundings. You tried to think of something to say to him. How could you ask him if he wanted to get out of here without it sounding like a sexual proposition?
“JJ told me she loved me,” he said, his voice so low you weren’t even sure you had heard him correctly.
Your head snapped up, “Oh.” Swallowing thickly, you tilted your head curiously, letting loose hair tumble to the side. “Do you love her?” Likely not the right conversation for the wedding of everyone’s favorite right-person-wrong-time couple, but you were desperate for a rope to pull yourself out of your wallowing.
He took a sip of his water before setting the empty glass on the bar counter, “I did.” The admission hit you like a ton of bricks, until her continued, “but now…”
Filling in the blanks, you shrugged, “She’s married. They have kids.” Spencer was always doing the right thing, so pushing his feelings aside for the sake of JJ’s family made the most sense.
Furrowing his brows, he pondered this for a moment before speaking, “It’s not just that. I have feelings for someone else.”
“Oh,” you repeated, and somehow the thought of him being in love with an unfamiliar figure hurt more than him being in love with your mutual friend.
The both of you let the conversation lag, watching as Penelope came back up to the bar and poured more drinks. After she accused you of being boring for not wanting another drink, everyone returned to the tables. “Have you dated anyone since him?”
You choked on your newly acquired water, cupping your hand underneath your jaw in an attempt to stop water from getting on your dress. “Uh, no. I’ve kind of sworn off dating ever since,” you replied, shaking your hand out and letting water droplets fall to the floor.
Sighing, you slouched in your seat, remembering that all you’d ever be was a jaded bride. Left by your fiancé on the day of your wedding, doomed to never love again. Until you met Spencer Reid.
“For everyone?” Spencer asked, and you cursed his natural curiosity.
His question caught you off guard. Despite yourself, you shook your head, “I have like… one person who, if they asked me, I’d say yes.” Your skin started to feel warm, and you weren’t sure if it was your proximity to him or Penelope’s drink coming back with a vengeance.
Spencer stepped a little closer to you, leaning casually on the counter as if he wasn’t affecting your ability to focus. “Who’s your person?” The question was innocent enough that it made your heart ache.
“It doesn’t matter, he’s into someone else,” you told him, reaching behind your neck to pull your hair up, haphazardly twisting it. You didn’t have a hair tie, so you let the locks fall once you felt some semblance of relief.
This statement seemingly bothered Spencer because he looked into his glass, “Did he tell you that?”
Nodding, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Yeah,” maybe not in so many words, Spencer was rarely crass enough to say he was into someone, but you understood well enough.
The conversation lagged between the two of you once again, your own private thoughts were only interrupted when the music changed. It was a slow song, one for the couples of the night to dance to.
You took a chance, “Do you want to go explore the building with me? It’s getting stuffy in here,” you said, taking one final swig of your water before jumping up from your stool.
He looked back at JJ, who was there with Will, and then forward to the girl who was asking to take him away, “Yes.”
David Rossi had spared no expense for his second wedding to his third wife, and the manor that you found yourself meandering within felt never-ending. Something about following Spencer as he led the way and told you facts about the history of the building felt so normal, and you wondered if it would hurt when the night was over. Maybe this would just end as another memory to loathe about weddings.
Trailing him into another room, you stumbled into his back. Quickly, Spencer spun back and caught you before you could fall to the ground.
Steadying yourself, your heart thrummed at the way he was touching you, tightly holding your waist so that you wouldn’t trip. Once you were no longer wobbling, Spencer reached up and gingerly lifted the fallen spaghetti strap of your dress back over your shoulder. Before you had fully thought out your actions, you leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him.
It was hesitant and gentle, but once you registered that you were kissing him you soon realized that he was kissing you back. What started out as a small peck on the lips quickly morphed into full, open-mouthed kisses.
You thought Spencer might eat you alive, and for a moment, you thought you might let him.
Without separating your lips, he herded you over to the wall, pinning your hips to the wall as you felt heat grow between your legs.
Pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth, Spencer pulled away ever so slightly, your faces just inches apart. “Is this okay?” He asked you, his eyes flickering down to your lips like he was holding himself back from kissing you again.
There was fear. A fear that if you moved forward tonight, nothing would ever be the same, but you took a chance  and nodded quickly, “Yes.”
Your answer acted as a release as Spencer dropped his head back down and the two of you reattached your lips. Despite your attempts to ignore it, you felt his hardened length pressing into you through several layers of clothes.
Twisting your head away, you gasped as Spencer took the opportunity to place his lips on your neck, gently suckling on the tender skin as you tried to catch your breath. “Are you sure about this?” You breathed, running your hands underneath his suit jacket, wanting nothing more than to push it off of him.
“Yes,” he answered, giving you the same consent that you had already given him, and it was enough for you to reach for his belt buckle. No matter how badly you wanted to see him entirely bare in front of you, this just wasn’t the place for it.
Gently, you slid your hand down his front, savoring the way his breath hitched against your neck as your fingertips precariously lifted the waistband of his boxers. He gently nipped at your earlobe as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock.
You let your head fall backward, allowing him better access to your neck as you moved your hand. Moving your hand up so that you could swipe your thumb over the tip.
You dragged your other hand down, pulling his boxers down so that you could get a good look at what you were working with, and biting your lip at the sight of it. Slowly, you started to pump his impressive length, noting how his breathing patterns changed with your movements.
Dragging a knuckle up the underside of him, he dropped his head to your shoulder as you collected his pre-cum on your index finger on your way up, bringing your hand up to your mouth and licking the droplet off, peering up at him.
“You’re so good at that, baby,” he told you, sighing as he reached up and placed his hand on the side of your neck, skimming his thumb over your jawline as his free hand started to make its way up your dress, pausing when he only met bare skin. “No underwear?” He questioned, furrowing his brow at you as you bit your lip, trying to refrain from pressing into his hand.
Whimpering almost indiscriminately, you shook your head, “Couldn’t, panty lines would show under the dress.”
Spencer hummed in recognition, moving his hand up to cup your sex so that you could feel your own wetness on his hand. A pathetic whine escaped your throat as your walls clenched with need, still stopping yourself from grinding on his hand. “What do you need?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, “Come on, you can tell me.”
“You, please,” you answered, your voice dangerously bordering on pleading. “Your hands, anything,” you squeaked out, breathing heavily as you awaited his next move.
Gently, he slipped a finger inside your wet hole, causing you to release a satisfied sigh. “You’re so wet,” he whispered in your ear as you tilted your head back and pressed your lips to his.
As his hand picked up in pace, so did your breathing. With each movement of his hand, you struggled to keep your volume at a respectable level, small whimpers continued escaping you even as you bit down on the inside of your lip. “Spence,” you whined, moaning aloud as he slipped a second finger into you, “Oh, god.”
The silence of the room around you only exacerbated the wet sounds that were emanating from your sex, and if it didn’t feel so good, you might’ve been embarrassed. In fact, as you felt a familiar coil winding in your abdomen, you found that you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure.
Crying out, you nodded as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck,” you said, caring less about your volume levels. Even less so when he responded by pressing the heel of his hand against your clit, the pressure proving to be enough to send you over the edge.
“It’s okay,” Spencer whispered in your ear, “Let it go for me, baby.” His words continued as you felt your walls spasming around his fingers, his ministrations had slowed, but he worked you through your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers and lifting them up to your mouth.
Accepting the invitation, you leaned forward and sucked the sweet juices off of his hand, slipping your tongue between his two fingers as you looked up at him. You half expected him to be watching you with lust-blown eyes, but he was watching you just as attentively as he had when you started this escapade.
He retrieved his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying pop and reached down to ruche the fabric of your dress up around your waist. “Wait,” he said suddenly, gripping the silky cloth, “I don’t have a condom.”
Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I don’t mind.” Still breathing heavy from your previous orgasm, you shook your head again, “I mean. I’m on birth control – and I’m good at it. I mean I keep up with it.” Now babbling, you hoped he’d say something. “I’m clean. I trust you.”
Nodding in understanding, he placed a hand on the side of your neck and looked at you intently. “I’m not going to do anything until you catch your breath,” he told you, taking up an authoritative tone.
Blinking rapidly, you evened out your breathing as he ran his hand up and down your torso, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking another deep breath as you looked up at him.
Spencer shook his head, “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned his head down, pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck as you finally pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to grip the backs of your thighs.
“It’s okay if you can’t lift me,” you rambled quickly, getting his attention as you aired your concern.
He raised his eyebrows expectantly, pressing his hips into yours and lifting your feet off of the ground. The leverage that he had, along with the support of the wall behind him, allowed him to get both of your feet off of the ground. You would’ve spent more time being impressed by this feat if you weren’t so distracted by his painfully hard cock that had now slipped between your folds.
Leaning down, you desperately kissed his lips, wanting him to give you those open-mouthed kisses that you had started out with. Instead, you cried out when, without warning, his full length slipped into you.
Placing gentle kisses on your collarbone, Spencer murmured, “Are you okay?” He whispered, seeming like he was using all of his self-control to just stay still.
You nodded, feeling his cock throbbing so deep in you that you were almost afraid you’d come from just that pressure alone. “Been a while,” you murmured, taking a deep, shaky breath.
He hummed in understanding, “I’ve got you, take your time.”
His words filled your stomach with butterflies, and it wasn’t just because he was fully sheathed in you. “Spence,” you whimpered, “Move.”
On your cue, Spencer gave a tentative thrust, permitting your resulting moan to mix with his grunt. “Fuck, baby,” he said, continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, filling the room with the crude squelching of your actions. “I’m not going to last long,” he informed you.
Throwing your head back in ecstasy, you moaned helplessly when Spencer dropped one of your legs to the ground, hooking his arm underneath your other knee, providing a new, deeper angle. You swore as the sensations started to feel overwhelming.
The new angle gave him more control over his movements, enabling him to use his free hand to pull at your breast through the fabric of your dress. As you tugged gently at his hair, you tilted your head back, “Spence, I- shit,” you cursed, recognizing the tell-tale signs of your second orgasm approaching.
If it weren’t for his words of encouragement, you would’ve been embarrassed by coming too quickly, and if anything, the words only spurred you closer to the finish line. “Come for me,” he said, thrusting harder into you as he tried to reach the same point. “Let me know how good I make you feel,” he said, continuing his thrusts until his hips stuttered.
“Coming,” you whimpered, dropping your head forward onto his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around his hard length. Crying out as he continued to pound into you, you buried your face into his neck and nipped at the skin to muffle your sounds.
Now he was solely working toward his own orgasm, having given you two of your own. “You’re such a good girl,” he panted.
Suckling gently at the skin on his neck – not hard enough to leave a mark, you littered kisses on his sensitive skin. “Come in me, baby,” you murmured, trying to spur him on.
Your success was apparent as his movements faltered and his cock started throbbing, feeling the pulses of his cum as it filled you, your eyes rolled back at the feeling while Spencer slowed to a halt, waiting for a beat before he pulled out of you entirely.
Shuddering at the emptiness you now felt, you leaned against the wall once both of your feet were on the ground. As your legs trembled, you watched as Spencer crouched to fish something out of his jacket, leaving you with your mixture of fluids running down your legs.
As he grabbed the handkerchief from his breast pocket, you gasped slightly as you realized his intentions. “Spence, you’ll ruin it,” you insisted.
“Would you rather go back out there with my cum dripping down your thighs?” He asked, knelt in front of you with his brows raised in mock innocence.
Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “Jesus.”
He chuckled, using the handkerchief to wipe up the mess the two of you had made on your legs before carelessly tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Noting the way your legs were still shaking, he lifted your chin ever so slightly, “Are you alright?”
Nodding, you offered him a tired, but genuine smile. “I’m great,” you told him, wiping underneath your eyes where you were sure there was a mess of mascara.
Taking your hand in his, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, Spencer led to toward the French doors that led to the balcony, taking you out into the fresh air.
As you leaned up against the railing, Spencer shook out his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, doing his best to keep you comfortable. “Hey,” you whispered, “I really am fine. Are you? How’s your hand?” In all of the hormones, you had forgotten about his injury.
Spencer nodded, looking over the property that Rossi had rented. “I’m good, Y/N. I feel good.” You wished he’d call you baby again, but maybe that was too much to ask for. His eyebrows furrowed.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked him, recognizing the look from years of working together.
He hummed, reaching up and sweeping a strand of hair off of your forehead. “That guy? The one who told you he’s into someone else? I can confidently say he’s an idiot.”
Flushing, you smiled to yourself at the fact that Spencer was calling himself an idiot, especially when he was anything but. Shrugging, you waved him off anyway, “Nobody’s perfect, Spence.”
“No, I suppose not, but even so…” he told you, allowing his voice to trail off like he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted to say to you. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him, then maybe you need to turn your attention elsewhere.”
Sighing, you leaned your chin in your hand, “Thanks, but I don’t know. Maybe there is better out there, and I’m just not worth it.” No, after tonight, you’d likely never get over him. It might’ve started as a workplace crush, but you felt in your heart that it was now something deeper.
Spencer shook his head, “Now, that’s where we disagree.”
“Spencer, I can’t-“ Your voice is cut off when you hear someone calling your name from inside the building, smoothing out the front of your dress one more time, you step back into the room, coming face to face with JJ.
She smiles in recognition of you, but the grin immediately fades from her face when Spencer walks out behind you, “Hey, we’ve been looking for you guys,” she said flatly. “They’re about to cut the cake.”
Nodding, you took another quick look at Spencer before following the blonde out of the room, leaving your secret in the room behind you.
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hauntingblue · 2 months
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I love how when zoro is left alone he just gets lost and drinks. Amazing. You are unwell
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joonberriess · 2 months
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t h e b o y i s m i n e
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⋆ TAGS — mean!jk, heavy degradation, sub!oc vibes, fingering, creampiess, pussy eating, oc is super sensitive hehe, cock warming in the car, ass play(?), intense cow girl moment, dirty talk, mentions of squirting(?), messy sex, oc is cunty (CUNT CUNT CUNT), RED MF FLAGS, jk ain’t shit and neither is oc, mentions of cheating, possessive!oc don’t play about her bestie, joon n oc moment bc why not, she’s lowkey a bimbo, jk likes mocking oc, nasty sex, jk’s a simp for his bestie, oc whines a lot lol, 4liferrrsssss, oc messy asf but jk is too
⋆ WORD COUNT — 6.2 k
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‘Something’s not right.’ Is what Sujin begins to think right off the bat when her boyfriend brings her to meet his “best friend”. Sujin already knew that Jungkook had a “girl” best friend wayy before she even talked to the man. All her friends were against it when she told them she was interested in Jungkook.
“No girl, you’re gonna regret it like big time. That man is going to have you looking like a fool.” They’d say but Sujin seemed hard of hearing..
Sujin knew what she was getting into but nothing could have prepared her for the hot piping mess being served in front of her face. For fucks sake her boyfriend couldn’t even fucking sit next to her because he chose to sit with “y/n”. Sujin wants to think it’s a childhood thing, maybe that’s why they’re so unnaturally close.
“Oh.” Sujin says when y/n tells her that no, they in fact met almost two years ago as college freshmans. (Sujin’s beginning to run out of ideas to make up in her head so she doesn’t go insane over the sight of you casually touching her boyfriend and Jungkook letting it happen?) Jungkook even helps separate your perilla leaf with his chopsticks.
What are you a child? Sujin’s NOT liking this so far.
“So,” Sujin smiles as politely as she can muster, “how’d you guys meet?”
You smile softly back at her, “My brother has a frat house and Jungkook happened to join, we only met cause my brother was forcing his frat guys to help me move into my new apartment. He made them do it shirtless which was pretty funny.”
Sujin nods slowly, “Ohh.. how nice. So like you guys started hanging out or what’s the deal?”
Jungkook shrugs, “I saw her manga books and we bonded over that,” he keeps it curt, like he’s not interested in talking to her (his own girlfriend), “we started chilling and yeah.” Sujin fucking hates when he talks to her like he’s bored already.
“He kept saying I reminded him of Bayonetta!” You pipe back in with a dreamy smile.
“Uh-huh, Bayonetta..” Sujin clears her throat and shifts around in her seat, “Uhh well, I think it’s getting a bit late no? Kinda time for me to get going.”
You purse your lips in a soft pout and nod at her, “I see.. I hope to see you again, you’re really nice and pretty.” You coo, “Jungkookie’s super lucky to have you,” Sujin appreciates your sincerity but she’s not so sure if she can look past how close you are with her boyfriend.
“You didn’t bring your car didn’t you?” Jungkook suddenly says, “C’mon I’ll drive you.” He rises to his feet and holds his hand out for you take.
Sujin’s jaw nearly drops as HER boyfriend slings your purse over his shoulder and helps you up, guiding you out of the booth by a hand to your back.
“Jungkook.” Sujin snaps, “I think she’s got it don’t you think?” Her boyfriend turns to look at her, and proceeds to give her the meanest fucking mug ever. Like if she had the audacity to ruin whatever the fuck was happening in front her. “What?” Sujin raises a brow.
You look up at Jungkook with those stupid puppy eyes of yours, “I can call an uber no biggie.” You say softly.
“Hey, since our meeting was cut so short, how bout I pay for it, yeah?” Sujin smiles while whipping her phone out and pressing ‘request’, like she didn’t have that ride ready to order.
Jungkook does that thing when he’s pissed where he pokes his tongue inside his cheek, he has the audacity to have a staredown with her but Sujin doesn’t back down. “..Yeah, I’ll walk you out then y/n.”
“It was nice meeting you.” You softly say while hugging Sujin tightly before waltzing out the door with Jungkook’s hand over your hip.
Sujin has to pinch the bridge of her nose, on one hand you’re the sweetest thing ever but c’mon you can’t be THAT dense can you? Sujin would have liked you in another world where you weren’t trying to get with her boyfriend.
Sujin looks out of the window and sees Jungkook leaning against the car door while you slip into the back. He’s telling you something and you’re looking at him like he’s hung the fucking stars or something. Luckily nothing happens and Jungkook closes the door before stepping back to watch the car take off.
“Fucking prick.” Sujin mutters under her breath as she steps out with a pissed look. “What the fuck was that Jungkook, huh? You gonna sit there and lie to my face and tell me not to worry about her? Answer me.” She lightly hits his arm.
Jungkook sighs deeply, “What? Fuck are you on right now, the night was going so good I don’t see the problem here.”
His nonchalant attitude makes her seethe even more, “Jungkook, she has no fucking boundaries and you don’t seem to give a shit about that, I’m the GIRLFRIEND here but this fucking turned into me meeting you two instead of her meeting me. It’s fucking humiliating watching her put hands on my boyfriend and worse that you chose to sit with her.”
“And yet you knew I was friends with her. Literally that’s everything everyone’s been telling you before I brought you here to meet her, be prepared for how close y/n is with me. This isn’t brand new to you Sujin.” Jungkook replies while fishing a cigarette out of his pocket.
Sujin watches in disbelief as he lights it and takes a drag like nothing, “That doesn’t make it okay for her to do that though. Close or not I don’t give a fuck Jungkook, you’re either with me or you’re not.” She snaps, “So tell me now before I waste my fucking time.”
Jungkook takes his sweet time, puffing away as he watches the smoke disappear into the night sky, “Okay.”
“Okay?” Sujin tilts her head, “Okay, what?”
“It’s over.” And just like that Sujin’s jaw drops for real this time, she’s utterly gagged into silence as she watches her (now) ex-boyfriend stomp out the cigarette before turning to her with a sinister look in his eye, “Bye.” He passes without as much as a glance, leaving her silent.
Sujin turns her head and watches him leave, “What the fuck.” She whispers.
.
(Not even an hour later.)
“Okay, this one or this one?” You held up two different babydoll dresses—one white with delicate frills, the other silk but more of a bodycon-type but it had a cute bow on it so why not.
Jungkook’s eyes briefly flick up from his phone, he stares at both of the dresses for a cool minute before nodding his head, “The white one.” He leans back with one arm on the bed and both legs spread apart (gosh him and his manspreading).
“I thought so too!” You happily say and carelessly toss it into the pile of clothes lying in your open suitcase, “Okay now help me decide between my sneakers or my ballet flats?” He doesn’t even answer cause he’s busy laughing at something on his phone.
“Jungkooookkk,” you huff irritably but this man does not look up. He just toys with his stupid lip ring while smiling down at his screen.
You let the shoes hit the ground as you quietly saunter over, slipping right into his lap with practiced ease. He doesn’t react because this is an all too familiar scene for him. He hooks his arm around your waist and tucks his chin over your shoulder, still scrolling mindlessly. “What’s up? Hm.” He murmurs.
“I needed your help choosing which shoes I should take.” You hide your face in his neck and lay one tiny kiss on it, “You’re mean.”
“Am I?” Jungkook brings you down with him when he slowly lays back on the bed. He tosses his phone somewhere and rests his arm behind his head. His free hand strokes your backside, cheekily stopping right above your ass before repeating.
Your hands settle over his toned stomach where his shirt has ridden up revealing his beautiful physique underneath. His damn Calvin Klein boxers hug him just right too, hanging low over his hips where a small amount of hair leads down…you know where..
“Mm-hm, ‘s not nice to ignore me.” You nod with a dreamy look, pillowy lips pursed (which make them much more alluring in Jungkook’s humble opinion).
Jungkook hums again and runs his hand over your ass, landing small little pats of appreciation here ‘n there, “It isn’t huh,” he trails off quietly while tattooed fingers make work of the bow tied around the front of your shorts.
You shake your head and come down so that you’re chest to chest with Jungkook, face leveled with his as the two of you stare into each other's eyes. “No,” you softly say, nimble fingers creeping under his shirt to trail up his middle with light feathery touches.
“No.” He softly mimics in a high-pitched tone that’s meant to sound like you, “You’re so fuckin’ cute, but you might wanna get a move on though cause the guys are gonna be here any minute now ‘n you don’t want them to come in and see what a desperate little thing you are? No huh,” he mock pouts while tapping your cheek.
“You’re mean! I’m not talking to you for ten whole minutes.” You huff angrily and get off his lap, “Stop laughing, it's not funny.” You’re whining again before you can even stop yourself. It makes him double over in laughter, shoulders shaking and all too.
“My bad, my bad, I didn’t realize you were still upset over the shoes.” He chuckles while sitting back up with messy hair, “C’mere I’ll make it better.” He waves his hand, “C’mere! I’m not joking!” He laughs because you look at him incredulously.
You fold your arms over your chest and turn away, “No, I have to pack remember?” You’re shoving clothes into your suitcase with a quiet huff.
“Yeah, yeah.” You don’t even notice when he comes up behind and hauls you up into his arms. Jungkook tosses you on the bed like nothing causing you to yelp in surprise as your body bounces off the mattress a little, “If I give you a kiss will you quit your fuckin’ pouting?” He smirks.
You nod vigorously, “I want one here, here, and here.” You tap different areas on your face.
“I said one, not fucking five,” he snorts while peppering your face in small smooches regardless because he could never resist a pretty girl like you, “dumb little thing you are.”
“They don’t count as real kisses.” You smugly reply.
Jungkook smirks, “Oh, and what does hm? Give your Jungkookie a kiss and show me.” Without hesitating you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his.
You’re lips locked, softly moaning as he kisses the fuck out of you. It’s the way his lips glide over yours so smoothly like you’re meant to be kissing. All you can really do is dreamily sigh while his tongue runs over the seam of your lips. Of course you let him in and the kiss gets filthier if possible.
You feel his hand slide up your back slowly until he’s hooking his finger under the strap of your flimsy sleep top. He watches in hunger as your tit slips out from under the top, perky nipple already hard as he leans down to wrap his lips around it. The pleasure is hot when his tongue presses down on the bud, he has you whimpering quietly while burying your fingers through his hair.
“Mmm–Jungkook, wait,” you breathlessly sigh while pushing his face away, “Sujin.” You softly say while playing with his hair, “What ‘bout her?”
Jungkook stares back up at you through hooded eyes, “Who?” He replies to which you grin back, “Hm, just let me enjoy your tits in peace.” He crudely mumbles before taking your nipple back into his hot mouth.
He fondles and squeezes your other tit while sucking on your rather sensitive teat. The heat between your legs is unbearable, Jungkook knew damn well why you hated having your nipples played with yet he carried on without a care. Your poor clit throbbed from neglect and your pussy was slicking up by the second, you fear a glob would slip out if he dared to switch your positions.
“J-Jungkook..!” You huff and press your thighs together hoping to alleviate some of the heat.
He pinches hard causing you to whine, it doesn’t stop him because he’s then using a hint of teeth on your sensitive bud. “Oh..!” Your mouth falls open and your back arches off the bed, thighs shaky and wobbly.
Jungkook pulls away with a string of slick connecting to your nipple, “Turn over baby,” he smacks your ass hard and jiggles your cheek, “arch that pretty back for me, yeahh like that—low.” He darkly comments while watching you turn over with your hips raised high and front flat to the bed.
He shuffles around and gets behind you holding you steady with a hand to your hip. “Pull ‘em to the side,” he says while lazily pushing his sweats down, shoving them low enough till they’re right under his balls, “How desperate are you, hm? How bad do you want this cock baby?” He grins while slapping the tip through your dewy sticky folds.
You bite your lip and reach behind you to hold yourself open for him, “Bad, need it so bad Jungkookie..feel so empty without it.” You pout while pushing back until his cock gets trapped between your thighs, the thick shaft pressing right up against your throbbing little clit.
“Yeah?” Jungkook licks his lips, “Gonna let me have it?” He murmurs as his cock slides through the mess between your thighs, globs of slick coating the shaft.
“Mm-hmm.” You nod.
“Mm-hm.” Jungkook smirks as he lands a rough smack to your ass, “Push me in baby.”
You reach back to rub his cock through your folds, tapping the tip against your needy hole until it catches. Your breath hitches as the tip pops in, he doesn’t make a move to shove himself deeper or anything—he stays perfectly still.
“Jungkook!” You turn to glare back at him, “S-Stop teasing me.”
“I’m not doing anything, if you want it you know what to do.” Jungkook grins while biting his lip, “You know what I wanna see baby, don’t play dumb.”
You grumble under your breath and slowly push your hips back until your ass meets his pelvis. There’s a low squelch as the rest of his cock slips in and as much as you would’ve loved for him to fuck you, this was also good. You pant hotly into the pillow and wiggle around with soft little ‘mm’s as Jungkook rubs his hand over your hip and holds you steady.
“There you go, bring it back for me,” he huskily mumbles while watching the ripple of your cheeks jiggle each time your ass meets his pelvis.
Little clapping noises begin to rise subtly as your pace gets quicker and quicker. You meet him thrust for thrust, there’s a low fopping sound as his balls make contact with your puckered lips, pressing right up against you each time you bottom out.
Jungkook’s eyes are glued to the sight of your pretty pink rim hugging his cock tight each time he backstrokes. His cock is covered in a sheen of slick and he swears every time he pushes back in he comes back out with more.
“So messy,” he lays his thumb over your other puckered hole, “hear that?” He grunts, “Sloppy lil cunt taking me so well, got you creaming for me.”
Jungkook’s breath hitches when his thumb accidentally slips through the tight barrier and into your ass. You loudly mewl and buck your hips in surprise, it doesn’t hurt but it feels weird..weird in a good way though.
“Oh, you like that don’t you?” He licks his lips, “Baby loves having her holes filled up doesn’t she?”
You moan in response and bury your face in the pillow with muffled cries. The pleasure shoots up your spine and has you curling in on yourself. Your cunt throbs like crazy now and everything somehow feels ten times better than before.
“Answer me.” Jungkook slaps your cheek rather hard.
“Mmph–y-yes..!” You whimper despite the pillow being in your mouth.
“Yea,” he laughs as he suddenly snaps his hips up, “you love it don’t you? Can’t get enough of this cock.” He plows into you with repeated thrusts, each one jostling you up the bed and sending you into a pleasure hazed mind.
Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as Jungkook grips you by the hip with one hand and slams you back onto his cock. Your toes curl from the intensity of his cock slamming into your g-spot while his thumb fills your ass. The heat coiling in your tummy has you squirming and whimpering.
“Too much? Where you goin?” You don’t realize you’re actively moving away from him till his cock threatens to slip out, “You can take it baby, don’t run.” He laughs low while dragging you right back onto his cock.
In fact he follows you down till you’re laying flat on the bed and his thumb slips out of your puckered hole, “Gonna cum? Hm?” He lays flat over your back and hooks his chin over your shoulder, “C’mon, don’t go stupid on me.” He smacks your cheek gently a couple of times.
“Yes..!” You gasp breathily, “S-So, so close..” Your voice sounds wobbly and garbled, and the shaking in your thighs doesn’t stop.
Jungkook coos, “So close,” he buries his face in the side of your neck and leaves marks of his own there, “go on, cum on this dick.”
Your lips part and you let out a high-pitched mewl, your pussy spasms around him with your cunt squeezing and massaging his cock. Your eyes slip shut and you slump against the bed with a whine, the orgasm took the life out of you.
“Fuuckk,” he sighs as he slows down, grinding his cock in and out of the mess between your thighs, “good girl,” he groans softly until he comes to a stop and stills.
His cock throbs and twitches, spurt after spurt of cum filling you to the brim. You can feel some of it slide out with globs of your own slick. Jungkook hums deeply and gives your ass a pat of appreciation, “Shower?” He asks softly.
“Mm-hmm.” You nod still face down in the sheets.
“Mm-hm.” Jungkook copies while laughing to himself as he slips out of your cunt with a lewd squelch. You don’t even have the energy to fight with him right now, you’re just ready for bed at this point.
+
You can’t help the little yawn that escapes as you turn your face to tuck yourself into Jungkook’s side. Whose idea was it to take a roadtrip to Busan, you don’t know but you’re barely even awake after that rough fucking.
You and Jungkook had opted to sit in the back away from everyone and enjoy each other’s company instead. Jungkook’s hand came to rest over your thigh like that’s his permanent spot.
So far the ride is peaceful, Yoongi’s managed to successfully get you all out of the city and onto the highway (thanks to Namjoon’s excellent navigation skills). In front of you Jimin’s knocked out while Taehyung watches something on his phone. Namjoon’s talking with Yoongi about something you can’t bring yourself to care for.
You can feel your eyelids getting heavier by the second and it feels like you’re about to slip into the best sleep ever when Jungkook stops you. Not literally, but it still feels like it with the way he slides his hand up your bare thigh.
“Hm?” You sleepily look up wondering what on Earth he was up to now.
Jungkook pats you, “C’mere, want you on my lap baby.” He mutters as quietly as he can.
You rub your eyes and slip yourself on to his lap, tucking your chin over his shoulder and squeezing your thighs on either side of him. God bless that you chose to wear your thin sleeping shorts and slutty juicy sweater, Jungkook can just about feel your perky tits through the soft material.
“Shh.. not a peep or else I’m gonna gag you with your panties.” He mumbles low in your ear, stroking over your back to keep you calm.
“Jungkookie–”
“Jungkookie needs you to shut the fuck up, can you do that for me?” He squeezes your ass and kneads both cheeks rather roughly, “Good girl.”
“If they look, I’m not stopping. So if I were you I’d keep quiet baby, unless you want Joon and them to know how much of a cock hungry slut you are.”
He sounds so fucking calm but his words are the complete opposite, you find yourself holding in your desperate whines. “Can you..?”
“Can I what?” He slips his hand under your shorts and tugs it to the side alongside your panties, “Hm?”
You bite your lip and lift your hips, “Want something in me, I feel so empty Kook..” You breathe out and wrap your arms around his neck.
Through the drowsiness you faintly make out his soft curses as he whispers under his breath. Jungkook pokes at your slit and slips his fingers through your messy folds.
“Take my cock out,” he mumbles and you happily reach between the two of you to slip your hand into his sweats.
His cock throbs when your soft hand wraps around it, he has to bite his lip when you dig your thumb into the slit and swipe over the messy head. “Don’t tease..” He grunts with a small sharp smack to your ass.
You lift your hips and with his help manage to slip his cock through your dewy folds. You blindly slap the tip against your slicked up hole, the tip catching on your rim.
“Slow,” he sounds calm and collected but the way he swallows harshly tells you otherwise.
You bite your moans back and push yourself until your ass is meeting his thighs. The heat in your belly pools and your poor clit throbs. Is it you or the car feels hotter?
You hide your face in his neck and suck over old and new hickeys you’ve left these past days. Jungkook relaxes into the seat and sighs, luckily it doesn’t sound like it’s out of the ordinary.
“You can sleep now.” Jungkook off-handedly mumbles while closing his eyes, leaving you utterly speechless. You’re not entirely surprised given his little track record of being mean and shit.
“G’night..” You softly mumble and kiss his cheek, you lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Maybe if you’re a good girl he’ll make you cum later on..yeah, that sounds amazing, you smile in your sleep and drift off into dreamland with a cunt full of cock.
.
“So hot..” You softly mumble while fanning yourself with a make-shift fan.
Everyone but Namjoon went out today to explore the town and shit. You opted to stay back and wait for the sun to die down to go out later. Namjoon said something about keeping you company so you didn’t mind.
Here you are laying on the ground with your legs thrown up on the couch over Namjoon’s lap. Your pretty babydoll dress rides up your thighs and you occasionally catch Namjoon’s gaze drifting down. What a sight is it to see—veiny big hands plastered over your soft ankles toying with your cherry charm anklet.
“Namjoon, if penguins are related to the bird family, how come they can't fly?” You softly say while looking at him through your lashes.
“I dunno,” He shrugs while stroking over your foot, “environmental and evolutionary reasons maybe?”
You pout and tilt your head back to watch the TV, “I think they’re cute.”
“Why don’t you find one and give it a kiss then?” Namjoon smirks in amusement, “Maybe Jungkookie can save you if it tries to attack you or something.”
“Not funny.” You whine kicking your sock-clad foot at him, but he catches it and tugs on your foot.
You squeal softly as he ends up dragging you upwards just a tiny bit, “Owie let go, you’re squeezing my freaking bone.” You giggle.
Namjoon lets your foot go with a laugh, “My bad, my bad.” He raises his hands in surrender, “You can tell your Jungkookie to kiss it all better when he comes back yeah?” He grins.
“Ugh you’re also mean.” You huff while sitting up feeling light headed cause you were laying on the ground for so long. “You and Jungkook.” You mumble and climb onto the couch with him.
Jungkook finds you two like that. You’re tangled up with Namjoon side by side, legs thrown over his lap as he strokes over your soft thigh. Namjoon’s mindlessly scrolling through his phone and you’re just you watching some animal documentary on the TV.
“Hey.” Jungkook greets while falling on another sofa.
“Back already,” Namjoon hums, “where’s the others?”
“Out, they went to the beach cause Jimin wanted to go. It was fuckin’ hot so I came back, we didn’t do much but walk around the tour shops and shit.”
You lift a leg in the air to admire your pretty anklet, “Did you bring me anything?” You softly ask.
“Yeah, it’s in the bag.” Jungkook replies calmly as he fishes his phone out and does whatever the hell he usually does on that thing.
With both men preoccupied with their phones you decide to head outside to sunbathe. God bless the airbnb for having a private pool. “Where you going?” Jungkook mumbles, not looking up from his screen.
“Sunbathing.” You curtly reply and head outside through the large patio doors.
It’s hot as hell but you don’t care as you kick your socks off and strip out of your babydoll dress. You happily lay your towel out on the grass and set up a mini umbrella. Once you're happy with your setup you lay on your back and slip your heart shaped glasses on.
You can hear Namjoon and Jungkook talking in the background faintly, something about Sujin but you honestly don’t bring yourself to care much. Along the lines Jungkook mentions Sujin texting him again, Namjoon says “oh shit really” and then Jungkook tells him everything.
“..giving… chance… again..?” You can’t make out the entire convo. You crack a slow smile and turn over on your belly, legs kicked up and your feet in the air as you call out to the boys.
“Can someone bring me my phone?” Your voice soft and velvety, you slip your glasses up on your head and flutter your lashes, “Please?”
Jungkook stops talking and looks over the coffee table before stepping out with your phone in hand. “Look at you all cute and shit, enjoying your sunbathing?” Jungkook asks as he squats down in front of you.
“Yep, it’d be funner if you and Joonie joined me though.” You softly hum while tilting your head up and letting Jungkook lay a kiss over your soft lips.
“Yeah..?” He murmurs low. It’s glaringly obvious you have this man wrapped around your little fingers. It’s like you didn’t even have to try with him.
“I’ll be right back.” He says and disappears into the house.
You roll over on your back with a satisfied smile, slipping your glasses back on as you hum, “The boy is mine, I can’t wait to try him,”
+
Maybe Jungkook’s the one trying you right now. It’s not even nine am yet..
Your thighs encase his head like a pair of soft earmuffs, he’s got his tongue dipped between your messy folds with your pussy stuffed in his face. Jungkook doesn’t seem to care though, he’s got his strong big arms wrapped around your thighs as he holds you down and makes you take it.
Your clit’s just as sensitive as every other part of you, and Jungkook just loves to make you shake. He traces the tip of his tongue over your sensitive bud, flicking it back and forth with quick strokes. It has your lips parting and your head leaning back from the cloudy pleasure.
“Oh..” You roll your hips upward into his eager mouth, something that greatly pleases Jungkook.
He slips his tongue lower and flicks it upward to get a taste of all that creamy slick gushing from your empty cunt. You slap a hand over your mouth and whimper when he goes back to your poor clit. This time though he wraps his lips around it and gives it a harsh, mean suck.
Jungkook flicks his dark eyes up to look at you, just watching as you lose yourself on his tongue. The way your tummy goes taut and your body stiff when he grazes his teeth over your clit sends a dark thrill down his spine. He wants to see more, so he’s going to get more.
“J-Jungkook!” You cry out as he stuffs his fingers knuckle deep into your pussy.
There’s a loud squelch each time he slaps his fingers up into your greedy cunt. Your pussy’s literally leaking as small dribbles of squirt oozes out with each passing second. You’re shaking, thighs struggling to stay open and not clamp down on his head. Your lower half shakes slightly from his rough movements and your pussy makes these nasty wet sounds.
“Wait,” you sob and reach down to grip his hair, “ ‘m so close..! P-Please, please,” you’re not sure what you’re begging for—go, stop?
The heat in your tummy builds quickly and you’re teetering on the edge of a powerful orgasm when he suddenly stops. All at once both his fingers and mouth are gone as he pulls away while harshly panting. You can’t even complain but the intensity has your heart racing with excitement and fear.
“Okay?” He quietly asks while stroking your thigh gently.
You take a couple of seconds to catch your breath, meekly nodding as you bite your lip, “ ‘m okay.” You softly reply.
He climbs up the bed and hovers over you, necklace dangling in your face as you stare up at him with glossy eyes. “Kiss?” You softly say while parting your pillowy soft lips. He’s very much happy to oblige of course..
You lazily make out, your lips feel swollen and they’re glossy from spit. He doesn’t let you pull away, he’s quick to chase after your lips and reel you back in with a hand to the back of your neck. His hand tightly grips your hair and teasingly tugs because he knows you’re a little slut for it.
You moan into his mouth and needily press yourself closer to him, hooking your thigh over his hip just so you could press your needy pussy against him. Everything feels hot and you don’t like it, Jungkook’s not helping with the way he drops his other hand down to your ass cheek, gripping it tight and using his grip to yank you even closer.
Body to body, you’re rolling your hips up to feel the tent in his boxers. It’s mouth watering when the curve of his thick cock presses into your inner thigh, so close to where you need him the most..
Jungkook tightens his grip on your hip, it’s bruising even as he presses himself into you and rubs his cock over your soaked pussy. The rough friction has your toes curling and another needy gasp escaping. He pulls away from the kiss with a wild look in his eye, he pants quietly as he shoves his boxers off and tosses them somewhere.
“Hold yourself open for me baby,” he holds his heavy cock in his hand, stroking over it slowly as he looks down at your glistening cunt, “just like that..” He mumbles darkly.
You hook your arms around your thighs and pull them up to your chest so that your pussy is laid out bare for him. You bite your lip in anticipation and try your best to stay still when he taps the tip over your swollen clit.
“Look so pretty like this,” he muses as he slips his cock in inch by inch, “prettier down here too.” He grins as he lays his thumb over your clit and rubs it side to side slowly.
You let out a long “mm” as his cock fills you over and over again, filling you in the right places combined with his gentle strokes over your clit. He’s got you dripping even more as his cock re-surfaces covered with your creamy slick.
Jungkook rolls his hips into yours slowly, you can hear the quiet grunts and moans slip from his lips as he remains focused on the spot where you’re connected. His face is scrunched in pleasure, and his thumb becomes jerky as he messily swipes over your bud.
You get the urge to ride the fuck out of him, he’s been nothing but doting and now you want to return the favor. Always the giver but never the receiver, and you’re going to change that.
“Jungkookie,” you softly sigh as his eyes snap up to your face, “wanna ride you,” you pout, “can I pretty please?” You purposely squeeze around his cock as he back strokes slowly.
“Yeah,” he softly breathes out and lifts you up into his lap as he switches places with you.
You huff as his cock somehow slips deeper in the new position, “No, you lay back and let me do it.” His eyes widened slightly at your demanding tone, “I wanna make you feel good too..” You pout and wiggle around in his lap.
Jungkook bites his lip and lets his hand fall to your thighs, “Fuck–okay, yeah,” he lays his head back on the pillow and swallows harshly as you smile down at him and lay a soft kiss on his lips.
“Fuck,” he groans when you turn around in his lap to ride him reverse cowgirl. He lays his hands over the fat of your ass and smacks each cheek repeatedly while you grind yourself in his lap.
Your moans spill from your lips as you arch your back and roll your hips back and forth. Behind you Jungkook sounds like he’s having the time of his life as he holds your ass tightly in both hands. The noises he makes only fuel your desire more as you rock yourself in his lap.
“Mm–fills me up so good,” you tilt your head back with a teasing smile, “can feel it so deep in my pussy.”
Jungkook growls low and spanks you harder, “Yeah? You like knowing you’re the only one taking my cock like this huh,” he smirks, “ ‘s all yours baby.”
You huff softly and look at him over your shoulder with puppy eyes, “Mine only.” You nod, “Not hers,” you roughly slap your hips back, catching him off guard as he grunts, “Right?”
“Only you.” Jungkook sighs as he tugs you back so that you’re grinding over his cock the way he likes, “Always yours.” He murmurs.
You smile happily and begin bouncing in his lap, your ass claps against his pelvis as low fopping noises build up. The bed creaks a little and your skin smacks together as you get a little wild with it.
Your moans rise in volume alongside his as the two of you lose yourselves in your rough fucking. Your pussy clamps down when the tip of his cock brushes over your g-spot repeatedly. You have to put your hands on the bed for support as you whimper and grind quickly on his lap.
“F-Fuck..” You whimper low as your thighs begin to tremble again.
Jungkook throws his head back with a low groan as he holds your hips tightly, “Fuck keep going baby, almost there,” he whispers breathlessly, “you can do it.”
You let out a cry and slam yourself on his lap until you go still as your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. It’s mind blowing as your cunt tightens up and a wave of hot pleasure comes crashing down on you. You shake in his lap and whimper out a garbled version of his name.
Jungkook quietly moans as he holds you still and bucks his hips up a couple of times until he’s filling you with his cum. His cock twitches and pulses through his orgasm, dully reminding you that you’re on planet earth still and you need to come down from your high.
“My pussy hurts.” You softly whine while looking back at him.
“My pussy hurts,” he mocks softly, “but who just got the dicking of their life hm? You did.” He pokes your cheeks and brings you back so that you’re laying with him, “You okay?” He chuckles.
You hide your face in his neck and nod, “Nap now, food later?” You softly ask.
“Yeah, I like the sound of that.” He grins.
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)
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synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too
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— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)
— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)
— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333
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the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 
you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 
and then satoru wins. 
you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 
whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 
and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 
for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.
it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 
he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 
“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 
“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”
“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”
“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 
it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 
it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.
you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 
you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 
“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”
“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”
“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”
“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”
your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 
“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 
suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 
you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 
“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 
“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.
“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”
you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 
but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 
you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.
“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”
“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”
“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”
“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.
“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 
i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.
“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.
he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”
it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 
————————————————
even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 
the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 
you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 
“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 
as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 
except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 
it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 
“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 
and then you remember. 
faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 
it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 
but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 
“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 
“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”
“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.
“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”
it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 
“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 
“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”
you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 
when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 
————————————————
“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 
“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 
it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 
but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 
“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.
“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”
“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”
“tell him to go fuck off.”
“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”
“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 
you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 
he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 
you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 
but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 
so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”
“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 
“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.
he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 
“let’s go,” you hum.
“after you,” he mutters.
he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 
suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  
it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.
as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 
“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”
he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 
for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 
“what are you—”
“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 
“what?”
“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”
“i’m not a teenager anymore—”
“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”
“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 
“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”
so you do. 
with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.
“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”
“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.
“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”
“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 
“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”
suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 
suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 
something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  
but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 
“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”
“me too,” he says quietly.
“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”
home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.
“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”
“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 
his breath hitches. 
she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 
there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 
perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 
because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.
suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 
“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 
he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.
but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 
but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 
“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 
every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 
“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”
“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”
suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.
“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”
“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 
but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.
————————————————
satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 
you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 
but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 
satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 
it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?
well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 
it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).
it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 
and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 
it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 
geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 
so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 
it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.
and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.
“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.
“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”
“about…?”
“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”
“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”
“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”
“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”
“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”
“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”
“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”
“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”
“what?” you blink.
“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”
“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”
“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 
but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 
good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 
and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 
ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 
he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 
“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”
“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”
“how lucky of you,” you snort. 
picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 
so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 
“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”
“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”
“of all movies—”
“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”
“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”
“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”
all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 
“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.
“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”
“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.
“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”
“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 
suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 
you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 
“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”
suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 
“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”
you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.
it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.
“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 
in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.
it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.
————————————————
suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 
“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”
“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”
“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 
“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”
“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.
“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”
“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”
“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 
sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 
“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”
“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”
despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 
suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.
“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”
there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 
suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 
he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.
“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 
“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”
“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”
“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”
“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”
“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 
it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.
deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.
it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 
it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 
you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 
it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 
“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.
“do what?”
“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”
“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”
“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.
“like what?” he raises a brow. 
“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 
he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.
“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”
you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.
of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 
you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 
“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”
“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.
fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 
“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”
“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”
never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?
“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”
“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”
“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”
“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”
“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”
“i know—”
“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 
“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”
“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.
“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 
being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 
“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.
“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”
you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.
“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.
he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 
“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.
“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 
“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 
it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 
“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”
“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”
“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 
“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”
“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”
“yeah,” you breathe.
he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 
you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 
finally, for once, you’re enough. 
“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”
“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”
“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”
“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.
he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 
maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 
in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.
“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 
“because i need you here. will you stay?”
“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”
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hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3
also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok
6K notes · View notes
yoyokalicent · 3 months
Text
soon you will be mine, oh, but i want you now.
pairing: felix catton x fem!reader
summary: you're felix's favorite girl, you had been since you were young. what happens when you're all he needs?
warnings: cursing, mentions of fucking and alcohol, felix is a freak and in love with his best friend.
a/n: this little fic is based off fallingforyou by the 1975 bc its arguably one of their most heartbreakingly good songs so!! (lyrics in bold)
。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆。°。°✩⋆
i'm so excited for the night all we need's my bike and your enormous house
the strobe lights were almost blinding as you search the large house for felix. felix, who all but got on his knees to beg you to accompany him to the house party you now wander around aimlessly.
"princess!" you barely hear felix over the booming sound of music being pumped through every speaker in the house, "lost you for a minute there, you ok?"
his hand finds yours immediately walking with you toward the sliding glass doors, "just need some air, fi."
"me too, i'll go with you." i'll go anywhere with you, he means.
his hand leaves yours and felix can't help the bout of disappointment he feels in the pit of his stomach, wishing he could hold your hand just a little longer.
felix watches you intently as you open the door with the hand that not long ago was occupied his own, and once the door is open enough for you to exit your hand slots right into his own.
"do you have a cig?" what a stupid question, you see he has a full pack in his back pocket, you don't know is that he wants to share one with you, to see the red smudges of your lipstick around the end of it before he takes a drag of his own.
"f'course." you rake your hands through your black handbag, the handbag he purchased for you while his family was on holiday in paris. once you pull out your worn pack of cigarettes you follow up with your light pink lighter, "hm?"
it was your signal for him to light it for you, he takes the lighter out of your hands and cups a hand around your lips, lighting the cigarette for you. maybe its the drinks, the cups of liquor you had poured for him making his head spin, or maybe it was you, the thought of you being his one day. just one day, but he wants you now.
after your long drag you pass the cigarette to him, blowing out the smoke and looking out toward the backyard where friends were dancing, and lovers were making out in the dark corner by the trees.
"i've always loved nights like this, its so easy." you say, reaching your hand back out for the cigarette.
"me too, fun." he responds, as you flick the ends of the cigarette and watch the ashes fall onto the concrete, "always have fun with you, princess."
the nickname fell from his lips easily, something he had called you since you were a princess on halloween in grade school, never failing to pick on you for it.
"wanna get out of here?" felix asks looking for your confirmation, just wanting to be alone with you, not having to deal with farleigh's knowing glare.
"i do, fi. walk me back?" another stupid question, but this time coming from you, "or am i staying with you?"
"you'll stay with me, princess."
i'm caught on your coat again you said, "oh no, it's fine"
the weather in oxford was completely contradictory to felix's mood. the grey sky with icy winds had no comparison for the light reflecting from his smile. he was sat in some dingy diner (somewhere that only you could get him to step foot into) waiting for the check with you beside him.
he completely rejected your idea of sitting across from him, arguing that, "i haven't seen you in ages, why would i want you to be anywhere but my side?"
your lips were wrapped around the straw of the strawberry milkshake you swore you needed, shamefully felix can't help but think about your lips. the way they break into a smile, the way they sing your favorite songs, the way they'd look wrapped around him.
you're his best friend for goodness sake.
"fi?"
fuck the thinks, "princess."
"do you think we could go to the corner store? i wanted to get those crisps you like. i've been wanting them since the other night." you ask him with hesitation, as if he has ever denied you anything, as if he ever could.
"yep," felix pops his p, mirroring something you had always done, "quite a walk, sure you want to in the cold?"
you take one last sip of your milkshake before responding, "i've got you to keep me warm, don't think that's enough?" he wraps his arm around you to pull you closer to him.
his silence is telling, for as long as you had known him he was never one for comfortable silence. but, with you he could sit for hours without talking, just to be with you.
once the check is payed, by felix, you are bouncing out of your seat, forgetting the jacket that was resting by the end of your back.
"forgetting something?" he holds the jacket up, opening it for your arms to slip into effortlessly.
before your hands have the chance to zip up your jacket his are working at the zipper, toward the middle of the jacket the zipper stops.
"huh?" he says, trying to find where it went wrong.
his mind is racing as he tries to find the flaw in your jacket, when he finds the culprit it almost warms his heart. the fringes of his own jacket were caught in the teeth of your own. a piece of himself was caught in a piece of you.
"sorry bout that, princess."
"oh, no s'fine." without hesitation he zips your jacket all of the way, not wanting to risk you catching a cold. going as far as to giving you his own scarf and putting your hood up for you.
"and what would i do without you?" you ask, hooking your arm in his own and resting your cheek on his bicep as you walk down the street.
"freeze, and possibly have to buy your own food."
feeling of your arms i don't want to be your friend, i want to kiss your neck
felix loved the feeling of your bed. the soft linens your mother had sent from southern italy, the fluffy blankets, firm pillows, the feeling of your arms wrapped around his waist with your head lodged between his shoulder blades.
he loved it, right now, he longed for it.
farleigh was next to him talking to some guy at the pub and all he could think about is what you were doing. felix truly tried his hardest to get you to go with them to the pub, but you swore up and down tonight was your night for rest and relaxation.
stupidly, so stupidly, felix thought he would have more fun at the pub entertaining girls he'd never go home with instead of entertaining you.
"wanna get out of here?" a girl asks, pawing at his chest. all he can do his feign disgust, why would he want to leave with anyone but you?
"no," he responds, and sees the look on her face drop, "thanks" his words are slurred and all he can do is think to count the drinks he's had. the liquor really has affected him, usually he has you mooching off of whatever he has in his cup.
but, not tonight.
"farleigh, i need to go." felix pats farleigh on the shoulder, signaling his leave of absence.
"tell princess i said hi." farleigh responds, mocking his nickname for you, and felix can only open and close his mouth with a nod. felix starts his walk out of the bar with a slight wave to farleigh.
the walk to your dorm was quick, and his legs moved in a brisk walk, quickly starting to border a jog. wanting to get to you, get into your shower, get into your bed as quick as possible.
he dodges groups of partygoers and their judgmental glares skillfully, if they knew what he was running to he's sure they wouldn't be looking at him the way they were.
he arrives at your dormitory and ditches the stuffy elevator that would take too long, he doesn't have time for waiting. his legs move up the stairs, slower this time. almost savoring in the excitement of seeing you.
the many cups have him thinking, what if he told you now? he waits in front of your door, waiting. not knocking, just thinking. thinking about happy he could make you. thinking about what he could do for you, what you could do for him.
just before his mind could catch up with his movements he's knocking on the door. reeling in what he could say to you, and then you open the door.
your hair is in your rollers, and your body is drowning in your light yellow nightgown. ignoring all signs of sleepiness you smile, "felix?"
"i do not want to be your mate." your smile immediately drops, and your eyes open wide, suddenly he wants to jump down the flight of steps he had just climbed.
"what the fuck, felix?"
"no, no, no, princess, not like that." his large hands take your face into them, so tightly that your cheeks are smushed together, not to hurt you, never to hurt you.
"then how felix? you come to me in the middle of night to tell me what?" your words are slurred to the grip he has on his face.
you can smell the whiskey radiating off of him, making this all the more confusing, his hands fall from your face to his sides, "i don't want to be your friend." he takes breath, a deep breath, "i wanna kiss your neck"
"huh?" you ask again, slowly getting at what he means, but needing him to say it. say what you had been thinking for the last year.
"there was a girl at the bar, and she wasn't ugly. at all. she wanted to go home with me-"
you cut him off, "felix."
"sorry. but, i didn't want to go with her, all i thought about was you. coming home to you, maybe even kissing you, hugging you, fucking yo-"
you cut him off again, "felix."
"i just-"
"you what, felix?"
"i really love you. i love you so much i only think of you, i only think about you so much i can't hear a song without thinking about you. i love you so much i've started to lose my mind! i love you so much, princess." his lips smash into yours, and you taste him. the whiskey, the mint lip balm, the cigarettes, you taste him.
you kiss him until his hands start to trail toward the end of your night gown, "can't give the neighbors a free show, fi."
"can't have them seeing what's mine."
your eyebrows raise teasingly, "yours?"
"you're mine princess, finally."
2K notes · View notes
prdx-invdr · 2 months
Text
୨୧⸝⸝﹕if you call me a fool, then i’ll be a fool.
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SUMMARY! you’ve been in love with park wonbin since the day the two of you met and never found the courage to tell him. why is it that you find yourself yearning to confess the moment someone else comes into the picture?
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PAIRING! park wonbin x fem!reader
GENRE! college!au, slice of life, fluff, angst (an attempt was made), friends to lovers, IDIOTS to lovers omg WC 8.1k
WARNING! swearing, jealousy, y/n likes wonbin an insane amount girl get up, insecurity, anton instigates like it’s his job and he’s up for a promotion, random female idol is mentioned many times (nothing against her!!), not proofread
NOTE! do u guys know what song the title is from lol.. LOL also i had another wonbin fic i wanted to post and deleted it bc it sucked so actually im posting this one as a coping mechanism
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you don’t realize the way you’re staring at the back of wonbin’s head until a voice snaps you out of your trance. “do you know what you want?” shotaro asks you, waving a hand in front of your face.
currently, the two of you, along with wonbin, seunghan, and anton, are standing in line at a beverage kiosk. the latter, having already received his drink, stands to your right while shotaro stands to your left. seunghan recites his order to the employee while wonbin stands idly behind him.
“don’t even bother asking,” anton chortles, lips still wrapped around his straw. “she’s probably gonna have wonbin order for her, like always.” you lightly slap him in the arm after the words leave his mouth, eyes darting to the aforementioned boy standing merely 2 inches in front of you, hoping he hadn’t heard anton’s teasing.
“i didn’t even say anything wrong! he orders for you all the time!” the boy whines, jokingly rubbing his arm where you had hit him.
shotaro lets out a curt laugh at the interaction, knowing that anton’s words held truth to them, whether you liked to admit it or not. “it’s because she’s shy. right, y/n?” he turns to you, attempting to diffuse your embarrassment. one look at the smile on his face and anyone would be able to tell that his words were complete bullshit. the two of you knew that the real reason you liked having wonbin order for you was because you liked him.
however, for your own sake, you sigh and choose to agree with shotaro’s statement, only offering a small nod. “whatever,” anton mutters under his breath, walking over to seunghan who has his own beverage in hand.
now that you, shotaro and wonbin were the only people in line, shotaro grabs your sleeve and gently pulls you backwards, putting more distance between the two of you and the boy who was now placing his order. before shotaro says anything, you know what the topic of conversation is going to be.
“do you ever plan on telling him?” is all he inquires, his voice lowering to a whisper. you avoid his piercing gaze, instead turning to look at anton and seunghan, laughing in between sips of their respective drinks. anton is already nearly finished with his, you note.
when you’re done observing them, you shift your attention to wonbin, who has his arms crossed as he points at one of the cup sizes the kiosk has on display, indicating that it’s the one he wants.
you’re unable to see his face but you’re able to picture it better than anything. the way his lip quirks upwards in an attempt to be polite to the employee. the furrow of his brow as he asks a question.
shotaro sighs at your silence and finds it astonishing how you’re able to ogle wonbin without even looking at his face. that very sigh brings you back into reality, finally meeting the gaze of the boy currently interrogating you.
“he… doesn’t think of me that way,” you slowly tell him, as if the words would physically pain you if you uttered them too quickly. shotaro lets out a noise you can only assume was meant to be a scoff, but being passive aggressive simply doesn’t run in his blood.
“are you kiddi-“ shotaro is interrupted by wonbin holding a drink in front of your face, thus putting a barrier between the two of you. “here, y/n,” the long haired boy hums, not moving from his spot until you take the beverage filled plastic cup. if you didn’t have park wonbin tunnel vision, as shotaro likes to call it, you’d see the way anton is shaking his head and letting out a short laugh in disbelief upon witnessing the interaction. “called it,” he tells seunghan, who only blinks in confusion.
“i wasn’t sure which one you wanted, but i remembered that time we went to that other drink place and you said you really liked the strawberry one, so i got you that,” wonbin explains, holding his own straw up to his mouth. he says it nonchalantly, as if you could either finish the drink in about 5 seconds before proclaiming how much you enjoyed it, or you could throw it to the ground and curse at him for assuming the flavor you wanted, and he wouldn’t flinch either way.
“um— yes— yeah, i..” you stutter, and shotaro swears it takes everything in him not to slap his own forehead at your sudden jumpiness. “i like it, thank you. you didn’t have to, wonbin,” you exhale, holding your drink with both hands.
“yeah, well, force of habit, you know?” the boy laughs. “since i’m always ordering for you anyway.” his words cause you to tense and you can just picture anton’s shit-eating grin after he heard what wonbin said. “right, yeah,” you nod, wanting the conversation to be over with. the 5 of you continue walking throughout the mall, seunghan complaining about what a ridiculous amount of time you had all just spent at that beverage kiosk.
“force of habit is crazy,” anton decides to tease you again, earning another slap on the arm. “stop hitting me!”
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besides ordering drinks for you when you hadn’t requested for him to do so, anton has noticed that wonbin also tends to subconsciously let you get away with… a lot.
he doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he rolls his eyes when he walks into the living room and sees none other than you and wonbin, the latter seated on the carpeted floor while you’re situated on the couch behind him, playing with his hair.
“i shouldn’t have come in here,” he mutters, barely audible. he’s unsure if he wanted you and wonbin to hear him, but your head snaps in his direction nonetheless. “hey, anton,” you greet him despite knowing that he’d have a lot to say about your current position. he nods his head in acknowledgement before pursing his lips. you brace yourself for whatever comment he’ll inevitably make next, morphing your lips into a straight line.
“you know,” anton starts, and you’re already holding back the urge to groan. “wonbin never lets any of us touch his hair like that.”
“right, because you guys are always so eager to play with my hair, huh?” wonbin quips sarcastically. anton shrugs, although wonbin isn’t looking at him. “so you’re saying if we wanted to, we could?” anton questions, moving across the living room to grab his phone charger, finally remembering why he had walked into the room in the first place.
“nah,” wonbin replies, “not sure why you’d want to, anyway.”
“i don’t see you questioning why y/n wants to do it,” anton insists, already making his way out of the room, pausing momentarily to hear wonbin’s response.
“she doesn’t need a reason,” his older friend says, “she’s y/n.” anton shakes his head and continues on his way. you resume treading your hand through wonbin’s hair as if nothing had happened, but unbeknownst to the boy sitting in front of you, your heart rate had increased at his words.
“he’s just jealous,” wonbin jokes. you only let out a short laugh in response. you wonder how he would react if you informed him that anton had actually sprung up that conversation because he knows about your tremendous crush on the raven haired boy.
“do you think you’d ever go blonde?” you inquire, changing the subject. he lets out a snort and tilts his head to look back at you. you’re grinning, trying to ignore the way your heart does somersaults in your chest.
“i don’t think the world is ready for that,” he laughs.
“what are we laughing about in here?” a voice sings from the door way, ripping your attention away from wonbin. you turn to the perpetrator and lock eyes with sungchan, who sends you a smile. you wave at him and he takes it as an invitation to sit himself down on the couch beside you.
“nothing much,” wonbin answers. your hands finally retreat from his hair and you miss the way his shoulders slump in response.
“right,” sungchan nods, turning his attention to whatever you and wonbin are watching on tv. in actuality, neither you nor him have been paying the television any mind for at least an hour, and only now do you realize that some sort of ocean documentary has been playing this whole time.
a few minutes of silence proceed before sungchan clasps his hands together and stands up from the couch abruptly, startling you.
“man, this has been boring,” he announces, eyes darting between the two of you, seated in the same positions as when he first entered the room. “do you guys even talk?”
“we were, actually, before you walked in,” wonbin mutters, not meaning for his words to come out as sourly as they do. sungchan raises his hands in the air in defense. “hey, my bad. i didn’t realize the two of you were having an ocean documentary date,” he retorts.
“we’re not having-“ you’re about to correct him, only for him to cut you off.
“but, you know, bin,” he says, “i’m not sure how sangah would feel about you having a movie date with another girl.”
you feel like your entire world freezes over the moment you hear those words leave sungchan’s mouth. you quickly rid your face of your crestfallen expression, not wanting to give yourself away.
“who?” you can’t stop yourself from asking, and sungchan just stares at you. wonbin waves his hand dismissively, shaking his head in annoyance. “shut up, dude.”
“wait, y/n doesn’t know about sangah?” sungchan asks, a genuinely confused look crossing over his features. “i thought you guys told each other everything.”
wonbin groans in irritation. “i haven’t told anyone, actually, because it doesn’t matter. you only know because you’re nosy as fuck.”
sungchan chuckles, and you would attempt to let out a halfhearted laugh if you didn’t feel like your chest was aching. you lick your lips and stare questioningly at the side of wonbin’s head.
“look, bro,” sungchan gestures towards you, causing wonbin to turn around and meet your disheartened eyes. his face drops slightly, and you’re not in the correct headspace to try and pinpoint why. “she’s upset because you didn’t tell her!” his friend chimes.
wonbin shakes his head, still looking at you. “she’s just some girl,” he huffs. “i don’t even know her that well.”
you scoff before plastering a wobbly smile onto your face. “i’m not upset,” your voice quivers and you hope that wonbin doesn’t notice it. you’re not sure why he decides to reassure you about sangah— whoever that is— but you pray that it’s not because he’s known about your pathetic crush on him all this time and is now feeling bad for you because he’s currently seeing someone.
of course, only your cruel mind could formulate such a sickening thought.
“i’m just.. surprised,” you conclude with an unconvincing nod. wonbin closes his eyes in annoyance, and you know it’s because of his intrusive friend standing in the doorway. “sungchan, just stop spreading shit around, alright?” he gives him a tired look, finally getting up from the floor. as wonbin makes his way past sungchan in the doorway, the taller boy gives him a playful slap on the shoulder. with wonbin having left the room, you find yourself looking to sungchan with urgency.
“who is sangah?” you plead, trying to keep your emotions at bay. the boy furrows his eyebrows, confusion settling into his features once more. “why do you care, y/n?” he asks. you know that his question doesn’t come from a place of mockery, but rather genuine interest. it hits you in that moment that sungchan, as smart as he is, happens to be absolutely terrible at taking a hint.
somehow, when it came to the long lasting feelings you harbored for one of his closest friends, sungchan was none the wiser. you surmise that he wouldn’t have teased wonbin so openly about another girl had he known about your feelings for the long haired boy.
that, you suppose, you can’t really blame him for.
“um,” you start, “he’s one of my closest friends.” your words are spoken through gritted teeth and clenched fists. “i’m just curious, you know?” the lie comes out easier than you think it should’ve.
sungchan hums, crossing his arms and giving you a curt nod. “just some girl,” sungchan tells you, repeating wonbin’s words from a few minutes ago. “yoon sangah. she’s in our music fundamentals class. like, 2 days ago, i think, she wrote her instagram handle on a slip of paper and gave it to wonbin right in front of me.” your face falls for what seems like the millionth time in the past 10 minutes. you can only offer the tall boy a nearly inaudible hum in response.
“do you think it’ll lead to anything? you know, between her and wonbin?” again, you can’t stop yourself from asking. you feel sick at the thought of playing into the role of ‘jealous, overthinking girlfriend’, and even sicker at the fact that you and wonbin aren’t even dating. what right do you have to be inquisitive about his love life?
still, you can’t help it. when sungchan takes a bit longer to respond to your question you fear you’re treading on dangerous territory, afraid that even the dense boy you’re conversing with may have cracked the code. the grin that he aims at you a few seconds later serves as reassurance that, no, he still doesn’t know anything.
“that’s a good question, y/n dearest,” he pats your shoulder lightly. “i guess only time will tell.”
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you hate yourself for what you’re doing right now.
looking back on the conversation you had with sungchan hours prior to this moment, you recalled him mentioning that sangah had given wonbin her instagram. thus, like any normal person would do in your situation, you took it upon yourself to go through wonbin’s following list in an attempt to find her.
you scroll past your own account, past the accounts of your mutual friends, and a few people who you presume are some of wonbin’s classmates.
when you finally stumble across sangah’s account, your body fills with dread before you even see a proper photo of her.
judging by her profile picture alone, you can tell that she’s pretty. you’re fully looking at her profile now, and your frown only deepens. she’s beautiful.
you shake your head as if it would help ease your racing mind. she’s beautiful, yes, you think, but looks aren’t everything. you find yourself childishly crossing your fingers that sangah had the personality of an evil witch, so that even if wonbin fell victim to her physical charm, he’d be pushed away by her true nature.
you let out a quiet scoff. you can’t believe you’re sitting here thinking badly about another girl just because she might have a crush on the same man you’ve been in love with since the day you met him. in the same sense, you can’t believe that when you say that sentence out loud, it actually sounds a bit reasonable. you blame sungchan, for a moment, drawing the inference that you wouldn’t feel so insecure right now if it hadn’t been for his previous teasing.
you can’t stop yourself when you click on one of sangah’s posts. she doesn’t have many, but the few that she has have seemed to gather thousands of likes. despite this, you take note of the fact that wonbin doesn’t have any of them liked— thank god, you think to yourself. you start to analyze her photos, the faces she makes at the camera, the outfits she wears, the way her hair is styled. when studying her facial expressions, you wonder if she’s made those same faces while looking at wonbin. when taking her outfits into consideration, you wonder if wonbin has seen her wearing any of them and thought she looked particularly nice. whilst examining her hair, you resist the urge to rip out your own. it’s perfect. she’s perfect.
she’s perfect, and from what you can tell, you aren’t anything like her. so what does that make you?
you move to close the app, feeling filled to the brim with self doubt when you suddenly freeze as your phone vibrates. you hesitantly open your dms and your eyes widen as they fall upon the newest message.
[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: why are u awake
your heart races and you momentarily contemplate if wonbin had somehow set up a security camera in your bedroom without your knowledge because how on earth did he know?
you don’t ponder on the matter for long, the aforementioned boy sending another message merely a few seconds later.
[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: u have ur activity status turned on btw
exhaling a breath of relief, you type a response to him.
[3:03 AM] you: why are U awake park wonbin
[3:03 AM] 1bin_02: i just woke up like 5 minutes ago. my y/n senses were tingling and my unconscious body felt a disturbance
[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: kiddinggg
[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: but fr why are u awake
you hold your breath as you type out your next response, choosing to be daring. you decide that, even if it’s only for a few seconds, you’re no longer going to be a coward.
[3:06 AM] you: i was thinking about u
[3:06 AM] 1bin_02: ditto
[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: i know im amazing and everything but don’t let me stop u from getting ur beauty rest 🙄 jk
[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: gn dummy
you decide against saying anything else, shutting off your phone with a sigh. you are a dummy, you think, and the boy who had just given you that title has no idea that it’s all because of him.
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you’re exhausted the next day, concluding that being awake at 3 in the morning despite knowing that you had a class at 8AM was not the best idea.
wonbin is quick to take note of this, poking you on your side as the two of you follow your usual route to your next lecture of the day. “i bet someone regrets staying up until 3AM, hm?” he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as you swat his hand away. “like you weren’t up at 3AM, too,” you mutter. he clicks his tongue in response. “that was only for a few minutes,” he says, “who knows how long you were awake for, though.”
before you’re forced to dignify wonbin with a response, anton and seunghan walk up to the two of you, the latter offering a wave while the former only smiles.
“where are we headed, guys?” seunghan asks, throwing an arm around wonbin. the boy attempts to shrug him off to no avail. “anton and i wanted to go get drinks and we were wondering if you guys wanted to come with,” he grins before quietly adding, “and maybe also pay for them.”
you laugh and wonbin turns to you upon hearing it, letting out a playful scoff of his own. “can’t, y/n has class in 10 minutes or so,” he turns to the two boys who now have their eyebrows raised in apprehension. “that’s where we were headed,” he finishes.
“and you’re walking her there,” anton nods, his words posing as more of a statement than a question. you can only dramatically roll your eyes. wonbin doesn’t seem to pick up any undertones, only nodding in response. “i might be able to tag along afterwards, though. no promises.”
“well, anton,” seunghan sighs, turning to his friend, “we’ll just have to take shotaro inste-“
the boy is cut off by the sound of a girlish voice calling out wonbin’s name. all 4 of you turn around in unison, and you feel like your heart has physically sunken into the floor. sangah.
wonbin’s at a loss for words for a moment and you want to run away more than anything. you’re not prepared to see the two of them interact, especially after looking at her instagram page last night. “hey, sangah,” is all he says, a smile plastered on his face that pains you to look at.
the girl is practically beaming. “what are you up to?” she grins, her eyes not daring to look anywhere but him. his eyes flicker to you momentarily, who is struggling to breathe.
“i’m walking her—” he gestures to you and sangah finally looks away from him, eyes now trained on yours, “to class. well, i was, before these two showed up.” wonbin waves a hand in anton and seunghan’s direction, the two boys adorning matching confused expressions on their faces. nobody moves a muscle for a few seconds and you’re afraid that your rapid heartbeat can be heard atop of the pin-drop silence.
“oh! my bad,” wonbin clears his throat, “guys, this is sangah,” he gestures towards the girl, “sangah, this is… guys.” he gestures towards his friends. “and y/n,” he gestures towards you for the second time, giving you a tap on the shoulder for good measure. sangah’s mouth forms an ‘o’ and she reaches out to shake your hand. you’re positive that if it weren’t for the freezing hallways of your university, your hands would be sweating, so you silently thank whoever’s in charge of the ac for seemingly always having it cranked up to the max. you and the girl shake hands, her smile noticably brighter than yours.
“nice to meet you, y/n,” she says. “you, too,” is all you’re able to respond with, smile tight.
“nice to meet you guys, too,” she waves at anton and seunghan with both hands and they wave back, offering their own respective greetings in return. awkward.
you cough, attempting to break the silence. “this has been fun,” you press your lips together for a second, “but i’ve gotta get to class. hope you guys have fun at that drink place later, or whatever,” you trail off, the last part of your sentence aimed towards anton and seunghan. “and it was nice meeting you, again,” you add, making eye contact with sangah. she smiles. you don’t say anything to wonbin as you attempt to squeeze past him, but he grabs your arm. “i’m walking with you, remember?” he says. you resist the urge to look at sangah or anyone else in your vicinity for that matter, surprised at his words. this random girl who’s obviously into him is standing only a few inches away and wonbin still insists on walking you to class.
“it’s okay,” you shake your head, unsure. wonbin can tell that you’re beginning to feel upset and he desperately wishes that sangah and even seunghan and anton were anywhere but here. “y/n-“ he starts, you cut him off. “it’s fine, wonbin,” you reaffirm. it isn’t, though.
you begin to walk in the direction of your class and release a breath that you hadn’t known you were holding. deep down, you wanted wonbin to disregard your words and resume walking with you, leaving sangah and his friends standing in the hallway. but wonbin was too polite for that, and you couldn’t even turn around to see if he had continued to engage in conversation with the 3 of them because you felt tears forming in your eyes. stupid, stupid, stupid, you think to yourself.
unbeknownst to you, sangah was able to sense the tension in the atmosphere before anyone had even said anything to her. she kisses her teeth, scratching the side of her head. “i should probably go, too,” she tells wonbin. the boy can tell that she would’ve liked to talk more, but he wasn’t looking to become friends or even acquaintances with her. doing that would only give her the wrong idea, and he didn’t want to have any bad blood with someone he’d be forced to see nearly everyday in class. the boy nods in understanding, giving her a wave. “nice.. talking to you,” he bids her farewell, unsure of what to say, because whatever had just transpired definitely did not qualify as a conversation. the girl waves back with an unwavering smile, walking in the opposite direction you had gone.
“oh, man,” seunghan lets out a laugh he had been holding in, “that was the worst. please don’t ever put me through anything like that again.” anton silently agrees, cringing.
“is it just me,” wonbin starts, ignoring his friend’s remark, “or did y/n seem kind of upset before she left?”
anton stretches his arms slightly, eyes looking anywhere but at his dark haired friend. “wonder why that might be,” he muses under his breath, but wonbin catches it. “what do you mean?” he pushes, looking his younger friend in the eye. anton puts his hands in the air in mock surrender.
“anton, what the hell do you mean?” wonbin asks again, voice tinged with annoyance. anton shakes his head, “figure it out.”
seunghan watches his friends go back and forth, a bit confused himself. much like sungchan, he seems to be completely oblivious when it comes to the way you feel about wonbin.
you’re currently sitting in class wondering why you even bothered to show up.
you knew before you even sat down that you wouldn’t be able to process a single word of the lecture, your mind thinking over your first official encounter with sangah.
ever since last night, you’ve started to dread moments like these— none of your friends being around to distract you, leaving you alone with your own miserable thoughts. it feels as though each minuscule moment of silence is filled with your insecurities being pushed to the forefront of your mind.
what did they talk about after you had left? did seunghan and anton decide to leave shortly after, leaving wonbin and sangah alone? did they grow closer in the small amount of time they were left together? even worse, what if the amount of time they spent together wasn’t small at all? oh god, what if they’re still together right now?
had anton, seunghan or, worst of all, wonbin decided to invite sangah to their aforementioned drink hangout? your mind drifts to the image of wonbin ordering a drink for sangah, the same way he always does for you, and you feel like bursting into tears similarly to the way you had almost done so on your way to class.
and sangah— god, you wanted to hate her so bad. your prayers that she had the personality of a wicked witch were thrown out the window the second she opened her mouth. she was so nice to you. the guy that she likes had openly expressed that he wanted to walk you to class and she still smiled at you. she’s got the most perfect appearance and most perfect attitude and you feel like you can’t compete with any of it.
you check your phone for the first time in approximately 30 minutes, eager for a distraction. you’re dismayed to see only 3 notifications, one from the boy who seems the root of every current problem in your life, and two from sungchan.
[10:04 AM] bin 🫶: everything ok??
[10:16 AM] sungchani: hey
[10:16 AM] sungchani: we’re all gonna hang out on friday night (as decided by me just now) and u will be coming! (also decided by me just now)
you open your phone, typing a quick response to wonbin about how everything is fine (lie) and sending another short message in hopes of steering the conversation in a different direction. you open the two messages from sungchan, shaking your head as if he’d be able to sense your attitude through the screen.
[10:48 AM] you: who’s “we” exactly…. and what will “we” be doing
[10:50 AM] sungchani: don’t act dumb girl… me, you, taro, seunghan, anton and wonbin obviously. was gonna see if eunseok and sohee could make it but i doubt eunseok would wanna and i think sohee’s doing some group assignment lolol
[10:51 AM] sungchani: as for your other question i was thinking about going to the movies yay or nay? (say yay)
[10:51 AM] you: pass
[10:52 AM] sungchani: perfect see u there!
you don’t bother responding to sungchan’s final message, knowing that no amount of opposition from you would deter him. he’d probably drag you all the way to the theater himself if he had to. but you really don’t want to go, feeling drained from the thoughts that have been plaguing your mind ever since sungchan mentioned sangah for the first time. you’d much rather spent your friday night in bed, trying to give your brain a much needed break. maybe if you really felt like torturing yourself, you’d pull up sangah’s instagram once more.
when class ends, you’re shocked to find anton waiting for you outside of the lecture hall. he’s holding a plastic cup filled with chai tea, leaning against the wall leisurely as he sips through an orange straw. he doesn’t look in your direction, which confuses you, because you’re undoubtedly the reason he’s currently standing outside of your classroom.
“lee anto-“ the boy in question cuts you off by lifting his index finger in front of your face, still not looking at you. you scoff in irritation, not wanting to deal with his antics in your current state.
“you’re coming on friday, yes?” he questions, his voice slightly above a whisper. “not if i don’t have to,” you say, your voice at a normal volume. anton, finally looking you in the eyes, presses his index finger to his lips as if to indicate that you need to be quieter. “you do have to,” he nods.
you pinch the bridge of your nose. “why the hell are you whispering?” you scowl, and he keeps his index finger on his lips. you groan before reluctantly lowering your voice to match his, despite the fact that you still don’t know why he wants you to do so. “what’s going on?” you inquire.
“you have to come on friday,” he repeats quietly, “and you’re gonna tell dark star that you’re in love with him.”
you blink. “who?” anton leans his head back in annoyance before mouthing, “PARK WONBIN.” you recoil for a myriad of reasons. “first of all, i’m not coming on friday,” your voice slightly increases in volume, “and even if i was, i most definitely would not use it as an opportunity to confess to wonbin. and why in the world did you just call him that?” you finish, exasperated.
anton only sips his drink, his aura calm and collected. “you’re going,” he answers pointedly, “because if you don’t, dark star is gonna find out either way.”
your eyes widen and you feel like all of the air has left your lungs. “what do you mean by that? you wouldn’t actually-“
“i would, though. if telling dark star about your crush on him would get you to stop pining after him like a fool, why wouldn’t i? and, in addition,” anton fully turns to you, his voice raising to a light mumble, “i saw the way you reacted when sarah started talking to him earlier.”
“it’s sangah,” you deadpan. anton waves his hand dismissively. “not the point. with the way you acted earlier, you would’ve thought they were getting married right in the middle of that hallway,” he sounds concerned as he speaks the words, not looking anywhere but at you.
“i’m not saying that wonbin— dark star, i mean, has a thing for sandra right now. frankly, i don’t think he cares about her at all,” anton continues, “but if you’re that worried about some random girl taking him away from you when they’ve known each other for like, a week, i think that’s a sign that it might be a good idea to tell him how you’re feeling.”
you look down, letting his words settle into your mind. “i’ll come on friday,” you nod, and the boy in front of you smiles at your words, “but i have to give the whole confessing to wonbin thing a bit more thought. i mean, it’s kind of sudden.” anton’s advice actually made sense, you think, but you’re not sure if you’re ready to tell the boy you’ve been harboring feelings for all this time that you’re in love with him on a random friday night.
“sudden?” anton asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “i think it’s long overdue. fire tornado hector thinks so, too,” he tells you.
you turn to him, dumbfounded. “where the hell are you getting these names from?!”
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friday night comes in the blink of an eye and you’re standing in the lobby of the theater with shotaro, anton, seunghan, and sungchan. wonbin is nowhere to be seen.
“i told him 7PM sharp,” sungchan murmurs impatiently, checking his watch. shotaro turns to anton, jokingly hitting the younger boy on the arm with a laugh. “imagine he just decided to stay home,” he chuckles, “i bet y/n would be relieved.”
“why would she be relieved?” seunghan intrudes curiously. anton shrugs. “i told her she had to confess to wonbin tonight,” he says casually, as if he hadn’t just revealed your not-so-secret secret to an unsuspecting seunghan. the older boy’s eyebrows raise at anton’s words, his lips parting.
“you like wonbin?” he questions you eagerly. “dude, i can’t believe you didn’t know by now,” anton answers in your place as you press your lips together. “and we won’t be using the name wonbin when he arrives. he’s dark star. the codename helps when you’re trying to be discreet,” he finishes.
“yeah, because you know all about being discreet, right?” you reply, voice laced with sarcasm. anton knows that you’re referring to the way he had exposed your feelings for wonbin merely 30 seconds ago, avoiding your gaze as he whistles idly.
“sorry i’m late, guys,” the man of the hour exhales as he walks up to the 5 of you. sungchan studies wonbin, unimpressed. the latter can sense his older friend’s agitation, clicking his tongue. “you’ll forgive me once you find out why i’m late,” he assures, “look who i brought with me.”
you can’t prevent the way your heartbeat escalates, both at the mere presence of wonbin and the words that have just left his mouth. you’re unsure if you even want to find out who he’s brought with him, fearing the worst.
“sohee! eunseok!” you hear sungchan exclaim, excitedly making his way over to the two figures that have just entered the theater. he wraps his lengthy arms around both of them simultaneously.
“guess our invitations got lost in the mail, huh?” eunseok muses, returning his friend’s embrace. the three of them return to where you and the others are standing and sungchan scratches the back of his neck. “my bad, man,” he utters bashfully, “the movie we’re watching is pretty lame. didn’t think you’d be into it.”
“still, it’s an excuse to see you guys,” eunseok shrugs, turning to greet everyone else. sohee does the same, wrapping his arms around you before anyone else.
“y/n! it’s been forever,” he grins, you return it. “it’s been… 2 weeks,” you tell him, hugging him back nonetheless. “i still missed you, though,” you hum. “stop hogging him, y/n!” seunghan teases, “we haven’t seen him in weeks either!”
the two of you release each other, and when you turn, wonbin is at your side. he taps your arm. “why don’t you greet me like that?” he feigns jealousy, pursing his lips. you smile at him, hoping to mask your nervousness, “i see you everyday.”
he rolls his eyes. “that doesn’t mean you can’t miss me.”
“i always do,” you say absentmindedly. by the time your words register, wonbin is already grinning. “ditto,” he mutters, his words meant for only you to hear.
he turns away before you can comment, and eunseok takes his place beside you. he wraps an arm around your shoulders, greeting you. you think nothing of his actions before he leans down, angling his head so that it’s directly next to your ear. “i heard about healing michael’s plan,” he whispers, “the one about getting you to confess to dark star.”
“please don’t start this,” you plead, “i cannot deal with these nicknames right now. and how do you know about that?”
“um,” he starts, moving his head away from yours, “obviously healing michael filled me in on everything. just because we don’t physically see each other everyday doesn’t mean we don’t have a group chat.” he moves back to the previous topic, “he threatened to tell dark star about how you’re madly in love with him, right? he’s bluffing,” eunseok explains, “if you confess to dark star tonight, it should be because you really love him. not because anton frightened you into doing it.”
you nod at eunseok’s words, unsure. “and,” he continues, “it shouldn’t be about some other girl that might like him, either.” he takes note of the way your eyes widen a fraction. “yeah, anton told me about that, too,” he nods as you make a mental reminder to yell at anton later for airing out your business.
“what i’m saying, y/n, is make sure that you’re telling him how you feel, not for anyone else, but for you. well, and for him. and for you and him, together,” eunseok concludes, “don’t let healing michael or sandy get in the way of it.”
“it’s sangah,” you sigh, in awe of the fact that you’ve had to correct both him and anton. sungchan appears to have heard your final words, perking up at the mention of wonbin’s classmate.
“sangah? we’re talking about sangah?” he blurts out, turning to wonbin with a smile. “bro, we totally should’ve invited her,” he jokes, slapping his friend on the arm, “seeing her and wonbin interact in the theater would’ve been hilarious.” everyone grows tense at sungchan’s teasing— he was somehow still the only one unaware of your feelings for wonbin.
wonbin only shakes his head in response, his first instinct being to look over at you. you’re wearing that same disheartened look on your face as the first time you found out about sangah, and he can hardly breathe. his eyes narrow at the sight of eunseok’s arm still hanging off your shoulders.
“sungchan, when does the movie start? we’ve been standing here for a while,” shotaro states, attempting to alleviate the situation. “oh, we still have about,” sungchan checks the time on his watch, “ten minutes before the trailers even start playing,” he responds.
shotaro ushers the group over to the concession counter, quickly making some excuse about everyone needing to choose their snacks for the movie. “amateurs,” sungchan mutters, “who doesn’t bring their own snacks to the movies?”
wonbin finds his place beside you again, briefly studying your features. he notices the way you stand stiffly in your spot and the slight wrinkle between your brows. “hey,” he tries to get your attention. your eyes soften as they meet his that are flooded with worry. “i’m sorry,” he frowns, “about what happened back there. i don’t know why he keeps mentioning her.”
you’re puzzled and, yet again, asking yourself if he’s apologizing because he knows that you have feelings for him or if it’s because he still thinks you’re upset that he didn’t tell you about sangah sooner.
you prayed that he wasn’t apologizing due to the former, but why would he even need to apologize if it was the latter? if nothing was going on between wonbin and sangah, he had no reason to tell you about her. you press your lips into a tight line. maybe that was it— something was going on between them. that’s why he’s saying sorry to you right now, because he regrets not telling you before when you’re supposed to be one of his closest friends.
and that’s all you’ll ever be to him, because you were too much of a coward to confess to him when you had the chance. you think about how disappointed your friends are going to be once you break the news to them that you wouldn’t be confessing to wonbin tonight, or ever.
“don’t apologize, wonbin,” you quietly tell him, and he wonders why it seems as though you’re about to cry. he shakes his head, getting the sense that you misunderstood his words. he looks back at your mutual friend group, seeing that they’re all preoccupied. wonbin seizes the opportunity, grabbing your hand and taking you to a secluded area of the theater.
“please don’t tell me not to apologize,” he breathes, “because i have so much to apologize to you for.”
you’re confused and concerned, your lips parting slightly. you don’t have the chance to savor the feeling of wonbin’s hand still holding yours because you’re mentally preparing yourself for whatever words he’s about to say. this is it, you tell yourself. you stare at the ground, anticipating the feeling of disappointment and rejection.
“i like you so much.”
you stop breathing as the words leave wonbin’s mouth. you’re terrified to look up, unsure if you’d even heard him correctly. he responds to your unvoiced worries by repeating the statement.
“i like you so much, and i’m sorry for holding it in this long,” he says breathlessly, “i’m sorry for letting sungchan talk about sangah all the time, because i didn’t want you to think that i could ever like anyone else.”
he continues despite your silence. “and i’m sorry for telling you all of this in a movie theater, of all places. i’ve been psyching myself up for weeks, but i couldn’t stand the thought of you not knowing any longer. i’m tired of misunderstandings.”
he finally takes a deep breath, and you look up at him for the first time. “are you serious?” is all you’re able to say. you want to be 100% sure that your mind isn’t being as cruel as it normally is when it comes to park wonbin.
he nods, appearing to be just as nervous as you are, and you think that’s good enough of an indicator that he’s not joking.
“you fool,” you breath out in utter disbelief, not knowing if your words are directed at wonbin or yourself. the boy looks troubled for a moment before he hears a noise similar to a sob leave your mouth.
you hide your face with your hands. “i was supposed to be the one to confess to you.”
it’s wonbin’s turn to be silent now, listening to you rant. “it was this whole thing— healing michael, dark star.. eunseok knew about it, and shotaro..” you trail off. your words don’t even make sense to yourself, and you doubt they make any sense to the boy in front of you. “my god, wonbin— i’ve liked you since the day i met you!” you cry, hands still obstructing your vision.
wonbin hesitantly takes it upon himself to grab your wrists, removing your hands from your face. “do you mean that?” he asks, trying to meet your gaze.
you don’t look him in the eye as you continue rambling. “i was so scared,” you tell him, “sungchan mentioned her out of nowhere that day and i was so scared. i thought she was your secret girlfriend, or something.” you feel stupid for telling him all of this, finally admitting to your jealousy.
“when i saw her for the first time, i thought it was over,” you shake your head, “someone so pretty having a crush on you? i felt like nothing next to her. sungchan even told me that she wrote down her instagram and casually handed it to you— i’d kill to be that confident in myself,” you’re not even paying attention to the words leaving your mouth anymore, wanting to get everything you’ve been holding in out of your system.
when you finally look at wonbin’s face, he looks sad, which startles you. you’re afraid that you’ve just killed his mood with your venting. “i’m sorry— i didn’t me-“ you’re interrupted by wonbin pulling you to his chest, shaking his head at your words. “you fool,” he repeats your words from minutes ago. “i can’t believe you’ve been feeling that way about yourself.”
he keeps you in his embrace as if you’d run away if he were to let go. “i can’t think of anyone prettier than you,” he mutters, “or nicer, or funnier. or anything, really, because i think of you more than anyone else. i guess it’s my fault, kind of. i could’ve expressed it in ways other than walking you to class and ordering dumb overpriced drinks for you.” you let out a quiet laugh at his last sentence and he smiles, pulling away slightly so he’s able to see your face.
“i guess we’re both kind of stupid,” you conclude, earning a nod from the dark haired boy. “only when it comes to you,” he says, “i happen to think i’m very intelligent on every other occasion.”
when you finally regroup with everyone, they’re all wearing looks of disappointment on their faces. upon asking what happened, eunseok shoves a thumb in sungchan’s direction, the brown haired boy adorning a sheepish expression. “this fucker got the time wrong. the movie was at 6:15, not 7:15,” eunseok grimaces, “i better get a refund for my ticket.”
“you didn’t even pay for it,” wonbin says, “i did. sohee’s, too.”
anton, having been the first one to notice both yours and wonbin’s disappearance from the group, narrows his eyes at the boy. “and where were you?” he raises a brow, attempting to look intimidating. wonbin dismisses him with the wave of a hand.
before you and wonbin decided to rejoin your friends, you had to tell him not to hold your hand, much to his dismay. only after discovering the reason why, did he reluctantly agree.
you stand as far away from wonbin as possible, putting on a melancholy act. shotaro is the first to take notice of this, putting a hand on your shoulder. “did you tell him?” he questions, your silence serving as an answer in itself. eunseok overhears, looking at you with pity in his eyes.
when anton finally sees the distance put between you and wonbin, he concludes that you weren’t able to tell him about your feelings. he sighs, shaking his head.
as if on cue, you look at wonbin with determination burning in your eyes, beginning to advance towards him. the group is silent as they watch the two of you curiously.
“dark star,” you begin straightforwardly, “i’m in love with you.” wonbin tries concealing his laughter as he swiftly takes in the reactions of his friends. eunseok smiles knowingly while anton and shotaro are wide-eyed. seunghan wears an amused expression, sohee’s eyebrows are raised, and on top of it all, sungchan looks incredibly confused.
wonbin, keeping up the act, covers his mouth in mock astonishment. “did you guys hear that?” he turns to his friends, who are now all aware that they’re being pranked. “my girlfriend is in love with me!” wonbin beams, “metal blaze, i accept your confession.”
eunseok clicks his tongue, nodding. “metal blaze, that’s a good one,” he notes under his breath.
“alright, we get it,” anton groans, “it took you guys long enough.” he turns to you, unable to stop a smile from forming. “i hope you know i was never actually going to tell him myself. i only said that in hopes of scaring you into telling him.”
you nod, “eunseok told me that already. and it wasn’t me that confessed to wonbin— he confessed to me.” everyone is shocked at your comment, seunghan walking behind wonbin and giving him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. you purposefully skip over the fact that you all but cried to wonbin immediately after said confession about how much you liked him in return, and he pinches your side.
“you know, when you guys disappeared, i made a bet with shotaro that you guys were probably making out somewhere,” eunseok adds, “he said you guys were probably just in the middle of the whole confessing thing. i owe him seven bucks now.” shotaro pats him on the back with false sympathy.
as the topic of conversation shifts to something else, sungchan’s jaw is still practically on the floor. he looks at the way wonbin has his arm around your shoulders, head practically buried in your neck. he can’t stop himself from blurting out his next words.
“has y/n had a crush on wonbin this entire time?!”
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AUTHOR’S NOTE! congrats to u if u survived reading all that ohhh lord i promise i’ll make y/n less unbearable next time but for now u guys are just gonna have to find it in ur hearts to forgive me… also it’s 5am rn and idk if i hate this fic umm we’ll see if i regret posting this when i wake up tmr
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earthtooz · 7 months
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x : QUIET LOVE :*+゚
in which: neuvillette doesn't understand human emotion, but a quiet night after a bustling gala with you might help him.
warnings: fluff, gn!reader, pining neuvi but he doesn't know it, quiet walks along the beach at night, gentlemanly flirting bc it's neuvillette, hand kisses lol
a/n: sacrificial fic because neuvillette is not coming home, so i poured my blood, sweat, and tears into this, even if it's not all that. ALSO, this was inspired by a wip on @gum-iie's page (hi gumiie >_<), so i hope you all enjoy !! i tried my hand at the vision i saw.
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Gatherings in Fontaine are nothing short of magnificent. The nation of justice will never shy away from a party that reeks of grandeur and extraordinaire, with crystal chandeliers dripping from the ceiling, flowing gowns, and slicked-back hair. With an archon as dramatic as Furina herself, what else can the citizens of Fontaine expect?
Except for a long life such as Neuvillette himself, he has seen this scene one too many times. Gazing out amongst the sea of people, there is an ocean of unfamiliar faces, a sight that doesn’t bring him much peace. It’s not that Neuvillette does not enjoy interacting with humans- even if he’s not so good at doing so, but being amongst so many at once is the unpleasant part.
Despite his distaste for these kinds of bustling environments, he still thinks it’s good manners to attend, even if he will leave after an hour or two. 
Yet, it has been half an hour past the two hour mark, and yet the Iudex still has not seen himself out because there is a particular someone that he is hoping to catch the eye of. Someone who is worth all this extra trouble and socialisation. 
The melusines frequently run back to Neuvillette, concern and curiosity animated in their expressions as they ask their beloved father figure why he is still present. Their questions get brushed off by the Chief of Justice, who merely thanks them for checking up on him before telling them that there is no need to be worried, he is merely waiting for something. Or rather, someone. 
Only at the third hour since the party’s commencement, does he get what he wants: your attention. 
“Monsieur Neuvillette!” A voice cuts through the crowd and straight to him, causing him to turn around, eyes dancing wildly around the room to search for the source. He effortlessly finds your gaze and watches as you come closer to him, outfit flowing behind you and he decides that the crystals of the chandelier are no match against the ones that dance in your eyes. You are more radiant than the purest diamond and Neuvillette can’t find it in himself to glance away. 
You are perhaps the most ethereal being he has ever seen in his long life. 
What Furina promised him has arrived. Neuvillette can enjoy the night happily now.
“Y/n,” he greets, curt and polite, but the smile on his face speaks volumes. It tells a tune of subtle delight and enthusiasm mulled over for the sake of appearances and composition, and it is a melody that you are deaf to. In fact, the melusines are perhaps some of the only souls who can read his silent song of adoration but instead of meddling, they have resigned themselves to the corner of the hall, watching their beloved Chief Justice.  
“I did not expect to see you tonight,” you murmur, placing your empty glass of wine onto the plate of a passing waiter. “What a pleasant surprise.”
He wants to say something charming, perhaps something like telling you how lovely you look tonight or how absolutely magnetic you are, but the words fall short and Neuvillette panics briefly, scrambling to continue the conversation. “It is important to keep up social relations, after all. Not attending would be problematic.”
“An utmost scandal for the Iudex, no less.” There is a teasing glimmer in your eye, one that most people keep away from him but you are an exception; you always have been with how you regard him. Many respect him but also fear him, he is revered but avoided by the public, people speak of him but never would do so causally to his face. It is a particular dance that Neuvillette has become accustomed to, and you have slotted yourself in a position that none usually take: right beside him. 
He doesn’t completely understand human emotions just yet, but you evoke one that he cannot describe. 
“How has your night been?” Neuvillette asks.
“Tiring, fleeting, boring,” you murmur, expression melting into something more fatigued. “I want to leave, monsieur, is that too frank of a confession?”
“No, not at all,” he sees an opportunity and scrambles to get the words out, “may I accompany you or will I be overstepping?” 
You blink at him before a small, cheery smile pulls on your lips. “I would love your company, but I only ask that we leave at this very moment because it is getting far too stuffy in here.”
“Then time is of the essence.” Neuvillette extends his arm for you to take and he relishes in the feeling of when you do. 
Leaving the venue and helping you down numerous flights of stairs, the lighting and allure outside is far more romantic than it is inside. The street lamps of Fontaine were made for functionality so that no citizen could walk around unassuming and unaware of the darkness, and never were they made with the intent of illuminating anyone’s beauty. Yet here you stand before him, radiant under the warm tones of the lamp with the evening breeze flowing through your hair. 
Moreover it is quiet out here. There is no one to bother the two of you, no melusines, no meddling Archon who lives for drama, no loud music and chatter, just you and him, together. It is a contrast so stark that he fears reality will shatter any second. 
Naïve to his internal turmoils, you tug at his arm gently. “Let us go for a walk along the river,” you propose. A muted feeling of enthusiasm flows through Neuvillette and he readily agrees to your suggestion, more than happy to indulge in the gentle kisses of the sea breeze on his face.
The stroll is peaceful and quiet, neither of you speak too much but it is not awkward in the slightest. Your gowns trail behind the two of you with each step, dancing in sync with the wind as your slow pace allows the two of you to bathe in the light of the moon. 
Although Neuvillette does not want the night to end nor to let you go, the amount of yawns you’ve suppressed since leaving is alerting him of your fatigue, and he’ll feel bad if he keeps you from your sleep any longer. 
Finally, with one long yawn that you were not able to shut away, he stops you in your tracks. “Tired?” The Iudex asks.
You look up at him with eyes forced open, wider than they usually would be. “Just a little, but the night has been lovely so far, I’d hate for it to end.”
“Please, if you need the rest then you should rest.”
“Thank you for your concern, however-”
“There will be no objections. Let me walk you home.”
The moonlight casts a shade of melancholy over your features and the last glance you give to the ocean is nothing but full of longing. You surrender reluctantly. “Alright.”
You two make it back to the last aquabus just in time, and you’re the only passengers onboard. There is occasional chatter with the conductor, as well as private conversations, but Neuvillette has no qualms just spending the ride in silence, admiring you whilst you gaze out at the beautiful landscape of Fontaine. 
“There are so many stars out tonight.”
He glances away from you. “So there are.” Then he makes a brave leap. “There is one right beside me, too.”
“Me?” Your voice is strained with disbelief and your hold on his arms tightens just a little. There is momentary silence before laughter- a quiet sort of laugh, shy and not at all mocking or condescending. “Thank you,” you whisper, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I’m very flattered you think so highly of me.” 
It becomes quiet again after that but your hand never leaves his. If anything, Neuvillette feels you even more now, your warmth pressed up against his side is addicting, he cannot help but want more of it; he cannot help but want more of you. He wants more nights like this with you, days even- just as long as he can spend some more time with you, he’ll be grateful.
Humans and the complexity of the emotions they feel are something Neuvillette still can’t get a grasp of, but you fill him with something so inherently humane. Sitting beside you on an aquabus that is minutes away from its end is a bittersweet reminder of how little time there is until the evening ends, and this mesmerising evening becomes nothing but a memory. How irrational it is to yearn for something so temporary, but that is what makes it beautiful.
The walk back to your neighbourhood is quick, too quick for Neuvillette’s liking, but the smile you give him when you stop before your door is heartwarming. “Thank you dearly for walking me home, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you begin. “You have been the best part about this lively evening.” 
The Chief Justice has never had a way with words, rather, they have always been his enemy, so instead of speaking to convey what he feels, Neuvillette takes your hand instead and places a kiss on your knuckles. A gentlemanly act to many, but he holds and kisses you with such firm intention that it makes you dizzy. It makes you think deeper about whether or not there are underlying intentions to address, and it’s exhilarating questioning what exactly you are to the Chief Justice of Fontaine. 
For now, you’ll find contentment in the moonlight dream that was this evening, and he’ll engrave the feeling of you so close to him into his memory. 
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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blue-jisungs · 7 months
Note
Hey! Loved the BTS arguing abt paying could u do it for skz??
arguing about paying ♡
author's note. thank uuu!! i hope u’ll like this one ^_^
psssst anon is talking about this thing here
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┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]
yeah actually you won’t be able to pay for anything
like, ever
he’s just ??? using the leader card + it’s just how he is + the gentleman in him would rather die than let you pay
so even when you whine that you hate it and you can handle paying on your own
he’s cooing and shaking his head while the payment is already processed
and if you pout about it later, he’ll make sure to kiss the pout away ^_^
┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]
would rather bite his hand off than let you pay on a date
or bite you when you were about to pay…? totally did not happen at least twice…?
he’d get actually offended if you even offered to pay for the meal you two had
so he pays with a :] look on his face while you’re grumpy abt it
“what kind of boyfriend would i be then, hm?” asks and promises that in return, you can choose what you’re gonna have for dessert
whatever logic that is
┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]
you know that half amused half shocked half offended face he makes??
help idk how to explain it 😭
yeah that’s exactly the face he makes when you pay for your cosmetics
he’s like???
“you just offended my ego”
help ??
he’s SO dramatic about like ,, acts as if you shot him
he’ll have his hand on the small of your back, carrying your bags and he just pays for you with a goofy grin
“let me spoil my baby, hm?” is all he says with a handsome smile and you cave in bc he just has that effect on you…
┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]
drama llama.
gasps like he’s running out of air as you put the card to the scanner
you and the cashier are both like 🤨
when you leave the store he’s whining and clinging onto you as if you’re dying
for your own sake pls let him pay next time,, always
will actually threaten you to hold his breath next time 🧍‍♀️
bc he just wants to spoil you >:)
┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]
ji would let you pay for your makeup shopping
but then he’d feel bad :(
so next time when you’re about to pay for some clothes, he’s softly grabbing your hand and offers to pay
he literally looks like this > 🥺 so you have to agree
and that’s his trick: puppy eyes. no one can resist them :”)
┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]
“there’s naur way i’m letting you pay for all of that” is what he says when you two ordered like a half of the menu
so your response is to split the bill
he starts LAUGHING SO LOUD and refuses 😑
so he pays but “promises” you that you’ll be the one paying next time
and NEXT TIME looks literally the same
“nooo i ate most of it, i’ll pay” mhm.
he’ll come up with every excuse in the book so you don’t pay <\3
┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]
he’s making a poker face as soon as you even start asking if you should pay
and even when he’ll say no and you’ll STILL try
welp…
the waiter in the cafe said that your order was already payed.
and same thing happens literally everytime
seungmo somehow manages to pay in advance so um… good luck
┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]
will cry scream throw up if you say that you want to pay
eyes wide, mouth agape
“if you pay…… i’m breaking up with you!!!” he whines and adds something about his chivalry being dishonoured
um so yeah another whiny dramatic baby
and if you cave in and let him pay, he’s the happiest ever
acting as if he just saved your life and not paid for the bagel you got
masterlist <3
taglist.  @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @mirxzii ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang ,, @vnsux
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luveline · 5 months
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Blurb idea jade!!! Can I request a drunk reader with one of the mauraders where she comes home and he’s expecting her to be all kisses and he’s getting ready to let her down bc he won’t make out with her drunk but she just comes and screams CUDDLES!!! And just wants lots of cuddles!! Omg bonus if it’s like a reader that’s touch starved or someone who usually doesn’t say that
ty for requesting!
Your knock to be let in is somehow hesitant and sloppy at the same time. It starts quiet, ends louder, and when Remus opens the door you almost fall straight through the doorway into his arms. 
You smell unbearably of cherry, but you have kind hands. “Hello!” you say, cupping his neck. 
“Shh,” he says gently. “James is sleeping upstairs.” 
“Oh, gotcha,” you whisper. “Sorry, James. Should we not go upstairs?”
“Where will we sleep?” he asks. 
“On the settee? We have fun on the settee all the time–” 
“Don't say it like that,” Remus chastens, laughing as he pulls you into the living room. He has a feeling he'll have to fend you off while you're tipsy, and it's not that you don't listen (when he says no, you'd never dream of trying your luck), but the issue is that you being drunk gravely inhibits your ability to understand language. Sometimes, he has to shout a bit. 
Even now you're giggling and traipsing after him, asking a question, getting an answer, and asking again. “Did you miss me?”
“I always miss you,” he says, nudging you down into the settee. 
There are enough fat cushions behind you to soften the fall, but you still laugh, accusing him of violence, “You're so mean,” you say, “pushing me around. How could you?” 
Remus bites back a smile. He loves you, clearly, but you have issues with intimacy he has yet to unravel, if it's possible at all, and he doesn't mind how you are nor the time it might take, but booze is a little like a fast forwarding button. You want to be touched so badly it eats you up, and sober all it takes is a hand on your arm to make you shiver, but drunk? You're pulling at his shirt trying to get him between your legs. 
“Dove, you're more drink than girl right now,” he says, holding your wrists tightly, lest you win. 
“Okay? Give me a cwtch, don't be so selfish,” you say. 
He puts his knee between your legs and leans down. “Oh, I'm selfish?” he asks, bringing his hand to your face, fingers curled, fingertips stroking up and down your cheek. Your skin is boiling hot. 
“You're not?” you ask.
Remus relents, dropping the mass of his weight on top of you, ready to climb off of you again if you aren't happy. His arms needle under your back and you wriggle down to bring him closer, clearly pleased at the position, delight evident on your face. “Is this what you wanted?” he asks. 
You giggle happily. It echoes, and he gives you a quick kiss to show he isn't mad before he shushes you. “James is sleeping, dove,” he says again, “you have to be quiet.” 
“I am being quiet, you're the one shouting.” You drape your arms over his shoulders, nuzzling your face against his neck. “Just cwtch me, fuck’s sake.” 
He squeezes you hard enough to make you laugh again, panic and humour at once; these types of play fights usually end in you breathless and tickled half to death. “Watch your mouth.” 
“Okay, alright.” You press your parted lips to his neck. “Rub my back? Least you can do now you've broken it.” 
He was going to anyway. 
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prythianpages · 2 months
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When I Kissed the Teacher | Cassian
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summary: After shameless flirting and one drunken confession, you decide to finally own up to your feelings for Cassian.
warnings: fluff, some suggestiveness/reader thirsting for Cas bc who wouldn't??
a/n: @daycourtofficial suggested this song and idea so big shoutout to her! Though I did a poll and Az won (you can find his version here), I decided to also write a version for Cas as a huge thank you for following me! I just reached 1k ♥ For the sake of this fic, Nesta and Cas are just good friends.
This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (:
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Cassian strolls along the hallway, a carefree whistle coming from his lips. A towel is draped casually over his shoulder, barely doing anything to cover his well-defined upper half. A satisfying workout has left his muscles pleasantly fatigued and a content smile on his face. He usually trains in the morning but unfortunately, he had to rearrange his schedule to accompany Azriel on trip to Windhaven.
A creaking sound halts his steps and he turns his head to find you, his favorite trainee, struggling to open the door that leads to the infamous ten-thousand steps. Cassian watches you struggle for a moment longer, suppressing a laugh at the way you huff out in exasperation, allowing your forehead to fall against the door in defeat.
“What are you doing?”
Your head whips around in response, a dizzying blur causing a momentary loss of balance. As your entire weight leans against the door, it finally yields with a creak. Both the house and Cassian spring to action. A sudden gust of wind sweeps through, slamming the door shut and sending you stumbling forward instead.
Cassian catches you in his arms, one hand securing the small of your back while the other cradles the back of your head. Seemingly unfazed by the dangerous fate you almost, quite literally, threw yourself into, you appear nonchalant as you pull back slightly.
"I'm going out.”
As you speak, Cassian catches the subtle scent of ripe red berries coming from your breath. He recognizes it as Mor’s favorite wine. His hazel eyes graze over your body, taking in your thin cami top and shorts with heart patterns that match the hearts on the fluffy slippers you wear.
“Are you drunk?” He asks, his voice warm with amusement.
You don’t answer him, seemingly distracted by his bare chest. A thin line of sweat makes the black ink of his tattoos glisten, enticing you to lean in and have a taste. If you had drank a bit more, perhaps, you would’ve. But for now, you're content to place your hands on his chest instead, heart fluttering at the sensation of the hard muscle beneath. 
“Mmm, you’re absolutely delicious. Has anyone told you, you should be shirtless more often?”
Cassian chuckles. He’s caught you staring at him during training, often flexing his muscles on purpose for you to give you a better show. And it’s no secret that he finds you attractive too, especially after you coaxed it out of him one morning.
“Get off that pretty ass of yours and give me fifty.”
Your mouth falls open but it’s not the fifty push ups you’re gasping over. “You think I’m pretty?”
His gaze lowers, trailing down your body appreciatively before lifting back up to meet your eyes again. His lips twitch upwards and there’s a sparkle in his hazel depths. “I think you’re many things, sweetheart. Doesn’t keep you from giving me fifty. On the floor. Now.”
Flirting is common between you two but even then, there’s no way you’d say those words sober to him. “Yup, you’re drunk,” Cassian says. He makes a mental note to chide Mor the next morning for letting you out of her sight.
“And you’re Cassian. My favorite teacher.” You grin lazily at him, a finger grazing a path over to where his heart beats. Your touch creates a ripple of warmth, prompting his heart to lurch forward, craving for more of it. 
Get it together, he thinks as he reminds himself that you’re drunk.
“Mr. Cassian. My Mr. Cassian. My Cassian.”
A flush of warmth paints his cheeks at your slur of words and he doesn’t care if you don’t mean those words the way he’d like you to. You probably won’t even remember tonight and it’s this thought that gives him the courage to reciprocate. His fingers grip your chin lightly, thumb sweeping over your cheek in a tender caress.
“Your Cassian,” he affirms gently, a soft smile playing on his lips. If only you knew how much he adored you... 
Hearts take shape in your eyes, softening your gaze.  You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer into your drunken embrace. Cassian responds, his hands securing beneath your knees, effortlessly lifting you. A playful giggle escapes you, only to be hushed when you notice him carrying you away from the door.
“No, Cas,” you shake your head at him. Attempting to squirm away, you insistently gesture back towards the door. Yet, his arms around you tighten, holding you in place. “We’re going the wrong way! Rita’s is that way!”
“We’re going to bed.”
Your squirming stops and you draw back, looking up at him with a flirtatious flutter of your eyelashes. “We are?”
“You–you’re going to bed. Your own bed, where you will sleep…alone,” Cassian finds himself stammering as he avoids your gaze.
“I don’t want to be alone,” you reply and he can hear the frown in your voice. “I want to be with you.”
“Cauldron boil me,” Cassian curses, quickening his steps. The faster he can get you to your room, the better.
When Cassian finally reaches your room, he thanks the house for opening the door for him. Your silence prompts him to assume you’ve fallen asleep. As he carries you to your bed, his eyes wander around your room, taking in the small details. His heart swells with warmth when he catches a glimpse of the book he had given you over training methods–his favorite book–sitting on your nightstand.
Cassian pulls the covers off your bed and feels you stir in his hold, arms and legs tightening around him as if you could sense his impending departure. He literally has to pry your grip off of him so he can lay you down on your bed. He tucks you in with such tenderness that it sobers you up for just a moment, eyes blinking open. “Can’t you stay?”
The pout you give him is endearing and tugs at his heartstrings.  “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“But–”
He brushes your hair back with a soft expression on his face that would’ve had you melting, if you weren’t upset by his rejection. 
"Not when you’re like this.”
“But…,” you begin again. A pleading look fills your eyes and there’s a subtle wobble of your lips. “What if I tell you I love you?”
Cassian pauses. His eyes study your face in contemplation. He would love nothing more than to slip under the covers with you but he remains firm in his resolve. So with a soft pat to your head, he says, “tell me when you’re sober, sweetheart.”
**
“Tell me when you’re sober, sweetheart,” you mock Cassian’s voice with a scowl the next morning. Contrary to Cassian’s belief, you remembered everything. “Ugh! He might’ve well just told me he hates me!”
“Or maybe, I don’t know, hear me out,” Nesta begins, raising her hands before you could interrupt. She sits across from you on your bed, already dressed in her training leathers. “He wants you to confess to him when you’re sober.”
Emerie, who leans against your desk, giggles at the look on your face. “Don’t be rational, Nesta,” she says in a teasing tone. “He totally hates her.”
The door to your room creaks open and Gywn steps in with a slight frown. “Hurry up! We’re going to be late for our morning session,” she then looks at you, her frown deepening when she takes note of your disheveled state. “Y/n, what are you still doing in your pajamas?”
 “I’m not going today. Tell them I’m hungover,” you tell her with a grimace, pretending to be sick. Nesta rolls her eyes at your dramatics. “I think I’m going to throw up. You should go before I do.”
Gwyn glances toward Emerie, who had also been drinking with you and Mor last night. She then turns back to you with narrowed eyes. “Emerie seems just fine to me.”
Emerie shrinks back with a small blush. The two of you exchange a look. Yes, you had been drinking with Mor and Emerie last night. But you had done most of the drinking while your friend snuck off with the pretty blonde.
“Leave her be,” Emerie says as she stands up straight, covering for you the same way you had for her.  “I’m sure Cas will understand, given the state he found her in last night.”
“What? Don’t tell me you confessed your feelings while drunk,” Gwyn says with an amused giggle. As the silence stretches, her eyes widen, head turning to you. You're quick to avoid her gaze, prompting her to remark, "No wonder he's blushing like a fool today."
That makes your head perk up almost immediately, eyes finding hers only to see the playful glint in her eyes. Nesta and Emerie laugh while you fling one of your pillows at Gwyn. She catches it with ease and throws it back at you. Surrendering to the inevitable teasing, you let the pillow hit you, collapsing onto the comforting expanse of your bed, hoping the blankets might swallow you whole.
“Can you all just leave me be?” You groan. “I’d like to wallow in my own embarrassment alone.”
"Fine," Nesta sighs, patting your leg as she hops off your bed. "But don't think about skipping tomorrow's training!”
**
The next morning dawns, and you find yourself unable to face training, still grappling with the aftermath of your drunken confession to Cassian. Out of all the fish in the sea of Velaris, your heart chose to hyperfixate on him. Your teacher. 
As night falls, you're contemplating skipping training again. It's only another day, and with Friday approaching, the weekend promises a much-needed break. This extra time might be just what you need to gather the courage to face him once more.
Turning in for the night, you cast a glance towards your nightstand. There, beside the book Cassian lent you, sits an untouched hangover tonic. It appeared the morning after your first skipped training session. When you thanked your friends, they had only looked back at you in confusion. You didn’t have to guess who left it there for you after that.
With a sigh, you close your eyes. One of these days, you'll tell him you dream of him every night. Until then, you savor the bittersweet anticipation and allow sleep to pull you into its embrace.
In the sweet haven of your dream, you and Cassian stroll through the center of Velaris as the city shimmers around you. Cassian laughs, the sound echoing like a sweet melody. The two of you then find yourselves in a meadow bathed in moonlight. A sea of luminescent flowers surround you and as the wind blows around you softly, Cassian sneezes. It’s your turn to laugh then.
Cassian rolls his eyes at you and then reaches for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. He pulls you into a dance with a smile that fills your heart with warmth and–
Your body stirs at the sudden loss of warmth and the soft smile that was on your lips morphs into a frown. Something seizes your ankles, yanking you down the bed. With a sudden jolt, your eyes fly open, and a scream escapes your throat. It takes a moment to recgonize the hazel eyes glaring down at you.
“I hope that dream of yours was beautiful because you’re about to have a nightmare of a training session,” Cassian huffs but there’s a teasing to his tone. “Come on, get up.”
Staring up at him in surprise, your heart flutters, still entangled in the remnants of the dream. Unsatisfied with your lack of response, Cassian leans forward and effortlessly picks you up, hoisting you over his shoulder. The trance shatters, and you protest, kicking and punching.
"Hey! Let me go!" you exclaim, your resistance met with Cassian's apparent indifference as he heads towards the door.
"At least let me freshen up and change!" you plea in exasperation. "You can't expect me to train in my pajamas!"
Cassian rolls his eyes because if you had woken up early like usual, you would’ve had more than enough time to change into something more comfortable for training. He doesn’t care. He just needs you to be there. On time.
“I’ll catch a cold or freeze to death on the rooftop!”
He pauses, his wings shuddering at the thought. While he doesn’t care about what you wear,  he does care about you. Setting you down, Cassian regards you with a stern expression, though his stomach flutters. He hadn’t seen you since that night.
“You have 5 minutes.”
Cassian watches as you spring into action, your hurried footsteps echoing through the room as you run toward your bathroom. He bites back the urge to laugh. He’d never seen you run so fast.
**
Cassian was not exaggerating when he said you were in for a nightmare of a training session. Much to your dismay, your friends were all under Azriel’s instruction for the morning, allowing Cassian’s attention to solely focus on you. Something you normally would’ve swooned over but given your current tension…
“You’re doing it wrong.”
You let out a huff and lower your sword, dragging the pointy edge along the gravel. A scowl taints your features. “I need a break.”
Cassian shakes his head at you. “Not until you get this move right.”
He moves to stand behind you, placing his hands at your waist. Suddenly, you're thankful for the vigorous activity Cassian pushed you into. It allows you to put full blame for your heavy breathing on the demanding training and not on the way Cassian’s warm breath tickles your ears as he instructs you on how to properly position yourself.
“Like this,” he tells you, using a knee to prod your legs further apart.
Your knees wobble and once again, you blame it on your exhausted muscles. Cassian chuckles, the hands on your waist helping hold you steady. “Are you drunk, y/n?” He teases.
You turn your head to glare at him. “I’m sober.”
Cassian raises an eyebrow at you. “Oh?”
You toss your sword aside, freeing yourself from his hold, and spin around to face him. "And you want to know something else?"
Crossing his arms against his chest, Cassian's lips twitch upwards. He’s fully aware of the way your gaze momentarily dips down, catching the flex of his biceps. "What?" he prompts, the hint of a teasing smile playing on his face. 
Suddenly, the words die at your throat as you meet his gaze again. The intensity in his eyes rattles your nerves and you feel the courage slowly slipping away. Desperate to not let this moment slip through your fingers, you curl your fingers into his leathers and yank him down to your height. Choosing to show him instead, you lean forward and press your lips to his.
You pour out all your feelings into the kiss, heart quickening when he begins to reciprocate. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He’d dreamt of this moment just as much as you did and now that he had a taste, he didn’t want to stop.
Unfortunately, for him, the screams tearing through the training grounds have you pulling away. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Emerie and Gwyn, going wild and playfully tugging at Nesta’s arms while she laughs. Even Azriel indulges in a chuckle.
Blush creeps into your cheeks. You hold your breath as the world seems to stand still. However, instead of an awkward response, Cassian simply smiles, the flush of his cheeks matching yours and you feel like you can breathe again.
“I like you,” you finally confess, exhaling as your gaze dips downward. “Like might not even be sufficient enough at this point…"
Cassian's fingers gently grip your chin, coaxing your gaze back up to his. His thumb sweeps over your cheek in a tender caress—the same way it did on the night of your drunken confession. But this time, he doesn't hold back. He allows his thumb to trace the soft plush of your lips next.
And if the gleam in his hazel eyes was not enough to send you to the seventh heaven, his next words did.
“I’m falling in love with you, too.”
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a/n: hope you all enjoyed this one! ❤️
tagging: @hellodarling1357 , @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies
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saetoru · 9 months
Note
i just know the next time you see suguru he’s like “oh hey! it’s the guy/girl who unfollowed me! fancy seeing you here 😒” because he’s just as petty as satoru’s ass. best friend match made in heaven 💀
i’m writing this for the sake of fun i’m not tagging (bc how do you tag platonic shit ??) but yeah … platonic! suguru + reader ft. rb! gojo (briefly)
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seeing suguru is….well, awkward to say the least.
you hope for a moment that maybe he’ll ignore the fact that you removed him off of everything—instagram, twitter, snapchat, even venmo (he and satoru had a good laugh about that, much to your dismay.) but suguru is suguru and there is a reason why he gets along so well with satoru—and that’s because they’re equally as petty.
unfortunately.
“oh, hey,” he drawls, staring at his nails as his lips purse when you walk up, “it’s you. where do i know you from again? oh, right. i used to follow you on socials, didn’t i? yeah, that was a while ago. how’ve you been, stranger?”
“suguru, it’s been eight days,” you sigh, rolling your eyes.
“oh so we’re on first name basis? i didn’t realize—most of the people i’m on first name basis with follow me.”
“i didn’t have a choice,” you pout—and satoru (who for once doesn’t defend you) makes himself present from the distance as he calls out you definitely had a choice!
you sigh, deflating.
“i’m sorry i removed you from instagram,” you mumble. suguru raises a brow, unimpressed. “and twitter. and snap.”
“and?” he presses, making you huff in embarrassment and satoru chuckle in glee.
“….and venmo,” you say quietly. suguru snorts—it’s a good sign, at least.
“what was i gonna do? message you on venmo? please send me money for breaking my friend’s heart,” he mocks, making you pout deeper. yeah, you think, satoru and suguru are a match made in heaven—maybe satoru should date him instead of you.
“it’s not like i wanted to,” you say quietly, “i was in a tough spot.”
suguru is good natured, always has been. you used to think that being satoru’s best friend since childhood would make him susceptible to blindly picking your boyfriend’s side—but he’s not like that. he’s reasonable, defends you when he sees fit even if it means disagreeing with satoru. and he’s kind, dependable, treats you like family, looks out for you just like he does satoru.
suguru isn’t just your boyfriend’s best friend—he’s more than that to you. and when his face softens at your dejected one, you know he feels the same way.
“i know,” he says gently, flicking your forehead with that affectionate smile he always throws you, “that old man had it out for you. but i didn’t do anything. why did i have to get roped in?”
“glad to know you’d still follow my ex if we broke up,” satoru grumbles from the side, walking up to you both with a pile of sweets in his hands (which is an ungodly amount for just one person—and you know he intends to eat it all alone.)
“well, i didn’t want to make toru more sad,” you defend, “he seemed to be pretty in his feels. marvin’s room said enough.”
“i was about to remove him too after that one,” suguru crinkles his nose—which only makes satoru whine more about how you both can’t be mean together now! and how his feelings are still sensitive!
“that was terrible,” you snort, agreeing.
“anyway, can i maybe get my follow privileges back,” suguru raises a brow expectantly, crossing his arms, “you guys are back together and you still haven’t added me on anything. that’s foul.”
“i was nervous,” you defend through a whine, “what if you were mad?”
“i am mad,” he grumbles, “i was innocent.”
“i’m sorry suguru,” you pat his arm, “you’re right, it’s not your fault you’re stuck with satoru. he has no other friends.”
“huh? i have shoko!” satoru insists, gasping, “and nanami! and—”
“you’re right,” suguru sighs and nods, cutting satoru off, “if i drop him, he’ll be a loner. i’m stuck.”
satoru looks wounded. maybe heartbroken all over again, in fact. “wha—hey! you totally said i’m better off when i was first dumped! why are you acting like—”
“you and i are kind of the same,” you sigh playfully, “stuck with satoru for good. we’ll need to be each other’s support systems. rough times are ahead.”
“we can start with following each other back on socials, maybe,” he huffs, making you giggle lightly. and then he smiles, bringing you into a gentle hug, “glad you’re back. missed you.”
“thanks,” you mumble, “i missed you too.”
“can i join the hug?” satoru whines from behind, “i was the real victim here!”
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suguru is so babie. bestest friend ever.
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hhonghu · 1 year
Text
Love me harder!
;; sex obsessed!sub!kabukimono x reader
cw: innocent to sex crazed kabukimono, established relationship, probably ooc kabukimono, rough sex, lovemaking (??), doggy style, humping, grinding, nipple play, cumming inside, implied small dick kabukimono, sex addiction, begging, desperate kabukimono, corrupting kabukimono, anal fingering, squirting, overstimulation, implied marathon sex, reader has a dick
i definitely can do wholesome and romantic too!! i can hold back on making smut!! (no i cannot) this post is proof!! lol anyways this might be my longest piece yet, wonder if demons took over me or smth. i'll start exploring new writing formats too and improve after this bc this seems messy and i feel like it doesn't feel readable to some readers, so i apologize for that! ;; but i digress, sigh,, corrupting kabukimono is a fun experience though! now you have turned a innocent boy into a needy, sex obsessed boy who wants the love and pleasure you give to him only! enjoy reading! let me know if i missed anything! ^^ taglist (??): @lemonlimesocks @havenmoodz
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innocent!kabukimono who's captivated by you. you were introduced to him by niwa and you greet him with a smile, you're voice sounding like honey to his ears. who are you? "hello, i'm [name], a friend of niwa. nice to meet you." you raised your hand for him to shake. innocent!kabukimono who shyly shakes your hand, "it's nice to meet you too, i'm kabukimono.", "kabukimono? what a pretty name, it suits you well." his eyes light up, looking directly at yours as he smiles, cheeks flushing while muttering a small thank you. innocent!kabukimono who stares at you as you talk to niwa, having to excuse yourself now because you still had tasks to do. he perks up, were you leaving already? his face bared a sad expression, he didn't get to talk to you more. he.. he wanted to hear more of your voice. he has a strange feeling somewhere in his chest, he doesn't know what it is but he.. likes it. he sees you wave goodbye to him and niwa shouting that you'll come and see them some other time. he is definitely look forward to it.
innocent!kabukimono whos taking his lunch under a yumemiru tree, munching down an onigiri as he takes in the beautiful scenery before him. pink leaves fall down the tree and flying away with the wind or falling down to the ground and he sighs in content, it was peaceful. "kabukimono?" his breath hitches, it was you. it was your voice. he turns his head around and he sees you standing next to him, "so it is you. i noticed your veil from the road. what are you doing here?", "i—i'm eating my lunch here." kabukimono stammers. you smile at him and nod, "then mind if i join you as you eat?". innocent!kabukimono who nods eagerly and moved a bit to give you space to sit next to him. as you sat down and lean against the tree, he felt his cheeks warm up. "so, what are you eating for lunch?", you stretch your arms and fold them beneath your head. "i'm having some shio sake onigiri, if you'd like you can have some." kabukimono offers, hand already lending you one, "i made them myself.". you smile, "you sure? i wouldn't want to eat your lunch." you grin, "thanks for the offer though.". kabukimono shakes his hand, "no really, you can have some! i have enough for two people." you sigh and finally nod, "alright, if you say so.". he smiles, unwraps the onigiri and hands it to you. you lean in closer to him, muttering "thank you for the food," and taking a bite of the onigiri. innocent!kabukimono whos eyes widens as you pull away and chew away. you were so close to him! his could feel that feeling in his chest again, it was pounding. "mmm, this onigiri you made is pretty good!", "i'm g-glad you think so!" he stammers — he looks down at the bitten onigiri and then back at you. "would like.. more?"
innocent!kabukimono whos face flushes when you're around. every time you visit the workshop, you would come up to talk to him. you would ask how his day was or was he tired. you even ask him to come take a break from forging, winking that niwa won't know he was gone. innocent!kabukimono who swoon when you come by and give him little gifts; "i saw this sakura bloom by road and thought of giving to you, it goes well with your pretty hair and veil.", "there was sale at the food stall and it was unagi chazuke! i couldn't help buying some for you too, the deal was pretty good. be careful, the bowl is hot.", "here's a small lunch box i made! you can put the food you make here. and if you're feeling generous, you can give some for me too.". innocent!kabukimono who cherishes the gifts you give him. it makes the feeling in his chest flutter when what you do, you think of him. niwa will even tease him, asking in a sing-song voice "oohh, who's the the lucky fellow? got you smiling like that." kabukimono will just shush him and wave him away, going back to adore the little gifts you've given him.
innocent!kabukimono who couldn't help but think of you even while doing something! not once do you not cross his mind, it's as if you are there with him. from time to time he would space out; your eyes, your hair, your lips. you cloud his mind, it almost frustrates him. why is it that you haunt him? every time niwa approaches him, his eyes searches for you behind him. every time he makes food, he thinks if you will compliment him that how good he made it. innocent!kabukimono wanted know what he is feeling that you're making him feel. the feeling in his chest that he's come to like, all because of you.
innocent!kabukimono who brought it up to you one day while you took him out to eat dango under his favorite spot by the yumemiru. he tugged on your sleeve, "[name]? can i ask you something?". he looked.. conflicted, eyebrows furrowed and lips in a slight frown. you nodded and faced him, "what's up?" you've never seen him so serious, so you wondered what is on his mind. "[name], i've been having this strange feeling in my chest. every time you're around me, every time we talk, every time you're in my mind, i feel it. you make my body feel this warmth and i do not know what it is, but i like it, it makes me feel happy and.. alive when i'm with you. but i'm scared.. i do not know this feeling, i do not know if it is good or bad, [name]." his hold on your sleeve tightens and his eyes becomes glossy, lips starting to quiver. as for you, you were taken aback and your eyes widened in realization. strange feeling in his chest? warmth? he... he basically confessed to you! you cheeks felt warm as you comprehend what he just said — no words coming your mouth as you stare at him in awe. innocent!kabukimono who felt as if he was going to cry. why are you staring at him like that? it's making him nervous. did he say something wrong? he knew it, he shouldn't have said that. before you could say something, a stray tear slides down his cheek. "[n-name].. i — i didn't mean to upset you! please.. please forgive me..." you quickly raised your hand as you snap out of your trance to cup his cheek and swipe away the fallen tear with your thumb. "oh, kabukimono. i'll never be upset with you. shh shh.. it's okay, it's okay." you coo at him, watching as he melts on your hand, eyes glistening with tears threatening to spill out. "kabukimono, what you just told me.." you swallow, "— is a feeling called love. it seems that you were feeling the same way as i am.". kabukimono perks up, what do you he was feeling the same as you do? were you feeling the same thing that was in his chest? was it that love you speak of? you tuck a stray hair behind his ear and smile softly, "kabukimono, will you listen to me? i think this would be the best time to tell you.." your eyes searches an answer in his and he nods. "i am absolutely enamored by you. i feel the same warmth in chest when you are with me. your eyes, your face, you smile.. it makes my heart swell. you are prettiest boy i've ever met and i'm glad i've met you.". innocent!kabukimono whos eyes spills tears one after the other, eyes widening at your confession. and then he giggles before full on laughing — you were stunned, you thought you were about to be laughed at until he feel his arms around your neck and hug you tightly. "[name], [name], [name]... you do not know how much you've made me happy hearing you say those words.."
innocent!kabukimono who was now officially your lover! words cannot describe the happiness when you two agreed to finally be together after that confession under the tree. now you affections have increased to him by tenfold! your visits the workshop becomes more frequent to come and see him, you buy him more things (you even bought him an expensive tea set which made trip and fall over when you said the price lmao), and gladly eat the food he learned to make just for you. even niwa would scold you with a broom, "let kabukimono work and go back to your own work!" and try and chase you out. as you run out with niwa on your tail, you turn your head back and shout out "i love you, darling! work hard! i'll come by again!", "like hell you will!". kabukimono who laughs and waves as he watches your figures run around — he was so in love with you.
innocent!kabukimono who begins to feel something other than love. you two have finally gotten used to physical touch; hugging, holding hands, even sleeping next to one another (you got a slipper thrown at you by niwa when he found out you "stole" kabukimono at the dead of night just to sleep with you lmaoao). and when you two shared your first kiss, he felt as he was floating in clouds. your lips were soft against his and the kiss was soft too, making him melt into your hold. when you pulled away you swore you could've seen hearts in his eyes, "did you like it?" you asked. he nods eagerly, "i enjoyed it.." he pulls on your collar, bringing you forward, your lips touching again. "... please, kiss me more, [name].."
innocent!kabukimono who feels something in him when you touch him. he could feel something in his stomach burning when you touch his waist and caress it as you talk about your day, making him unable concentrate. your touch feels warm even if your hand is on his clothes, he couldn't make sense what's happening to his body. it's almost as if he wanted more.
innocent!kabukimono whos preparing a simple meal for you while you went out for a while. when he was reaching out for a small bowl across the table a little too far away from his reach, he squeals as he felt something good from the corner of the table that put pressure on his poor cock. he pulled himself away, unsure what just happened. what was that he just felt? he felt something when he.. accidentally rubbed himself on the corner of the table. he contemplated and curiosity got the best of him, deciding to go back to the edge of the table. his hands grip the table and positioned himself — he's unsure on what to do but he wanted to recreate that feeling again. innocent!kabukimono who slightly rolls his hips, testing the waters. his grip on the table tightens as he felt the small sensation of pleasure zip through his body making him squeal out in surprise. ah, so there it is. he bites his lips and tries again and he swears he feel his legs about to give up. it feels so good. the table creaks as he begins to pick up his pace, soft, lewd sounds escaping his mouth. but he couldn't quite reach it. he chasing something he doesn't know, he can feel it but but can't get there. innocent!kabukimono who didn't notice you arrive. you walked in him with his back facing you humping the edge of the table. you lean on the kitchen entrace, watching him intently as he nimbly thrusts his hips. kabukimono lets out a garbled noise of frustration, hips coming to stop as his catches his breath, body shaking. you smirk, he can't cum. poor kabukimono, shaking because he can't cum. but don't worry! now you're here to lend him a hand.
innocent!kabukimono who gasps as he feels hands wrap around his waist and a head bury and his shoulder, "what are you doing, darling?". he lets his hands let go of the table and grab your arms around him, shakily cluthcing your arm. he feels ashamed! he can't believe you've seen him like this when he was supposed to be preparing your meal. "[na-name]! it's not.. it's not what you think!" he tries to explain himself but no words come after, shame and embarrassment really starting to take over him. you chuckle, lifting your head and whisper right into his ear, "it's alright, don't fret." he relaxes a little in your hold but still tense, turning his face away from you. "so, what were you doing? you can tell me, kabukimono. i won't be upset." you nuzzle back into his neck, trying to coax him to talk. "i don't.. i don't know.. i was trying to reach for a bowl across the table but then.. then i felt something when i bumped on the corner of the table.. i really liked it.. it felt good.. so i wanted to feel it again.." he cuts himself off as a hiccup leaves his mouth. you coo at him, so he was just humping the table because he accidentally stimulated himself? how cute. "aww and how did it go? i heard you cry out, darling." he lets out a breath, you can see from an angle of his eyebrows furrowing. "i felt it again.. but, i can't reach it..", "hm? reach what?", "i don't know.. i don't know. i just want it, [name]."
innocent!kabukimono who finally faces you, doe eyes looking up at you pleading, "please, [name].. please help me.." and something in you snapped. to hear him beg for you, bleary eyes asking you to help him cum.. oh, it just awakens the deepest parts in you. you lean down and kiss him while your hands drag itself down his body making him squirm. you whisper in his mouth to relax as you undo his pants and pulling it down, touching his poor cocklet, pre-cum already oozing out his tip. he grabs onto your bicep as he moans in your mouth, feeling you slowly stroke him. you pull away from the kiss and use your free hand to grab his chin and make him look down on your hand stroking him, "here, look at me stroking your pretty cock, darling. you have to watch because this is how you," you gently squeeze and he mewls, "— feel pleasure." innocent!kabukimono whos legs were shaking as he feels your stroke him, breath beginning to stagger as felt himself fall into satisfaction. "haaa, hhghk—! so good, so gooood.. please keep going, please..!". you kiss his neck, leaving a trail of marks and stroke him faster, watching as his body twists and turns in your hold, his mouth letting out the prettiest sounds. his grip on your clothes becomes tighter, his head leaning back on your shoulder as his hand scrambles to take your hand off his cock. "[name]— [name], wait! something ngh— something is gonna come out hngh—! [name], s-stop! i'm going to pee!" you didn't listen. you hand goes faster, rougher, squelching echoing in the kitchen accompanying kabuikmonos' moans. "[name], [name], [name]! it's coming ah, ah, ah— it's coming out!", "that's right, darling. go ahead, let it all out. cum all over my hand." and cums. hard. spurts of white leave his pretty cock as his eyes roll back and his body convulses, his orgasm washing over him. you slow down and closing to a stop, hand still wrapped around his cock as you listen to him catch his breath. you gently kiss his temple, "how do you feel, darling?" as you wait for his response, you feel him grind back against you and your eyes widen, "kabukimono?". you don't know what you've just done to him. poor, sweet kabukimonos' first taste of pleasure.. he wanted more.
innocent!kabukimono who gets carried to your bedroom and lied down softly on your bed. you lean down and pepper kisses on his face and you sigh in content, "what have i done to you, kabukimono?". you take his hand and kiss the back of it, "please tell me you want this as much as i do." kabukimono nods, he does! he wants to feel more closer to you, he wants to feel your skin on his, he just wants you. "say it, darling. i need to hear—", "yes! yes, please, [name]. let's become closer than ever, so please—" he wraps his arms around your neck and pulls you closer, "touch me."
innocent!kabukimono who stuggles to keep his legs open, his pretty slick hole being bared to you. you stare at it as it clenches on nothing, it was so inviting. "be patient, darling." you tut, other hand grabbing his milky thigh to spread him further, making him whimper. kabukimono feels embarrassed, the way you stare at him so intensely, especially down there, makes him shiver. innocent!kabukimono who clenches around you when you put your tip inside him, teasing his hole. "relax, darling. you're too tense.." you hiss at the feeling. he's trying! he really is! the sensation is just so new to him, so he couldn't help it. a few second pass and he finally relaxes, nodding at you to slowly slide in. innocent!kabukimono whos eyes nearly crosses as you slowly push inside, his warm walls enveloping your cock. you breathed out a dazed sigh and not move, let him get used to you and relishing the feeling of him finally around you. kabukimono on the other hand, was seeing heaven. too good, too good, you made him feel too good. you were all the way inside him and he felt so full, your cock reaching the deepest part in him and you needed you to move now. "[name], hic— you can— you can move," his hands grab the sheets below him in anticipation as your hips begin to move, slowly thrusting in and out of him. innocent!kabukimono who cries out, eyes brimming with tears as you pick up your pace, pounding in his greedy hole. "ngh— oooh, god! [name], this— this feels so good♡! don't stop, don't stop, please!", "haah—! right there! please, keep ngh— doing that♡! keep oooh— hitting that spot!", "[name], [name, [name]..! hhngh♡♡!". innocent!kabukimono who feels the coil in stomach about to snap, his hands finding its way to your back and scratching it, making you groan. kabukomono arches his back, head moving further into the pillow as drill into him harder and feel him clench around you. you grin, "you're close, aren't you, darling?" you hit a certain spot in him making him squeal, "come on, answer me, darling." you press your tip against his prostate, drool slipping from the side of his mouth, "yesh— yes! keep unghhh—! keep going! please! go faster♡!" and who are you say no to your kabukimono? innocent!kabukimono who cums with a scream, eyes rolling back and his mouth hanging open as his cocklet spill out. you give a few last thrusts, grunting as you cum in him, filling him up. heavy breathing can be heard, both you catching your breaths. you reach out and cup his cheek, leaning down and kissing it. "such a good boy, darling. how are you feeling?" he looks up at and smiles, using the last of his strength to lift his head and kiss you back on your cheek. "you've made me feel so good, [name], thank you." it makes your heart swell, seeing him enjoy his first time with you. "but..." you perk up, seeing a shy expression on his face "[name], can.. we go one more time♡?"
oh, look what have you done to him.
poor innocent kabukimono.
you've ruined him.
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kabukimono loves you. he loves you so much.
just as much as he loves your dick.
you've completely ravaged him. ruined him.
so take responsibility, won't you?
sex obsessed!kabukimono who got addicted to you and sex. oh, look what have you done to him. after his first time with you, sex with has not left his mind even during work. it'd woken something in him; he starts to crave it it, yearn for it, needing it. he can't focus in his work, forging weapons seemingly becoming more disinterested, his mind solely on you. he wanted to feel pleasure again. the pleasure you gave him left him wanting more.
sex obsessed!kabukimono who seeks you out. he would leave the workshop, looking for you. niwa would ask him where he was going but he waved him away, it's nothing important, he says. but he knows he's lying, he knows because he's looking for you. poor kabukimono knocking on your door, please be here. please, you have to be here. and to his luck, you opened the door. "darling? what's wrong? i was just about—" you cut yourself off, the feeling of his lips on yours shutting you up. you kiss him back, grabbing his waist and pulling him inside, locking the door and slamming him against it. you pull away, "hm? now what's this? desperate now, are we?" you tease, looking down his as flushed face, "surely.. you came here because you missed me, right?". sex obsessed!kabukimono who can't deny what you said. he does miss you! he really does.. "or..", you lean down and whisper in his ear, "you missed my cock, don't you, kabukimono?" he whines. you laugh, reveling in the fact he does in fact, miss your cock. "please.. just.. just this once. i can't get enough, please.. i need your cock.." he grabs on your clothes and tug them, eyes pleading up at you. "you don't— you don't have to put it in me. use my mouth.. i— please, use my mouth♡."
sex obsessed!kabukimono who excuses both of you when having tea time with niwa, saying some sensible yet pathetic excuse. he drags you out the room all the while you're trying to hold back your laugh. sex obsessed!kabukimono who locks both of you inside an storage room filled with cargo boxes and pounces on you, roughly kissing you while you grab the back of his thighs to carry him. you carefully navigate the room and set him down a box, hands trailing down to his waist. you pull away as he sighs, a trail of saliva following your mouth, "strip off your shirt." and he does immediately, undoing until his chest is bare to you— his pink, perky nubs already hard and enticing to come and play with them. you contemplate whether to give in or let him suffer, just a bit. afterall, while niwa was distracted, kabukimono decided it would be nice to tease you a bit by pulling a bit of his shirt by the top, showing you his nipples. it definitely backfried.
sex obsessed!kabukimono who gives you a confused look when you switch places with him. you sat on the box and sit him down on your lap with his back on your chest. you settled you hands on his waist and your chin on his shoulder near his ear, making him breathe deeply. "i know what you want, darling. but that stunt you pulled back there? i'm not so sure." he hiccups, head turning to look at you. "bu-but..", "tsk, tsk. you know what you did." he pouts, a little hmph escaping his lips. sex obsessed!kabukimono who takes matters in his own hands, if you won't, then he will. his nimble fingers reach and touch his nubs, lightly touching it with the tips of his fingers. you watch intently, awestricken as he plays with his nipples without you. oh well, more for you. sex obsessed!kabukimono whos hips begin to grind back to you, a small bulge can be seen in his pants. he moans your name as he begins to twist and pull, his nipples becoming more sensitive and puffy— how cute. "hghh— [name].. [name]! i.. i can't! my nipples.. my nipples feels so good! its ngh—♡!", "[naaame].. it's so hghuk—! ah, ah, ah♡! so sensitive.. ughk—! i don't wanna stooop♡...". sex obsessed!kabukimono whos back arches he gives on last pinch to his nipples, legs shaking as he cums in his pants, lewd noises sighing out of his mouth. he limps back on you chest, catching his breath as body gives small jerks. he gasps as he feels you tear his hands away from his chest and replaces it with yours, your fingers pinching and twisting harshly making him cry out, hands searching for something to grab on to. "don't think you'll get out of this, darling." you tug more firmly on the oversensitive nubs and he arches his back, shouting out your name. "let's play with these more, yeah?".
(niwa did not hesitate to throw you both his slippers right at you once you came back with a debauched and disheveled kabukimono lol)
sex obsessed!kabukimono who invites you in his room, telling you that he was given a kotatsu table (for some reason)! as you enter his room, he's already settled in the table, his lower half covered by the table cover. he pats the free space next to him and offers you some snacks, smiling as you take your place beside him. you put your legs under the table, feeling the warmth radiating from under table. you two chat for a while, planning if kabukimono can meet with you a local food stand. as you talk about the food of the stand, you reach for the snacks on the table and in the corner of your eyes, kabukimono pulled back his legs out of the table, revealing that he wasn't wearing anything underneath. sex obsessed!kabukimono turns to you and spreads his legs, showing you pretty wet hole. "sorry.. i can't help it.." he shyly, yet mischievously says. you chew your the snack and swallowed, then smile, reaching out and stretching his hole with your thumb. you watch as he clenches in anticipation, his thighs quivering. sex obsessed!kabukimono whos tongue lolls out his mouth, drool sliding the side of his mouth as your finger works his insides, thrusting in and out, reaching deep inside him. your pace was decent but to kabukimono, it wasn't enough. he grabbed the back of his thighs and pulled it back farther, making it almost reach his ears and he feels like he'll pass out. the angle made your fingers keep touching his prostate over and over again. "yesyesyes, keep going angh—! your fingers feel so good, [name]! don't nghhh♡— don't stop♡!". like hell you will.
sex obsessed!kabukimono who gets pounded from behind, back arching as your hips snap back and forth against his ass, your cum dripping down the sides of his thighs and down the sheets. you haven't stopped, he lost count to how many times he came and how many times you filled him up to the brim. sex obsessed!kabukimono whos legs write and kick as he feels his orgasm approaching, nononono, he can't possibly! you hips piston faster, making him cry out as he feels like your reaching his stomach. he tries to slow you down, his hand reaching for your abdomen and weakly pushing but it didn't work, it only made you faster. "ooohhh— ougnnhh! [name]! [name], please! i can't— i can't! i'll die, i'll— diiieee♡!", "having my dick shoved in your thirsty, drooling, cum filled hole won't kill you, so fucking take it." sex obsessed!kabukimono who screams into the pillow as his cocklet squirts and he body convulses, trying to escape the overwhelming pleasure. you kept thrusting, you didn't stop until you finally spill your load in him, groaning as his hole clenches, milking you for all your worth. a few seconds pass by, you begin to move again and kabukimono whines, limp body using all his strength to turn his head to face you. and to your (exciting) surprise, he has a dopey smile on. "keep filling me up, [name]♡!".
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bunnys-kisses · 3 days
Text
werewolf!simon 🐺 (bc happy 3,000 followers to me <3)
you met because you were lost in the woods while camping. it wasn't your fault that all of the trees looked the same! but it led you into simon who led you back to his cabin so you could call the park ranger! simon even made you some tea before he called the land-line.
park ranger johnny or 'soap' said that the truck was out of service so it would have to wait until tomorrow. "you can be a gentleman, right simon?" he laughed over the phone. simon grumbled in response, this wasn't going to be the best idea.
it was the full moon after all.
simon allowed you your personal space as he went about his cabin. he even allowed you to use his bed for the evening. you told him that you were fine on the couch! the issue was that the bedroom could be locked from the outside, usually for his own protection. but tonight it was for yours.
"um... mister simon." you said, "i'm sorry that i'm intruding so much."
"it's alright." he got up from his spot in front of the fireplace. he walked past you and rubbed your hair as he went by, "the woods aren't a safe place."
"i was told only deer hang around here."
he chuckled, "you should be more afraid of men." he went to the nearby kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge. he opened it with ease and took a sip, "man destroys."
"well." you stepped forward in a daring move, "you're a man and you're taking good care of this place." you swallowed, "i don't think the entire species is doomed."
he chuckled and took another sip, "i'm not a man."
you stilled, "so like an alien."
he put the beer down and pulled away from the counter, "more beast than man. every full moon, beasts like me roam the woods. sometimes we get a little hungry."
"so you would've eaten me?" you swallowed, you balled your fists just in case you had to make an escape.
he approached you, but you were frozen still. instead of touching you with force, it was so gentle. his thumb was dragged down your cheek, "no. i don't hurt pretty things. but i would've snapped my fangs at anything that tried to come near your tent. so for your sake, stay in my room. so i can't hurt you."
you found the courage to touch him back. your fingers dragged down the scar on his face, "but what if they come too close to your home?"
he smiled a little, "i'll give you my shotgun."
you swallowed, "well.. mister simon. maybe i need your protection?" it was better that you had a familiar face around the cabin instead of leaving it all up to chance.
he cupped your face, "i could hurt you."
you shrugged a little, "i'd rather you hurt me then some other man."
he brushed his thumb across your cheek, "well. then i guess i have to be on good behaviour then." then leaned in to kiss you on your forehead, "but i'll need to cover you with my scent."
you were soon stripped, you realized that simon has no sense of modesty. eventually you were tossed on the bed like you were a bag of potatoes. and simon pressed his weight onto you.
you pressed under a man who could easily snap your bones. but instead, you were doing weird beast-esque skin to skin contact. he rubbed up against you.
"mister simon." you squeaked.
"it's just simon."
"are you sure i can't just wear some of your clothes." they would fit.
"nah. gotta get it right into the skin." he said gruffly as he continued to snuggle against you. you didn't know what scent he was putting on you. all you smelt was old spice and aftershave.
usually for simon, he would've been pent up by now. the day was slowly waning. but he found himself getting tired. the usually sharp werewolf was turning into a metaphorical mush. it was like he felt safe in your arms.
the comfort of simon's bed plus your time hiking left you feeling drowsy too. it wasn't long before you both fell asleep. you didn't even feel the man turn into a wolf.
you simply turned to your side and get comfy against the thick hair that covered you. it was like sleeping under one of those expensive shag rugs that rich people had.
that paired with the weighed allowed you to sleep soundly as the full moon passed the sky. you were a relaxing force to this werewolf and you didn't even know it.
the next morning, johnny came by to pick you up but instead found you under the enormous weight of one simon riley. he was soundly snoring and the ranger just chuckled to himself.
"i'll come back later so you don't ma head off."
(this could be expanded on later. i'm calling it the 'howlin' for you' au aka the werewolf au)
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m0uchie · 8 days
Note
hello!! First time requesting something, but could you maybe write something wanderer and fem.reader testing out those aphrodisiac chocolates?
Thank you!! <33
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— pairing : wanderer x fem!reader
— warnings : NSFW; using of drugs (the aphrodisiac); they fuck a lot; honestly this is so badly written im sry; creampie; oral (m!receiving); she rides him at some point
— a/n : let’s pretend it’s close to Valentine’s Day bc I said so
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He insisted a lot until tonight came. He pestered you to buy these stupid chocolates, and you accepted in the end for the sake of the smile on his face. And when they finally arrived and you tasted them together, you felt nothing but sleepy.
“Maybe we just need to wait a bit-”
“We've been waiting since 9:30, do you know what time it is now?” You contradict his insistence, eyeing his pouting face to search for a response. He shakes his head.
“Past midnight.” He frowns at you, looking away when you stare at him for too long.
“I told you it wasn’t gonna work. I’m going to bed.” You stretch your back and sigh deeply before standing up from the couch and going to your shared bedroom.
“I’m right behind you then.” He says, still a bit disappointed that his little experiment didn't work this time.
He really liked the idea of testing things out with you, as long as you weren't opposed to that. And you were almost always open to trying new things for him to see what would work better for you two.
His co-workers wouldn’t stop talking about their private experiences with this aphrodisiac chocolates like horny teenagers, and although he was annoyed by it, he couldn’t help but get curious. Valentine’s Day was approaching after all.
He didn't like sweets, quite the opposite, he hated them. However, anyone could tell otherwise by the way his face was covered in chocolate right now, like a child. He wanted to make it work. He was excited to see what would unfold after.
Unfortunately this time, you weren't going to end up on all fours with your body covered in his cum on the bed because it was already late and you were tired, but he still had a lifetime to do it.
Wanderer was sleeping soundly next to you when you woke up. Chapped and dehydrated lips, the complete opposite of what they’d been in the morning, but perhaps these were the consequences of the cold weather.
… cold? No. In fact, since when has it been so hot?
Your body was sweating and the air conditioning, despite being on, didn't seem to work. You cautiously remove the arms that embraced your body, and remove the blanket that covers you to touch your feet to the floor slowly, not wanting to make any noise.
Only now were you thinking about how terrible the idea was of trying to get to the kitchen in the early morning only to drink some water without disturbing your loved one's sleep. After all, where was the switch? You knew it was on the wall next to the door, and that there was a lamp next to your bed, but it was on Wanderer's side, and you didn't want to bump into it, much less go over his body to turn on the light, so the switch was the safest now. Or so you thought.
“Oh shit.” You bump into something, hearing it fall to the floor. It didn't seem that loud, but when you heard him suddenly rumbling and calling out your name, you knew you fucked up.
You guide your body carefully to face the bed again, climbing onto the mattress and moving closer to the warmth of Wanderer's body.
"What is it?" You say with a subtle tone, not wanting to completely wake him up since it was still late.
“Mm… need it here…” you frown in confusion.
"What do you mean? What do you need?” You now carry a hint of worry in your voice, quickly towering over Wanderer’s body and reaching out to turn on the lights since he was closer to the lamp.
“I-I feel… something…” his voice drops as his eyes wander to his blanket covered body. Your hand reaches out to pull it off his body, assuming whatever he had was under the blanket since he couldn't stop looking.
However, the sight that beholds you is that of a man only in his boxers. Clothes thrown to the floor at some point in the night that you didn't notice, and a tent formed beneath the fabric of his underwear, which was wet enough to be discarded.
The feeling you felt faintly in your body before suddenly becomes more present and obvious, as you had ignored it until now. From now on there was nowhere to run. Besides getting hotter all over, an uncomfortable need made itself known between your legs, screaming to be relieved. You were wet like a fountain.
“Mmh? Y/N… it hurts.” He mumbles one more time. You clear your throat and look in his direction, realizing now that he had opened his eyes, without even a drop of tiredness on his face.
“I-it does?” Your legs close in an attempt to hide your intimacy discovered under your nightgown, — since you slept without it when you were at home — embarrassed for thinking about such dirty things after insisting that you sleep without touching each other.
Maybe you were just frustrated that the aphrodisiac didn't work. You two were very active and this time you rejected him because of his “mistake” in buying something that didn't work without seeing the reviews again. So it would be embarrassing to call out to him now knowing that you were the one in the wrong.
He nods, drawing his eyebrows together and diverting his teary gaze to the walls. You try to get your head straight and focus on your boyfriend. He's in pain, so whatever you're feeling right now isn't important.
"Where does it hurt? Show me." You struggle to express your concern, despite the tingling you felt throughout your body and the immense desire you had to simply tear off all his clothes and make him feel better with your body. But let's agree that that's not how things work in reality (or they shouldn't work like this for normal couples).
He grabs your hand. The trembling, anxious pulse as he guides you to his crotch. Your lips part in an “o”, and you instinctively begin to massage him through the fabric, drawing thin moans that you never thought you would hear coming from his lips.
“Nnngh use it! P-please- oh just use me—!” he arches his back to receive more contact with your hand, tears streaming down his face. "help me."
And that's when you completely lose control.
On the average, with a standard dosage, the effects of an aphrodisiac can begin to be felt within one to three hours of ingestion. You assumed the effects would be noticed right away, but it seems like it will only get more intense over time. How stupid were you to not realize this sooner?
You were dripping just like Wanderer, whose dick just freed by you was slick with precum from top to base. The “pulling out method” wouldn’t even have a chance of working this time if you weren't on the pill, not that you would care about the consequences if that were the case, clit aching to be touched.
You admire the treat in front of you, drooling to put it in your mouth and make your throat its home.
“N-no, wait— fuck! Wanna cum inside youuu.” He moves his hips and tries to push your face away, but it's not enough to stop you from lubricating your lips and mouthing his dick. The fingers around your hair loosen as he starts to soften and give up, eyes rolling into the back of his head with so much pleasure.
“Ohhh baby, feels so good around my c-cock.” Soon he gives in against you without much resistance. You hummed around his cock, sucking and making wet noises that left his ears red. The rest that you couldn't put in your mouth, you stimulated with your hands in a back and forth movement.
However for Wanderer, everything fit if you put your mind into it.
“T-take it good mmmn.” He starts to throw his hips against your mouth and hold your hair in a ponytail with one hand, using you to get off like a fuck toy, making you gag a few times until his cock was so deep in your throat that your nose touched his pelvic hair.
He holds your head still in that position. It becomes difficult to breathe and the only thing you can do is move your tongue randomly from one side to another. You are about to call him when you feel warm ropes of cum going down your throat.
“I'm still hard. Do something about it.” He asks demandingly, wiping his dripping seed from your lips with his thumb and then shoving two fingers inside your mouth so you could swallow it all well.
When he’s finished, you take a deep breath. Face red as you open your legs slightly to show your messy situation. A slimy substance sliding between your folds and glistening pussy, along with a throbbing clit, so sensitive to the touch!
He gets up from the bed, still limp from his recent orgasm, and brings his face closer to your intimacy, fascinated. “You’re as wet as when you’re ovulating. Even needier, I bet.” His finger passes between your folds, lining up with your entrance.
“Think it worked.” He smiles to himself, proud of having eaten so many chocolates earlier, and sticks his finger between your walls, just the act itself being enough to make you clench around it and let out a deep breath.
“And she’s so tight too. She must be even more sensitive today. Fuck, that way I can’t even move my fingers further.” He leaves his finger inside you without moving, feeling you grow impatient and start to rock your hips against the source of pleasure.
“T-then why is it going in? H-hah-“ your voice cracks, eyebrows draw together to match your melted eyes. Wanderer just smirks at the sinful scene.
“Ahh using me just like I said…” a gooey liquid escapes you when he suddenly pulls his finger out and manhandles you into being on all fours to fill your mouth with his sticky finger, distracting you so that you were unable to speak. “But you can very well use something bigger.”
He parts your legs, positioning his dick underneath to let your juices fall all over him and lubricate him completely as he rubs his dick between your folds, grunting every time the head reaches your hole and you clench needily.
“I-it’s so hard… it wants to be inside your pretty pussy.” He places a soothing hand on your waist and caresses it, looking so pleadingly at your body while slowly entering you when you wiggle your ass as a response.
With a heavy sigh coming out of both of you, he holds your waist very firmly and thrusts hard into you, changing positions every time he came inside you.
Finally, you were on top of him. He loved seeing you on top of him, tits bouncing up and down as you roll your hips in order to grind your clit on his pelvis at the same time you moved on his cock. He could never resist the urge to pinch your hard nipples and squeeze your belly to intensify your pleasure and to show you how deep he was inside you.
“Just one more time, please baby.” He kisses between your boobs, holding your waist in place when you told him you were getting tired and tried to go away. He knew you weren't done either, but he'd do all the work for you and make you feel good all over again until you came this one last time.
So when you replied with a “mhmm” he promptly pushed you down and slammed his cock all the way to your womb, pumping his cum from his previous orgasms back up into you once again, trying to reach another one with you.
“Ah- I don’t know if I can cum again!”
“No no, I know you can. Give it to me, hm?” He insists, silencing your uncontrolled blabbering sounds and sobs with his mouth, swallowing said noises while he flicked your swollen clit until your mind became all foggy again.
He slowed his ministrations when your walls tightened around his cock with a loud grunt, gushing out a thick stream of sperm inside you. Your faces parted for him to see your fucked out state and the line of drool connecting the two of you, he couldn't help but smile.
“You look so pretty like this. Almost makes me want to ruin you again.” He leaves a sweet kiss on your forehead, making it impossible for him to see your surprised face that comes after.
“I- I think that’s enough…?” Your voice comes out, although a little hoarse and low. There were still some chocolates left, and now you knew that you had to be careful to hide them from your boyfriend, as he seemed to have enjoyed this a little too much.
“You’re right, we can see about that tomorrow.” He teases, chuckling as you gulp down.
For a while, you both remain silent. He waits for you to start yawning and close your eyes to clean you up so you don't wake up uncomfortable in the morning. When he lies down with you again, he pulls you closer and leaves you lying on his chest.
Wanderer isn't accustomed to showing love through physical contact, but he knows you like it more than anything, and he can't deny that the feeling of your warm body on his makes him feel... things. The next day, he won't be there anymore, and your chest will tighten as you make your way to the kitchen, finding the smell of coffee strange until you’re looking at his back facing you.
For a moment, the tightness in your heart is replaced by the familiar butterflies in the stomach, and you sit on the counter as he smiles innocently and places a warm coffee in front of you.
Your hands hold the handle to bring the drink to your mouth when you notice the small candy on the saucer where the cup was and raise your head towards him to arch a doubtful eyebrow.
“To sweeten your coffee since I didn’t add sugar today.” He justifies himself.
Apparently, he’s addicted to chocolates now.
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