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caxde · 1 month

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bright eyes | eddie munson x reader

summary you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, on a sunny day Eddie's daughter bumps into you. (4.1k)

warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

a/n: i think i might make this a little series if you guys would like that <3 part 2 part 3

It was warm outside.

Early spring had its advantages, flowers started to bloom, the sun shone brighter and longer, and the rain fell only at night when you had trouble sleeping.

You had just moved here, and you still weren’t sure or knew that much, so you tended to keep to yourself. You’d go to work, to the little shop on main street, back to your little trailer.

You were sitting down on your little kitchen floor, looking at the way your washing machine turned around, waiting for your hair to dry after the shower, so you could sleep with fresh sheets tonight. You enjoyed this sort of calmness, a new found happiness that you weren’t aware you could achieve.

You placed the white sheets on the little laundry basket that you had lying around, cloth pins scattered on its bottom. You held it, against your waist, your left hand grabbing it while you struggled to open the door.

You whispered along the words of a song that was playing from a beat up radio from across the street, taking your time, as you placed every sheet perfectly, enjoying the sun shining on your face. It was all going as well as it could.

“Hi.”

It startled you, not as much as it could, the little voice coming from down below you, it forced you to look down, a little girl looked up at you, half hiding behind your sheets, she was wearing a black faded black sabbath shirt that didn’t belong to her, the seam of it well past her knees, white socks on her feet, her hair was black and curly, half hiding her eyes.

“Oh. Hi.” You smiled at her, the sweetest tone you could fathom came out of your lips. She became shy for a second, as she grabbed one of your clothes pins and handed it to you. “Thank you, buddy.” You smiled as you grabbed it, placing it on top of one of your cushion covers, even if it didn’t need an extra one. “You’ll get your socks dirty.” You point out.

She smiled in a shy manner, covering her face with her hands as she nodded.

“Bug?” She turned around as soon as she heard his voice. Her arms went up, demanding to be held by him. “There you are!” He had a soft and playful tone, as he grabbed her.

You felt stuck there for a second. He was tall, with curly dark hair, strong decorated by tattoos arms that flex when he held her, close to his chest. The same smile she seemed to have was imprinted on his face. It’s not that he is attractive -which he undeniably is- but he seems to shine, in a beautiful light, warmer than the sun.

“I’m sorry if she annoyed you, we were playing hide and seek.” His words come out way too quicker than he had wanted them to, with an apologetic look on his face as he swayed his body, her giggles invading the space between you.

“She didn’t, not at all.” You smiled at him, before looking back at her, she was giggling at you now, and a soft spot was found deep inside your heart. “She was helping me do laundry, actually.” You point out to the extra wood clothespin that she had given you.

“Oh, so you can help the pretty lady and not me?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, the infectious laughter growing louder and stronger as he holds his face closer to hers.

But you don’t really listen, the only thing in your mind right now is his voice calling you pretty.

pretty, pretty, pretty.

Your cheeks become warmer, pinker.

As soon as he notices, he realises what he had said.

He had called you pretty before even introducing himself. He feels like a fool, he meets a pretty girl and is only focused on the one in his arms.

He tries to fix it, a soft grin dedicated to you as a nervous scoff leaves his lips.

You don’t really mind the silence, or the opportunity to look at him, and his dark chocolate eyes, but you have the impulse to tell him your name, and you do, with an upside down smile that passes down to him.

“I’m Eddie.” He says in return, grabbing your hand not thinking much of it, though he didn’t think he’d feel a sort of sparks as soon as your hand met his. To be fair, neither did you. “This little bug is Lua.” He adds, as he lets go of your hand, slowly, so his fingers can tickle her again, making her giggle once more, her tiny hands grabbing his hair in a playful manner.

“Hi Lua.” It’s not that your voice comes out shy, but the high pitched baby voice makes your tone come out with a bit of a treble, as if nervousness that she wouldn’t like you took over. “Thanks for helping me with laundry.” You add, as she hides, pushing her face against Eddie’s chest, the pureness of that gesture makes your smile wider.

If you weren’t so focused on Lua’s reactions, you would have caught Eddie lost into you, as he had never experienced such kindness or softness from someone that wasn’t already close.

He was used to the stares, and the silent judgment from everyone, way before Lua came into his life, and mostly it came from people around his age, or way older. His constant thought behind a string of ‘shut up grandpa’ and ‘go back to your retirement home’ that he never said out loud. The world could be mean, but he would never let her little girl know that. At least not yet.

He wasn’t used to this though.

A kind stranger, around his age, that doesn’t really judge, and interacts in a playful manner with her. It was more than he could fathom.

“‘r welcome.” Lua mumbled as she looked up from her hiding spot for a second, before burying herself back into his arms.

Eddie’s heart felt full for a moment. Lua wasn’t used to strangers, and she didn't really like to talk out loud to people she wasn’t used to. Though these days she was only used to uncle Way and Stevie, or aunt Rob. So seeing her, not only talking back after you told her something, but having seen her approach you out of her own will, it made his mind stop worrying for just a second. Lua’s social ability was just as good as his in that moment.

The thought made him smile to himself.

“We should check if our’s is done.” He mumbled to Lua’s ear as he started swinging his chest again, hugging her tightly as he felt how she was starting to get heavier. “That way you can stop wearing dada’s shirt.” He looked attentive at your face, waiting for your reaction.

He felt better when he didn’t see nothing but a compassionate smile.

Eddie was also used to people thinking he wasn’t the dad, maybe an uncle, maybe an older brother. Eddie was also used to people opening their eyes wide as soon as they hear dad when referred to him.

But you didn’t.

Truth be told, it did shock you a bit. But the little girl was a carbon copy of him. The same wide smile and wild hair. And the world was mean and complicated enough, you didn’t need to make it harder for someone you had just met.

“We’ll see you around?” He asks, with a hopefulness on his voice that you’re not too sure what it means, or what you actually want it to mean.

“Yeah, I moved in a while ago so…” He nodded as he pointed at the little trailer right in front of yours.

“That’s us.”

“Way!” Lua blurted out as she looked back at where she called home, and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle and give her a kiss on her temple.

“Yes! And uncle Wayne too.” You noticed that his tone is sweeter, calmer and a bit higher when he talks to the little girl on his arms than when he talks to you. “If you ever need anything…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, the end of it implied, and you’re left nodding, telling him that if they ever need anything you’re here too, waving bye to Lua as she looks over Eddie’s shoulder, her little hand waving back.

You finish hanging your laundry dry, as you think about what just happened.

You had finally made friends that weren’t work related, and one of them was a baby. You sort of chuckle to yourself. It felt stupid, but it also felt good, knowing someone here, and that someone being nice, and kind.

It felt as if you were finally on the right path.

“Bug, please?” Eddie whined for the fourth time, while Lua was still on the higher part of the couch, looking out the window.

She shook her head again, Wednesdays were always the longest days in the Mudson household. Eddie took another big breath, while he looked at his wrist watch once again, afraid he’ll be late if he doesn’t leave soon.

“Okay… You can either stay here with uncle Way, or you can come with dada to the garage. Please?” He bargained, for the last time, begging to some higher power she’ll climb down the sofa.

He could scream out of excitement once she finally did.

“friend?” She asked, in a mumble as she pointed out of the door.

She had been doing that for a while now, ever since Eddie had found Lua in your yard, she kept asking to go see you, for some reason that escaped Eddie’s mind, her little girl seemed to have an infatuation with you.

Eddie sat down on the floor now, and Lua started walking closer to him, he laughed in defeat as she giggled, her little steps approaching him.

“Once I get back from work, deal?”

Eddie held his hand out, waiting for her to shake it as she usually did when she knew she had won whatever she wanted -which happened frequently- but accepted with glee once she tried to hug him, with her usual clumsiness. Her arms not quite reaching the back of his neck until he helped her up.

He enjoyed this little moment.

Holding her close while nothing else was going on. A long day ahead of him that he wasn’t totally ready for, but then again he wasn’t really ready for a lot of things that he ended up being capable of.

Wayne’s steps broke the small intimate moment.

“You made a friend, Lua?” He asked as she giggled at the sight of him, even if he still was half asleep, Wayne always seemed to have more than enough energy for her.

“She did.”

“Who?”

“New girl.” Eddie nodded at the trailer that could be seen through their window.

“Huh.” Wayne had never been a man of many words, but the way his facial expression changed usually left nothing to the imagination. In this case, it was a warning. An overprotective warning.

“She seems nice. Lua approached her.” She smiled, as she always did when she heard her own name. Eddie knew that she liked to be included, no matter what. Maybe that’s why he tried so hard.

“You did?” Wayne’s eyes opened wider, as he squatted down to meet her eye level, she wobbled her way into him, as she giggled once again. She had a secret power, or at least that’s what Eddie thought, to make everyone happy.

“Friend!” She said again, pointing at where she had last seen you.

“Okay bug, see you in a bit?”

“Lo you.” She muttered as she waved bye, Eddie’s heart warmer as he opened the door and blew her a kiss.

“Love you too, bug.” Eddie opened the door, stopping on the frame as he always did, checking his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed with him.

“Kid, if you plan on going over, make sure she’s okay with it. Not a lot of people are.” It was another warning, his left eyebrow raised, his tone sharper. Eddie just nodded.

And before he knew it, he was already on your door, knocking and hoping you’re actually home.

You were, and the nocks on your door wake you up. You had always been a light sleeper. You found your way out of your bed, and you didn’t care if your hair was a bit knotted than usual, messier or that your eyes were still adjusting to the light creeping through your windows. You opened the door and there he was. Tall, handsome Eddie, in his washed up jeans and his white shirt that had some small car grease marks on it. His opened blue short sleeve shirt with the little name tag made you smile internally.

“Sorry.” He muttered, as soon as you made eye contact with him.

He took a second, you stood there, sleep still present on your face and overall demeanor, but what caught his attention -even if he tried not to- were your naked legs, barely covered by an oversized shirt that you evidently used as a sleep shirt. Still, you looked pretty, he thought. He also felt bad that he had woken you up.

“S’kay. Morning.” You half joked as you smiled up at him, your head resting against the door frame, your arms crossed over your chest, the air making you feel a bit colder than you were deep in your sheets.

“Yeah, morning.” He was left speechless. He wasn’t sure why, but all of a sudden he wished he hadn’t knocked. So you could be resting, being face to face with you, he could see the little bags under your eyes, and he imagined how much you were enjoying getting to sleep in.

“You knocked to tell me good morning?” If you hadn’t had a smile on your lips, or your voice wasn’t as sweet and soft as it was, Eddie would have felt even worse. When in reality it made you inexplicably happy that he was the reason you had woken up.

“No, yeah, sorry.” He chuckled in a nervous manner once again. “Uh, Lua has been asking for you, and uh… I’m done at work early today, and if it’s not too weird and if it’s okay we could come for a bit after, don’t worry if you don’t feel like it i-”

“I’d love that.” You cut his nervous and anxious rambling off. “I’m free today, so I can go pick up some things for her?”

Eddie relaxed, his shoulders dropping and his smile finally appearing.

While you had to try hard to hide your excitement.

“You don’t have to…”

“Shut up. She deserves it.”

Even if you weren’t aware of it, that was the best thing you could have said to him. But truth be told, you were actually excited, you had been thinking about him, and the promise of a new friendship since you had met him, so this? It felt like the perfect excuse.

“What time were you thinking?”

“Uh, I dunno, my shift ends at around six, so maybe…”

“I’ll have snacks ready by six then, don’t worry.”

He was way more thankful than he could express, but he tried his best anyway.

“Thank you princess, it means a lot. Truly.” That nickname rang in your ears for a while, the same way it did when he had called you pretty. It was made obvious that you had liked it by the way you were starting to blush.

“Don’t worry Edds.” You stayed just like you were for a second longer. Looking at him, and the way his dimples were showing when he smiled as wide as he did, and a spark in his eyes he seemed to reserve for you. “Hope you have a good day at work.”

He was the one blushing now, and the one he was left with the way you had called him Edds, the sound of your voice present on his ears for a while after he had started driving. It wasn’t until he arrived at the garage, when he realised he was smiling at nothing, like an idiot.

You might have gone a bit overboard.

You had gone into town, and before you knew it your fridge was now filled with various juices and milk. The good ones that you usually didn’t buy for yourself. You had thought about baking a cake, but you ended up deciding that that felt too much as a birthday type of treat, so you went for your comfort recipe.

The cookie dough was already done, and you were chopping up the chocolate bar into smaller bits. You hated dark chocolate, so milky sweet one was the only acceptable one.

Morrisey’s voice kept you company as you mutter along the lyrics.

You looked over your little home, you had cleaned, deeply. Afraid that Eddie would judge you, or that Lua would somehow hurt herself or something could happen to her. You tend to do that, over worrying about things you can’t really control.

Then again, Eddie was doing the same thing.

A quick shower, fresh clothes, and hair almost dry. Lua looked up at him with excitement, as he tried to find something else for her to wear. She had a tendency to steal his shirts when he wasn’t there, in an attempt to be close to him, or at least that’s what he thought. So the negotiation began.

“Bug, which one?” On his left hand he had a light blue dress that Joyce gave him a few years ago, on his right he had a newer pair of overalls. She stood there, shaking her head as she hugged the shirt she was already wearing. “You need to get dressed if you want to go see your new friend, bug.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, as soon as she realised they were going to see you, she pointed at the overalls and had no issue getting ready.

Thank god for you, he thought. It had never been that easy, normally Lua hated changing clothes, especially when she was already comfortable. But this time, she didn’t only do it, she helped, and was excited to.

Lua wasted no time, her hands hitting your door as hard as she could, which resulted in soft knocks you still heard.

“Hi.” She beamed up at you, holding her arms open for you, her voice higher than you remembered. It might be her childish excitement, or at least that’s what you think.

“Hi Lua.” You met her level of excitement as you squatted down so you could meet her, her arms trying to hug you, waiting for you to help her get up so she could do it. Used to this type of hug with her dad.

Speaking of, Eddie was speechless. Mainly because Lua doesn’t really hug people that are not him, or Wayne. Steve maybe had gotten two or three hugs, she usually blew kisses. Also he wasn’t sure if you actually wanted them there, or were just being nice, but that doubt went away as soon as he heard your voice, and saw the way you smiled at her.

He also was pretty sure that he could smell cookie dough.

Lua found her way in, passing you by as you greeted Eddie. She didn’t have time to waste, her curiosity always winning. In her defense, your house was full of colour, and she wasn’t used to it. Every pillow was a different colour, and they were everywhere. Your couch was green, which she didn’t even know that was a possibility. Your walls had photos, and posters, and drawings. She had so much to look at she was grinning from ear to ear, laughing as she moved around.

Eddie did the same, in a more discrete manner. He found his way in the middle of your living room, he looked at the stacked shelves, they were full to the brim, various fantasy books that he recognised -mainly because he had already read them- cassette tapes and vinyls also shared a big portion of space. He smiled to himself everytime he knew a group that you seemed to like. Your vhs collection also caught his eye. You, on the other hand, were left there, holding your hands in an anxious manner, not too sure what to do now. Seeing how father and daughter act the same in different ways.

“You’re listening to the Smiths?” He asked, once he caught on to what was playing.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll uh… turn it off.” You became embarrassed, knowing that probably he didn’t like that type of music, or maybe it was too loud. Eddie smiled, shaking his head no.

“No, it’s fine. Lua likes them, that’s all.” You looked down at her, and relaxed once you saw her dancing along. She was moving up and down, kind of in tune with the music.

The little timer started, letting you know that the cookies were now done.

“Lua, you like cookies?” She didn’t even need to say anything, her eyes opened as she heard the word, she walked next to you, Eddie following closely.

He grabbed her up, letting her sit down on the counter. He was grateful all the trailers were the same, that way he knew -kinda- where everything was.

“Carefull, bug. It’s hot.”

“Hot.” She repeated, pointing at the baking sheet that you took out, fresh golden chocolate chips came out. “For me?”

“Well, not all of them.” Eddie answered, with an amused tone in her voice that made you chuckle in response.

“We have to wait for them to cool down a bit.” You told her as you placed them on a plate, the tips of your fingers slightly burning.

“Why?” Her eyes opened in wonder, not really following you.

“‘Cause when they’re too warm, they can give you a belly ache.” You explained to her, earnest in your tone, as you touched your own stomach.

“Only five minutes, bug.” Lua turned around, looking at Eddie with a confused look. “You can wait five minutes right?” She looked at him, slowly. You couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing the way they share the same look between them.

You were on the couch.

Eddie didn’t count it as cuddling, not really.

You were just sitting down next to him, his arm brushing yours, as you both looked between the T.V that was playing ‘Arthur and the Stone ’- you had a tendency to collect VHS, and the style and drawings had pulled you to buy it. You didn’t have an excuse until now to watch it, so you were just enjoying it as much as Lua did- and the little one, who was enamored by the story, while she colored in one paper lazily.

Eddie had become a bit too comfortable. His body feeling heavier, warmer, he was on the verge of falling asleep. That same feeling shot sirens on his head. This felt too nice, too normal, too usual. He could get used to this, and that wasn’t good.

He didn’t really know you.

Eddie knew where you lived, how your living room looked, that you worked almost everyday -though he still didn’t know where-, and that you were incredibly nice. And sweet.

Eddie also knew that Lua trusted you, and for now, that was enough.

It was enough that you had taken time out of your day so you could bake them cookies, or buying the expensive juice that you had taken them in as if they had always belonged there.

Lua giggled and Eddie’s eyes opened, seeing how she was pointing at the T.V when the boy turned into a squirrel, and the way she looked up at you, wanting to see your reaction. He was happy, more than he had been in a while.

You were sinking deeper into the cushions. Deeper into him and this familiarity. You could get used to this, but you weren’t unsure if you should. You enjoyed spending time with them, and this was fun, but then again, it was scary. It scared you, the thought of it going wrong, or you doing something you weren’t supposed to, it was a bit too much.

While you were sitting down there, with him that close, his smell lingering in the air, his warmness by your side, the risk of this crush evolving into something else was too much.

You didn’t care. Not at all.

Neither did Eddie. Not even a little bit.

part 2 is up!

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

requests! are open

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slavicviking · 1 year

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Dipping my toes in the ‘oblivious Eddie has no functioning gaydar which results in mild miscommunication’ genre of the Steddie experience, hope you enjoy!

Ao3 extended version

“My, my, are my eyes deceiving me? Steve Harrington himself has graced these sinful halls?”

Instead of a sneer Eddie’s been expecting, Steve’s face lights up with a smile. He lifts his hand to wave at him with much more enthusiasm than expected. Which is… weird since they have maybe talked once when the guy picked up Eddie’s new freshmen from Hellfire. Well, almost as weird as meeting a Harington in a gay bar itself.

“Munson, hi!”

A little dumb-founded, Eddie waves back weakly, his eyes catching the sight of Robin Buckley at the bar behind them. Ah, so there’s the reason Harrington’s here.

“You’re here as an ally, I presume.”

“Uhm, yeah I guess so?” Steve pouts, confused, before smiling again. “You too, then?”

“Sure, let’s say that.”

“Hey, you should sit with us,” Harrington grins as if that’s actually a good idea. Before Eddie manages to think of an excuse, he’s being dragged towards Buckley by the sleeve. “Come on.”

“Munson,” Robin nods at him in greeting, something akin to a mischievous smirk on her face. Why, he doesn’t begin to understand.

“You look good, by the way,” a deep voice whispers into his ear as they set off towards the tables and Eddie has to do everything for his soul not to leave his body. Steve… is being way friendlier than expected. But that’s what it is, he has to remind himself before it gets too dangerous, just guys being dudes.

The ‘us’ in question turns out to be more than just the bizarre Harrington-and-Buckley duo. There’s Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers and some tall guy with the best hair he’s seen, not counting Harrington of course, bless his hair-sprayed soul. They don’t seem all that surprised he’s here at all which - fair enough, but also that he’s here at this table and that he doesn’t know how to explain. Nancy Wheeler, though, ever the enigma keeps shooting him loaded glances. He’s pretty sure she sniffed out his embarrassing crush on, ugh, Steve Harrington and she’s- Jealous maybe? Probably? As if there is a universe where he, Eddie Munson, poses a threat to someone like Nancy fucking Wheeler.

Steve sits himself closest to Eddie, maybe because he’s feeling guilty - as he should be - about throwing him into a table full of basically-strangers or maybe for a different, Harrington-unexplainable reason. The point is, he’s close, Eddie can smell his aftershave and cigarettes and it’s the best and worst thing that’s happened to him.

He keeps talking, too, asking Eddie questions about DnD (and isn’t that a head-scratcher in itself) and what conditioner he’s using because he really likes his hair (as if Steve wasn’t the embodiment of every shampoo commercial ever made). The gin-and-tonic Eddie’s been sipping must’ve been stronger than he thought because he swears he hears Steve saying something like ‘I don’t know, I think you’re really pretty’ at one point.

Eddie is starting to wonder if Harrington, perhaps, has been replaced with a pod person.

There’s a few more attempts at small talk from Steve but Eddie’s too confused and trying so hard to not be hopeful because a second edition of a pathetic crush on a straight dude (Steve, his mind supplies helpfully) is going to be too painful. Harrington seems kind of down afterwards, sliding off his chair and towards the bar which leaves Eddie with an infamous Buckley glare. Followed by an aggravating assault to his shin.

“Ow, Jesus, what the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem?” Robin is quick to retort. “What’s your problem? I thought you had a crush on him! It’s frankly kind of fucking obvious.”

Okay, whoa, rude.

“I don’t,” Eddie sneers back but falters when she levels him with a blank stare. “Fine, I do. Whatever. Way to kick a man when he’s down.”

“Dingus, he’s been all over you for the last hour. He’s been flirting like crazy and you, for some reason, keep shooting him down, what the hell?”

“But-” But he’s straight. Right? He turns to see Steve at the bar and - oh, there’s some guy with curly hair touching Steve’s arm and Steve’s smiling and blushing and- “What?”

That won’t do.

“Go get your man,” Robin says, practically shoving him off his stool to emphasize her point. Eddie scrambles from the floor, ignores the intense looks from the rest of the table and marches towards the bar.

“I’m coming, Stevie.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #st fanfic #ficlet #my writing

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multific · 8 months

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In the High of the Feeling

Mattheo Riddle x Cat Animagus!Reader

Warning: smut, tiny blood play, a hint of breeding kink

Summary: Much like for many animals, heat season was right around the corner for you as well.

A/N: This one has a little Omegaverse feel to it. I did try and make it different but there are similarities. Both parties are +18!

A/N: This can be read as part 2 of this piece.

Being an animagus had its ups and downs.

Your loving and helpful boyfriend, Mattheo was definitely a bonus.

He would help with any difficulties or tried his best to help. No one in the school knew, none of the students beside him at least.

It hadn't been that long since the two of you got together and he realized your secret.

This will be the first spring the two of you will spend together and you were... for a lack of a better word, nervous.

Extremely nervous.

You knew what spring brought.

It brought a new start. Flowers bloom and animals... yeah.

It was rare for an animagus to be so tied to their animalistic side. But you were.

And with spring, came your heat.

A week where you would have the strongest desire to have offsprings.

Ever since you hit puberty, the feeling was there, but lately, as you got older, the feeling got stronger.

And now, that you had a boyfriend, you knew your body and mind will go crazy, you needed to stay away from Mattheo and you needed a way to explain this to him to the best of your ability.

But how do you explain to a horny guy that he needs to stay away from you because for once it will be you who wants to have sex all the time? With the purpose of getting pregnant.

You couldn't let that happen, you were too young.

You understood it was only nature, but still... no.

"Babe? BABE!" the yell made you snap back into reality as you looked at your boyfriend sitting across you by the table. "You have been distracted lately. Do you have another man or something?"

"Nothing like that... it's-"

"Is it a cat-thing?" he asked as he popped a slice of apple into his mouth.

"Actually, yes." you looked around, making sure no one was there to hear you. "Spring is coming." you said with a low voice and he made a face then a sudden realization. You hoped he would understand.

"You are right! More Quidditch!" you wanted to slap him.

You pinched the bridge of your nose as you let out a long sigh.

"No." you said not opening your eyes to look at him.

"No? Then what Princess? You have to go home for the break or something?"

"My heat is coming." you said, straight up, since you knew dancing around the subject won't help.

"What's that?" you finally opened your eyes and looked at him.

You shouldn't have expected for him to understand.

"Spring brings new life. Flowers bloom and animals..." his eyes grew big with realization. "Professor McGonaghall said she would give me a potion to keep my... needs at bay but apparently the very flower that you would need blooms after my heat would be over so..."

"I'm too young to be a father." was what he ended up saying.

"So am I. It's nature, unfortunately, I can't do anything with it. I will have the week off, I already spoke with the teachers. I have so many things to do. I just wanted to tell you to please just... for that week stay away from me. I wouldn't be able to control myself and... I wouldn't want to force you."

"First of all, you would never force me. I do understand your point now, but I'm also very curious. Tell me more about it. What happens? Does it hurt? What do you do? Do you touch yourself?" you could see in his eyes he was genuinely interested.

"It hurts, unfortunately, yes. But it's a very different pain from like a wound. I would say it's like a heartbreak and a broken leg at the same time. I always have a little area that I put together so I can stay there. I put soft things... pillows, blankets and- Oh that reminds me, can I borrow a shirt from you? Your scent might help me." he only nodded as he listened, he was more interested than ever. "So, yeah I just... I do touch myself, yes. It helps with the pain. I'm just worried about what might happen this time."

"Why?" he reached out on the table and held your hand in his. "What would happen this time?"

"Well, now I have you. I have a partner and my body knows that. So I'm nervous about what would happen this time."

"I see. I will give you the shirts. Many of them. When does this... heat start?"

"You can't really pinpoint it out, it's like a period but it should be this weekend/next week that it starts." you smiled at him, happy he didn't find it disgusting or anything.

"I will bring you my clothes tomorrow then."

"Thank you." but he didn't know, you thanked him for another reason.

The next morning you woke up with a strange feeling. Your foggy mind didn't even realize what was happening. You found yourself thinking more and more about your boyfriend, more specifically, him naked.

You were thankful that last night you at least build your comfort place on your bed.

Your entire body felt hot and your mind could only think of one thing.

The dirtiest images flashed in your mind.

You only ever slept with Mattheo a couple times, but now it was all you could think about.

How soft his skin was, how you could run your fingers over his scars, letting him know that it was okay.

How he smelled and felt like.

How amazing he made you feel as he just kept rolling his hips with a steady rhythm.

The images flooded your mind as your imagination ran wild.

You wanted him to ravish you.

To completely fill you up and have your own litter.

You were going insane. You let out a soft moan when there was a knock on your door.

"Princess? I brought the shirts I promised." his voice, his nice voice, his intoxicating voice.

You felt your ears and tail pop out, you felt your eyes change.

You were gone. Your most basic instincts took over as you walked to that door and opened it.

He was saying something, you saw his gorgeous lips move. But you were far too gone to hear it.

When he looked at you, confused, you pulled him in and locked the door behind him, you pulled on his hair, kissing him with all you had.

Your cat-like teeth managed to scare his lips as you now tasted a little blood along with the tobacco he always smoked.

Your hands found his tie as you began to take off his clothes one by one.

"Hey, hey, slow down." he said as he pulled back as he laughed a little.

"You have too many layers." you said, not even looking at him as you began to undo his belt. That is when he jumped back, keeping you at arm's length.

"Why are your ears out?" you put your hand on his forearm as his hand was on your shoulder.

"I need you." you said with the most intoxicating voice Mattheo had ever heard. He did hear you say those words before. He did make you say and moan many things but this. this was different.

Your voice was filled with lust.

"Oh shit, this is it right? Your heat. Fuck." Mattheo looked around, he knew, he needed to go. NOW. "I-I have to... go." he said but by the time he finished you were completely nude in front of him. His eyes were glued to your body.

Men are such easy creatures.

"Matty, I need you." you said again as he looked into your eyes.

"Okay... Okay. I-I have condoms."

"Noooo." you walked over to him, you put your hands around his neck as your mouths were only inches apart. "I need you to fill me up. I want to feel it ooze out."

He grabbed your waist with both hands.

It was all too much for him, he felt himself getting harder by the second.

"I'm so wet Matty, please." he had to gulp, he looked away from you and noticed the arranged pillows on your bed. While he was thinking you took the opportunity to make your final move.

He watched as you walked away from him and towards your bed. With your back to him, you knelt down on the bed and moved to lay down with your ass up in the air. You reached under your body and with two fingers you spread your lips, showing him your wet cunt. Then you moved one finger in and dragged it down, letting out a moan as you touched your clit.

"Please, Mattheo." is all you needed to say as you looked at him with your head on the bed.

He lost.

Thankfully he still had the mind to put on the protection.

"Nooo. No condom." you said but he didn't hear you, his focus was on your pussy.

He jerked himself twice before grabbing your hips and slowly pulling you back, filling you up.

Just what you have been craving for.

You both let out a long moan as he filled you fully. You were finally a little satisfied, feeling his balls slapping onto your skin as his huge cock filled you up to your stomach.

He started off slow, keeping his focus as he felt your tail wrap around his leg then move up his back.

He needed to have control.

You were in a very vulnerable state. He had to remind himself.

But it seemed almost useless because every time you looked into his eyes, his common sense failed him.

Especially when he felt you beginning to move back onto him with rough movements.

"Fuck." he said as he watched you fuck yourself on his cock. "Shit, Babe." but you were a moaning mess.

If he was far too gone, you were beyond.

"Wait." he said as he almost came, in his nearing high, he grabbed the base of your tail which made you yelp in surprise. "Sorry." he said, knowing how sensitive it was, he ran his hand up your spine. feeling the curve in which you were laying.

He loved it.

He loved you.

You patiently waited for him to began moving again, and when he did, oh how magnificent it was.

His movements were fast, you were sure his fingers will leave their marks but you didn't care.

All you wanted is to feel him fill you up.

Then he grabbed your hair and pulled back on it a little. The room was filled with the noises of skin slapping against skin and moaning.

His name was all you could say as he groaned and moaned.

Once again you moved your tail around him as he moved you, laying you down onto your stomach, as he put a pillow under it, raising the place he wanted to reach the most. Your fingers entangled with the sheets as he moved back inside you. His two hands by your side as he continued to ruin your pussy.

"So good." he said. "So fucking good. Look at me." and you obliged, looking at him with your cat-like eyes as he was nearing his end.

"Matty, I'm close." you said as you started to feel the familiar knot in your belly.

Upon hearing that Mattheo knew he needed to set a pace he can keep so you can cum.

He focused on you and you alone, he moved and kissed your shoulder as he felt you tighten.

"Come for me, Kitten." he whispered into your ear as you came with a loud cry. Or, you would have but he put his hand onto your mouth, he felt your sharp teeth gaze along his fingers but he couldn't care.

You felt so tight, warm and wet.

And feeling you cum around him did the trick.

He came with a small shake and a moan as he emptied himself into the condom. However, his instincts did the trick. After, he made long movements as if he was filling you with his cum. Slow and deliberate movements with his softening cock.

It felt like heaven.

You finally came to your senses a lot more but when you felt him placing kisses along your spine, you knew he wanted this as much as you did.

You seduced him, but you didn't feel guilty about it.

It seemed that only for a moment he left you but soon he was laying by your side as he put a blanket over the two of you.

"I could get used to this." he said as you cuddled into his side. "You are so sexy."

"It comes with the heat too, I put off a scent which is attractive for men."

"Nah. It was more than that. You were sexy before. We should have done this earlier, I didn't know you could take it so rough."

"I love you." you said as you closed your eyes, ready for a nap before you need your next round.

"I love you too, Princess. I think I could get used to this. Every year, a week where you cannot keep your hands off of me."

"Two." you said with a very drowsy voice.

"Huh?"

"I have heats twice a year. So, two weeks."

Mattheo looked at the ceiling.

He knew he will need a lot more condoms, he suspected you will wake up within an hour or so and he needed to be ready.

But he can definitely get used to this.

Twice a year.

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ragingbookdragon · 8 months

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Post-mission is always a little rough on Simon. It’s getting back to some semblance of normalcy by sleeping and eating like he didn’t just technically commit a few war crimes. And her, God, if it weren’t for her, Simon doesn’t know where he’d be. Probably still alive, but deadened inside more so than he already thinks himself to be—he’d most likely be an even more hollow specter of a man. She helps, the best she can. Simon doesn’t tell her about the missions (for security purposes as much as it is her mentality), and she doesn’t ask too many questions other than, “Any injuries?” and “Kick some ass?”

He awakens to sunlight, a quiet bedroom, and a digital clock beside him that reads seven-thirty. Simon wonders if there’s something stronger than just chamomile in that tea she makes him drink at night when he isn’t tired, but he feels better than he has in months, so he isn’t complaining.

It does take him a few moments to actually find the desire to move, too warm, too comfortable. Her side of the bed is cool, but the scent of her remains and he rolls over, buries his face in her pillow, and inhales. Simon’s never really understood how shock blankets are supposed to ease someone’s fear, but he does know how the waves of calm seem to roll over him, like he’s laying on the bottom of the ocean, watching the waves as they crash over him, but it’s anything but choppy and rough. Smooth, gentle, loving.

His back aches as bad as his knees do when he finally gets up, but he stretches, pops his bones and joints before slipping on his sweatpants and sweatshirt, hood over his head as he pads into the hallway and listens. It’s a moment before he hears her humming from the kitchen and he follows the sweet sound of her soft voice, leaning against the doorway as he watches her.

Simon likes BLT’s and tomato bisque soup when he comes back from missions. It’s a special dinner she usually makes him, enough that he can have seconds and lunch for the day after, and she sings to herself as she spoons a hearty serving into the bowl on the tray before placing the freshly pressed sandwich on the plate with “Oo oo ah” as she blows on her fingers from the heat. There’s a fresh cup of tea and one of his water bottles with those electrolyte powders in it he loves. Even a fresh flower in a single vase.

A picture-perfect lunch and her smile drops like a sack of bricks, replaced with shock when she turns and sees Simon smiling softly at her from the doorway.

“You’re supposed to be in bed,” she whispers, as if he’s not there. “You’re not in bed.”

He nods. “Your observation skills are stellar, love. Perhaps you actually are learning something.”

Her lids drop in a deadpan stare as she sets the tray back on the counter and points to it, “I made you food, asshat.”

Simon walks over and practically shoves half of the sandwich in his mouth and she merely sighs. “Fhank fou,” he says with his mouth full and normally, she’d make a comment on him chewing and talking with food in his mouth, but he looks at peace and that peace drifts to her as she reaches up, wipes the corner of his mouth as he swallows.

“You’re welcome, Simon.” Her fingers drift to his cheek and she thumbs his cheekbone. “My handsome Ghost.”

His larger hand covers hers and he hums. “No Ghost here, only me.” He gazes into her eyes. “Only Simon.”

Her eyes crinkle around the edges and she steps on her tiptoes to nuzzle her nose to his as she whispers, “My handsome Simon. All mine. Always mine.”

“Always yours, love,” he murmurs back to her, hand still holding hers; he feels safe. “Forever.”

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jinhyun · 5 months

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hii, i was wondering if for the "what are we?" prompts if you could please do some sort of combination of "what do you want us to be?" and "i was hoping we could be more than just friends" with felix? that would be so awesome! thank you <3

“What are we?”

The way you said those words made Felix's heart ache. It was hardly a whisper, for your voice betrayed you and cracked as you stared down to the cold pavement.

This wasn't how either of you expected this night to go. It was supposed to be a fun time; a house party with loud music, lots of people and many drinks to intoxicate your system. You and him were supposed to have a blast and get rid of all the stress you had been feeling lately.

Instead, you found yourselves sitting down on the sidewalk after you had run out one second and he followed you the next one.

Felix sat in silence next to you, concernedly staring into your miserable expression as your eyes remained focused on the ground and wouldn't dare to look back at him — the only sign of you acknowledging his presence right next to you being how you hugged the jacket he had placed over your shoulders a minute ago.

He didn't exactly get what happened. He had been talking to a friend of his he ran into, and then he saw you rushedly crossing the front door. He ran after you before he could even process it, only to be even more confused when he found you sitting down on the sidewalk, looking as if your heart had just been broken.

Still, even with such a look on your face, the words that had so weakly abandoned your lips caught him completely off guard.

He didn't know if he had heard it right. He didn't know what you wanted him to answer, nor did he know what to answer without compromising your entire friendship, which is why he ended up uncomfortably shifting in his place and clearing his throat before his eyes fixed on the house across the road.

“What do you want us to be?” He replied, voice nearly as weak as yours.

“That's not fair” you recriminated.

“What's not fair?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I'm asking you what we are,” your eyes finally fixed on his, and he could see how hurt you actually were. “I want you to answer, not to leave me with the responsibility of choosing”.

“So I'm supposed to choose?” He asked; not mad, but troubled as hell. “I don't know what you want me to say, Y/N”.

“Just, whatever you want us to be”.

“I'm in the same place as you here” his voice trembled. “I don't think my feelings for you could be any stronger, but we're… you're my best friend. I love you so much, Y/N, I don't want us to… risk it all and then lose you, I don't know”.

A bittersweet smile curved up your lips. You knew he loved you, and he knew you loved him. Neither of you had ever said it before, but you hadn't bothered to hide it either. Therefore, it didn't come out as much of a surprise when he confessed it like that.

Both of you were well aware of your mutual feelings, but neither of you dared to actually act up on them, in fear of it meaning to lose one another in the future. You were in love with each other dearly, but you treasured your friendship more.

Up until that night, at least, for things had just changed on your end.

“I love you, too” you confessed back, feeling him take a shaky breath. “And I used to think the same, that I didn't want to risk it all and then lose you”.

“Then?”

“Then…” you sighed, resting your palms on the pavement as you leaned back. “Then I saw the way Yumin looked at you, and how much you laughed with her and how happy you looked back then… and I realised that I was okay with not risking it all and being just friends til the end of times because it didn't cross my mind that at some point you'd be with someone else”.

“I'm not with Yumin,” he shut that idea of yours down immediately. “I just ran into her back there and we were catching up, we're not—”

“It doesn't matter,” you gave him another weak smile, as they seemed to be the only ones you had left. “You will fall for someone else at some point anyway, whether it's her or not, and I don't think I'll be able to just stand there and keep being your friend”.

“Y/N…”

“I really won't be able to stand it, Lix” your eyes watered. “The mere thought of you and her hurt like hell, what's it gonna be like when you actually do fall for someone else an—”

Your words were cut off by his mouth pressing lightly on yours. Just like that, the fate of your friendship had been settled.

It was the sweetest way you had ever been told to shut up, and you could only sit there and return the kiss after a couple of seconds, when you managed to snap out of it and realised you were in fact not dreaming.

It was delicate, soft, and didn't last long; only enough to stop you from talking nonsense and to let you know just how truly and deeply he felt for you.

“There isn't anyone else,” he whispered once he faintly pulled away. “There won't ever be someone else”.

You closed your eyes, resting your forehead on his and letting his breathing mix up with yours as you took in his words.

You loved him. He loved you. No matter how scared you were of a future without him if things didn't end up working out, you were sure that being so deeply in love with each other and not being together hurt just as much.

It almost seemed stupid not to give in to your feelings now.

“I think I want us to be more than friends…” you murmured, finally opening your eyes to meet his beaming chocolate ones.

Felix smiled, lightly nodding his head as he leaned in once more. “Good,” he pecked your lips. “Because I don't think I can keep myself from kissing you anymore”.

#i changed the second dialogue a bit i hope that's okay!!#skz #stray kids #felix #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #felix imagines #skz reactions #stray kids reactions #felix reactions #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #felix fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #felix scenarios

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manicpixiefelix · 3 months

Text

he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) // epilogue

{ head, heart, hand. masterpost }

Summary: Oliver is haunted by what he's done to get his happy ending in Felix's arms. His guilt is only made worse when he meets the first member of your family to actually remind him of you. Unfortunately, he does not find it to get better from there.

{ context; please read he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) first }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons. YOU ARE ALREADY DEAD IN THIS ONE, but you do get to haunt the narrative. congratulations?

Warnings: discussions of death/overdose, lots of guilt, manipulative oliver, felix being upset, vaguely unhealthy oliver/felix, lotsa angst, oliver quick reckoning with the sunk-cost fallacy.

A/N: 6828 words. first, i don't usually do part 2s when i say something is a oneshot, so this is a rare occurrence. secondly im sorry this is almost 7k there's something wrong with my brain i think. thirdly bro, bro, listen to me; ANGST. HURT NO COMFORT. HURT NO COMFORT. it's soft in the middle THE SOFTNESS IS A LIE. ITS GONNA HURT ALL THE WAY DOWN (apart from nana i love her nd i hope you will too)

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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One hour and fifty three minutes.

Rounded up, because all things considered, he should round it up, that's two hours.

Two hours. Like the blink of an eye in the scope of a whole life. But a very long time when you sit and count it out.

One hundred and twenty minutes. Seven thousand, two hundred seconds. He's always counting two hours, seeing exactly how long it feels like, how he can fill that amount of time. Seconds pass like a steady heartbeat.

He can do a lot in two hours.

Oliver tries to occupy himself nowadays more than ever, and really tries not to be alone, but it's hard. Farleigh left for Oxford. Venetia, before she decided to backpack across Europe and find herself, wouldn't let anyone touch her anymore.

Oliver doesn't like leaving Felix alone, but sometimes he has to be. You're laying cold in a family crypt somewhere next to a grandfather you never knew, and while Elspeth and Sir James don't comment on it, they both scowled when your parents sprung the announcement on everyone at the funeral.

Felix spends a lot of time alone at the edge of the maze. He's making a fairy garden where you had waited. Sometimes he'll drive into town without telling anyone, and come back with quaint, second-hand miniatures to add. It's beautiful, shining with greens and golds when the setting sun hits it just right.

So Oliver finds time to occupy himself, when he's alone and all he can think about is you sitting by the maze. You laying by the maze. You alive when he'd run from the maze. And the two hours that followed.

Sometimes he leans out of his window and shouts to the gardeners so far away they look like ants; even at this distance, his voice carries, and he sees them turn, search for him, ask if he's okay. He is, and he apologises, and he think about how far his voice carries.

On occasion, out of the blue, he'll lift Felix up when he hugs him, able to get his feet off the ground as Felix wriggles and clutches him out of surprise. Of course Felix lifts him with ease in return, spins him around, but that's not the point. Oliver is stronger than he looks; he wonders if he could lift you, could carry you far, if he could have dragged you if it had come to it.

Some nights he wakes up in a fright, your rapid heart rate beneath his fingers and he swears he could hear you whispering for help amid your shallow breathing. Please. Pleading. Begging. You were alive when he'd left you. He presses two finger to Felix's pulse point beside him, and tries to calm his breathing, to focus on Felix's slow, steady heartbeat.

And some days he sneaks into the computer room and curses how long webpages take to load when he looks up statistics on overdoses. Symptoms. Niche forums where he can learn what it felt like from survivors. People luckier than you. Their words, their stories, the recollections of those horrifying sensations stick with him, even as he diligently erases any trace of his browsing history.

And he thinks about how fucking long two hours is.

"Nan's coming over later," Felix tells Oliver idly one Sunday afternoon, "we're having tea of you'd like to join us." They're laying out in the grass, Oliver in the grass finding shapes in the clouds, Felix on his side, chewing on the stick of a lollypop he'd finished an hour ago and gently tracing abstract patterns on Oliver's chest.

"I thought you said your granny haunted Saltburn," when Oliver looks at Felix, he still can't help the way his heartrate picks up. Felix Catton touching him in the most gentle, caring way; he'd never stop feeling lucky for getting here, and never forget what he did to earn it.

Felix's gaze moves with his fingertips, up Oliver's warm, bare chest, twisting two fingers in the delicate chain around his throat. He looks pensive; but shakes his head after a beat.

"Different nan," he says distractedly, plastic straw trapped between his teeth. He tugs the chain experimentally, like he's forgotten it's attached to Oliver at all. He's in his head again; Felix is always in his head nowadays, but there's still often echoes of who he was, echoes of what Oliver has fallen for in the first place.

And he's finding himself falling more and more for this version of Felix too. So he tell himself that it was all worth it.

"Love," all these pet names - Love, Darling, Sweetheart - because if he slips up, tries to call him Fi, Oliver knows he'll only get ice in return, "is everything okay?" Oliver carefully reaches up to cover Felix's large, warm hand by his throat with his own. Felix meets his gaze, and gives a faint smile, an attempt to reassure him when he says he's fine. It doesn't work, but Oliver lets it go, and lets Felix tug him in by his chain for a kiss.

"Tea sounds lovely," Oliver murmurs against his lips.

There's something about this visit has Felix alive and buzzing the he way he hasn't in a very long time. Still he's quiet, but his eyes are bright as he follows behind the staff members setting up tea and biscuits in the garden. He goes through all the DVDs the family has and picks out a stack he thinks would be suitable, making sure they're all perfectly stacked by the DVD player. Oliver floats along behind him, and simply allows himself to admire Felix's energy.

Still, Felix finally takes a moment to breathe right as it becomes noon, and decides to have a bath to freshen up before his guest's arrival; two hours before she'd be here, Felix reminds him.

Two hours.

Oliver feels drawn to his own room. He doesn't allow himself to be alone in Saltburn often anymore, doesn't like the thoughts that crop up when he does. Perhaps it's a kind of punishment, a painful reminder, penance for what he's done.

There's a scrap of paper that he keeps tucked in a book in his nightstand, his own handwriting stuffed amongst a collection of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories, words he'd clung to and scribbled out the minute he'd gotten the chance so he'd never forget them exactly.

From the coroner's report, according to Duncan and Sir James. Time of Death; around 2am. Cause; narcotics overdose, and there were signs of alcohol poisoning.

On the back, he'd written '12:07'.

"Mum and dad both say it was a tragic accident," Felix's voice in the dead of night, the night they'd gotten the full report, riddled with guilt and unspilled tears, betrays his disbelief regarding the sentiment. Felix doesn't talk about how his last words to you were shouted with anger. Felix doesn't talk about how your last words to him were a desperate plea for him through tears. Felix doesn't think that it was an accident; only Oliver knows that he's almost right, just not in the way he thinks. Or dreads. But he has to bite his tongue on the truth, and let the man he loves live with this unjust guilt.

The water starts loudly draining for the tub, and Oliver isn't sure how long he's been sitting on the edge of his bed with his eyes squeezed so tightly shut, but he scrambles to stuff the page back into the book, and toss it back into it's drawer. He can smile again, and admire whatever outfit Felix chooses for the rest of the day, and pretend like he doesn't feel your rapid heartbeat or hear your shallow breathing every time he touches that paper, like he had the night he left you.

With the hour drawing ever closer to two, Felix keeps checking his watch. The minute he deems it to be time, he gives up all pretence of small talk - which had been another thing severely lacking as of late - and snatches Oliver's hand, pulling him through the house. They even outstripped Duncan and the footmen by the door when there comes a firm knock. Its the only time Oliver has ever seen any of the Cattons open the doors for themselves.

And it's not Felix's grandmother.

"Hi, nan," Felix sounds so genuinely happy as he hugs the older woman at the door with a warm smile and your eyes.

Oliver feels like he's frozen, like he's seeing a ghost. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Duncan actually standing aside, giving Felix and your grandmother a quietly fond smile.

"I swear you get taller every time I see you, oh, my lovely boy," she says with a warm laugh that sounds so damn familiar, "or maybe I've been shrinking, you get to my age and people tend to do that," and Felix laughs, actually fucking laughs. Oliver realises it's been a long time since he'd heard Felix give a proper laugh like that. As the hug ends, Felix let's her tuck her arm in his as she continues, "just you wait, one day you'll only be six-foot tall." Another laugh, and Oliver can see how genuine and broad he's smiling, how his eyes shine when their gazes meet. She's surprisingly sprightly for her age, it seems. Oliver recognises your grandmother from your funeral, but hadn't made the connection at the time, so he's surprised when Felix goes to introduce him and her eyes sparkle with recognised.

"Nan, I don't know if you've been properly introduced, but this is -"

"Your Darling, Oliver," and it's said with such warmth; her hug feels almost like home, "you strange, little thing," she laughs, "it's called a hug; are you not a hugger? I should have asked," but she doesn't apologise, nor does she let go for a few more beats. Oliver gives into this moment, closes his eyes tightly and hugs her back.

"Our Darling Oliver," Felix echoes with such admiration, and when Oliver opens his eyes, it's the first time since you'd passed where his gaze has held only the love and pride Oliver had been craving since he'd first laid eyes on him.

Once Nana - she'd insisted Oliver call her that too - lets him go, she tucks her arm in his, and is waving Felix over to her other side, briskly asking where tea was to be held. Duncan leads the way and she fawns over him too, apparently downright overflowing with love for Saltburn and everyone and everything in it. She talks more than she doesn't, but considering who Oliver is and who Felix has become, that suits them both just fine.

It's been too long since they've had tea together, she insists, and doesn't talk about why exactly that would be. She doesn't bring you up, not while you were all making your way through the house, but once she's settled outside, she takes a moment. The way she looks at Oliver in this moment makes him queasy; the smile, that look in her eyes, the way her gaze takes all of him in. A woman, whose time is so precious to her, taking her time to make him feel seen. Felix is quiet, intrigued by the exchange.

Your phantom heart beats beneath Oliver's fingertips.

"You're Y/N's grandma," Oliver says quietly, breaking the tension. Present tense still, they all play pretend. She smiles, and finally leans back. The moment is broken; Felix pours them each a cup of tea. Nana takes a jammy dodger and looks over the gardens with a smile.

"Of course, dear," she says sincerely, taking a bite of the biscuit, but being so eager to talk that she spoke through half a mouthful, "and when they were thirteen they told me I was Felix's grandmother too, because they'd overheard Felix's mum talking about how she hoped they'd get married some day." Felix snorted a laugh at that, turning pink around the ears as he prepared everyone's tea, as if on autopilot.

"Does that -" Oliver begins awkwardly, but he tries to smile, "do you think in time, they would have ask the same of you about me?"

"Considering how they spoke about you," there's a twinkle in your Nan's eyes as she turns back to him, smile knowing, "there's absolutely no doubt in my mind, my dear." All you had ever done was love him; love him and stand in the way of the love he desperately craved.

Oliver watches his tea for a long while, spinning the ornate cup on its matching saucer, while your Nana almost immediately picked hers up and took a tentative sip. Watching out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver notes the way her face goes on a journey of emotions, from pleased, to confused, to a sudden realisation as she looks to her cup.

"I should have asked you how you liked your tea," Felix realises too late, apology in his voice as Nana puts her cup down with a forlorn, yet fond look.

"No, darling, it's nice to know you know how my grandchild liked their tea," and she holds her cup delicately, looking into it's warm, brown depths, "just the same as I always made it for both of us when they were much, much younger."

"I am so sorry to ask," Oliver hears himself blurt out, unable to help himself, "but how does all this love just skip a generation?" It comes out far worse than he intends it to; he means to ask how someone so loving as you come from parents so uncaring, yet how did either of those parents turn out the way they did when the woman in front of him was clearly bursting with just as much love as you had been. Thankfully, instead of being offended, your grandmother laughs.

"My daughter is a wonderful, intelligent, compassionate, impressive woman," she begins, but sighs with unmistakable disappointment, "but my late husband was never capable of even trying to be a father over pursuing his own interests, and it's one of the few traits she actually inherited from him," she shook her head, "and she went on to fall in love with a man who loved her but suffered from that exact same defect," after a beat, she looked up with a warm, reassuring smile, "it's why I love Y/N so fiercely, and so hard," her grin turns soft and adoring, looking between the two boys before her, "the only way my daughter has ever disappointed me is as a mother, but I will never be disappointed in Y/N as my grandchild."

Oliver knows there's tears in his eyes, and Felix has ducked his head. Immediately Nan begins apologising, realising she'd set both of them off. Despite this, Oliver tries to wave her away, insisting it's fine, before he asks about her; he's heard bits and pieces he thinks, but Y/N had always been so cagey about their family. Honestly he's surprised that your grandmother knows so much about him when he feels like he's barely heard about her.

Despite turning out to be an incredibly decorated artist, with paintings selling for more than Oliver's pretty sure his own family's house is worth, your Nana is quick to downplay her own successes, simply insisting that it took decades of hard work. Again, he sees you in her eyes.

"We've got a few up around the house," Felix adds, "most of them actually from before we even met Y/N," and your Nana gives him a shove, as if flustered and embarrassed by the idea. But Felix is beaming, happy to be showing off her accomplishments, just as he always took joy in celebrating you; "there's one in your room."

"What?" Oliver asked, and your grandmother also seemed surprised, though touched by the thought.

"It used to be their room, actually, but Ollie moved in there, so Y/N was staying with me," he explains a little awkwardly, wanting to skim around as many implications as he could. Thankfully she doesn't comment. All she asks is which one. Felix and Oliver both think about the room; Felix about the few pieces of art on the walls, Oliver about your time of death in the drawer. You were alive when he left you -

"That one of the stars, and that person smoking; I think you actually gave it to them as a gift," he frowns for a beat, "for when they turned seventeen, I think?"

Oh, Oliver knows that one. It's enchanting, blues so deep, so rich it's like you could swim in them, stars that seemed to actually glow on the canvas, and the hazy, dark outline of the window in the foreground, and part of a figure against the windowsill, lit cigarette the lone spot of fire, of red or orange, that makes everything else warmer for it.

"That one really surprised me actually," Nana admits, giving Felix a shrew smile, though he only seems confused, "did they ever tell you anything about it?"

"Said you painted it for them; pretty sure I remember them crying about it," he says fondly, reminiscing, "one of the best gifts they ever got, I'm not lying, they say it every year. It's beautiful." Then, as if recalling what she'd actually said, he looks at her curiously, "surprised you?"

Her smile widened into something both knowing, and endeared.

"I asked them to send me a photo, a postcard, their very best drawing, anything, as long as it was their favourite place in the world - do you really not recognise it?" The tea and biscuits are gone by now, the tea portion of their afternoon is coming to a close. Felix shook his head, almost looking like a lost child, as if he was aware there was something he was supposed to be understanding but couldn't quite get it, "Felix, my dear boy, they sent me a photo of you; that's their dorm room window from boarding school."

Felix looks winded, and a bit like he's about to cry.

"Oh you two were impossibly sweet," she reaches over and holds his hand tightly, looking over to Oliver earnestly, "you take care of this dear boy and his heart, you hear me?"

"Yes," Oliver all but trips over his words to agree, "of course, nan." And she gives him a pleased grin.

They move indoors after this, Felix quiet but lending his arm to Nana, which she takes, while she explained that usually you and Felix would visit a few times a year when they were on break, but she thought it would be best to come to Saltburn this time, given the circumstances.

"You should come see the place when you get the chance," she insisted, patting Oliver's hand.

"It's mostly where Y/N was raised before they ended up staying at Saltburn," Felix supplied with a grin, piquing Oliver interest.

"Y/N's childhood home? Oh I have to see that," he grins, and your grandmother grins brightly for a long moment.

"I'm sure Y/N would love that, they can give you the grand tour -" but her face falters, falls, as if she'd just remembered. Sombre silence, the spell is broken. "I'd love to have you around, dear," she corrects, much softer this time.

Felix lets her pick a movie, while Oliver settles himself awkwardly on the sofa. He wants to reach out to Felix, to touch his cheek, feel his boyish smile and know that it's real. But Felix isn't really even looking at him. There's something childlike about his enthusiasm here, about how he sits on his knees on the floor, watching with rapt attention as your grandmother pores over them. He practically glows as she praises his choices. When she picks one, she hands it over and he scrambles on all fours across the short floor space to the DVD player, fumbling with the case like he can't put it in fast enough. There's a softness in your grandmother's eyes as she watches the boy who has seemingly forgotten the man he is; when she looks at Oliver, its like he sees her asking how easy is he to adore, what a beautiful young man.

"You don't mind watching a movie do you, Oliver, dear?" She asks, though it's clearly an afterthought. He's already shaking his head, assuring her it's fine. Felix is already scrambling back, remote in hand. Oliver tries to make space for him on the sofa between himself and your Nana, but he seems content to sit on the floor in front of her, leaning back against the sofa with her knees gently pressed against either of his shoulders. Handing her the remote, Felix twists to give Oliver an expectant smile.

"Come here, mate," he insists, patting his lap, his legs kicked out in front of him. At Oliver's obvious confusion, Felix blinks for a few moments. It's like he's waking from a dream. His face falls, he goes to apologise, strained smile on his face, "sorry, I know that's weird, you don't have to -"

Slowly, Oliver moves from the sofa, sitting beside Felix on the floor. Your grandmother's knee is pressed gently to his back, but he's not quite sure if he's capable of relaxing enough in this moment to mind. She's playing with Felix's hair, having already started the movie.

"This is what you and Y/N would do," Oliver said softly, and rested his head on Felix's shoulder. Felix takes his hand, and laces their fingers together.

"Do you like it when people play with your hair, Oliver?" Your grandmother asks idly.

"Um, sometimes," he answers, still feeling rather awkward. He hears her chuckle warmly.

"It's okay if you don't want me to; Felix likes it so much he lets me braid it when it's long like this."

"Oh, I know Felix loves it," Oliver hears himself agree, "if he were a cat he'd be the kind to purr any time someone scratched between his little cat ears." And while both he and your grandmother share a fond laugh, he can hear Felix's smile in his words. He gives Oliver's hand a squeeze.

"I can't even argue; I wish I could purr right now."

Oliver wants to bottle this moment forever, keep it locked tight in his chest.

But the movie is a long one. One hour and fifty six minutes. Two hours rounded up. A whole two hours. Enough time to fall asleep with his head in Felix's lap the way they both said you used to. He wakes with your heartbeat in his ears, rapid, alive, left for dead.

"You okay buddy?" Felix looks at him with genuine love and concern; it's been such a long time since he'd seen that look, even with everything that had been happening, "I'm here, you're okay," he assured. Over by the television, putting the remote back, your grandmother glances over at the interaction with a warmth that makes Oliver feel queasy in this moment.

And he'll look up from the book, from his notes from the coroner's report crammed in, obscuring the end of one story while The Tell-Tale Heart begins on the other. Felix will be getting ready for bed in the other room, but he won't sleep there. He can't sleep there. Can't sleep in that bed without you, can't move the costumes from that night that hang side by side as a reminder of the hole you'd left behind in his life. Oliver will read approximately two am in his own messy handwriting, and look at the digital clock on his bedside that had read 12:07 when he'd crashed into his room and locked the door and sunk down against it. The numbers had been shining red in the darkness. On the wall behind, that starry night sky and the hint of Felix and his cigarette; a home you'll never return to hung up in the home you'll never truly leave.

He put enough coke in that bottle to kill a fucking lion. He'd given you the bottle. He'd told you he loved you. He'd left you like that.

He knew you were dying.

He'd left you alive.

Two hours.

The book snaps shut. In the silence he thinks he hears your breathing. Please, Ollie, help. Paranoia is a cruel thing, he has to tell himself; paranoia and guilt.

"Can I ask you something?" Felix joins him just as he's putting the book back in it's drawer. Oliver, heart beat racing - never as fast as the memory of yours, oh now it's all he can think about again - nods quickly. Felix sits on the end of the bed, clearly preoccupied, fussing with the buttons of his pyjama shirt. The days are getting cooler now; Oliver misses his bare skin against his, but he still feels too precarious to make such an observation.

"It's about Y/N," Felix swallows, can't meet his eyes, "about that night." Oliver feels his mouth go dry; the worst fucking night of his life. The night he doesn't know if he'll ever figure out if he regrets all he'd done.

He nods again.

"Were you the last person they spoke to?" It's like Felix is forcing himself to not shy away from this moment, giving Oliver the attention he thinks he deserves for such an important question. Then, after swallowing hard, he can't help but drop his gaze, "why," he can barely get it out, there's already a lump in his throat, "didn't they come into the maze too?" Oliver can't even give him that.

You'd been such a mess on your way to the maze, even with Oliver supporting you. Crying, furious, apologetic; you were everything at once. Even when you couldn't bring yourself to go in, everything about you had been sliding from one emotion to the next. But then it had stopped.

"I can wait for Fi here." It's the most sure that he'd seen you all night. It's when he knew. It had to be you, even if he loved you too. He'd never forget how clear your smile was, how sincere you'd urged him into the maze to follow the tail of what he thought was right. The sight of you, waiting, obedient and loyal for your master to return; "I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

Oliver knew before he'd even entered the maze that Felix's return to you would be too late.

In the present, Felix waits too, diligent, expectant. Oliver thinks about lying. Oliver thinks about how the truth will break his heart. Oliver thinks about how close Felix will hold him in his guilt riddled grief.

"I don't think they wanted to interrupt -" Oliver tries to start, but Felix immediately swears, hangs his head.

"Can't fucking believe I did that," he spits, "I was angry, and off my fucking face, sure, but that was fucking low, even for me," he admitted, pitching himself back on the bed, whole face scrunched up with guilt, barking out an upset fuck far louder than the others, prompting to Oliver to tentatively ask what he means. Felix took a moment, as if forcing himself to calm down, before he admits, voice low like he was sharing a secret, "I never even took Eddie into the maze," he sighed. After a beat, he conceded, "no, okay I did, but we didn't do anything - we made out a bit, but -"

"You didn't fuck you ex-boyfriend in the maze," Oliver connected the dots quickly, "but you did fuck your best friend's ex-not-girlfriend who you kind of stole from them, out of spite after kicking them out of your the bed you've been sharing all Summer?"

"Fucking hell, Ollie!" Felix sounds especially wounded when he lays it all out like that.

"Sorry," immediately, Oliver apologises, knot in his stomach when he hears Felix's pained tone. He wonders if this was what it was like for you all through the night of his birthday. Fuck, he can't think about that.

"No, but you're right," Felix admits, eyes finally opening, looking all hurt and vulnerable. Oliver lays himself down next to Felix, going the other way, both of them looking up at the ceiling. Oliver's hands rest on his chest, trying again, softer this time.

"So was a special place to them?" He gets no response other than a guilty nose from Felix, "you think that's why they wanted to wait by the entrance?"

"They wanted to wait for me," Felix says weakly, clearly in his head about that night once more, "didn't want to interrupt even as I was fucking defiling our-" but he catches himself turning bitter again, mouth snapping closed, "after everything I said that night," he mumbles, "fucking hell," he chokes out. The pain in his voice is audible. This is the sweet spot, Oliver thinks.

"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver whispers amid Felix's faint sobs.

"What?"

"You asked me what their last words were," Oliver told him as softly as he could manage; Felix sits up, eyes wide, distraught, so full of guilt and love and - "only thing they were properly coherent about; waiting for you," Oliver props himself up, reaches out to wipe a tear from Felix's cheek.

"You're not- Ollie, please tell me you're not kidding," Felix practically begs.

"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver reiterates, making sure to meet Felix's gaze as he holds his face, "'s the last thing they said- they said; I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

God he can see it in Felix's eyes; it's like the man's entire world crashes down around him. But he clings just as Oliver had hoped he would. As Felix holds him tightly, Oliver can't look at the glaring, red numbers of the clock on his bedside, the constant reminder of the two hours where he could have done something. Two hours and those wouldn't have been your last words.

He looks at the painting. At the stars. At Felix and his cigarette and your idea of what home looks like. The stars look just like they did that night. Just as bright. Oliver closes his eyes. Guilt twists people into shapes they don't often recognise; Oliver just holds Felix, hopes they twist into something together.

Except Oliver's guilt isn't the kind that twists, it's the kind that bites. It's like moths, eating him from the inside out. The guilt leaves him with jagged edges and thoughts he'd rather not be having; there are shades of Felix Catton that he loves, but shame and revulsion bites just behind the guilt as the months pass and he realises more and more this is not what he wanted. This is not the Felix he wanted.

Felix is like an echo, like the sun without it's warmth; he can look just the same, smile, talk, charm just the same if it was required of him, but there was something clearly missing from every interaction. Guests to Saltburn would pull his parents aside and ask if everything was alright. He is, but he is not the same as he once was.

Every day Oliver looks in the mirror and sees something grotesque behind his eyes that no-one else seems to notice. Felix Catton was meant to be the prize, the one who tossed aside everything but the best, the one who made the world fight for his attention, and feel heartbroken when he merely looked the other way. After all this, Felix Catton was not someone Oliver expected to be bored by.

Oliver Quick had lied for, lied to, betrayed the trust of, worked to gain the trust back of, loved, made fall in love with him, and literally murdered the love of his life who he also loved and was themselves also in love with Oliver while still considering Felix the love of their life, just to get a chance to spend his life by Felix fucking Catton's side. He wasn't allowed to not want this.

Felix smiles at him, says he loves him, fucks him, but it's not the dream Oliver once had. Something is always missing. No. Oliver deliberately took that thing away. But he can never admit that, nor can he ever regret that; too far gone. Oliver doesn't want to talk about the past, Felix can't being himself to talk about the future. Trapped together in the present, living lives that no longer feel like enough. Their routine becomes suffocating. Even Venetia, the few times she's stopped back at Saltburn, can barely manage a disdainful look, as if merely inconvenienced by Oliver's presence.

The growing apathy of the estate and it's occupants is exhausting. The cost of this lifestyle has long since surpassed it's value. He's even bored of being haunted. Two hours feels like fucking nothing when the days drag on the way they have been. Behind his eyelids he doesn't see you begging for help, you hiss for him to run, to get out.

He should have listened.

"Ollie, can I show you something I found?" Felix sounds bright today, and though Oliver wants to roll his eyes at the idea of anything in this house being new or novel enough to show off, he smiles back instead.

"'course Felix, what is it?"

Except Felix isn't smiling at him. Felix is looking far more serious and determined, sitting on the edge of their shared bed. Oliver immediately frowns.

"Have you been hiding something from me, Ollie?" It's a trap; a forced confession. Oliver shakes his head, plays dumb. Felix takes a deep breath, the kind that shifts his whole body, his expression remaining firm, "before I show you this thing, I want you to be honest with me; you promised you wouldn't lie to me anymore, you remember?" Oliver tries to lighten the mood, leaning against the window with a warm smile.

"Of course, my lovely Felix, no more lying," he assures, but the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with the way Felix remains quiet.

"What's seven-past-twelve mean?" Felix is watching him closely; too closely. Scrutinising his every move. It's like Oliver's been doused in ice water, even his tongue frozen in his mouth, "and what's it got to do with what happened on the night of your birthday?"

Felix doesn't even look at the night table as he opens it; his gaze is solely on Oliver. It's clear he'd done this before, pulling out the book, flicking through it's pages, and pulling the delicate, incriminating piece of paper out from where it had been safe for so many months.

"Felix, I-"

"What does twelve-oh-seven mean?"

Oliver is the deer again, trapped in Felix's accusatory gaze. For just a moment, Felix's voice drops, pleading with him for some other explanation, that Oliver wasn't somehow caught up in what happened, more closely, more malevolently than he'd ever said -

"Tell me," there's tears in his eyes, the furious kind, the ones where he's desperate to love and hope against all odds, "Oliver," he pleads through gritted teeth, "tell me you didn't know."

"Know what?" Oliver's voice is a hoarse whisper; he knows he is caught, all he has left now is borrowed time and a desperately silver tongue he doesn't know if he can rely on anymore. But Oliver's tragically weak denial is enough for Felix to all but jump to the right conclusion.

In a rush, Felix has Oliver by the collar of his shirt, pressed to the window -

"You knew they were dying and you fucking left them there."

This is the tipping point, the end of whatever good this had been. Felix could hurt him, Felix had hurt countless people on your behalf, he'd seen it himself. But Felix had always been the bleeding heart; you were the one who had to be kept on a leash. Felix could hurt him, could probably maim him for what Oliver was about to say, but he never shared your stomach for true Machiavellianism.

"Of course I knew," Oliver managed coldly, despite Felix attempting to crush all the air from him, "the amount of coke I gave them in that champagne could have killed a rhino-" it needed to be unforgiveable, the confession, so Felix would let him leave, would never want to see him again. He hadn't expected the force of Felix's rage to have the glass behind him give out.

Oliver falls from the second story window into the hedge garden below. Felix's shouting is tearing through the whole house it seemed, making his way downstairs, while Oliver tries to regain his breath and figure out if anything's broken. He's pretty sure it's not, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt as Felix drags him by his feet from the hedges, demanding at the top of his lungs that Oliver get the fuck out of Saltburn.

Every single person who'd been in the house comes outside to view the commotion, to see Oliver struggling to his feet, to get away from Oliver. Elspeth looks helplessly between the two boys, wondering what happened -

"Tell her what you did," Felix demanded, once more getting into Oliver's space, jabbing at his chest, "tell her what the fuck you just told me -" and Oliver's strength isn't insignificant, but Felix is in a fury, flooded with rage and adrenaline, and he grabs the back of Oliver's shirt like he's scuffing a cat, shoving him towards his mother like an offering. Oliver struggles because he feels like he has to, feels wild, feels feral, but it's the most of anything he's gotten from Felix in so long. His mouth stays shut, won't give him the satisfaction of a confession.

"He killed them," Felix doesn't even let Oliver have his power play before he grows bored. He shoves Oliver just a little, grip unyielding despite Oliver's best efforts, like he means nothing to him. Elspeth and Sir James are confused, looking between them both, but Felix isn't done with stringing Oliver up for all of Saltburn to see, "Y/N; he intentionally dosed their drink and left them to die outside the maze."

The Catton parents immediately look crestfallen; it's the first time in months Oliver's felt genuine guilt again. Oliver stops fighting. Felix lets him go. Elspeth asks him if this is true; that heartbroken hope is going to make him sick.

"Just send me away already," he drops his head.

"Oliver," Elspeth's voice is firmer this time; when he looks up, she's stepping towards him, tears in her eyes despite how hard she's clearly trying to hold herself together, "is Felix telling the truth?" Is this it? Is this the final gate to his freedom from Saltburn.

"Yes."

Elspeth slaps him so hard her ring draws blood. Oliver hadn't thought that was even possible, but his head is ringing from the collision.

"Get. Out." She hisses with absolute malice as he's hunched over, clutching his face. Felix is by his mother's side in a heartbeat, arm around her, looking at Oliver with contempt. Behind them, Sir James is ordering Duncan and the other staff members to get Oliver off of the property as quickly as possible, but the look in Elspeth's eyes is burning, "this is my family, you monster."

At first, it almost feels worth it to leave Saltburn. To leave the Cattons and their bullshit and their games behind. He thinks he knows them well enough to trust that they don't want the kind of scandal a murder on their hands would be, and for the most part, he's right.

It's not the Cattons who haunt him after Saltburn, though they may be pulling the strings. It's you. It's you sitting on Felix's bed in his dorm room reading every single detail of Michael Gavey's file with threats on your tongue. It's the casual way you talked about being able to access his academic files to change his grades if he wanted. It's you, tipsy at Saltburn, admitting that you got Eddie transferred without his consent to a university on the other side of the country after he cheated on Felix with Venetia.

There's no place for Oliver to return to at Oxford... He's not entirely surprised about that, however, there's also apparently no record of him ever attending. Any calls or enquiries he makes are shut down with the kind of immediacy that seemed reserved for shows about government conspiracies. When applications open for other universities, it seems websites shut down the minute he fills out his damn name. Nowhere in the world seems willing to consider him.

Having him audited seems like overkill. When it happens the next year, despite no employer willing to even consider him for an interview, the existential dread of his situation sets in.

Felix never had the stomach to finish the job; he'd let you haunt Oliver forever.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick imagine #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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augusgus · 1 year

Text

touch yourself (m.)

Being Sukuna's vessel isn't easy. Even less so if he's decided to take advantage of it - to his great pleasure and your humiliation.

pairing: ryomen sukuna x vessel fem!reader

tags: forced masturbation(?), a bit of degradation, corruption kink, sadistic sukuna (are we surprised), dacryphilia, oral sex, ruined orgasm, a tiny bit of spit play

You could hear his snicker even before you felt your cheek moving from Sukuna's sneer.

"What a lewd woman..." His voice was dripping with self-satisfaction, the kind that made you want to strangle him. Him and his damned influence over you.

Another wave of heat rushed through your body, this one stronger than the ones before, and a strangled whimper escaped your lips. Damn it, damn it, damn him. You were burning up and at this point it took everything in you to keep it together.

A knowing chuckle. "Why so shy?" There was a dark, cajoling tint to his whisper that sent involuntary shivers down your spine. "Or, perhaps, are you a filthy liar? Is that how it is? My, how scandalous!"

"T-that's rich coming from you, curse."

You were breathing heavily, fingers gripping your pillow with white knuckles. It hadn't been long since you had woken up from your body going into overdrive but it was already become too much to handle. Slowly, tantalisingly. It was mortifying to say the least, slowly losing control over yourself like that.

And Sukuna, being the source of your problem, was eating it right up.

You could feel the mouth on your cheek stretch impossibly to an even wider grin. "I would never deny myself pleasure, woman. I always take what I desire."

"Explains w-why you're such an ass," you quipped back.

You knew your response was weak. But you couldn't think clearly anymore - every drag of fabric against your skin, every shift of your fingers against the pillow was sending tingles up your neck and lighting up sparks in your brain.

His voice seemed closer to your ear now as he drawled, so sardonically, so humiliatingly smug, "you know, your perverted cunt is much more honest than you, woman. It's been dripping the whole time."

Wincing, you closed your eyes in shame as if that would make everything disappear. It wasn't for the first time that you wished to have never become a vessel for this demon, to have never given Sukuna the opportunity to touch the most vulnerable parts of your innermost and pick you apart by the seams with sadistic enjoyment. He was stripping you from your decency, dragging away layer by layer until he had you naked and cornered and cowering exactly the way he wanted you to.

You felt watched when your fingers slowly, almost involuntarily, travelled down your body - and in a sense you were indeed. Gleeful eyes, all over, drinking in this horrible humiliation that not even your lust-induced haze could block out... And that small part in yourself that actually took pleasure from this exploitation of your weakness - you started to hate that you have been made aware of its existence.

A gasp left your lips when your nails caught on one of your nipples, the slight touch alone enough to have a gush of wetness pooling between your legs. Sukuna's mouth laughed and the sheer proximity of the harsh sound made your head spin.

"Hah! Are you crying, woman?" He taunted. "D'you think that I'd take pity on you?"

"I'm n-not..." You hadn't noticed it before but tears had started to gather in your eyes. The realisation only made them well up more, salty liquid running down your cheek and landing on his tongue.

He laughed louder, a hint of madness vibrating in his sadistic excitement. "Yes, yes, this is it!! Lose yourself! Get even more desperate... You're a whore, behave like one!" You could feel his arousal brimming under your skin, dark and sticky, mixing with your own lust.

"You're such...an...asshole..." The insult lacked the usual spite. Forming words felt much too difficult all of a sudden.

If he had any regard for anyone other than himself, he would have stopped here, left you intact. He still would have had you hanging by the last threads of your pride, of your morals, but you'd be able to shrug it off as a moment of weakness. A lapse in judgment.

But Sukuna had never cared for the thing called restraint.

"Touch yourself, woman." He was playing with you, cruel in how his voice made it sound like an inevitable order. "Show me just how shameful you are, getting off on fingering your perverted cunt with a cursed spirit possessing your body. Show off how much you crave this!"

The moment the pads of your fingers pressed into the covered folds of your pussy, you couldn't breathe. The pleasure was all-consuming and the bit of relief that came with it made you momentarily forget about the guilt. "S'good..." the whine forced itself between your lips but you didn't have it in you anymore to care.

It felt so good... and yet the ache only seemed to grow stronger.

"Still not enough, huh." You could hear the grin, feel the movement right next to your ear, "what a slut."

And then white flashed before your eyes when something strong pushed against your entrance - Sukuna's mouth having opened on your palm instead, hot tongue licking a fat stripe up to your clit.

"Ah-hhhah...?!" there was no softness to his ministrations, no rhythm to make it easier for you to adjust. Whatever he decided to give to you, you had to take it. It was almost too much, balancing on the fine line between overwhelming and mind-numbing.

You had no control over the sounds you made anymore, over your muscles, and without thinking you pushed harder against your own hand, pressing the palm flat against your sticky folds to have better access to him. To have him closer, reach deeper.

Little sounds of "ah. Ah. Ah" filled the room and combined with the squelches from your dripping juices and his saliva. Sukuna laughed against your clothed core before biting along your outer lips, then slowly sliding his teeth over your clit - just gentle enough that the sensation had you squeezing your thighs even harder around your hand and trapping it effectively. With a scoff he sucked your clit into his mouth, rubbing circles into it with the tip of his tongue until you couldn't stop shaking.

Your orgasm wasn't far, the denial you've put yourself through having put your body in an even more vulnerable state. The coil was steadily tightening, growing in intensity until you could almost taste it on your tongue. A little more, just a little-

All contact vanished. Nothing, apart from your wet panties clinging to your folds. Gone was the pressure, lingering warmth all that was left. And still, in the last moment the slight shift of fabric made you tip over the edge.

You came but it didn't feel like an orgasm.

New tears welled up in your eyes as you realised, this was so unfair. So unfair. You could still feel the awaited pleasure brimming right underneath your skin, could feel it retracting without having given you any of the relief.

"Did ya really think you deserve to cum?" He was mocking you - his mouth back on your cheek letting a trail of spit run down his tongue and in between your own opened lips. It tasted like yourself.

Almost as if a dam had broken, you cried even more - desperation to cum, really cum, taking a hold of you. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou..." your pussy was pulsating around nothing, your body having been tricked into an empty orgasm, but the lust was still right there. Heat pooling in where you thought to be your womb. You needed it, needed him. So bad.

"Come on, you can do better than that," Sukuna drawled. "Beg. Say it, say my name."

"Scream who it is you're letting yourself be fucked by."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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peachypinkygloss · 1 year

Text

money is success — kth

Son of a powerful business owner, Taehyung rules the society, strictly surrounding himself with rich people. Money is his success, his greatest pride. Too immersed in his work, he doesn't realize the love story he's missing on until it's gone.

➝ pairing: rich kid!taehyung x rich kid/fem!reader (ft. seokjin)

➝ genre: childhood friends to lovers, friends with benefits, high society au, unrequited love, angst, smut

➝ word count: 10.4k

➝ warnings: reader's a brat, tae's kinda mean but he loves her (he won't admit it though), he's also a brotherly figure to her, daddy jin (he's like the devil in disguise but idc he's hot), age difference, insecurity, possessiveness, dom tae/sub reader, degradation and praising, sir kink, sensory deprivation, unprotected sex, oral (m), orgasm denial, tummy bulging, thigh riding, monster cock...?, facial.

a.n.: i talk too much

playing: Hanging High & National Anthem

You are not a woman that any guy could handle, that's obvious. Even Taehyung himself wonders how he still hasn't lost his sanity by being by your side so often. Sure, not all women are delicate and polite, but can you not be dramatic for at least one night? It's becoming a habit of yours at this point.

"Doll, can you please calm down?" Taehyung asks you in a stern voice, still octaves lower than yours, but serious enough for you to listen to him.

It's a weak attempt to get you go down the stairs because the only thing you decide to hear right now is the sound of your own voice. If Taehyung didn't know you attended theatre class in high school, he would maybe believe in your act at the moment.

"I'm not your doll, Kim Taehyung!" You shout, throwing your little tantrum in the middle of the stairs that lead to Taehyung's bedroom. Your words resonate through the immensity of his house, so big you actually imagine yourself on the scene, above everyone so they can all lay their eyes on you.

Maybe the alcohol in your blood also influences your actions, but your personality is responsible for the most part. You're also mad about something else, something really stupid in Taehyung's opinion, but that's why you're acting like you're the queen of the world. Up those stairs, nobody can touch you, no one is strong enough to get to you and stop you.

Not even Taehyung, who doesn't bother to walk the few stairs that separate you both from each other. In reality, it's all just an illusion because everyone knows that he's more powerful, more serious, richer, stronger... more everything than you.

"You might think I am! Bringing me to all those boring parties..." Your arms move everywhere as you talk, trying to emphasize your words, to bring more effect to your speech, but you just look silly up those stairs in your skimpy short dress. "Exhibiting me to your business partners, or whatever their names were, because of my money. You want to impress them... show that you can get a girl like me at your arm."

You point a finger to your chest, narrowing your eyes at Taehyung as your other hand stays on your hip. Oh, he knows you could hurt him really badly if you wanted to, but luckily for him, you would never. As bratty as you seem, you're his little puppy to whom he can do whatever he wants.

"Okay, I want you to come down stairs right now, am I being clear?" You pretend to be thinking about his question - even though it's an order, shifting your gaze to the side and biting down on your bottom lip.

Taehyung feels himself getting more and more annoyed as the time passes, wondering how he got himself stuck with a brat like you. The story is not complicated; two powerful families, one son and one daughter becoming friends through an economic alliance between their rich parents.

So he knows why he is in this situation. He's taking care of you because if not, who else would? Not you, that's for sure. You're too irresponsible for that, too immature to comprehend the real world.

You finally sigh, and Taehyung thinks you will comply, but nothing's that easy with you. "No, I don't think so," you say with an exaggerated pout on your lips and you flick your hair behind your shoulder.

"If you don't-"

You cut him off right away, not afraid of his threats at all. "You will count to three, Taehyungie? Is that what you'll do? Hmm?" You bat your eyelashes, smiling deviously when you notice that your remark makes him angrier. "Will you spank me, Sir? Will you make me scream your name so loud it's gonna be the only thing I can remember?" You mock him, using the same words he loves to tell you in bed.

You feel so powerful at the top of your tower, but Taehyung will make sure that you fall from it very hard so you understand who's superior here.

When he's about to retort, you run up the stairs, not looking once behind you. You don't want to listen to him and you won't as well. You like being chased, that's something Taehyung noticed about you since you two were teenagers.

Boys come to you - not the opposite. It caused you to suffer from the stupidness of some jocks, only seeing you as a body, as a girl who baldly needs male attention.

This habit of acting hard to get is a façade, though. Or maybe you just really like Taehyung, letting him use you however he wants because he's the only man who truly knows you. Inside and outside out, he knows every part of you, even the ones you try to hide.

He calls your name, expecting you to come back, but you don't. He sighs and decides to follow you, giving in to your whims. If someone has to put you back into your place, it has to be him. Hard to handle, but never for too long...

He approaches his bedroom, the door is already wide open. You're probably in there, doing whatever your bratty self wants to at the moment. Perhaps going through his closet, discarding his neatly folded clothes on the floor, opening his drawers, shuffling through his box of expensive jewelry. Making a mess of his room because you cannot stand how Taehyung's life is so organized while yours seems to be nothing but a black hole.

Engulfing everything, leaving nothing behind but empty places. Like your heart and your family.

When he enters, it is exactly how he imagined it. You are acting childish, and sometimes he feels like he's your older brother, having to scold his little sister. The only difference here is that he fucks you and he's not your brother by any means, just two years older than you.

His eyes lay on your figure coming out of the bathroom, perceiving your pair of heels on the tiled floor near the bath. He should be upset, but he's not, not really. That's how it is every time, and you never fail to get your frustration out on him and he surely doesn't miss to fuck the attitude out of you later.

Being friends with the daughter of a rich CEO has its advantages and disadvantages. One being the reputation that comes with it, and the other the outburst of rage that little body of a woman can create. You are important to him, too, but why should he care about his emotions when they usually bring bad things?

"Do you care about me?" Your question makes his eyebrows lift up by surprise. Are you really asking him that? A silly little question that doesn't even deserve to be asked as the answer is so obvious.

You look at him with desperation in your eyes, anger going down while sadness is taking over.

"Don't be so silly, doll."

"Answer me!" You yell and Taehyung's breath is cut short.

He remains calm while you're freaking out for some reason. You couldn't think he didn't care about you, could you? Solely because he brings you to his business parties. Maybe you're right, maybe it has an exhibit aspect to make you follow him around so you can tell everyone your name and that it's associated with his.

"I do," he steps closer and you have to raise up your head to look at him, "A lot."

"I don't believe you," you say rapidly after, just to contradict him.

He eyes you up and down, taking his time to respond, making you languish for him. You're frail compared to him, and you keep your head up no matter what, only lowering it when he asks you to submit.

Taehyung is the only person on this planet to know your weaknesses and despite everything, he never uses them against you. You're naturally submissive, that's all. If he's forcing something out of you it's certainly not the pathetic little moans you make when he pounds his dick into your hole.

He cups your face, holding it tightly, his fingers pressing on each one of your cheeks. "Then don't. Why would I give a shit?" He shifts his hand over your throat, enveloping it with his large palm. You say nothing and swallow your pride, him feeling the movement under his hand. "Undress and lay on the bed. Don't make me repeat myself or I will severely make you regret your little tantrum of earlier."

"Yes, Sir."

He keeps you close for an extra second, boring his eyes into yours, lacing his dominant aura over your poor little body. Eventually, he lets you go. He hears you breathing heavily, heart beating as fast as the flapping of a humming bird's wings.

He scans his room, seeing his clothes scattered all over his floor and his shoes off the shelves. What a fucking brat. Begging for his attention when his eyes never leave you, never. He gives you everything he has; his time, his care, his love, his cock. Still not enough.

He walks to his closet, letting you time to get naked and execute what he asked you to do. He bends down, picking up a pair of trousers that was previously folded perfectly before being thrown on the floor carelessly. He folds it again, placing it on the shelf. He looks around him, sighing in exasperation.

He then opens his ties' drawer that didn't get destroyed by you, fortunately. He takes two of them, laying them on his open palm. He comes back to you and he's satisfied to see you totally naked, sitting on the middle of the bed.

You crawl over the edge when he stands in front of it, waiting to tell you further instructions. "Give me your wrists." When you do, he passes the cloth under them and then over, finally tying them together. He pulls on it to verify the knot is strong enough and uses his second tie to band your eyes.

Though, you flinch away before he can. "No, please..." You mumble, looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Stop being such a brat, I'm tired of your nasty attitude," he grabs your bicep to pull you closer, tying his tie behind your head. You're deprived of your most essential sense and even though it's not the first time he has done this to you, you're still disoriented and afraid.

"Sir, please," you beg him, but it's useless at this point. He has you in his grip, he can do whatever he wants and you have no right to complain.

He takes a hold of your jaw again and his grip is tight, hurting you, leaving an indelible mark. But you don't mind, not at all.

"You're going to let me use your little body however I want without complaining," he's looking at you, but of course, you can't do the same. It makes him feel good. You have such a powerful name, yet you're a submissive little girl with him. Your status means nothing in a moment like this. "Do you understand, doll?"

He glances at your mouth and he can't help but inserts two fingers in, slowly pushing your lips apart from each other. He presses his digits down on your tongue, covering them in your spit. He loves your mouth, so annoying, but when he puts it to good use, it's perfect.

You nod, closing your lips around his slender fingers. "Good," he says lowly, just loud enough for you to hear. His digits don't stay long in your mouth, he pulls them out when he feels like you will finally listen to him. He taps your cheek, wetting it with your own saliva. You flinch slightly, your head tilting to the side.

He backs away and you whine, disliking the fact you can't feel him against you anymore. The only hint that lets you know Taehyung's there is the clanking of his belt buckle.

This sound always makes your breath go erratic and your heart drum in your chest. You know what that means and the thought of having his dick down your throat does something to you. A wave of heat goes between your legs, clenching your thighs to feel some type of friction since Taehyung is not providing you anything.

"Tonight was important for me," he begins, skillfully unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. Goosebumps travel all along your body, anticipation creeping into you. "You knew it pertinently..." He continues, summarizing your evening in a calm tone, tricking you into thinking he might be gentle with you.

He likes to do that; luring you in to better break you after. Love comes with pain and no relationship can be perfect. There's always a crack somewhere, huge or small, that can't be repaired unless you replace it.

But sometimes you don't want to replace it because you're simply emotionally attached to it. Then, the crack stays forever, but we learn to ignore it or to work with it. That's how Taehyung does it with you, he works with your flaws.

"You look pretty beside me, don't you think?" He asks and you nod, giving a positive answer to his question. He tugs on his boxers, freeing his thick cock out. You don't see it, but you sense it. "Right, you're so beautiful, why wouldn't I want to show you to my colleagues?"

He steps closer and grips his base, guiding it toward your face. He swipes the mushroom head across your lips and you taste his pre-cum on your tongue.

"I- I don't know, I'm sorry," you mumble against his dick, feeling small and vulnerable under him. If you thought being pathetic would endear him, you're wrong.

He chuckles, laughing at you, at your lack of responsiveness. Starting the night by roaring like a tigress and ending it by meowing like a kitten. Pathetic, yes, but not smart.

"Why do I even bother asking you," he wonders, talking to himself rather than to you. "You have no brain." He concludes the talk with that, pinching your nose between his thumb and index finger.

You're forced to open your mouth, chasing the air as it was stopped from entering your nostrils. A trick he learned in the early days of being sexually active with women, especially with the ones that refused to obey. He quickly operated it on you, finding its utility indispensable since you have the habit of not listening to him.

He pushes his cock into your mouth with his other hand, making you take a mouthful of it. Your mouth expends to accommodate the sheer size of his erection, weighing on your tongue, stuffing you full of himself.

You inevitably choke around it, he's too big for your poor little mouth. You might be sassy, but you never understood how to properly suck a cock. You're too dumb for that. And you're not a people pleaser, obviously, but it's not much of an issue for Taehyung. If you can't do it, he'll do it himself.

Nonetheless, you still try, opening your mouth to welcome him in. He lets go of your nose and you eagerly breathe through it. You flatten your tongue underneath him and drool doesn't miss to drip down your chin, making a mess.

He always stays in long enough for you to not be able to breathe correctly anymore, wanting to feel your throat contract around him. Despite your airflow being restricted, you don't pull him out or tap his thigh. You endure the intrusion of his girth in your mouth because that's what you're meant to do.

He grits his teeth, loving the warmth and the wetness of your mouth, enjoying every second until you finally gag repeatedly around him. He takes a handful of your hair, pulling on it to get his cock away from you. A strand of saliva connects your lips to his swollen tip and you cough, your throat burning painfully.

It drives him crazy having you so weak under his grip. Your tiny body kneeling in front of him, shaking and aching - you don't complain, as he ordered you not to. You love that as much as he does.

"So fragile, but you still want to be seen as strong," he observes, noting the clenching of your thighs and the wetness pooling from between your legs. "You're not meant to be in charge, puppy."

He directs his penis between your lips once again, sliding in just nicely. Tight, but that's how he likes it. His tip brushes the back of your throat and his dick twitches happily, buried deep into your mouth. He uses your face as a flesh light, bouncing your head on him as he pleases.

Taehyung groans, throwing his head back while still having his eyes down on you, "You're meant to be my cumslut, doll. That's all, only my little bitch who follows me around."

You hum around his cock, agreeing with him. What is the point of denying when clearly, you spend all of your time with Taehyung, never leaving his side as he's the only reason why you wake up every day.

His fingers pass through your hair, brushing it down and gripping them in his fist. He guides your mouth slowly and you move your head at his desired pace. His growing pubic hair sting your lips each time you reach the base of his dick, your nose pressing against his pelvis.

"Ah, shit-" he grunts and he can't stand the layers of clothes he has on his shoulders any longer. "Keep moving your head, baby..." He says breathlessly, his hand leaving your hair to remove his blazer off him. The clothing falls on the floor in a thud, joining your dress and panties.

It's more difficult than you thought sucking a cock as long as Taehyung's while being blindfolded. You balance yourself forward with your hands, holding on the edge of the bed, his tie still around your wrists.

You move your head up and down over his hard erection, eliciting deep moans from him. He rapidly unbuttons his white shirt, throwing it away as soon as possible.

You're sucking his dick so messily, eagerly engulfing the whole length into your mouth as if Taehyung was going to disappear. That's how he knows his cock is the only one you've ever tasted because you eat his like it's your first meal, staining the outline of your mouth with your drool.

He lets you work for some time, looking down at his shaft going in and out of your mouth, glistening in your spit. You feel the veins under your lips and the hardness of his cock on your tongue, so long it has you bobbing your head until the muscles of your neck hurt.

"You're fucking hungry, slow down a lil' bit. You're going to choke," he warns you mockingly, but he's genuinely concerned that you're going to suffocate around his cock at this rhythm.

You take a break as his tip remains in your mouth and you suckle gently on it. You lick it, taking a breath between each one. Taehyung loses interest even though you mean every lick you're giving to his pretty cock.

Taehyung exhales loudly, almost as dramatic as your tantrum of before. "Useless," he insults you, his voice sounding like a whisper. He places his hand over your throat and thrusts into your mouth as he brings your head closer to his crotch.

You whine, but the noise is muffled by his thick cock into your mouth. He tightens his grip around your neck, loving the gagging sounds your throat is producing.

But then, he pushes you away by your throat, slipping out of your warm and wet mouth. You're lost for a second, panting as you wait for something else to happen. Taehyung lifts his cock up against his toned stomach and forces your head down toward the base of his shaft.

"Suck my balls," he breathes out.

You part your lips and suck up one of his balls into your mouth gently, knowing that this area is fragile. It feels heavy on your tongue, but you love it. The spiky hair tingles your lips and skin, your ears graced by the sounds of Taehyung's grunts. You coat his balls in your spit and the tip of your nose brushes against his wet cock.

Your back is aching from behind arched like this and your limbs feel sore as well, the blood not circulating well. Fortunately for you, he decides he's finished with your mouth as he pulls your head away from his crotch.

He pushes you against the mattress and a little gasp leaves you, his action taking you by surprise. He undresses from his bottoms, now as equally naked as you. His knees dip into the bed as he straddles you, but you move back on your butt despite the fire burning at the pit of your stomach.

Your back meets Taehyung's pillows and you can't run away anymore, totally at his mercy. "Taehyung-" His name comes shakily out of your mouth, sensing his body hovering over yours. You're a little mouse caught under a big cat's paw.

"What did you call me?" His tone is menacing, daring you to make another mistake.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I'm- I'm just nervous..." You admit shyly, keeping your arms close to your chest.

He eyes your body up and down and he softens, seeing your legs shaking. He flattens his palm over your heart, feeling it thundering in your chest. His touch warms you and you remember why you love him so much even if he doesn't feel the same for you.

He cares, it would be simpler if he just didn't. This way, you wouldn't have a reason to love him.

"It's okay," he murmurs, tracing the outline of your breast and running his fingers down your cleavage to then softly caress your tummy. It goes up and down rapidly and he finds it amazing how all of your other senses are more sensitive, flinching every time he lays his hand on you.

He positions himself between your legs, bending down over you and placing his arms on each side of your shoulders. His breath fans across your face and you slightly frown your eyebrows, silently begging for him to pamper you in kisses.

He notices you searching for his lips, extending your neck toward him. He can't reject you, not when you look as pathetic as right now. So he dives in, settling his pillowy lips down on yours. You're relieved, kissing him like nothing else matters.

You whine during your exchange, stroking Taehyung's chest with your small, tied up hands. He lets you touch him, liking the way your nails scratch his burning skin, leaving white trails behind you. He takes a hold of your jaw, always needing to have control over you even when you're trapped under his larger body.

He tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss, dominating you with his tongue in your mouth. It's a short exchange, but it feels like the contrary; it's everything you needed, a pure and gentle sign of love.

Just when the butterflies in your stomach were happily flapping their wings, he breaks the kiss. He sits back on his heels and holds the back of your thighs up, pushing them toward your chest. Your cunt is completely exposed to him, glistening from your juices.

He licks his lips at the sight, your pussy just seems so delectable right now. He can't resist from having a taste and dips his fingers through your folds, collecting some of your arousal on his digits. He brings them to his mouth and he sucks them clean, furrowing his eyebrows when he tastes you on his tongue. Always so sweet.

"Sir, please, can you-" You stop yourself when his palm lands harshly on your pussy, rubbing so deliciously your puffy clit and splattering your juices everywhere on his bed sheets.

"You only speak when talked to, baby." Normally, he allows you to speak and scream whenever you want, but guess tonight isn't one of those usual nights. So you seal your mouth shut, not wanting to go against him again.

He reports his attention in between your legs, slapping his tip on your clit, making you squirm as whimpers leave your mouth. He circles your hole with his cock, playing with your pussy lips and swiping his mushroom head between them. You clench your walls and Taehyung notices it, watching your little pussy quivering helplessly.

He finally settles down, pushing in, stretching you out around his long and thick cock. You gasp, your mouth hanging open, and arch your back, this one lifting from the mattress.

"Mmh-!" You refrain yourself from saying anything because usually you would say his name, but you don't want to anger Taehyung even more. You would like to sink your nails in his back to inflict him the pain he's putting on you right now, but your wrists are still attached together.

"Fuck," he moans into the crook of your neck, his soft hair tickling your face. "Always so tight. No one's fucking this pussy beside me, am I right, doll?" He stays buried inside of you, balls touching your ass, so you can get used to his size.

His cock is long and curvy, pulsating in the comfort of your velvety walls. No lubricant needed, just your wetness. This is how Taehyung likes it, raw and sensual, wanting to feel your pussy clenching around his dick.

"No one..." You confirm, locking your legs behind his back. "Only you, Sir," you whisper the words he wanted to hear, amplifying the possessiveness he has toward you.

"Good girl," he groans, giving you a deep hip thrust, claiming your pussy - your whole body and mind - as his own. "Only me..." He repeats, so the both of you remember that you're his, no matter what.

With that, he begins pounding hard into you, but so slowly it makes you question the real meaning of his touches. Is it just for the sake of having sex? Or does he also feel the connection between you two?

But for Taehyung, fucking doesn't have to be fast - where's the true pleasure in that?

When he slides in, his cock grazes your bud of nerves and hits the magic spot inside of you that makes you see stars. He rolls his hips against you swiftly and you want to grip his butt, scratch his honey skin, impregnate your odour on him. As much as you love being his, you wish you could call him yours, too.

You raise your arms, incapable of keeping them for you anymore, and search for Taehyung's face, finding it pretty quickly. You run your fingers on him, deciphering his nose and lips under your digits. He grunts, but doesn't stop you, rocking his hips against yours.

A little gasp escapes from your lips as Taehyung bites your finger that was tracing the shape of his bottom lip, trapping the digit between his teeth. He doesn't force, only holds it, and your stomach flutters.

You pull on your finger and he loosens his jaw, letting you go. You resume your previous actions, going up to his hair and gripping it, pulling on strands of hair. He grasps your arm and passes your tied up hands over his head, settling down around his neck. You moan contently, loving having Taehyung's chest flush against yours, the position squishing your breasts between your two bodies.

He sucks on a patch of skin on your neck, licking and biting it. His tip can't stop leaking pre-cum, so happy to be in your tight, wet cunt, impatiently waiting to blow his load into your sloppy pussy. Wet sounds fill the room, occasionally accompanied by the noise of his balls slapping against your ass.

You're whining while Taehyung is moaning, hissing when he thrusts in, feeling your walls closing around him. You pull on the hair at the nap of his neck, scratching his scalp by the same occasion. It feels animalistic, all the grunts and pants, his cock fucking your little hole restlessly to satisfy both of your sexual needs.

"Mmh, fuck. You're so wet, baby," he mumbles against your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin, sending shivers all over your body. "Soaking wet..." He rasps out, holding your hips tightly, long fingers digging in your flesh.

One of his hands moves up to your face while the other stays on your hip and he pulls up your blindfold, allowing you to set your gaze on him, finally able to see him. You blink up at him in awe, your heartbeat accelerating when Taehyung's face is centimetres away from yours.

"Never disobey me again, please, fuck-" He places his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes before he closes them, his mouth hanging open. He's in ecstasy, bucking his hips into yours, sliding balls deep into your little quivering hole.

Your thighs shake beside his torso, both from staying up for a long time and the orgasm threatening to arrive. You don't respond and he hopes it's only because the pleasure is too overwhelming and not because that's something you can't promise him.

Instead, you push his head toward you and catch his lips, moaning into the kiss. He devours your mouth, not letting you a second to breathe, giving you open-mouthed kisses everywhere. His big hand travels along your body, sliding down between your tits and caressing your belly, where he's pleasantly surprised to feel the tip of his cock bulging in.

He pushes down on your tummy and you moan out into his mouth, nails sinking into his neck, leaving small crescent forms. He breaks the kiss, but keeps his sweaty forehead against yours, both panting onto each other's faces.

"God, do you feel that, puppy?" He asks in a husky voice, but sounding almost whiny, as if this situation is slowly destroying his sanity - in a good way.

You lazily look down and Taehyung shifts his hand to the side, letting you see what he is talking about. He pushes in and you get the glimpse of his cock moving in your belly. He watches it too, groaning like an animal at the sight.

"So big..." You add on, dizzy and a little dumb from Taehyung's dick fucking your leaking pussy.

He only hums, replacing his hand over the bulge in your tummy. He could get off just at that thought, being so deep into you he almost reaches your belly button.

After all this time, you never left his side. He's the one who possesses your first kiss, your virginity, your heart and your literal soul. If you leave, then you say goodbye to all of those. So when it hurts the most, you push him to his limits because that's the only way you can have his attention on you, feel like everything he took from you wasn't a loss.

"Taehyung, Taehyung..." You exclaim under your breath and he snaps his eyes up at you, ready to smack your ass, but the next words you say dissuade him from doing it. "Please, I love you," you whine out, tears forming at the corners of your eyes and pussy contracting around his thick cock. "Love you too much..."

He knows it, and yet, you're stupid enough to confess it over and over again. Even though he'll always keep his feelings locked in cage, destroying the key after, yours encourage him to fuck you harder.

He picks up your hips, settling you at the perfect level for him to hit your sweet spot repeatedly, never missing a beat. "Oh, I'm sure you do, baby," Taehyung clashes his hips against yours, making you slide up on the bed from the intensity of his thrusts. He keeps you close, handling your hips down on his hard cock.

"Oh! Tae-" Your voice breaks, ending into a sinful moan, eyes rolling back into your skull.

Because of his tie sealing your wrists together, Taehyung can't sit up, but he hovers over you slightly, enough for him to pound into your messy cunt mercilessly. It has you melting into his hands, his fingerprints inked into your skin, your neck butchered by his previous love bites.

"Shit, I'm close," he exhales heavily, hissing and gritting his teeth as if he's full of anger, but the knot at the pit of his stomach is only tightening, making him clench his jaw. His abs flex, thighs tensing up, hands shaking.

Your release is approaching too, but something tells you Taehyung's intentions are not in your favour.

He thrusts in and out fast until he comes to a halt, burying himself in you, pelvis flushed against your clit. "Ah, fuck, fuck..." He groans and with a twitch of his long cock, he shoots his hot cum into your little pussy. Loads of it come out of his wet tip, painting your walls white, marking his territory.

He pants, looking into your eyes, seeing the worry passing through them. He doesn't react when you call his name, pulling on strands of hair, squirming around. He gives a weak thrust, milking himself dry.

"Taehyung, keep going!" You pout, thumping your feet against the mattress. "Please-" He shuts you up by a kiss, opening and closing his mouth over yours, distracting you while he slips his softening penis out of your cunt.

He backs away and removes your arms from around his neck, quickly untying the knot. He rolls to the side, discarding his tie somewhere on the floor of his bedroom. He doesn't think too much about it before passing an arm around your waist, bringing you against his chest.

You accept his embrace, laying your face against his burning skin. The lights are turned off and this is what concludes your night with Taehyung. You close your eyelids and your tears roll down your cheeks. You cry silently after checking that he's deep into sleep.

Early in the morning, you escape Taehyung's bed. You put your clothes back on, leaving the room on your tiptoes, but of course, he was awake all this time.

"Don't forget that we're attending the Grand opening of Min's society tomorrow night," he says, his eyes still closed. "Put something green on."

You want to say 'fuck off', but you only huff, closing the door in a thud behind you.

You're wearing a short green dress with thin straps, four inches black stilettos and the smallest purse you've ever carried. You followed Taehyung's orders to the letter, despite your will not to. Green suits you the best and you wouldn't have matched his pretty custom made suit.

Entering the elevator, you press the button that will take you to the eleventh floor. What is there on the eleventh floor? You don't know and that's not something you care about at the moment.

Just when the doors are about to close, a hand sneaks in, making the doors open again. You frown, wondering who would want to escape the Grand opening at the same time as you.

The figure of a beautiful tall man is revealed to you, a fluffy head of black hair parted in the middle. Thick and sharp eyebrows, heart-shaped lips, broad shoulders... This man has everything for him. Who is he?

He smiles when he sees you, not a polite one, but a smile that lets you know he's already aware of who you are. It disconcerts you that this stranger may know you when you have no clue of what his name can be. A friend of the host? Taehyung's colleague? Or just another rich man who got his fortune from his father?

Though he seems old, much more mature and experienced than you, there is something jovial about his gaze. Something playful, something that warns you he won't bore you out.

As he joins you into the elevator, he checks the buttons and notices the blue light around the eleventh. He leaves it like that, leaning his back against the wall, shoving his large hands into his pockets.

He turns his head in your direction, smirking when you don't dare looking his way. The doors finally close, trapping you alone with this handsome stranger. "You're Kim Taehyung's girlfriend, aren't you?" His voice is not as deep as you would have thought, but it's still manly and really soft.

So he knows you. You wonder what he heard about you, good or bad things?

"I wouldn't say that I am." Because if you were, you would be at his arm right now, at the head of your father's company. You would be a hard and serious worker, leading your business to success and blah-blah-blah.

You would be exactly like him, but you're not.

"Hmm, I see. Hard to handle," he states, not having to talk to you more to understand what kind of attitude you have.

"Excuse me, do I know you, old man?" You turn around, which makes the man smirk, exactly what he wanted you to do. You bark, but don't bite. Everything's always an act.

He tsks, stepping closer to you. You have your arms crossed over your chest, trying to look intimidating, but you just remind him of a child puffing out her chest to appear stronger. "Old man? Oh, sweetheart, how old do you think I am?"

You narrow your eyes at him, pretending to scan his face, as if you really think he's that old. Hardly thirty-five, that's for sure. "I don't know, probably forty," you bluff, making him laugh heartedly. "Only creeps follow women into an elevator."

He shakes his head, chuckling as he licks his lips, bending down to have his eyes on the same level as yours. "I'm twice your age, little girl. You better show me some respect or I'll make you regret acting like a fucking bitch with me," he grasps your bicep and before he can do anything else, a ting resonates in the elevator.

He makes your heart accelerate and your breath quicken, swallowing as he holds eye contact with you. It's like with Taehyung, but something is consequently different with this man. He doesn't have empathy for you, he doesn't know your barriers and he certainly doesn't care about you.

This feeling is new and thrilling. You like it, you're curious to see where you can go, how further he'll bring you into Hell.

The only place Taehyung has ever made you discover is Heaven, the sadness and loneliness of it. A magnificent white paradise, but so silent and empty it makes you hate it more and more each time.

As if he realized what he was doing, he straightens his back and moves away from you. He eyes the panel, pressing the first button, the one leading to the indoor parking. The eleventh floor is long forgotten, somewhere you'll never step into anymore.

"What's your name?" You ask normally, like he didn't just threaten you. But you know how men like him function. Their words mean nothing, only their actions will let you know what they expect from you.

"Seokjin," he responds mindlessly as he searches for something in his pocket. "But for you, it's Mr. Kim," he pulls out his car keys, raising up his gaze to check on which level you're on; the fifth.

You bite down on your lip at that, your pussy already mewling. You think you heard his name before, one of Mr. Min's most faithful friends. You wonder why he's leaving the opening then, but it doesn't matter anymore as the elevator's doors open, the familiar ting signalling you you're on the parking lot floor.

"Does Mr. Kim want me to keep him company?" You flirt, completely oblivious to the future consequences your nasty tongue will bring you.

You follow Seokjin behind, him looking over his shoulder to send you a smirk. You pass in front of Taehyung's car and you feel a little bit guilty, but you rapidly erase this feeling. You don't own him shit.

You watch his tall figure walking and you can't help but find him so powerful. His age is still a mystery to you, but you have a clue that he's at least ten years older than you. It excites you so much, you've never been with a man like Seokjin before. Well, you've never been with that many men in your life, but still.

"Shouldn't you be with your boyfriend, little girl?" He presses a button on his car key, unlocking his car's doors from afar. The lights of a white Mercedes turn on. It looks brand new as you can see Seokjin's reflection on the body.

"Taehyung's not my boyfriend," you grumble, rolling your eyes. "And I don't have to be with him twenty-four seven. I'm a big girl," you stop walking when he does too, turning around to face you. "Where are you going?"

He tilts his head to the side, finding you particularly curious. Even after calling you a bitch, you still crave his attention. "Home," he fidgets with his keys, his long fingers passing through the metal loops, making them turn around on his finger.

"Kids and wife waiting for you?" You toddle toward him, slowly closing the distance between you two.

He scoffs before answering. "I don't have a wife, and surely not kids," he eyes you closely, watching the corners of your mouth lift into a smug smile.

"My presence won't be such a bother then, right?"

Arms around Seokjin's neck, you hump his thigh like a deprived virgin, whining and moaning so loudly you're sure the neighbours can hear you. Oh, why does doing something wrong feels so good?

He gropes your breasts, gritting his teeth at the filthy view you're offering him. The material of his trousers rubs deliciously against your pussy and as he tenses up the muscles of his thigh, that's when you think you see stars.

"Oh! Mr. Kim..." You can't believe you're still not calling this man by his beautiful name, but you get it. Well, you think you get it because how unfair is it to refuse you from calling him by his own name during sex?

No names, no attachments, no feelings.

A stupid girl like you dry humping a man in his thirties while Taehyung must be searching for you right now, how unconscious have you become? Love makes you do crazy things.

He slaps your butt, leaving his handprint behind, and you moan at the stinging pain. You're totally naked and Seokjin only has his cock out, stroking it as he watches you rut your hips on his thigh.

He's long, really fucking long, but not as thick as Taehyung. You know this dick has seen so many pussies before you and will see more after. You normally don't do things like that, fucking men you didn't know about hours ago, but it's clearly in your attitude to do things out of impulsivity.

"Mmh, look at this," his free hand lays on your waist, no need to guide you as you move your hips up and down on his thigh greedily. "Fucking my thigh like you never got dicked before..." He observes and you can't deny the fact that your pussy's on fire. You're so horny it doesn't even make sense.

Surely it's because Taehyung left you hanging high as a punishment, your poor clit throbbing and begging for a little bit of attention. You didn't even masturbate, you don't really know why, maybe because it wouldn't have been the same.

So all your frustration has builded up in your tummy, only waiting for a gentleman to give you a hand. It should've been Taehyung, it should have... You'd have probably got on your knees and begged him to just put that dick inside your cunt. Yeah, you'd have done that or something similar at least.

But you fell upon a beautiful man and it doesn't matter whether or not your encounter was planned. Seokjin was there, Taehyung was not.

"Rub that wet pussy on me, little girl, go on," Seokjin encourages you and your eyes roll back in your skull, breathy moans escaping your mouth. He gently and slowly runs his hand on his length, the loose skin folding on itself.

"Y-Yes... Feels so good," you whine out, pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. He groans at the pain, gritting his teeth like an animal. "Mr. Kim, I'm really... really close," you announce to the man, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.

His slender fingers dig into the flesh of your waist, nails sinking in as well. He grips his cock tightly at the base, stopping his strokes as he lays his hooded eyes on your fucked up face. "Little slut, you have no shame, do you?" He encircles your waist with his strong arm, pulling your naked chest flushed against his.

As you hump him, your nipples brush against the material of his white shirt, making your stomach clench. He kneads your ass with his big palm, teasing your little asshole with his middle finger. You shiver from his actions, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

His cock twitches and he can't wait to shove it down your throat. You chase your orgasm, feeling the pleasure bubbling in your belly. You rut your hips frantically against his thigh, his pants now fully soaked from your juices. You hope he doesn't mind having his expensive clothes stained.

"Cumming for another man... I pray for you he doesn't find out," he whispers in your ear, laughing cruelly after. "Come on, princess, show me how much of a big girl you are..." Seokjin has no remorse, that's for sure. Only the most evil people enjoy seeing others suffer.

At the moment, you have no remorse at all as well. You want your release and that's it.

"Mmh-!" Spasms take over you, thighs and arms shaking, humping Seokjin like there's no tomorrow. "Oh, my God!" You mumble in the crook of his neck, hips stuttering as your orgasm explodes in you.

You feel your heartbeat in your bud of nerves, telling you just how good of an orgasm it was.

"You ruined my pants... You're lucky I like you," he lets go of his cock to grip the back of your neck, pulling you upwards. "Because normally, I wouldn't let that slide." His expression is unreadable, or he just doesn't have any emotion. You think the latter option is more accurate.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kim," you apologize and pout, crunching his shirt between your fists on his shoulders.

He presses his fingers on each side of your neck, applying more pressure as he observes your face contorts in pain. It's as if he analyses your reactions, noting how your eyebrows furrow when his thumb digs forcefully on your jugular.

It feels like a predator playing with his prey, watching it suffer in pain before eating it. He said he would let it slide, but apparently Seokjin isn't good at sticking to his words.

"Mr. Kim-" You call him, small pearls falling from your eyes. His gaze follows the tear rolling down your cheek, hanging down on your jaw. The pressure slowly disappears as he looks back up at you, his grip leaving your neck.

"On your knees, princess. I'm not done with you," he orders and you nod repeatedly, getting down from his lap. "I hope you know how to suck a cock because if you don't, I'll be obligated to fuck your mouth," he says as he settles his elbow against the armrest, rubbing his chin between his index and thumb. "And I'm not known to be particularly gentle..."

You position yourself between his legs, glancing up at him with uncertain eyes. It's not that you don't know, it's just that Taehyung never taught you and it's not like you could've practiced with other boys. He always takes control of your mouth and rarely lets you do it on your own.

So you doubt your skills will impress Seokjin, but you wish it'll be enough for him to not face fuck you, especially if he's particularly rough.

You've barely laid your eyes on his enormous cock that he already takes a handful of your hair in his fist. "Don't make me wait, little girl," he pushes you closer until your head is shoved onto his crotch. You feel his hard erection straining across your face, long and pulsating angrily.

You whimper a little, trying to back away, but he holds your face in place. "Mr. Kim, I can't-" Your lips graze his dick as you speak and this position is really not comfy for you.

"Are you telling me a slutty bitch like you can't take a dick in her mouth?" He asks severely, eyes filled with burning anger. Or is it desire? You shake your head the best you can from side to side, swallowing as you feel small and totally defenceless under him. "Then fucking do it."

He doesn't need to tell you twice, surely not while looking at you so menacingly.

You open your mouth and close it, giving kisses to his beautiful length. You do so until you're met with his tip, pre-cum spilling on your lips. His hand grips at your scalp, tightening his fist around your hair, making you wince in pain.

You swirl your tongue around his mushroom head, passing your pink muscle over the slit, smearing the pre-cum and your drool over his hard cock. You play with the tip because you don't want to engulf the whole thing in your mouth, you're not even sure you can.

You're used to Taehyung's cock, but Seokjin's is too long, it almost surpasses the height of your head. Nonetheless, you suckle the head, trying to keep the man entertained. You move your head accordingly to your licks, licking the underside of his shaft and then going up to put the tip back in your mouth.

"Scared to take the whole thing in your mouth, little girl?" He questions you, his voice surprisingly soft. "I understand, it's not everyday that you see someone like me..." He smirks and you look up, meeting his devious gaze.

Your forearms are placed beside his thighs, which part wider as he forces your head down on him when you didn't expect him to. You whine around him, protesting, but you know it's useless. He holds your head firmly over his erect penis and you're too weak to escape his grip.

"Shh, pretty girl. Take my cock," he says calmly and it would be almost soothing if you weren't focusing on breathing through your nose as he sinks himself in the warmth of your mouth. "I told you I would fuck it if you weren't capable of sucking me off."

Your jaw stretches open, letting Seokjin penetrate your mouth so slowly your eyes start to water again. He pushes you down and you don't even have him whole in your mouth that the tip of his cock teases the back of your throat. You gag around him and you're scared you'll throw up.

"Guess I'll have to work with that..." He sighs in exasperation, but he understands he can't go further if he doesn't want you to die of asphyxia around his dick.

He then yanks your head up by your hair and you gasp for air, tears running down your cheeks. You try to get a proper breathing, but Seokjin pulls you down before you can. He slides between your lips, his cock totally smooth from your saliva. You form fists beside his thighs, scrunching your eyes shut and enduring the painful intrusion of his penis inside your mouth.

He plants his feet on the wooden floor and raises his hips, thrusting in and out of you. Slurping sounds are heard as well as Seokjin's grunts and hisses. He uses you as he desires, fucking your face and ignoring your cries while he grits his teeth from the overwhelming pleasure building in his stomach.

"Relax your jaw, fuck, that's why it's painful..." He instructs you and you tense down the muscles of your jaw, allowing a smoother entering of your mouth for his long cock.

Your lips never touch his pubic hair and your chin occasionally brushes his balls as they move up from Seokjin's thrusts. You really want it to be less painful, but you come to realize that maybe your mouth is just not made for sucking cocks.

But the men you have had sex with always manage to take you the way they want it anyway no matter how difficult it is for you to accommodate to their sizes.

You hollow your cheeks, one of the few things Taehyung taught, and you hope it makes Seokjin feel good. The little moan he produces tells you that he does, so you keep on hollowing your cheeks.

He fucks your throat until he feels his balls tightening and his cock twitching inside your mouth. "Shit, filthy girl... You're not as bad as I thought," he rasps out, passing his long fingers through your tangled hair.

The more he pushes into you, the closer your nose is to his pelvis. You swallow him despite the burning you feel in your throat, you're sure it'll be sore by tomorrow.

"A-ah, fuck," he moans and that's when he pulls out of your mouth, standing up on his feet.

Your heart accelerates as he towers over you with his full height, cock in hand ready to shoot his cum everywhere on your body. He's still fully dressed, totally intimidating you. You look so helpless down on your knees before a man so much older and so dominating.

It scares you and you really want to find Taehyung's warmth and care at the moment. It was fun at the beginning because you were angry and upset, but now, you see that Seokjin is just a man using you for your body and naivety.

His hooded eyes don't leave your little figure sitting on the floor as he runs his hand up and down his huge dick. Seokjin wants to ruin you, break you, only to toss you after on the street when he'll be done with you. He's cruel and you only realize it now because a man as powerful as him knows how to hide his double personality.

He brings your head over to him, his cock hovering over your face. He fucks his fist, going impressionably fast. He directs his erection toward your face, aligning it perfectly so he can cum where he wants it.

"Open," he grumbles the word out and you pull out your tongue, flattening it against your chin. He groans and his hips stutter as he feels the knot in his stomach tightening.

And then a hot liquid lands on your face and you blink several times while he shoots his cum on you, marking you in his seeds. He milks himself dry, painting your cheeks and tongue white of his release.

When he lets go of your head, Seokjin looks at you and he almost chuckles at how you seem completely pathetic. Covered in his cum, core leaking on your thighs and hair in a nest. Your makeup is not any better, all smudged up on your face.

You look like a whore. An expensive one, he'll be generous, but Seokjin doesn't pay for sex, he never does. He doesn't have to because lost and frustrated little girls like you throw themselves at his feet. He doesn't need to say anything.

After that, you don't stay with him, you don't sleep in the same bed as him, you don't even get a glass of water for your poor throat. You take your things and you get out.

At least he called a cab for you.

"His little girlfriend is kinda dumb, but you can do whatever you want with that mouth, Goddamn."

That phrase wouldn't leave Taehyung's mind since this morning when he heard Seokjin saying it. And it's infuriating him how he imagines the scene, how he pictures it so easily...

"Get in the fucking car," his eyes are literal daggers, fire glinting in them, making anyone who looks at him shiver in fear.

But not you.

"No! Tell me where we are going!" You yell, thumping your feet like a child.

His nostrils flare as he breathes furiously, fists clenching by his sides. He really wants to hold it in, but it's so difficult, so fucking difficult when you refuse to obey.

"Get. In."

"No, I'm not-" You squeak when your feet leave the ground as Taehyung throws you over his shoulder, securing your body with an arm over the back of your thighs.

He yanks the passenger's door open and you tightly holds the fabric of his vest between your fingers, legs dangling in the air. He bends down and lays you on the leather seat, shutting the door just when you're about to open your mouth again.

Taehyung gets around his car, entering the driver's side. He joins you in and he doesn't grant you one glance. He's mad, really mad.

"Put your seatbelt on," he orders as he adjusts the rear mirror. "Now." He says even more severely, sending you the first glimpse of the night, but it's cold and full of anger.

You quickly put on your seatbelt while he does the same, turning the key and making the car's engine roars. It's not loud enough to cover the beating of your heart, feeling it thundering in your rid cage, threatening to explode.

Taehyung pulls out of the parking lot, reaching the road in a few steering wheel strokes. He uses one hand to turn the wheel, doing it swiftly and precisely. He has a clear idea of where to go, and when he doesn't stop for the red light you understand you're in deep shit.

"Taehyung! Are you unconscious!?" You yell, your eyes widening and eyebrows furrowing when you notice the kilometres per hour increasing as his foot weighs on the speed pedal.

You look back and forth between him and the road in front of you. He dodges the cars, passing through gaps, not even bothering to turn on the flashers.

"Since when are you giving older men head?" He growls through his teeth, eyes focused on the road.

He turns the wheel hastily as he was getting too close to a car and your two bodies follow the movement of the car, balancing to the side before going back in place when Taehyung gets back in line.

"W-What?" You breathe out, too weak to talk louder. Luckily, he hears you despite the loud roaring of the engine.

"Kim Seokjin, out of all people," he sends his venom at you, fire dancing in his eyes. "You picked this piece of shit," he isn't screaming, but it feels like it with the way his tone sounds so furious and uncontrollable.

You think it was just a matter of fact until he would find out, but you thought that maybe he would dismiss it like he always does with you.

"You always open your mouth, never close it," he states, taking a road that leads you both out of the city. "Oh, no, that's right... The only time I don't hear you is when you have your fucking mouth around a literal stranger's dick!" He slams his palm against the steering wheel, the ambiance in the car becoming heavier.

He has to turn on his headlights as you two enter a road where there is no street lamp. You glimpse at the dashboard, your breath now erratic. 110km/h, 120km/h, 150km/h...

"The second I don't give you attention you go turn around older men like a fucking dog in heat," his words are sharp, cutting through your heart. "Is that why you offer your body to other men? Is that fucking why!?" He barks and you close your eyes, pearls falling on your face.

But your heart is stronger than that.

"No!" You scream, the sound making Taehyung tightens his grip around the wheel, knuckles turning white. "I'm not a fucking dog, I'm not a whore or a pathetic dumb bitch!" You affirm loudly, turning your head around to look at him.

You curse yourself for finding him beautiful, loving the crease between his eyebrows, the way his jaw clenches, wishing he could only be yours and no one else.

Fuck his money, fuck his dad, fuck his business partners, fuck his company worth million of dollars.

"Then what are you, huh? Tell me, smarthead," he laughs, but not because it's funny, because he's nervous he's not right this time.

He's asking it, playing stupid as if he doesn't already know the truth, as if you didn't tell him before.

"I'm in love with you, Taehyung! That's what I am, okay! I'm in love... with you," you desperately say the last two words and just like that, his muscles tense down. Just like that he calms down, realizes his mistake. "And I want you to love me, too."

He slows down, raises his foot from the gas pedal, as a road sign appears afar in the dark; max 70km/h. You've come back to the city and Taehyung's little race comes to an end.

The ride back to the parking lot is silent, no one daring to say a word. When Taehyung parks the car, you unbuckle your seatbelt and quickly reach for the door's handle. You get out and he follows you, walking around to finally face you.

You're crying and he's not. Your heart compresses in your chest and you place a hand over it, feeling it screaming and beating incessantly. Him, he only feels guilty.

He's started a fire in you only to watch your heart burn in front of him. He always knew you like him, it was pretty obvious even since you two were children. His attention slowly drifted off of you as he grew older, taking an interest in working with his dad, enjoying earning money and the esteem of many people.

You stayed by his side anyway, even when money was more important than you.

"Doll, listen, I'm-" He stops when you raise an arm in front of him.

You pass by him, walking away as you leave him wondering why did he act like such an asshole for years.

#bts fic #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #taehyung drabble #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fanfic #taehyung imagines #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut

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starswguru · 28 days

Text

❝ message in a bottle ; 마크이

𖥻 pairing: college!mark lee x female reader

𖥻 contains: college!au, fluff, slight angst, second chance romance

𖥻 warnings: swearing, marijuana & alcohol consumption / english is not my first language and this is my first work ever on tumblr so i am sorry if there are any grammar mistakes or misspellings

word count — 4.06k

synopsis — you and mark were in a situationship for a few months before things ended poorly when you got too scared of your feelings and he had to leave the country for an exchange program in london. now, six months later, you were at a party with your friends and discovered mark was back in town.

🎀

AND just like that, your whole world stopped spinning for a long and torturous minute. in the blink of an eye, you went from being over-the-moon excited — and slightly intoxicated — with the idea of partying with your friends during the first summer night before heading to your hometown in the next couple of days to being paralyzed, feeling all your blood get drained far away from where it should be in your body. in the blink of an eye, you went from being a happy girl with the arrival of the last member of your friend group to someone terrified with the sight of a ghost from the past. a quick glance, unintended by all means, in mark’s direction was all it took for the memories from that previous year to come flooding back to hit you like a lost train.

“hey, princess,” he said. his cheeks burning in a shade of shameful red, but something stronger than him was preventing his stare from going anywhere else other than your eyes. there was a blunt hanging between his teeth. “how you doing?”

“that’s it, guys; i’m done with this. i’m just gonna change my major or something like that! everything’s going terribly wrong, and i can’t keep torturing myself by studying this shit.”

you dropped your head and rested your forehead on your arm that lay on top of the desk in front of you right as the confession slipped from your lips like a dangerous poison that you should not have taken. it was the first time you’d ever said it out loud to someone else to hear — other than the mischievous voice inside your head — how you truly felt about the english major you were pursuing. the fear of judgment and of being too hasty about this decision was corroding every last bit of your emotional health, and because of it, you could sense that a storm was coming. what if you did change majors and ended up not adapting? how would you find a job, or better yet: how would you support living all by yourself if you couldn’t even pick an undergraduate academic path? time was running out, and the unbearable clock inside your mind wouldn’t give you a break. the tick-tacking of the goddamn thing was going to drive you to insanity at any point soon.

“hey, chill for once, okay? it’s normal to feel like that and to want something new. hell, i know i had to change my major twice before finding out what i actually wanted to do. jae did the same thing. you’re not alone.” jeno offered you a small yet reassuring smile or someone who didn’t quite know what to say but still wanted to see his friend more relaxed.

“exactly! take a deep breath and think things through with an easy heart. if you need help, we’re here to help you." swallowing the last bite of the sandwich he had bought earlier, renjun tapped the notebook in front of him. “how’s that linguistics project going?”

as you raised your head, you shook your head in a negative sign. “i mean, it’s good. too good, actually… and that’s sort of the problem. like, the dude i’m working with is super sweet and really fucking good at this class and so he’s kind of doing the whole thing by himself and dragging me along with it ever since we started. i feel terrible, even if he says it’s all good and stuff, but it is what it is, i guess.”

before either of the guys could express any opinion about what was just said, a guy with freshly cut black hair — it was even possible to see the drawing of a spiderweb on the left side of his undercut —, earphones in and a large yankees shirt approached the desk, more specifically you, and offered a genuine smile that wasn’t common to see between two colleagues who were only working on a school project together at you. the unknown man squatted so he could be at your height and unlocked his ipad’s screen to the word document the two of you were using to write notes together, or at least that was the initial idea because the reality was that mark was doing all of it alone, proudly.

“oh, hi, y/n, you good? just wanted to ask you a quick question… have you taken a look at this topic right here? i know we’re only supposed to work on it in two weeks but i was wondering if maybe you’ve come up with the same conclusion as me.”

feeling a thousand times more embarrassed than if a professor asked you to present a thirty-minute seminar alone in front of the whole class, you felt the tip of your fingers getting cold and a thin droplet of sweat rolling down your temple. “uhm, hey, mark. yeah, about that… look, i didn’t really have a chance to look at that yet, i’m sorry. i can barely manage this week’s assignments, let alone two weeks from now. i- i’ll text you when i read it, okay?”

you didn’t know it at the time — or if you did, you had an enviable ability of discretion — but every single time mark heard his name escape from your heavenly drawn lips, his heart would skip a beat or two and he felt like he was about to combust at any second. it was the first time in his whole life that he had ever felt that way about someone and dealing with feelings of that magnitude was both weird and extraordinary, which meant that the ravenette wasn’t completely aware of how to process them. mark’s solution for his overwhelming thoughts whenever you were around was to take charge of everything he could in that project, to make you feel relaxed about that one particular class. the canadian was terrible at linguistics, for his skills were much more reliable during literature classes: he could interpret and internalize poetry from the eighteenth century like it was nothing, and plays written in latin during the roman empire were of natural understanding for him; and yet, ever since the first day of that semester in which it was requested that both of you joined efforts to build the complicated assignment, it was impossible for mark to not pull all-nighters reading texts and more texts, watching one video class after another that broke down the subject of that class just so he could give his absolute best when the time came to work alongside you and you didn’t find him an idiot, as most people in that university usually did after meeting him for the first time.

mark just wanted to impress you and the last thing he could be worried about was doing all that alone, as long as it meant that he could still have the minimum interaction with you.

“yeah, sure, that’s cool. if you need anything let me know, alright?”

you were still in a state of complete shock. no words would come out of your mouth, making it impossible to answer properly the question directed at you by the boy that a year before was the reason for many sleepless nights and therapy sessions, through no fault of his, which was even worse, because mark was perfect and you hated yourself for how everything ended.

a cold breeze, too cold for a summer night, hit the both of you with enough strength to make you shiver and it was only then that you realized that none of your friends were around anymore. you were alone again with mark for what had felt like a lifetime since he left the country for an exchange program in london and with enough unspoken words to make the whole situation a million times more uncomfortable than it needed to be. what were you supposed to say right now? “oh, hi, mark, long time no see! listen, i’m really sorry for being horrible to you last year, i’ve spent the last six months torturing myself because i only woke up to the fact that i had let the perfect guy for me get away too late to try and fix everything”? you ran your fingers through your hair, knowing that there were no words of your knowledge that could make it easier, that could put together again the pieces of what had once been something magical that the two of them were building.

you couldn’t care less about all those times your therapist tried to be kinder to your heart than you had ever been, or how your friends always tried to distract your mind from the constant haunt of self-collection and, to be honest, didn’t really mind that yes, after all the effort and studying, you had managed to change your major to something you actually enjoyed if the price for it was to drop the perfect crystal piece that was mark’s precious heart. there were no words that could take that back, and going against every piece of advice that was given to you, you had imagined more times than you’d like to admit how this encounter would play out: what you would do, what you would say or not say, how it’d feel… but none of those scenarios inside your mind was anywhere near to the real sensation of being in front of him again.

mark looked taller — or maybe it was just the feeling of missing him crushing your soul and clouding your judgment —, the slim body now gave way to the body of a man who went to the gym and tried to truly take care of his health, his hair that previously used to be as dark as the t-shirts he used to enjoy wearing was now covered in a shade of red so bright that it reminded you of his favorite superhero’s suit. even still, the one thing that caught your attention the most were his eyes. before mark left, before the whole chaos, they were always big and full of life, like those of a curious cub and you could always feel a cozy warmth travel across your body when mark looked at you with such brightness; however, it seemed that ever since the canadian got back in town, they were opaque, closed off to the outer world as if his eyes were now carrying some kind of intense melancholy behind them. the familiar redness in his sclerae, months ago, used to always be accompanied by an excited and smiling version of mark lee, but that night the only thing apparent to you was that lee was holding on to weed like some kind of way to numb the break-up pain.

the redhead had lived a thousand different lives during his exchange: saw and learned things that he knew he would never have achieved if he hadn't accepted the opportunity to go to england and yet, his mind couldn’t recall any of those experiences with the genuine happiness he should’ve felt like any other normal and grateful person would if they were on his shoes; to mark, ever since you left him all alone, he had turned into nothing but an empty shell of what should’ve been the real mark lee. what were his experiences, his learnings, his funny stories if, at any moment, he was allowed to at least call the person he loved and share all of that with her?

“yeah, i guess i’m okay.” you answered, holding back a cry that was stuck in your throat before looking away. “you?”

a shiver went down the english student as he waited for his project partner to arrive at the coffee shop you two had agreed to meet at to finish for good the agonizing linguistics document. it didn’t even seem real that you were finally concluding the most stressful and endless project of your university career until that moment and despite the sweet taste of reaching the finish line, mark had on his lips a bitter one, because he knew that the very instant you pressed “send” on the body of that e-mail to your professor, all of his excuses to talk to you would come to an end. it was only the beginning of november, you should spend at least a few more weeks studying together if said professor were to follow a normal academic calendar like the rest of his fellow colleagues of the department.

mark would only have one last chance of making this work out and that chance was right there and then. anxiety and fear were destroying the boy with more strength than he himself was biting through his nails waiting for you to arrive.

“gosh, mark, i’m so sorry!” you said in a panting tone when you finally managed to get to the coffee shop and met the guy that, by that point, had already become your friend. “the bus took forever to get to the stop i needed and then the subway was also chaotic… anyways, i’m sorry that i’m late.”

the both of you stayed a long time in that coffee shop, not only finishing the assignment but also laughing together and watching a few episodes of modern family on his computer as a way to relax after all the constant flow of negative emotions the both of you were facing during that semester due to not only that particular class but also all the other ones with their enormous reading load. by the time you had indeed finished what you were supposed to do, you were feeling so comfortable in mark’s presence that you didn’t even notice when you heart started to race faster and faster before the mundane things the lee did: the way he smiled from ear to ear, or how kind he was to everyone around him. you were starting to fall in love with how mark explained all the different concepts he used to build his arguments across the paper like someone would explain the most basic things to a child, and you thought it was sweet the way he would say “dude” and “no way” every couple of sentences that fell from his lips. but, above all, unconsciously, the way mark seemed to glow every time he looked at you was ethereal to your eyes.

as soon as you sent the hated file, it started to rain on the outside of the coffee shop, but contrary to the ideal scenario, you couldn’t stay in there just waiting until the climate conditions became more favorable because the two of you had places to be at, on opposite directions. there would be no other alternative but to run to the nearest subway station, or in the brunette’s case, the bus stop.

mark immediately took off his hoodie to shield you as best as he could from the rain, in exchange for you protecting his backpack that contained his computer as if your life depended on it, the moment you two stepped outside the establishment and something of a thunderstorm was taking over the avenue. mark couldn’t help it and ended up laughing at the situation you two had found yourselves in, thinking about how he wished he was a little less broke and had a car to take the girl of his dreams back to her place without having to worry about the rain, or how he wished he was stronger to pick you up and carry you to the subway station and, with that, spare your shoes from coming in contact with the soaked surface of the sidewalk. before you could notice, you were right in front of the stairs that led to the station.

“bye, i think.” you said, giggling along with him while you tried to fix your hair that, despite mark’s hoodie’s protection, still got wet from the rain.

the lee was going to answer you like a decent and proper person, he really was, but in that very moment, a raindrop fell from the marquee above you and somehow managed to hit you right on the forehead, which made you close your eyes, but mark kept his wide open. with an automatic reaction of his body, almost like an involuntary movement that he was incapable of controlling — such as the beats of his accelerated heart — his left hand traveled to your neck while his right thumb was busy drying the solitary raindrop slowly, to give his mind time to analyze every little inch of your face so close to his. mark tried to respond with words to your farewell, but his impulse to kiss you was far stronger than any cohesive phrase that his brain could formulate in that moment.

the literature student, now in his final semester, nodded as he bit his lower lip and those opaque eyes fell to the floor beneath his feet after stepping on the remaining of his blunt. mark didn’t even know why he started that conversation in the first place, it was obvious that it was impossible for him to stand close to you without it affecting some part of him — whether for good or for bad — and even still, there he was, not managing to say a single word to you, nor being able to get closer, just feeding that giant gray and terrifying cloud that grew over both of your heads due to the impasse of what this was and what it should have been.

unlike his mind, that was only able to repeat tirelessly the day he finally built the confidence to kiss you, yours was in a hurricane of terrible memories that involved the brief, yet intense, relationship you two shared — or whatever the hell one could call it. how was it even possible that something that lasted only four months could leave such deep scars?

if mark was trying to hold back a smile remembering how it felt to have your lips on top of his, you were only torturing yourself with the replayed image of mark being crushed in front of you, by no fault other than your own. it was your fault that fear was allowed to consume every single good thing that the lee had ever given you; it was your fault that you’d thought that whole thing was a sick and sadistic joke from the universe and that, in reality, there was no way someone like him could've ever fallen in love with you. in the deepest, darkest, cruelest part of your soul, you were convinced that everything was your fault and not your mind trying to destroy you before something so pure and happy.

you were a sinking ship, navigating towards a port with not a single sight of a lighthouse’s spark to help you, not knowing how to reach the treasure that awaited your arrival because other people had already destroyed the lighthouse. the ability to grope around, trying to find yourself in the darkness you’d placed yourself, was stripped away from you the second you gave in to the bruises that were caused by third parties, and mark knew it wasn't your fault, although it was still difficult to try and be the guide to someone that wouldn't allow them to have access to the heat and light from the fire he tried to offer.

without even realizing it, the silenced cry stuck in your throat for months on end started to escape, not giving you any power to control it. you felt anger, sadness, frustration and you were missing mark… all at the very same time, in an endless swirl triggered by the mere vision of having mark back into your reality.

just like the first time you kissed, the unconscious answer of mark lee’s body to the sound of you crying after such a long time being away from you was to wrap his arms around your body without allowing himself to give too much thought to the action that just took place. if it was even possible, noticing you needing him in any way, shape or form was a true calling for him and it didn't matter how much time could've gone by, the lee couldn't ignore it. to love you and protect you was just as natural as breathing.

between the supplications for your tears to stop and hair strokes, mark then began to feel something that he thought was dead coming back to life inside the hollow box that was his chest. for months now, the redhead just knew that his heart was no longer there. instead, it must've been put inside a bottle and thrown away into the ocean that separated his emotions from his rational mind, as if he wasn't even the owner of his own feelings.

“please, princess, don't cry. i’m begging you.”

the cruelty of your mind wouldn't give you a break for not even a single second ever since the last time you've heart mark’s melodious voice so close to your ear, and the fact that it carried the same heavy tone of request didn't help with your genuine desire to stop your sobbings as your face was pressed against his chest. in that moment, the last thing on your mind were the looks that other people could be directing at the two of you; you could only see the desperation all over the face of the only man you've ever truly loved. he was in such pain that day — the day you told him you didn't want to see him anymore. soon, though, that image was replaced with the memory of the gut-wrenching feeling of chronic emptiness that filled your chest the following week and you came to your senses that you had make a mistake, but that it was also too late: mark was in another country, it was far too late to ask for forgiveness.

“i know you probably hate me right now. i shouldn't have done that, i shouldn't have said that, i was such an idiot, stupid… i'm sorry, mark, i don't know what was going on in my mind to treat like that, i-”

that sobbing wouldn't allow you to form coherent sentences properly and the way you were crying so helplessly was becoming melancholic instead of just sad to the man holding you. if only mark could get into your merciless head just how he would never be able to hate you, not in a million years, not when there was so much love, desire and adoration intrinsic to the image he had of you, then maybe that big gray cloud would disappear forever and the two of you could just live like he hoped for. all mark wanted was to have the privilege of loving you again.

“y/n, look at me” mark held the red and tear wet face of his beloved girl with kindness while his tone of voice was filled with all the firmness the moment could ask for. “for christ’s sake, y/n, i love you. i could never hate you. dude, really, for once just keep your head out of this and focus on what i’m telling you right now. i love you and this whole time i was thinking of you. only you.”

even if he knew you wouldn't answer anything for a few seconds, or maybe even minutes, mark just allowed a sweet smile to appear on his lips while he delighted himself with the feeling of being allowed to hold your face once again, to stroke your cheeks and to place small, delicate kisses all over your beautiful face — which he knew would force your breathing to slow down, giving you the chance to calm down again. the canadian was smelling like the combination of weed and beer, but somehow, your body knew how to identify the familiar and characteristic smell of his cologne; the same smell your searched for and ached for during the coldest nights, when missing him was too overwhelming it almost felt like a hole was being digged up in your chest. that familiarity was the reason for the shy smile that took over your lips, that opened a breach for light and happiness after all those tears while mark traced your lips with his thumb, admiring you like you were some kind of artwork created just for him.

“i was made to stay just like this with you, princess. and i’m not leaving this time.”

#— ⟡ 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐥𝐞𝐞 !#— ⟡ 𝐤𝐩𝐨𝐩 !#— ⟡ 𝐧𝐜𝐭 !#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee x y/n #mark lee x you #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #mark lee sfw #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #nct #nct dream drabbles #mark lee drabbles

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mimirekka · 1 month

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On your mind (Ace’s Pov)

Some weeks had passed since Ace had joined the Whitebeard Pirates. He was still getting used to his new situation. The idea of defeating Whitebeard was still on his mind, but it slowly faded away as he befriended the members of the crew. Everyone on the ship was being nice and patient with him, treating him as if he had always belonged by their side.

Well, everyone except one person… For some reason, you seemed to avoid him at all costs. Ace didn’t care much the first times it happened, it’s not like he was actually trying to be close to anyone. Also, there were a lot of people on the Moby Dick, why should he care about one person ignoring him? But, as months passed, it started to annoy him a little bit.

The way you walked away from him anytime he was getting closer, the way your eyes looked at his own before you looked away in a rush, how you stayed slient any time he tried to talk to you… It made him upset, as he didn’t understand what was he doing wrong.

He was curious about you. He wanted to know you, to understand what you thought about him and your reasons to act that way towards him. At first it was only that, curiosity. And his curiosity started turning into something else, as he saw the way you acted around everyone else. You were gentle and caring with everyone, always laughing and smiling. He was growing attached to that side of you, the only one you wouldn’t show him.

And so the idea of getting closer to you stayed on his mind, growing inside of his head as an impossible wish. Because he could see that you couldn’t stand being by his side, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He watched you from the distance, as long as he could before you noticed him and escaped from his eyes. It was enough for him, he got to look at you, he shouldn’t want more than that until the feeling went away.

He tried his best to ignore it, to pretend it didn’t annoy him to watch you laughing around everyone else but him, to see you smile happily only when he wasn’t around, to see how your mood changed if he wanted to join your table at dinner… It bothered him, making him slightly jealous, even if he would never admit it.

But the feeling didn’t disappear as time passed. In fact, it grew stronger, to the point where he almost couldn’t stand it anymore. He wanted to be closer to you, to be able to look at your eyes directly, to talk at you, to even touch your skin… He wanted to be the one you smiled to, to be one you talked to about your day, to just sit by your side as he listened to your voice… He wanted to see that side of you personally.

You were always on his mind at this point. Whatever he did, he was thinking about you. Whenever he fell asleep, he was dreaming about you. Wherever he went, he was wondering if you would like to go, too. Whatever he ate, he wanted you to taste it as well.

Not much time passed until people started noticing Ace’s behavior towards you. He didn’t get surprised by it, as he wasn’t good at hiding what he felt towards you. He didn’t mind people gossiping about what he could be thinking about you, he simply didn’t care enough.

He only cared about what you thought about him, and he was determined to find out, whether it was good or not.

♡➳➳➳➳➳➳♡➳➳➳➳➳➳♡➳➳➳➳➳➳♡

Ace's pov everyone! I want to make a final part for this little story, so stay tuned(? lmao

Thank you for the love you all gave to my first post, it made me really happy as I hadn't written anything for years 😭

Hope you like this one as much <3

#one piece #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace x y/n #one piece x reader #gn reader #canon x reader #ace x reader #ace x you #ace x y/n

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 months

Note

How about Kieran practicing asking out his crush in front of some Pokémon in the terrarium? Oh and said crush is currently using the synchro machine with a Pokémon who can easily blend in with the ones found in the terrarium and is among the group watching / listening to him. Thankfully his crush likes him back.

Here's some cuteness for Pokemon Day! ❤

..........

'Man, this synchro machine is fun.'

It was just another warm and sunny day in the Terarium, with you running around as a Smeargle and painting on rocks to your heart's content. A few others were doing the exact same thing, not knowing that you were actually a human trainer in disguise.

It was nice becoming a Pokemon for a little while. You didn't have any immediate responsibilities nor would you attract unwanted attention from others.

People kept coming up to you asking for battles, especially after you became the new BB League Champion. Even now you didn't think it was that big of a deal...

Besides, you still felt bad about ripping the title from Kieran.

You knew that he needed to be humbled and beaten in battle, although the guilt lingered as you recalled how devastated he was that he lost to you again.

Fortunately, things have gotten a lot better for him, as he learned to enjoy Pokémon battles again and realize it's just a silly title at the end of the day.

It's not something he needed to have in order to be worthy of love and respect.

All in all, your friendship has grown stronger than ever. To the point where the casual battle you both had didn't stress him out. He enjoyed it despite its outcome.

But today you haven't seen him anywhere in the academy, although Drayton pointed out that he ventured into the Terarium...and said nothing more than that.

You figured he just needed time to ease back into everything after a much-needed break in Kitakami.

Of course you two recently saved the whole land from Pecharunt's possession-spree. So you'd give him time to ease back into things.

So while he was doing whatever in the Terarium, you were just living the life of a Smeargle, painting a pokeball on the face of a boulder. One or two others have joined you, inspired by your art, and a few stray Deerlings and other Pokémon stopped by to observe.

Then suddenly, you heard a familiar voice.

"Th-This is kinda awkward, but...you think you and your friends could help me out?"

"Smear??" Spinning around, you completely forgot you were a Smeargle for a second, eyes wide to see Kieran there, and he was holding...a paper?

'Oh right..I'm a Pokémon, he can't tell..' You realize and internally sigh with relief, curious as to what he wrote.

"I'm just..t-trying to ask out this person I really like, but..I'm too embarrassed to do it in front of people. So...Pokémon might be better? I dunno.." He grumbled to himself, shaking his head. "Just let me know if this is good or not."

You looked to the other Pokemon, who seemed to understand him with a collection of nods, chirps, and growls. You gave your approval with a thumbs-up.

The way Kieran smiled at you made your heart skip a beat.

"Okay, th-thanks...ahem.." Clearing his throat, he glanced at the paper, before pocketing it and looking directly at you. "So..[y/n]..."

'It's...me? Oh my arceus..' You held onto your tail brush, trying not to give yourself away but at the same time feeling heat rise to your cheeks. 'Be cool, be cool, be cool-'

"I know I..wasn't a great friend back then, but I'm glad we were able to move past all of that stuff. You've made me happy in ways I could never imagine. I lost my spark..and you were the one to put it back into me, and I'm forever grateful. That being said..I-I...um...I'm ready to be more than just friends....so....I.....w-wowzers..this is tough..I dunno if I can do this." His posture became slumped, and you frowned a little.

"Smear, smearg!"

'Kieran, c'mon..don't give up.' You silently encouraged.

He perked up at your cry and saw the other Pokémon cheering him on, and he shyly smiled. "Thanks guys, so..would you...um..like to go out with me, [y/n]? Or wait, that might be comin' off too strong..uh...wanna grab somethin' at the cafeteria later---no, no..that sounds too much like Drayton...ugh....I'll be fine."

Rubbing his hands over his face, he calmed himself down and looked at the group, sheepish. "Worst they can say is no, right? But...I-I hope they don't. They mean a lot to me..although if they wanna stay friends, I don't mind that too.." He mumbled.

You felt a strong tug on your heartstrings upon seeing the despondent look on his face. Like he was expecting you to reject him right away.

It made you wanna desynchronize right now and reassure him you accept his confession, but you didn't wanna scare him with the fact you were listening this whole time.

Maybe you could drop subtle hints.

You wanted to express your feelings for him, too, in your own way.

So after the Pokémon dispersed, and Kieran stood there pondering over what to do next, he noticed you walking up to him, handing him a rock.

"What's this..?"

After close examination, he realized there was a heart painted on it.

"You think [y/n] would like this?" He blinked, before smiling and kneeling down, patting you on the head. "Thanks, Smeargle...y'know your tail color is also their favorite color. Funny coincidence, right?"

"Smear.." You pointed to yourself, tilting your head.

"Yes. You." He laughed a little. "You don't happen to belong to them, do ya?"

"Smear..smear!" You nod.

"Oh? Where's your trainer?"

"..........."

A look of realization crosses his face. "Hold on-"

Suddenly, you switched off the synchro machine, causing your Smeargle to vanish and him to freeze, now understanding what was going on.

It was you.

This whole time you were synched to it, listening to his confession and watching him fumble over his words like an idiot.

After you emerged from your hiding place, back in your actual body and Smeargle at your side, you searched around for Kieran--only to find him sitting by a small pond, his back to you.

"Ki?"

His shoulders were tense, although he didn't dare look at you. Instead his face was buried into his hands, trying to make himself look as small as possible.

Maybe, just maybe, if he sat very very still....you wouldn't see him.

But unfortunately luck didn't shine on him this time, as you just calmly sat beside him, chuckling. "C'mon, that was actually really sweet. Practicing in front of Pokémon. They don't judge."

"...I-I didn't know you were there.." He spoke, voice slightly muffled. "I'm so embarrassed...this isn't how it was s'pposed to go-"

"Well, if you want my answer..it's yes."

"......huh?" Peeking through his fingers, he gazed at you for a long while, wondering if you were joking or not. But the look in your eyes was warm, and your smile genuine.

"I was trying to use Smeargle to express my own feelings, but just so there's no confusion...I'll go out with you, Kieran." You told him, feeling your heart beating fast again. "You make me happy and..I wanna keep being there for you. Through the good and the bad. So...I'm ready to be more than friends, too."

He was stunned. "Really..?"

"Yes." You opened your arms up to him, and a few moments later he uncovered his face to hug you tightly. It lasted for several seconds, before you pulled away to kiss his cheek.

Immediately, he began burning red. "W-Wowzers...so..we're official, huh? Just like that?"

"Yep." You chuckled at his flusteredness, intertwining your fingers with his own. "And if you wanna go on a little cafeteria date, I don't mind."

All Kieran could do was nod and smile, his gaze going to your Smeargle who was painting absentmindedly on a different rock. And when it was done, it presented you two with a simple drawing of you holding hands with him.

They were stick figures, but it was still a masterpiece.

You got yourselves a little wingman in the form of a Painter Pokémon.

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #pokemon kieran #smeargle #i chose smeargle bc its everywhere in the terarium #fluff

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ichorai · 15 days

Text

ties that bind ; nanami kento ; march 14th.

pairing ; nanami kento x reader

drabble synopsis ; even the strongest sorcerers need to be saved sometimes.

themes ; fluff, slice of life, established relationship (married), parents au

warnings / includes ; gojo has no sense of boundaries, tiny hint of jealous nanami at the end, and all the jujutsu students are just chilling in this one :) can you tell i'm in desperate need of slice of life content, introduction to the other kids reader has with nanami! yuriko (born 2019), hiro (born 2020), and takara (born 2023)!

series masterlist.

14th march, 2024

With the cold remnants of winter fading into the soft blossoms of springtime, you and Nanami ventured out to the parks with the kids more often. This time, you’d brought the Jujutsu students along to enjoy the day as well—Yuji and Megumi were playing a rather competitive game of catch with a frisbee, Nobara and Maki were off buying ice cream from a cart vendor, and Toge and Yuta were leaned up against Panda, all soaking up the afternoon sun.

Nanami was by the playground, gently pushing Yuriko and Hiro, five and three respectively, on the low kiddie-swings with a small smile on his face. His lips were moving as he spoke to them, but you couldn’t hear from the bench you were sitting a few feet away. You were rocking a stroller, carrying your youngest daughter, Takara. Her soft hair, a shade somewhere between you and Nanami’s own heads, was pulled into a tufty bun, which threatened to come loose with the position she’d fallen asleep in.

Gojo had also invited himself to the excursion, currently sprawled out in the space beside you, having his third—or was it his fourth? You couldn’t quite remember—brightly-colored popsicle. The two of you had exchanged quite a few pleasantries, but mostly it was just him chatting away about his students and the missions they often frequented.

“I still don’t really understand,” you said, which made his head turn your way. “I can’t believe you actually teach these kids how to survive by dropping them in dangerous situations like that.”

The thought of your own children going on to learn in such a way made a shiver run down your back. Nanami would also surely pop a blood vessel if he thought about it for too long.

“They wouldn’t die,” Gojo responded easily. “Not on my watch, at least. I can save anyone. Anyone who wants to be saved, anyway.”

There was a distant tone to his words, but he was wearing a wide smile as he regarded you through his blindfolds.

“Hm…”

“Don’t be worried about them,” he reassured you. “Trust me, showing them the real world is the best way for them to learn.”

“I know,” you said, voice small. Your eyes darted to Yuji, who had leapt an incredible distance up in the air to snatch the frisbee Megumi had tossed. “I just worry for all of them so much. It’s like they’re all my kids too now, you know?”

Gojo licked a long stripe up his melting popsicle, humming. “They’re stronger than you think. Besides, they’ll always have each other.”

Your next words made Gojo freeze in place, tongue still stuck out flat over the popsicle.

“If you save everyone, who saves you?”

Gingerly, Gojo pulled away from the popsicle. He laughed then, but it was slight and hardly genuine.

“I don’t need to be saved,” replied the white-haired man. “I’m the strongest.”

That elicited a soft snort of amusement from you. You weren’t looking at him anymore—instead, facing your husband at the playground, who had taken to helping Hiro and Yuriko onto a see-saw. A fond smile graced the corner of your lips.

“Everyone needs to be saved at some point, Satoru. All we have is each other, in the end.”

There was a long silence as Gojo thoughtfully slurped up what was left on the popsicle stick. He was already itching for another.

He reached out to pinch at your cheek, ignoring your noise of surprise. “You’re so cute, you know. I’m so glad Nanami married you.” His words were high-pitched and crooned right into your ear.

“Ack—Gojo, stop!” You were laughing, nose wrinkled as you swatted at his hand.

Gojo had to pull away eventually, because he could feel your husband’s exasperated glare fall onto him. A second longer, and he figured Nanami would’ve pulled out that blunt blade of his.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fanfiction #nanami kento x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento ff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami fanfiction #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento drabbles #nanami kento imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff

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miyseung · 6 months

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 (𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐄)

summary: you were tired of waiting around for heeseung to confess. so, to rile him up, you go on a 'date' with his best friend, jake.

genre: angsty fluff

includes: roommates au, uni au (mentioned once) friends to lovers, jealousy, heeseung is whipped but won't make a move, jake is mentioned once as hee’s bsf, angst with happy ending

pairing: bsf! heeseung x bsf! fem! reader

word count: 1.3k

a/n: late heeseung birthday special! isn't that angsty unlike SOMEONE (read: sol) tbh, had this in my drafts so i just rolled with it

“Where are you going?” He eyed you as you headed towards the door. Your outfit wasn’t something you usually wore. You were all dressed up, ready to go outside. “To a cafe.” “Dressed like that?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall. “Any issue?”

“Well, you usually don’t go to cafes- hell, anywhere- dressed so…fancy? You’re trying to impress someone, hm?” He saw right through you. It wasn’t like you were hiding it extremely well, but it still always caught you off guard.

“Okay, maybe I am. Any issue?”

“Who is it?” “Jake.” Heeseung’s eyes widened and he crossed his arms. You were trying to impress his best friend. What did Jake have that he didn’t?

“Why? You told me before that you liked him. What’s with the sudden interest?”

“I just like him, okay?”

He looked up at the ceiling.

“Um, I just don’t know if he’s the right one for you.”

“Well, I can’t just wait around anymore. I’m going to have to search.”

“Yeah, but- I don’t think you’re his type.”

“...are you saying that negatively?”

He pushed himself off the wall and came closer to you. His eyes were soft but the tone of his voice was firm.

“Look, I’ve known him for a long time too, it just wouldn't be a good match.”

“You need to also know that life is full of surprises.”

“This would be a nasty one.”

You were getting him all riled up. The point of this whole ‘date’ was to see if Heeseung would react. You weren’t actually going out romantically with Jake, it was just a meet up. You hadn’t fallen for him as hard as you feel for Heeseung.

“Well, why are you so pressed about it? It shouldn’t bother you in any way, right? We’re just friends, it’s not like we’re dating or anything.”

He had a very strong urge to just kiss you to make you shut up.

“I know, I just…wanted to tell you what I thought. I’m serious though, it’s not a good idea.”

“Didn’t ask, don’t care.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, clearly pissed off.

“Okay then. Have fun with Jake.”

“I will.”

That hit him like a shot in the heart. He provoked you, so why was this hurting?

“Call me if you need anything or if something happens, hm?”

He held your hand for a few seconds before letting you go and smiling, although it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Thanks Hee. You’re the best best friend someone could have.”

You hugged him, and he hugged you back. His grip was oddly stronger than normal, and he was clutching onto you as if he didn’t want you to leave. You ignored this and broke off the hug before waving to him as you walked out the door of your apartment, closing it.

Heeseung stood frozen there for a few seconds, before sighing and pinching his left arm.

No, this wasn’t a nightmare. He wished it was.

His vision was blurring due to the tears in his eyes, and he pursed his lips into a thin line.

Hell, here he was, crying over a girl.

That too, you.

He slumped onto the floor, burying his head in his hands.

He wanted to scream, punch something and take his anger out on something.

He did neither.

He stared blankly at the wall, hands now crossed against his chest again. He tried to think of anything, everything other than you and your date with his best friend.

He failed miserably.

After a few hours, a notification popped up on his phone while he was mindlessly watching TV. He turned it on to see that it was six messages from you. He opened it to see that it was five pictures of you and Jake, with bright smiles on both of your faces. His chest tightened, and he wanted to throw his phone against the wall. He wanted to block you. He wanted to tell you that you were breaking his heart. He wanted to tell you how he felt.

‘happy 4 u :)’

You looked at his message, cogs turning in your brain. That was…a response alright. You couldn’t understand what he felt behind it. If he was truly happy, he’d text something in a more excited manner. If he was jealous or mad or sad or just feeling negative in general, he’d text less enthusiastic. What was he like back home?

You reached your shared apartment. He unlocked the door, expression unreadable.

“Hey Seung. Nothing burned down while I was gone, right?”

You chuckled, but it was lost on him. He usually laughed along, no matter how corny the joke was.

“Check for yourself. I’m going to bed.”

“Uh, so quickly? It’s only 8 p.m.”

“We have uni tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s a Sunday.”

“I want to wake up early to study.”

“Since when were you studious? You usually stay up until like 4 a.m. playing video games with me.”

“Don’t want to this time.”

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it? What happened? You know yo-”

“No.”

He stormed off to his room. As he was about to enter, you pulled his arm, preventing him from going.

“Heeseung, you’re not acting like yourself. You usually trust me with anything.”

“You don’t really care.”

“I d-”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does!”

“You don’t need to know, okay?”

He raised his voice at you, making him sound intimidating. Your grip on his arm didn’t falter though, and you were slowly pulling him closer.

“Seung-”

“No, I can’t- I can’t trust you with my feelings, because damn it Y/N, you’re the reason behind it! It’s so obvious that I’m so foolishly in love with you and yet you’re so fucking oblivious to how I feel! Do you know how- how hard it is to hear you talk about Jake like that, how hard it is to pretend to be happy- for you, when all I just want is for you to love me back?!”

He was breathing heavily after his outburst. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he gritted his teeth together in frustration. Your grip on his bicep loosened, and your hand slid down from his arm to his hand.

“Heeseung…”

His eyes shot open in fear as he realized what he just said.

“Y/N, Y/N, I’m so sorry- I didn’t…didn’t mean it, mm? It was a mis-mistake, I was just joking- haha! So funny right? Very funn-”

You pulled him closer until your noses were touching. Shocked by the sudden movement, he whispered quietly, his warm breath hitting your face.

“What…Y/N, what does this mean?”

“It means I like you too, Heeseung.”

His eyes softened, and both of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you so delicately.

“I’m- I can’t even explain how I feel in words like now.”

One of his hands went up to your hair, his palm on the back of your head, holding you firmly in place, yet it felt so loving. His fingers got tangled in your hair, and he started into your eyes, smiling softly. You leaned in closer, your noses brushing against each other’s.

“May I…?”

“You may.”

He moved close enough to allow your foreheads to bump. He continued gazing into your eyes, admiring them. He them slowly moved his lips to yours, closing his eyes. He kissed you gently, holding you close. His lips moved carefully against yours, as the fingers of his free hand intertwined with yours. After a few seconds, he pulled away, before wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you, sighing.

“I’m sorry for the sudden outburst, Y/N.”

“It’s okay- it helped the both of us anyway.”

He chuckled a this, and pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you.”

“For…?”

“For not choosing Jake.”

“I knew you’d be jealous!”

“I was not!”

“You were!”

“Was not!”

“Were!” “Was n-”

He felt your lips against his again, making him get flustered. After you broke the kiss, you grinned.

“You totally were jealous. At least now you know that you shouldn’t be.”

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tojisun · 10 months

Text

you on my lips

avatar!jake sully x fem human!reader

!! smut - minors dni; size kink; fingering; thigh fucking (central ‘plot’ point); hinted age gap; so much petnames; no actual penetration sorry about that teehee // 2.7k words

: a1 jake is making ‘notha appearance because i luv him so much; i genuinely forgot that avatars cant breathe human air or smthn so i may have fucked up the setting so ignore that; just jake being so in love with you n fucking ur thighs <333 hope u guys would like this!!; title is from taco truck - lana

jake presses your bare legs together, watching the way your plush flesh dimple at his touch, before folding them to your front, quiet hums of praises rolling off his lips when you follow his lead, your tensed legs turning into jelly – so malleable to his touch.

you press your face on the inside of your arm, avoiding his eyes, feeling shy at how easily he could manhandle you. you feel so exposed like this; so vulnerable in his arms. he is so much bigger than you now, so much stronger. there is a pooling desire expanding in the pit of your stomach at the realization, overwhelming all of your senses, because you love this.

you love the feeling of being helpless in his arms; the feeling of having someone be in control of yourself – your desires, your pleasure, your body.

a quiet whimper makes it past your lips and it is too humiliating to acknowledge because jake has yet to even do anything but here you are, a weeping wreck of crazed arousal. you are sure that with his new heightened senses, he could probably smell the want rolling off of you.

you hear jake click his tongue. “don’t hide from me, sweetheart.”

you shake your head, your breath hitching when jake presses close, his pelvis rutting against your ass. even through your lace panties and jake’s loincloth, you can already feel his erect cock, hard and heavy and long. you bite off a pleading sigh that threatens to spill from your lips, still feeling shy at having your body contorted to jake’s command.

you jump when a resounding smack lands on the back of your thigh, your skin stinging from the sudden slap.

“jake!” you cry, looking at him with a pout and a feeble glare.

jake just grins at you anyway. “finally looking at me?” he rubs at your stinging skin, offering comfort.

you sniff, wanting to look away again just to spite him, but jake looks so beautiful, you are sure that not even eywa can force you to look away from him.

he is tall and blue and distinctly not a human, but god you can still see the man you’ve loved in this new body he is gifted with. the same smirk, the same lilting voice teasing you without any rest, the same curious eyes.

“what’s got you so distracted, kid?” he asks, his palms kneading the back of your thighs, flicking his gaze between your supple skin and your glinting eyes, looking so enamoured with your smaller being.

“you,” you whisper, blinking at him. “always you.”

your quiet admission has him inhaling sharply, his teasing touches pausing like he didn’t expect your honesty.

“yeah?” he murmurs, his gaze focusing on you, pools of amber shining with untapped ferocity.

you nod, beginning to fidget with your shirt, feeling breathless at the sinking notion that this na’vi warrior before you has successfully caught his prey.

slowly, like he doesn’t want to spook you, jake’s hands trail lower down the back of your thighs, his thicker and longer fingers teasing the hems of your panties. you bite your bottom lip, anticipation coursing through you, holding your breath when he finally tugs them down, letting them pool around your squeezed thighs.

you whimper as the cool air hits your damp pussy, your tender skin is so sensitive that you can already feel yourself twitching, your clit slowly hardening. jake’s eyes immediately fall to your cunt, amber pupils dilating in hunger, spelling danger.

delicious danger.

“you smell so good, baby,” jake murmurs, his voice is quiet and rumbling, almost like he is afraid of breaking the mood that is building between you two.

you choke on your whine but jake doesn’t seem to notice, still enraptured by your cunt; you watch the way his ears flatten onto his skull, his tail thrashing behind him in excitement. you are glad that you have this effect on jake, but you are feeling so desperate. so needy.

you need him, anything he has to give – his touch, his love.

“jake, please,” you say, your cheeks burning when he flicks his eyes back to you.

“shit, yeah,” he replies in a rush, hiking your panties higher from your thighs, to your legs, until he is throwing them somewhere behind him. “need me bad, don’t you, baby?”

you nod, not knowing what else to say, not truly trusting yourself with any more words, afraid that if you were to open your mouth you would just end up whining for his cock.

jake presses your legs close and folds them to your chest again. one of his hands reaches out to cup your face, rubbing soothing nothings along your cheek, before he is bending down to kiss you.

the kiss is messy, filthy, jake’s wider tongue is forced into your mouth and you moan, not used to the feeling. he lets go of your cheek, warm palm tickling your neck before drifting into the space between you two, teasing touches making you tremble, before he’s finally reached your pussy.

the first touch of his fingers has you keening, the sound reverberating in the kiss and being engulfed whole by jake. you turn your head away, the kiss breaking, as you struggle to breathe properly amidst jake’s teasing touches on your hardened clit.

“shh,” jake whispers, nosing along your neck. “i’ve barely touched you but look at you squirming.” a satisfied growl ripples from his throat, the sound causing goosebumps to rise along your skin.

“god i missed this – missed you,” he murmurs, two of his fingers playing with your folds, pushing them apart before another finally presses in, sinking knuckle deep.

you choke at how further he can reach into you, your lungs constricting at the feeling. it’s foreign. different. but it’s so damn good.

jake crooks his finger, pressing along your walls, before he’s pulling out and thrusting in again.

“jake,” you sigh. “missed you too.” you are elated at finally being touched but you also know it is not enough.

you feel his grin on your neck before he’s pulling up to look at you fully. “you’re so beautiful, kid.”

you couldn’t even reply before jake’s adding another finger, the stretch making you gasp, your body jolting in surprise. his fingers aren’t just long, they’re also thicker now, and two of jake’s na’vi fingers easily feel like three.

you keen, your body trembling at the edging pleasure – they feel too much and not enough at the same time.

“shit, baby, you just clamped down on me.” he chuckles amidst his fingers curling in your pussy, gliding along your walls with familiarity. “what’d i give to feel this around my cock right now.”

the reminder of jake’s cock has you keening; want and need thrumming along your veins.

“want that!” you sob, your voice barely even louder than the wet sounds of jake bullying his fingers in your tiny pussy.

jake clicks his tongue, shaking his head, some of his braids falling from his hair tie to frame the sharp edges of his face. “we can’t, baby girl. no proper lube – you’ll get hurt.” a whine rumbles from his throat like the thought alone hurts him. “don’t want t’hurt you, baby. never.”

you sniffle, nodding even amidst the disappointment coursing through you. “s’okay,” you say. “love you.”

jake smiles, his hand pausing, ripping a disgruntled groan from you, but his ears flick in attention and his tail sways happily anyway. “i love you too.”

you reach a hand to wrap around jake’s wrist, seeing how little you could cover with your palm, before you flick your eyes at him. “more, jake, please. ‘m close.”

jake’s nose twitches, his head dipping to the side in thought. you almost groan and punch him, impatience slowly overpowering the remaining echoes of pleasure thrumming in you, but jake is already moving before you could. wordlessly, he pulls his fingers from your wet cunt and immediately begins to rip his loincloth from his hips.

you know he’s big but nothing could still prepare you for jake’s fully-hard cock, your gasp being engulfed by the low moan that reverberated from the base of his throat. you watch as he continues to touch himself, your chest burning when you realized that he’s using the same hand that had been fucking you.

the sight of jake’s eyes furrowed close, his face warping in pleasure as he continues to fuck his fist, has you clenching on nothing. the reminder angers you, seeing jake being unfair – you haven’t even cum.

“jake, me too. i wanna feel good too,” you say, sounding petulant even to your own ears.

jake flicks his eyes to you, his smirk looking more like a snarl. “of course, sweetheart.” he grabs your legs again, pushing them back to your chest, exposing your cunt to him.

“can’t believe i can’t fuck this pretty thing,” he says, swiping a finger along your wet folds.

you hiss at the unexpected touch, glaring at him only for your heart to stutter and excitement to bloom right from the pit of your stomach when you see jake lining himself up between your thighs.

oh.

“oh,” you repeat out loud, your eyes going wide, your lungs going breathless as a hammering desire flooded over you completely.

jake hums, looking so animalistic in his excitement as his heated gaze rove over your body before climbing up to meet your eyes. “ain’t this perfect, kid?”

you nod, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. jake watches, enthralled, when you let go of your spit-slicked lip.

“very,” you murmur, and you watch as jake trembles at hearing your breathy whimper.

look at what you do to him.

you watch with bated breath as jake lines himself between your legs. the tremors overtaking your body are just faint but you know he can see just how much you are anticipating this.

there is something so intimately different with getting your thighs fucked. it feels unusual, odd, but the weight of jake’s cock sliding along your thighs and rutting just above your hardened nub feels too good. it’s a different type of pleasure, a different type of intimacy, but you react just as blissed out as though jake’s burying his cock in your cunt.

you hiccup, knowing jake could feel the thrum of your arousal, feeding off of it as he continues to hump his cock between your thighs, running the underside of it along your wet folds.

“jesus, kid,” he groans, his wide hands wrapped around your soft thighs, careful not to squeeze too hard even when he is overwhelmed with pleasure. “how could y’r thighs feel so good ‘round me?”

he grinds his cock along your folds again as he says this, bumping the head of his cock onto your nub, the muted pleasure making your back arch. jake pulls out only to repeat the slide, purposefully hitting your sensitive clit to coax muffled gasps out of you.

“look at me,” he murmurs, reverence tinging his voice. “c’mon, kid. need t’see y’r pretty eyes.”

you blink up at him, trying to focus your gaze past your wet-clamped lashes to look at jake’s bigger body. he looks so good while he’s in the throes of pleasure: his lips are pulled in a snarl, his teeth gritted together to contain his growls.

jake’s muscles ripple as he hoists your legs up, exerting effort to push them together after feeling the way you’ve turned putty in his hold, grunting in appreciation when he drives his cock along the meat of your thighs again.

“there she is.” jake grins when your eyes finally focus on him. “y’should see how y’look, baby. so fucking beautiful. tiny. you could ruin me, y’know that kid?”

you nod, your voice busy with whispered moans, feeling the ache of having been edged for so long slowly engulf you.

“jake,” you sob, stretching your arms out to hold onto his wrists. “need more.”

jake curses, his stuttering thrusts returning with vigour.

“i know baby,” he replies, folding himself over you to plant kisses along your throat. “jus’ gon come on these pretty thighs then i’ll take care of you, yeah?”

he sinks his teeth on the supple of your skin, tearing a startled moan out of you. a particularly rough thrust drags his cock along your cunt again, the wetness of your folds making for a smoother glide. and the sounds, god, it’s all so filthy.

jake detaches his teeth from your neck, running his tongue over the sensitive skin, enjoying just how deep the indents are. you tremble, feeling so lightheaded from the way jake is using you.

because that’s just it, isn’t it?

your body, all of it, is for jake’s pleasure.

“jake!” you squeal, as if the knowledge of being his to use heightened the muted bliss centred on your wet folds.

“i know, yawne, i know.” his words are murmured on your skin, the na’vi endearment making you jolt.

yawne. yawne.

“your yawne,” you declare, your quiet voice gathering strength for this.

you feel jake’s lips smile from where they are pressed on your skin. “yeah, sweetheart. my yawne. mine.”

he pulls himself up, kissing your shoulders, your knees, then your legs as he does so. you two are quiet as he begins to thrust harder, resounding thwap-thwap-thwaps echoing in the space between you two. your hushed whimpers are almost drowned out by jake’s low moans; his warm hands still gripping the flesh of your thighs.

you reach a hand down to play with your clit, chasing a semblance of jake’s intense pleasure. you are quiet as you do so, but jake’s eyes still snap open, his intense gaze turning to watch you.

allured by his unwavering attention, you flick your nub with your fingers as though putting on a show for him. your chest heaves every time jake’s cockhead bumps with your hand, and he groans at the new feeling, his erratic thrusts turning faster, shorter, choppier.

“‘m close, sweetheart,” jake utters, his voice ringing loud and startling you.

you peer at him through your lashes. “cum on me, please.”

you didn’t expect your words to finally push him into his orgasm but you watch as jake curses, his body freezing, his back bending forward, before spurts of cum spray between your thighs and to your stomach.

“fuuuck, sweetheart,” jake moans, his eyes shut close to savour his orgasm.

you watch as he heaves, breathy moans falling from his lips, before his eyes blink open; his pupils are blown wide, the ambers of his irises having turned into thin rings. you see the way his eyes are unseeing, still dazed out because of his orgasm.

you giggle despite your delirium, dismissing him to swipe your fingers from your clit to your belly. jake turns, watching you dip your fingers to the splash of cum pooled on your stomach, his eyes dilated in interest when you pull your hand up to spread your fingers apart. his ears flick, ashamed at seeing his seed web around your fingers.

“jesus, kid,” he says, shaking his head, sounding so winded amidst his disbelief.

you grin at him as you wipe your hand on your shirt. “my turn, jake.”

jake returns your grin, his body going straight and his tail whipping in excitement. “of course, yawne,” he coos. “i didn’t forget.”

jake pulls his cock out, tiny shivers wracking his body at the overstimulation, before he inches away from you. you watch with bated breath as he bends down, pulling your legs apart as he does so, and dips his head low.

he runs his tongue along his teeth, slowly and deliberately. your lips part for a gasp, excitement thrumming in your veins when you realized what jake’s planning to do.

jake chuckles, shaking his head. “my smart yawne. be careful of my tswin, okay?”

you can only manage a nod, your voice fraying along with your mind.

“good girl.” then, jake descends on you, his promise ringing in your head.

tagging as requested: @whats-belay <3

#suns.f #jake sully x reader #jake sully x you #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x human!reader #jake sully #jake sully avatar #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader smut #avatar sm #suns #im so normal about him wdym #sure hes taken over my priorities but i!! am!! so normal!! about him 🤞🏼

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