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#and they sure seem to. no one shuts up about him when i visit his land (tho honestly I Get It lmao)
stuffeddeer · 2 days
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okay but..... pathetic yearning beast!stalkerzai... he's so quiet abt his obsession with u making up any excuse to have u around for subordinate purposes and when ur not around him he makes sure he can still keep tabs on u AHHH hes so sad and so smitten
"pathetic" i dont need to hear any more. im on board.
The continuous knocking on your apartment door leaves you anxious, quickly pulling on a comfy sweatshirt before answering the door. A breeze flies into the room, causing you to shiver, before you make eye contact with,
"Why aren't you at work today?" Dazai crosses his arms, an angry expression on his face. Though, the pout he wears causes it to be less intimidating than he'd normally be.
You glance into your apartment briefly, still feeling chilly while exposed to the outside air. "Um... I don't work?"
"You always work."
"Right. Which is why I have today off." Awkwardly, you itch your arm. "Am I… needed, Boss?"
Dazai sighs before walking into your apartment (with no invitation) and closes your own door behind him. "You're freezing."
"I'm slightly chilled," you shrug, brushing off the notion. Any other subordinate wouldn't dare correct the boss of the Port Mafia, but he'd always been more lenient with you - supposedly because you ‘aren’t as dumb’ as the rest. "But that's what the hoodie is for."
Without another word, Dazai plops down onto your couch, making a show of looking around your apartment. It’s tiny - the whole thing barely the size of his office at HQ — and Dazai wonders if you’d rather move in with him. For more space, of course. And he guesses you’d be saving on rent that way, too.
“How do you know where I live?” You ask curiously. Sure, it’s probably somewhere in your files, but your boss never seemed like the type to care.
Shrugging, he murmurs, “It’s my job.”
You want to make this visit quick, but kicking out your boss didn’t seem like a smart idea. “Are you thirsty? Would you like a cup of tea?..”
Yes, Dazai wants to try your tea. Just because you’re his subordinate, and he needs to make sure it’s up to par. What if he needs you to serve tea to some associates in the future? “I’d love one.”
Biting back a sigh, you fill your kettle before placing it on the stove, watching as your old gas stove flickers on. Silence hangs between you two - you had no intention of carrying the conversation when he just barged in uninvited.
Dazai seems to have a similar idea, sitting laxly on your couch and waiting for his tea. You pour one cup, uninterested in making one yourself, before placing it on the coffee table in front of him. “Sugar? Milk?”
“This is fine, thanks.” He takes a sip. Heavenly, he’s sure. Well, all tea tastes the same, but something about it coming from your hands… delectable. It’s as though he can taste the love you must pour into every cup.
Mouth shut, you take a seat on the chair across from him. “May I ask, sir, why are you here? Am I needed?” The question is posed once again as you hope for a quick resolution. Kicking out your boss is wrong, but hopefully he’ll read between the lines and show himself out - the same way he showed himself in.
A long sip of tea permeates the otherwise silent room. He’s doing this on purpose, you’re sure of it.
“…I was worried,” he mumbles into the mug, sound muffled and quiet.
“Sorry?”
“You should be,” he replies, uninterested in repeating himself. “I needed you today, only to find out you vanished into thin air.”
“I didn’t run, if that’s what you’re implying,” your eyes narrow. You would not be mistaken for a traitor.
“No, no,” he grins. You were at your most entertaining when you became combative. Dazai much prefers you like this rather than subservient. “You took today off.”
Correcting the boss of the Port Mafia was risky, but, “You gave me today off. A month ago, after that mission, you told me to pick a day to relax.”
That’s… true. It was a strenuous mission, and while Dazai made sure to keep you out of the fray, he thought a gift like that would make you feel touched and indebted to him. Annoyingly, he’d nearly forgotten, since Dazai had planned on reneging at the last minute to trap you with him. For your work ethtic, of course.
A pout graces his lips, unhappy at your disappearance from his side. And that he had no rebuttal to it. “Well, I still need you. I made dinner reservations for two accidentally, and the restaurant is rather strict. You need to come with. The meal will be comped, of course."
“Sir, I don’t— “
“Don’t want your job?” His eyes narrow, pout vanishing immediately. You had to go along with it. “I’m sure you don’t mean that, over something as silly as a nice dinner.”
“...Of course, sir.” You tug on the strings of your hoodie, wanting to emphasize that you aren't exactly dressed for something 'nice.' "What time am I expected?"
Dazai has to stop himself from swooning. How adorable. Well, it’s not you that’s adorable, of course. It’s the juxtaposition of such n oversized hoodie on you that he finds adorable, not you yourself. Definitely. “We can leave now, actually. Get changed, please. I wouldn't say there's a dress code, but it's not a 'hoodie' establishment."
Rather than lashing out at him for the snide comment, you choose to bite your tongue and head into your bedroom.
Exhausted was too light a word to describe how you felt. Donned in a 'nice' outfit that was rather uncomfortable, you stood outside in the cold air and harsh breeze as Dazai suggested to the host to let him in. This bastard didn't have reservations for one, much less two.
After the manager is called over and recognizes Dazai, you're quickly ushered in beside him. Dazai pulls out a seat at a secluded table in the back, gesturing for you to sit. "Come."
Without a second thought, you sit in the very seat he'd pulled out, stifling a yawn as he pushes you in. You’re Dazai's best employee - he must keep you close at all times. Which is why he takes advantage of your position as his subordinate to orders you waste your day off in a fancy restaurant across from him. If you want time off of work, you’ll have to spend it with him - just so he can keep an eye on you, of course.
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Cloudy With a Chance of Murder.
Part I: leaving the crime scene.
Part II: the phone call.
Part III: a visit to the morgue.
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She knew he was staring, even without so much as a glance in his direction. She kept her focus on the road as she gripped the steering wheel tight.
"What?"
"You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle despite the shortness in hers.
"I told you: I'm fine."
"No, you told me you spoke to Mandy's parents," he corrected her. "You never said that you were fine."
"Well, I am."
"You'd tell me if you weren't, right?"
She eased her foot on the brake as she came up to a red light. Once the car had come to a stop, she turned her attention to her partner and forced a smile. "Of course."
But she can see it on his face: he's unsure whether or not to believe her. She understood why. It's not like she's always been the most straight-forward person when it comes to talking about how she feels. But she was trying to be better at that, for him.
She relaxed her grip on the steering wheel, rested her wrist on the console between them and turned her palm upward: an invitation.
He placed his hand in hers, laced their fingers together and gave her a gentle, reassuring squeeze. She knew - with this simple act - that he was willing to drop it, that he wouldn't push her if she didn't want to talk about it. But she did, for him.
She sighed, bought herself a second to gather her thoughts before she spoke.
"I just- it's been nice, you know? Those few weeks of not being the one to turn people's lives completely upside down."
She tried to protect him from this part of the job. Whenever she could, she would handle this part by herself, distracting him with busy-work, coffee runs or anything else she could think of at the time. Even when he does happen to be with her while she breaks the news to a family, he's never the one to drop such a catastrophic bomb, never the one to have to comfort the grieving family. She carries that weight and she does her damnedest to make sure he doesn't see just how heavy it is. Because it was her job, not his.
But everything was different now; letting him see her vulnerabilities seemed so much... easier.
Not that it seemed to be something that was entirely within her control, given the single tear that slid ever so slowly down her cheek.
The light turned green and slipped her hand free from his, used her sleeve to wipe the stray droplet from her face before returning her focus to their journey down town.
"Kate-"
She laughed a watery chuckle. "Sorry. This tends to happen after I'm off the job for a while," she explained. "I just need a day to adjust, to-"
"Put the armour back on?"
She looked over at him and smiled. She loved how he just... understood. He never judged, never questioned why she kept coming back if she found it so difficult, because he just got it.
"Yeah. Something like that."
They continued their drive to the ME's building down town in comfortable silence. She pulled into the first vacant spot they found, killed the engine and got out of the car; all without a single word. She stepped quickly, rounding the car to stand by the passenger's side as Castle was pulling himself from his seat.
"Everything okay?" he asked as he unexpectedly came face-to-face with her.
He shut the car door behind him but kept his eyes on hers.
"You gonna keep asking me that?"
"Maybe."
Kate smiled and took another step closer; closer than they'd dared to be all morning. And for good reason, apparently. Instantly - as if drawn by some magnetic force - Rick reached up and brushed her hair back from her face, the heat of his touch lingering just a little too long against her skin.
She leant forward and gave him a short, sweet kiss. "Thank you," she whispered.
But short and sweet had never sufficed; and now wasn't any different.
Rick leant forward, claimed her lips with his own. His hands dropped to her waist and he pulled her against him; she draped her arms over his shoulders, crossed her wrists behind his head as she melted against his body. He shifted, turned them so that Beckett was backed against the car and he pressed his body against hers; just the tiniest amount of friction that sent a jolt of electricity through her body and drew a low moan from her.
They heard the screech of car tyres as someone hooned into the parking garage and they pulled away from one another. Rick stepped back, creating an acceptable amount of distance between them and, mere seconds later, a silver Mercedes passed them.
"That was-"
"Dangerous," Rick finished her sentence for her. His statement, though not what she was going to say, wasn't entirely inaccurate. But the tone of his voice wasn't indicative of someone who had learned his lesson.
He sounded thrilled... enticed by the risk of it all.
"Too close," she corrected him.
Rick nodded, but the lust was still dark in his eyes and she knew that that was the real danger: allowing the thrill of danger to seduce them.
Them, because she had felt it too.
The slam of a car door pulled her from her thoughts. They watched as a middle aged man dressed in a nice suit got out of the car and began his hurried stride toward the building.
"Morning," he greeted as he passed them.
"Morning," they returned with a polite smile and nod of their heads.
Once the man passed, Kate began to walk in the same direction. Castle fell into place by her side and they walked in silence until they reached the morgue.
Lanie had been expecting their arrival and was waiting by the entrance for them. She looked at Kate with elevator eyes, scanning the detective's appearance from top to bottom before moving back to look her in the eye. Her mouth curved into a smirk, which kicked Kate's mind into overdrive.
But before Kate could ask her friend what was so amusing, Lanie got straight to business.
"It wasn't a mugging," she announced, then turned and strutted into the autopsy room.
The pair followed, curiosity piqued.
"How can you tell?" Beckett asked as she stepped up to the slab, opposite Lanie.
"Blood splatter on her blouse indicates the shirt was ripped after the gunshot."
"And what about the bruising?" asked Castle.
"Post mortem."
Kate let her frustration out in a sigh. "To make it look like a mugging."
She turned to say something to Castle but the thought slipped straight from her mind when she noticed the slightly tussled hair near his ear. It was only the slightest bit displaced - most likely from when she combed her fingers through it just minutes earlier - so the chances of anyone else noticing it were miniscule. Either way, she didn't want to be the one to draw attention to it so she turned away.
"Someone's trying to cover their tracks," Lanie said. Suddenly, she perked up. "Speaking of which; I figured out what's different."
Beckett froze, fighting the urge the look at Castle to make sure his face wasn't giving anything away.
Lanie pointed a gloved finger at her friend. "You're having sex," she declared before that accusing finger moved in Castle's direction, then back to Beckett.
Beckett's heart began to pound furiously. How the fuck had she figured it out so fast?
Had Lanie somehow witnessed their momentary lapse in judgement in the garage? Or was it just that evident to everyone around them that something had shifted in hers and Castle's relationship?
She swallowed down her fear. "E-excuse me?"
"Oh, don't try to deny it!" Lanie exclaimed. Her eyes darted to Castle's then back to Beckett's. "There's a glow. I know that glow."
And Beckett just couldn't fight it anymore; she turned to Castle and braced herself for the truth to be written all over his face. Surprisingly, he wasn't totally giving them away. He looked surprised, sure, but it definitely could have passed as a Beckett has sex? kind of surprised. She turned her attention back to Lanie, trying to calm the chaos of her mind long enough to make a decision: was she going to lie to her best friend or was she going to crumble and come clean?
"So, who's the guy?" Lanie asked.
Beckett's confused made itself known in the deep furrow of her brow. Two seconds ago Lanie was wagging that accusing finger in Castle's direction and Beckett had been so sure they were caught out.
"Yeah Beckett," Castle played along. She turned her attention back to him. "Who's the guy?"
She smiled because she recognised that tone: thinly veiled jealousy. He was actually gonna sell this.
"Nobody that you would know."
"Are you sure?" Castle pushed. Because Castle would push. "I know a lot of guys."
"I'm sure."
She turned back to Lanie who was looking at the pair with a smirk on her face and the confidence of having sold it faded. Beckett couldn't quite tell if her friends smirk said look at Castle, getting all jealous or if it so loudly screamed look at these two idiots thinking they can fool me.
"Anything else?" she asked, desperately needing to hurry this along.
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all-pacas · 3 days
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stupid chase 13 self indulgent sibling shit:
13 is the first one to jokingly refer to chase as her brother. except she calls him her younger brother. chase is like super touched but also hi i'm older than you "sure you are buddy". it's like an ironic "haha we're not actually siblings" joke except secretly no. it's not ironic
13 also has made at least a couple "let's go find dad" jokes about house. she finds it funny and deeply annoying that house and chase don't seem to Get It. it's very obvious to her that chase's deepest dream is for house to pat his shoulder and say "i'm proud my son" but they deny it
at least once 13 has pat chase's shoulder and gone "i'm proud my son"
at least once though. at least one time. "i killed my older brother." "i abandoned my younger sister to rehab." like they know. all their darkest shit. they don't want to be siblings because they did terrible things to their families. but it's why they are
they text. she's constantly sending him photos from her greek island. the food. the beach. look how hot my girlfriend is. he's in the middle of some gross procedure and gets a text of a beautiful sunset. he sends back a photo of a urine sample or some gross wound
when chase quit at the end of s8 and 13 swung by the next episode to talk with wilson the next day? she was staying with chase while she was in town. they mostly just hung out and watched nature documentaries. when wilson called she was like "oh i just happen to be in new jersey, let's meet up" while wearing sweats and sitting on chase's sofa
chase offers to kill her since house is gone and can't. they come up with a rough timeline and plan and then never discuss it again. until it's time.
at least a few dark "oh, shit, i'm wilson now, aren't i?" jokes from her in return. shit, the new house has a dying best friend too! except with so much less sexual tension!! they joke because they can't bring themselves to be serious about it. she tries to set him up with new friends. big advocate for choreman
idk but i get the feeling they'd watch crappy reality tv together.
they'll sometimes just have the darkest and most serious 1 am conversations about morality and souls and what makes a person good or evil, and then the next time they see one another instead of following up it's just "did you see real housewives last night"
chase has never asked 13 for a favor. like he'll ask her little things or let her pay for lunch, but that's about it. meanwhile she can call him at 2 am and he'll show up no questions asked. maybe kind of grumpy about it tho. kind of pisses her off he never lets her return the favor and sort of shut himself off emotionally after s6. but also it's nice? not the "chase's turn towards cynicism" part, but having a standing no questions asked deal.
when he annoys her enough, 13 DOES call chase "robbie" or worse "bobby" but he's never called her by her first name and probably never will
he didn't tell her he got stabbed and she was mad about it because see above. that was a real bobby day
chase knows she doesn't want to fuck around with more huntington's trials but he reads EVERY article and EVERY journal, just in case some miracle comes up. 13 meanwhile follows fake african country politics with a weird intensity to make sure diabla's forces aren't regaining power. they never discuss either thing with one another.
first time 13 visited Chase MD office she forced him to pose in front of the door and took like 15 photos like it was bobby's first day of school. absolutely humiliating
chase goes to 13 and amy's wedding. he's the only one of the PPTH folks who do (taub sends a card. they forgot to tell foreman.)
once 13 was like "we're both hot and single and should do what hot, single people do!" "....have...sex...?" "no, go to a gay bar" they actually go quite a few times
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orcelito · 1 year
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ok ykno what ive been thinking about how everyone can just automatically tell that shionne and dohalim are renan by just looking at them & it's like. how?? theyre just people ultimately. but maybe it's the way the dress, or MAYBE it's bc shionne has bright pink hair and dohalim has bright red hair. none of the dahnans we know have such bright hair colors (tho alphen's grey hair is kinda weird but he's just weird in general so lol)
literally so used to anime hair colors that it didnt register. but kisara, law, and rinwell all have pretty natural hair colors, So
#speculation nation#alphen is the only dahnan ive met that has an odd hair color. but also grey is technically naturally achievable#i'd believe it if it was caused by stress bc Lol#overall the renan npcs we meet all have pretty normal hair colors too so i wouldnt say All renans have odd hair#but maybe it's just smth that's seen only in renans. even if it's not all renans.#then again i'd believe it if it were the way they were dressed lol. shionne makes it a POINT early on#we go to some ruins SPECIFICALLY so she can get a nice renan dress. bc at that point she cared quite a bit about that#and dohalim looks like nobility so much it is Painful#he has no reason to hide it. full lord regalia no matter where he goes#anyways the only definite difference between the two peoples are the way renans eyes glow when doing magic#surface-level differences and all. the access to different magic is certainly a more intrinsic difference#idk im so engaged with this world by this point lskdjflsdjkf and much of it centers around dohalim ngl#i was rambling endlessly about his motivations and desires re: lordship earlier#how he never wanted to be a lord and probably wouldnt want to be longterm#but he genuinely wants what's best for his people. so he likely would return to his post if they wanted him to#and they sure seem to. no one shuts up about him when i visit his land (tho honestly I Get It lmao)#oughhh thinking about where he started off and where he is now. oh i gots Emotiosn#my mind is just mostly made up of dohalim this past week lol and i think that's very reasonable of me
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writingsbychlo · 5 months
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BUY ME PRESENTS | draco malfoy
summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.
word count; 8928
notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?
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Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction. 
Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat. 
“Good day?”
“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”
“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations. 
A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”
Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.” 
He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there. 
“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.
“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?” 
The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official. 
You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment. 
It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games. 
Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”
Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time. 
Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either. 
“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”
Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”
“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics. 
You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.
“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side. 
“Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised. 
The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you. 
“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”
The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.
The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over. 
You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.
“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”
“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you. 
A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.
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Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.
The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room. 
Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests. 
Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled. 
The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one. 
You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it. 
“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.” 
She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately. 
“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had. 
“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of. 
He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white. 
You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness. 
“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her. 
“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”
Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you. 
Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;
“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”
Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you. 
“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return. 
“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye. 
“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes. 
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”
He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go. 
“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath. 
“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”
He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.
The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you. 
He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.
Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass. 
He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course. 
As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate. 
Men did love a little attention, after all. 
Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.
You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.
“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.
As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”
“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down. 
“And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar. 
“It is, I think.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere. 
When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”
You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”
“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”
“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.
“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”
“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.
“The theatre, then?”
Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”
“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”
“And you, Elliot.”
Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed. 
You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.
You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair. 
You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch. 
As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone. 
To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through. 
He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat. 
His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low. 
Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover. 
Until, Theo spoke up. 
“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.
“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.
“When?”
“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you. 
“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”
“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”
“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”
“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”
Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”
“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”
“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”
“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.
You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth. 
“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”
You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from. 
You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair. 
“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”
Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend. 
“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.
Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after. 
Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know. 
It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”
“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”
Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one. 
“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”
“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”
Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk. 
You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return. 
“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”
“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”
He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”
“That is up to your cousin.”
“Touché.”
You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing. 
He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night. 
As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”
“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”
“He’s not even here to listen!”
“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”
A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. 
“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered. 
Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”
“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”
It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you. 
“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment. 
“Yes, sir. That is correct.”
“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”
You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”
“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.” 
You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them. 
“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”
Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…” 
Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away. 
“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.
Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip. 
You’d spoken to Draco’s parents. 
They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment. 
It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”
“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”
“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”
“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.” 
Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”
The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”
Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps. 
It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”
“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”
His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…
“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”
His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.
“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”
He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”
“No?”
“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”
“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”
“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”
He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.
When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music. 
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye. 
“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”
“Why do you think I wore it?”
His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”
“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together. 
“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”
Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you. 
“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features. 
“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all. 
“‘We’?”
“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news. 
“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”
“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more. 
“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”
“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted. 
“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.
“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”
“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes. 
“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”
You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats. 
Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left. 
“Where are we going, Dray?” 
“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice. 
Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food. 
The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face. 
“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”
“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”
He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile. 
“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”
“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow. 
“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”
His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”
“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”
“You never gave me any other indication!” 
“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”
The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side. 
Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.
“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”
“Yes. I told her days ago.” 
“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”
As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”
“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”
“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”
“Blaise.”
“The bracelet?”
“Theo and the Notts.” 
At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”
“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”
“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”
“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”
“Promise?”
“I promise, Dray.” 
He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”
6K notes · View notes
saetoru · 8 months
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RATE MY PROFESSOR! — GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU.
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kinktober day one — threesomes ; find masterlist here
synopsis. you’re professor gojo’s TA—the catch? you both are romantically involved. what do you do when professor geto happens to accidentally walk in on you giving a blowjob? let him fuck you so he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t tell a soul, of course
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length. 5.1k words (deep, big, heavy sigh)
contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, college au, teacher-student relationships, prof! satoru + suguru, TA! reader, power imbalance, age gaps (reader is early twenties and satoru + suguru are early thirties), semi public sex (at campus in satoru’s office), suguru walking in on you and satoru, threesomes, fingering + blowjobs + hair pulling + throat fucking + cum swallowing (satoru), male masturbation + edging (suguru), unprotected sex + (one) clit slap + creampie (suguru), pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, princess, pretty girl, good girl), not proof read—i am a raw dog kinda gal
notes. i would highly discourage having intimate relations with a professor—but….if your professor looks like gojo or geto, i’m blind babe. i ain’t see nothing. i won’t tell a soul
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“you guys wanna get lunch?” nobara hums, “we’re all here.”
megumi, as always, looks like he’s about to say no—he probably wants to go home as quickly as possible. but that’s not an option because before he can, yuji has already piped up with an enthusiastic, “yeah! i’m down.”
you fiddle your fingers nervously—how are you supposed to get out of this one? you’d just used the excuse of grading assignments for satoru yesterday, and surely you couldn’t possibly have a fresh pile of them to grade again within twenty-four hours, right? it’d be a suspicious excuse, especially one for nobara, who seems to sniff out a lie a little too easily. 
it’s not that you don’t want to hang out with your friends, you love them. really. but you promised you’d be in satoru’s office in fifteen minutes—and you’re not about to keep him waiting, so lunch will have to wait for another time.
you’re still thinking of a usable excuse when she turns to you herself, unimpressed as she dryly says, “i assume you have some midterm review to help him polish or something,” she grumbles, “gojo is so lazy,” she scoffs.
oh—well, that wasn’t very hard. she’s just made it ten times easier for you. nobara has handed you the perfect excuse right in the palm of your hand, and before you can even play it off casually, yuji cuts in and distracts her. bless yuji, you think to yourself.
“hey, professor gojo is a great guy! we all passed with an A! isn’t that great?”
“everyone gets an A in his class, dumbass,” megumi grunts, rolling his eyes, “not getting an A in his class practically means you’re deliberately trying to do poorly.”
on campus, professor gojo is a fan favorite—his rate my professor score is a perfect five stars, and most of the students around campus rave about him. why? because he gives out the letter grade A+ like it’s candy. anyone would love a professor like that. 
he doesn’t ever take attendance or knock your grade down when you skip class, his assignments are always easy to google answers to, and the quizzes have unlimited time and attempts. his tests are straightforward enough that even if you never pay attention, doing the review he uploads is sure to help you cram enough to pass. and what’s better? he always adds a generous curve. not only that, but professor gojo is a friendly guy—he loves talking to his students, loves to ramble away if you stop him in the halls or visit during office hours, loves to listen to your stories and nod along in interest, loves to crack jokes and have a good laugh.
everyone loves professor gojo. and when they leave his class with an A+, they love him even more. 
you had an A+ in physics yourself when you took his class—and you hate physics. you hated it in high school, and you hate it now. but for gojo satoru? you’re almost a physics enthusiast. professor gojo—or rather, satoru, as you call him now, takes a liking to you. a very…strong liking, if you will. 
it all starts on a fateful monday afternoon two semesters ago—it’s one thirty pm, the busiest hour on campus. sometimes, it feels like everyone takes classes at one pm—and as such, getting a table in the university coffee shop is almost impossible. you’re just about to give up and leave with your coffee and sandwich after scanning the place when a wave of a hand catches your attention. 
it’s professor gojo. 
need a seat? he asks you, gesturing at the chair in front of him at his table—it’s a smooth, amused little drawl, the way he talks. it’s almost always a borderline teasing tone, and his voice is low enough that it sounds oddly enticing. you’ve heard enough girls lust over his voice in class to know you’re not the only one who sometimes appreciates the sound. 
you try to insist that you wouldn’t want to intrude, but professor gojo is a nice guy; always looks out for his students and helps them out. so, when he insists that he doesn’t mind you taking the spare seat as he grades a few assignments, well…you decide to sheepishly thank him and sit across from him, finally having somewhere to sit and eat before you’re off to your next class. 
and then it begins.
every now and then, you sit across from your physics professor in the crowded coffee shop on campus as you enjoy a cold brew and a sandwich before your next class. somehow, he always manages to snatch a table, and somehow, you always manage to find him. you like to ramble to him sometimes—how professor nanami is a bit too strict for your liking (he giggles at that), how professor ieri always seems too tired and miserable to be here (he nods and agrees), and how professor geto is nice, but he takes literature pretty seriously (he gives you an amused look at that as he hums.)
somewhere along the line, he asks you to be his TA for the following semester—and somewhere further along that line…well, perhaps the one-on-one talks as you sit together at a table for two felt a little too close to something of a romantic setting because you and professor gojo kiss in his office while he calls you in to explain your TA responsibilities. 
that was never supposed to happen. 
you don’t even remember who leaned in first, or whose arms were the first to wrap around the other, or who tugged who closer, but you both kiss. and then some. and then it happens again, and again, and again—and, well…you’re professor gojo’s, or better yet, satoru’s best kept secret.
you go to his office to grade assignments for him—in between if he steals a few kisses, who’s to know? sometimes, he’s a bit riskier, likes to spread his legs and free his cock and have your hand stroke him as he eyes the door. it’s always a nice view to watch him unbutton a few buttons of his shirt and bite back moans. other days, he likes to slip his hand past your waistband and toy with your clit—the amused glint in his eyes, as he tells you not to get distracted and keep grading when you gasp always, earns him a sharp glare.
it’s like that for the semester, just you and him in his little office where you can break the rules in the safety of secrecy. 
that is, until now. 
admittedly, this isn’t the best time to be doing this—professor geto likes to have lunch with satoru around this time, and you know you’re cutting it close…but he just looks so pretty like this, head fallen back against his chair as his lips part with a soft gasp.
you’re on your knees, looking up as you suck on the tip of his stiff cock before taking him down your throat, bobbing your head up and down. it’s a rewarding position to be in—to have the hot, loved, campus favorite professor that everyone thirsts over falling apart in your mouth, hands gripping the arms of his chair as he pants harshly above you.
he looks pretty—always does, always looks good enough that you can feel the ache between your legs get worse. the messy strands of his hair stick to his damp forehead, and his lips are always so pink and plump when he bites them like that, and who can forget the way his eyes turn just a shade darker of that bright blue?
you hum around him, making him groan as he mumbles, “f-fuck, you’re so good, sweetheart—always know how to make me feel good.”
you press a kiss to his tip, smearing the bead of pre cum leaking from his slit along your lips before licking them clean—he closes his eyes and groans at that. you can’t help but giggle, can’t help but press more kisses along his hardened length until you’re at the base of his cock. 
“pretty little lips,” he hums, reaching to rub his thumb over your bottom lip as you open your mouth, letting him slip into your mouth—he hums approvingly as your tongue swirls around the digit, sucking slowly. “‘s like you were made for taking me, huh?”
“‘course i was,” you grin cheekily—and then you’re back to sucking on his cock, tongue rubbing over that thick vein you love to trace and reaching a hand to play with his balls. he moans—it’s low but still whiny enough that you can’t help but feel so proud at how needy he is, how desperately he always wants you. no matter the risk.
except the risk is probably not the wisest one to test today because just as satoru lets out a particularly loud whine when you swallow around him, the door clicks open and…
oh. 
oh no. 
this…this isn’t good—this is terrible, in fact. this is the worst possible outcome to the worst possible thing you’ve done, and now you’re screwed. entirely destroyed, in fact—the both of you. here goes your admission and your progress on your degree, and here goes satoru’s entire career and everything he’s worked for, and all because you couldn’t help but give him a blowjob in the middle of his office with the door unlocked where his best friend can walk right in and get a full view.
and worse? this best friend of his happens to be another professor on campus who you happen to have had just last semester. you’re sure he knows you; you’re his former student, after all, and he must certainly know his best friend’s TA. 
professor geto blinks—his eyes go back and forth between you and satoru and the still-hard cock between his legs that’s glistening with your spit as you sit on your knees. yeah—there’s no explaining this one.
“well,” he says blankly, “i guess that’s on me for not knocking, huh?”
“suguru,” satoru grumbles, “some of us are busy y’know? can’t you come back later?”
you turn to satoru in shock—how can he be so normal about this? how can he just casually act like this is some random hook-up his friend walked in on instead of a (very illegal and very unprofessional) teacher-student relationship that could get the two of you in more trouble than you can comprehend? 
but professor geto doesn’t seem even the slightest bit concerned. there’s no look of disgust or panic or even anger at you and satoru for your unprofessional habits. there’s no alarm at the distasteful activities you’re doing in the middle of a university office where anyone could potentially walk in on. and then there’s satoru—he doesn’t even bother making himself decent or pulling you from your knees.
no, instead, he looks at professor geto in slight irritation as the latter stands there. 
“so this is what you’re always busy doing in your office, huh?” professor geto hums, chuckling in amusement, “i have to say, you at least have good taste, satoru. she’s excellent in and outside the classroom, it seems.”
“yeah, she’s a keeper,” satoru hums, cupping your cheek as he grins down at you, “now if you don’t mind, suguru, we’re in the middle of something.”
“and what do you plan on doing if this gets around?” professor geto raises a brow, unimpressed.
you look at him in panic at that—surely…surely he can’t mean that he would be the one to spread this around, right? surely he wouldn’t throw his best friend under the bus, correct? if not for you, then for satoru’s sake, he’d never let this information find another soul. otherwise…otherwise you’ll both lose everything. all the hard work and progress you’ve made, all of satoru’s experience and years building his career, and all the future opportunities you had coming up—all of it will be for nothing if professor geto says one word. 
people wouldn’t have a hard time believing it either, you think. sometimes your own friends like to poke fun at you themselves. 
you’re always with him, are you sure you’re not in love with the guy at this point? nobara always likes to snort at you.
why does professor gojo even keep you around? you’re too lazy—you must give good head, megumi tends to tease as he raises a brow with amused eyes.
with how often you’re in professor gojo’s room, you might as well have a crush on him, yuji sometimes giggles.
surely, with how often you’re seen in the coffee shop with him as he grades papers and how often he likes to tease you when you show up to his classroom sometimes to drop off papers, students would certainly take the rumors and spread them like wildfire if professor geto says even the littlest thing. 
you look at him with wobbly lips as you whisper, “please don’t tell anyone,” you sniffle, “i…maybe there’s something we can do…to keep you from…”
the two of them look at you in shock—they stare at you for a moment, stare at the crystalline tears welling up in your eyes, at the soft little tremor in your lips, at the sweet little sniffles you try to hide. then, as if in sync, their eyes meet each other’s before finding you once more.
“oh, that’s precious,” professor geto chuckles, “she really is a keeper, satoru—she even looks pretty when she cries. i’m almost jealous.”
“don’t look for too long, suguru,” satoru grumbles—and then, “listen, sweetheart, you don’t have to worry. suguru’s not gonna—”
“well, if there is something you’d wanna do for me,” professor geto cuts satoru off, his voice a low drawl as he walks closer, hand cupping your jaw as he tilts your face up, “i suppose i can keep my mouth shut.”
“anything,” you nod quickly.
you’re so eager to please, he thinks—so perfect and sweet and pliant, that suguru thinks he might actually really be jealous that somehow, it was satoru who caught your attention. how did this all start? when did it start? how long has it been going on? do you have real feelings for each other? or is it just a pleasurable business kind of deal? do you meet up outside of campus? does he take you to the next town over to freely walk around with you on dates? do you kiss sweetly sometimes instead of with hunger? have you ever spent a night in his bed? do you sleep better beside each other, wrapped in the other’s arms?
there are so many, many questions suguru wants to ask. the potential answers to all of them make him a bit more unhappy than he cares to admit. something in him wonders how things might’ve had to play out in order to land you in his office instead—but…but if you’re offering anything, why not take advantage of the offer?
“anything?” he asks, looking at you amused, “you know, princess, anything is a dangerous offer. what if i asked to join? what if i asked to fuck you here in this office so your secret is safe?”
you blink up at him for a moment at his words—they’re a bit shocking. professor geto…doesn’t think this is wrong? clearly, he doesn’t if he’s willing to take part. but that doesn’t sound half bad. not even in the slightest. 
they’re a popular pair: professor gojo and geto are all people on campus ever talk about. those two professors who happen to be best friends. they’re not much older than you either—can’t be past their early thirties, even if they don’t look a day over twenty. 
did you know they used to go to college together? i heard they’ve known each other since high school. apparently, they applied to work here together and only took the offer up once the other agreed. it’s all people ever gossip about when they mention them both. it’s always about how close they are, how deep their bond is, how there is never one without the other. and then, of course, there are those…the less than appropriate comments you occasionally hear the other girls make. i bet professor gojo gives the best head—he’s always sucking on some lollipop. i’d let professor geto do nasty things to me while i read his literature books out loud to him—he’s too fine. i can take both of them—and i don’t mean their classes. 
it’s…not exactly a bad offer that he gives you, you think to yourself. it’s an enticing one, in fact. you get to have them both—professor geto isn’t any less attractive than satoru and…and well, you’d really like for him to keep this a secret, so it’s a bit of a win-win. plus, you’re sure he wouldn’t risk spilling such delicate information when it would put his career at risk, too—it seems like the perfect leverage.
you look at your old literature professor with a nod as you murmur, “then i’d say you should make sure to lock the door this time—we don’t want to make the same mistake twice, do we?”
his eyes sparkle in amusement at that, a low chuckle falling from his pretty lips as he shakes his head at you—you’re even better than he expected. satoru is so, so lucky he’s got to have you to himself all this time. it’s criminally unfair. 
“hey,” satoru pouts from behind, still sitting in his chair and still painfully hard as his throbbing cock sits between his legs unattended. “you both are forgetting about me,” he whines.
professor geto—or rather, suguru, you suppose, only looks at his best friend in amusement. “now, satoru—what have i always told you about sharing? here—” he walks over and pulls satoru to stand before taking the seat himself and patting his thigh as he looks at you with a sly grin, “why don’t i get to feel your pussy, and satoru can have your mouth like before? then we both get what we want.”
“bossy as ever, suguru,” satoru chuckles, but there’s something in his eyes—something darker and more excited than you’ve ever seen them.
“get her ready for me,” suguru hums, fingers making quick work to unbuckle his belt and free his hardened cock. you can’t help but stare, can’t help but watch as he wraps his fist around his hardened length and runs his thumb through his slit with a low moan. 
he’s not as long, but he’s thicker than satoru—you can easily tell he won’t be any easier to take. you watch attentively as he traces the thick vein along the side of his cock with this thumb as he strokes upward, rolling around his tip before stroking down and squeezing at the base. you watch his lips tug between his teeth, a soft moan ripping from his throat as he touches himself in the way he likes best.
you’ll remember what he likes, you think—you can sense this might not be your first and last opportunity to see suguru like this. and next time? well, next time, it’ll be your hand touching his cock and pulling those pretty little sighs and groans from him instead of his own.
“eyes on me, sweetheart,” satoru hums, pulling you to stand before gently guiding your back to fall against his desk, fingers looping into your waistband and pulling your pants down your legs. you can hear the sharp inhale suguru takes as soon as the wetness of your folds is on display, as soon as your puffy clit and dripping pussy are there for him to see so clearly. “watch carefully, suguru,” satoru grins, “she’s pretty when she cums.”
“i can imagine,” suguru muses, “alright then. show me.”
instantly, satoru’s fingers are intruding into your cunt—it’s familiar, the sensation of his digits bullying past your folds and curling against your sweet spot. he’s already knuckles deep, already pressing the tips of his fingers into the back of your walls as far as they’ll go, spreading you open and scissoring you apart. it feels good—it always does, and when his palm rolls across your clit? you can’t help but let out a whiny moan that earns a groan from suguru as he fists his cock tighter. 
“god, she even sounds so pretty,” he pants, watching as satoru’s fingers slip in and out of your pretty cunt, at the way it all but sucks them in itself as it flutters around him. everything about you is perfect—but your face is by far suguru’s favorite. the way it twists with pleasure as satoru slams his fingers against your spot mercilessly with every thrust of his wrist has him fighting off his orgasm—his fist slowing down to a teasing edge as he grunts at the way he lets his pleasure die down for the sake of really feeling you. 
“that feel good, angel?” satoru asks, grinning down at you. 
you nod quickly, head thrown back against the wooden desk as you stutter, “y-yes…s-so good, toru.”
“toru?” suguru asks, “do i get a nickname too? make sure you come up with one for me, yeah?”
it’s almost like you don’t hear him, too busy on the way satoru drags along your walls with every time his fingers sink into you. “toru, toru—s-slow down, ‘m g-gonna…”
“slow down?” satoru gasps—his pace only quickens at that as he gives you a mocking pout, “you want me to slow down, sweetheart? you never ask me to slow down, it’s always faster, toru. faster, please! from you. you don’t wanna give suguru the wrong idea, do you? he’ll think i haven’t taught you how to take it like a good girl.”
suguru snorts at that, slowly dragging his hand up and down his sensitive cock—it’s red at the tip, flushed, and leaky enough that it’s easy to tell he’s aching for release.
“hurry up, satoru,” he grits, biting his lip as he fights back another orgasm and stills his hand, keeping it tightened around the base of his length, “we haven’t got all day.”
“can’t rush making my pretty girl cum, suguru,” satoru gasps, “she deserves the best. look at this pussy—” he gives pulls his fingers out to give your clit attention, rubbing your slick over the sensitive bud as you gasp, writhing over his desk, “—see how perfect it is? you gotta treat it like that too.”
as if from his words alone, as if you get off on the way satoru praises your cunt to his best friend who watches you get stuffed to the brim with his fingers, you whimper before cumming—your pussy fluttering around nothing, walls spasming and dripping with slick as he toys with your clit. 
“toru—toru, ‘m cumming…cumming—oh,” you babble, thighs quivering as his thumb doesn’t let up from your abused clit, watching as your hand reaches for his wrist weakly to halt his movements. “‘s too much,” you sniffle.
“too much?” suguru gasps, “how will you take me, then, princess? don’t tell me you’re tapping out already?”
“nah,” satoru grins, chuckling, “she’s got plenty left in her. she can take it.” with that, he hooks an arm under your waist and helps you sit up, leaning down to kiss you softly as you let out a muffled whine against his lips. “you’re ready for suguru, aren’t you, baby? prepped you nice and good to take him, didn’t i?”
you nod, mumbling a soft, “uh huh,” in agreement.
“that’s my good girl,” he coos, grinning as he presses a wet kiss to your forehead. 
suguru, patient as ever with a stiff, aching cock standing between his muscled thighs, holds an arm out for you as he murmurs, “c’mere then, princess. can’t back out of our deal yet, can you?” you walk over to him on wobbly legs, letting him pull you to sit on his lap, back flush against his chest as his hands guide your hips. he taps the head of his cock against your clit as he lines your entrance up with his length before pulling you to sit, slowly inching you down on him bit by bit as he gasps at the way you squeeze around him instantly. “h-holy—fuck, such a tight fuckin’ pussy. ‘s like i can barely even move,” he grunts, chin resting on your shoulder as he pants.
satoru walks over, staring down at you as you’re seated on suguru’s lap before cupping your cheek and rubbing over the soft skin with his thumb. “you can take both of us, right sweetheart? you’re just too good not to, aren’t ya?”
you nod eagerly, letting the tip of his cock tap against your lip, tongue moving to lick across his slit and make him groan. he’s painfully hard—cock swollen and neglected for so long, you almost forgot that he’s been waiting for your mouth to take him again after being interrupted. your jaw slacks as you let him thrust his hips and fuck his length into you, tip hitting the back of your throat as you choke around him. 
“fuck,” satoru hisses lowly, biting his lip as his hands grab your hair and keep you in place while he ruts into your mouth, “fuck, baby. never get tired of how good this mouth feels—takes me so fuckin’ well. jus’ love feelin’ me down your throat, huh?”
you can’t do anything but let out a muffled cry, feeling the fat tip of suguru’s cock nudge against your sweet spot—it’s just as effortless: the way he finds your most sensitive part. just as effortless as satoru. maybe that’s why they get along so well, maybe they’re connected in that way. 
“oh, princess,” suguru moans, panting against your ear as he lets out a breathy moan, “fuck, that’s good—so, good. can hardly move with the way you’re squeezing me. greedy little pussy, isn’t it?”
you whine as you feel his arm wrap around you, finger rolling over your puffy clit as his hips snap upwards and fuck into you, cock dragging along your walls and stretching you enough that you can hardly think straight. he’s big—it feels like he’s almost splitting you open with his girth as his hips roll up and sink him deeper into your cunt.
“she’s…she’s perfect,” suguru pants, “keepin’ this all to yourself? how selfish of you, satoru.”
“she’s mine,” satoru whines, cock pushing past your lips as he speaks, the way your tongue glides along his vein making his cheeks flush as his eyes flutter shut and his mouth falls open with a breathless moan. “she’s too good to share with you. you d-don’t deserve her.”
“yeah? and you do?” suguru chuckles—it sounds more like a labored pant, his breath harsh as he groans into your neck when you flutter particularly tightly around him, forehead falling to dig into your shoulder, “she’s suckin’ me in. think she wants me. don’t you, pretty girl? you want me to cum inside you, right? make you mine too?”
“y-yes,” you mewl, popping off satoru’s length as you whimper when suguru chuckles and gives your clit a light slap, back arching against him as he pushes his cock past your folds again, “yes, wan’ it. wan’ it so, so bad—need it.”
“see,” he raises a brow towards satoru, “knew it.”
you can see the way satoru’s cock twitches at that—at the way you fall apart on suguru’s lap as the latter digs his head into your shoulder as he breathes harshly, chasing his release desperately as he ruts into your slick pussy. you can see the way satoru’s tip is flushed a harsh red, leaking with pre cum as he aches to spill cum down your throat, so you let him push past your lips once more—but not before giving his tip a delicate kiss. 
“she’s my girl,” satoru grunts, “mine, mine, mine—knows how to make me cum. kn-knows how to take me so good, right baby?”
and as if to answer him, you suck around his tip, swallowing around his length and making him groan as his hips stutter and cum paints your throat white as it fills your mouth. you try to swallow every drop, try to take what he gives you as he fucks into you desperately and chases the pleasure of his high. thick, hot ropes of cum spill from the corners of your lips as satoru fucks his load into you, panting as his hips sloppily roll and work himself through his orgasm.
“that’s right, sweetheart,” he groans lowly, “take it, yeah? god—fuck, feels so good, baby. ‘m c-cumming.”
you make a sound between a choked whine and sharp gasp as suguru’s thumb rubs harshly against your swollen clit, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he groans, hips just as sloppy as satoru’s in his pace that it tells you he’s close too—and then he twitches into your pussy, cock burying into you once, twice, three more times before he groans too.
“gonna cum, princess? ‘cause ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum—fill you up and make you mine. you want that right? want me to—f-fuck, fuck ‘m close, so close,” he cuts himself off with a gasp, letting out a needy whine into your skin before spilling into you. you can feel hot, thick ropes of cum paint your walls as his tip nudges back into you and pushes his load as deep as he can.
and you fall apart too, coming undone a second time as your walls hug around him tightly, head falling back as you mewl a high pitched, “s-sugu—c-can’t…’s too much—”
“you can take it, pretty,” he hums, “know you can. you’re too precious not to, right?”
it’s messy—it’s downright filthy, in fact, the way his cum and your slick mix and drip along your inner thighs, making a mess on satoru’s chair. you pant as your pussy pulses around him before coming down from your high, falling slack in his arms against his chest as he chuckles and presses a kiss to your jaw. 
“fuck,” he breathes, “you’re something else. who’d have thought my favorite little student from a previous semester could do all that?”
“isn’t she a dime?” satoru chuckles proudly, reaching for the corner of your mouth with his thumb, collecting a stray drop of cum and pushing it back past your lips and onto your tongue, humming approvingly as you swallow. “precious, isn’t she?”
“of course,” suguru nods, with a grin, leaning to peck your shoulder, “so, tell me. which professor would you take again?”
satoru purses his lips as he glares. “this isn’t rate my professor, suguru. and don’t get used to thi—”
“well,” you hum, interrupting as you bat your lashes sweetly at both of them, “why i can’t just take both of you again?”
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guess who’s posting their october first kinktober fic literally 40 mins before it’s october second ?? if it’s not procrastinated, it’s not reached its full potential
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harrysbelovedd · 10 days
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espresso [rafe cameron]
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“oh he looks so cute, wrapped round my finger..” ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
pairing - rafe cameron x reader
summary - rafe doesn’t do relationships, cuddling, kisses, and sweetness. strictly no commitment hookups had sufficed. that was until he met the girl at the coffee shop.
warnings - nothing rlly, just super sweet whipped rafe
Rafe was heartless. Cold. Rough. Any situation he had with girls was nothing more than that—a situation, a fling. He had absolutely zero desire to be in anything committed.
To his friends, his sisters, his family, and his hookups—he was a mean, heartless monster. (Only tolerating Wheezie, of course.)
And he liked it that way.
No one expected anything from him, no one bored him with their feelings. It made his life so much easier not being overly concerned about the well-being of others.
But today, when Wheezie dragged Rafe to some fancy coffee shop she’s been wanting to visit, his philosophy flew out the window.
“Yeah, I’ll have the caramel latte with cold foam,” the young girl recites her order. “Oh! And a chocolate croissant.”
“Yeah, for sure!” I smile at her, typing her order into the till. “Anything for you?” I turn my attention to the man next to her, presumably a father or brother—probably brother, he seems younger.
He doesn’t say anything, his gaze remaining intent on my features, like my words flew right past his ears.
“Um.. sir? Did you want anything?”
The girl next him sighs, shoving his shoulder. “Stop staring at her you creep.”
His head shakes, like he was snapped out of a trance. He comes to the situation at hand, pinching the bridge of his nose “I’m sorry, that was probably creepy, my bad,” he chuckles awkwardly. The girl next to him makes a face at him, surprised by his actions.
“It’s okay,” I smile. “I zone out a lot too,” I let out a small giggle, trying to make him feel more comfortable.
He grins, “Yeah, um, I’ll take a macchiato, thanks.”
“Great, and could I get a name for the order?”
“Whe—“
“Rafe,” he interjects. I grin, writing his name down.
He pays for the drinks, smiling at me before going to find a table with the girl.
-
“What was that?” Wheezie questions loudly.
“Shut it, Wheeze. I was zoned out, is all.”
She blows out a puff of air, “Yeah right, me and that barista could practically see the drool falling out of your mouth the second you laid eyes on—“
I kick Wheezie’s leg under the table when that same pretty barista comes by with our drinks.
“One caramel latte with cold foam and a chocolate croissant,” She smiles sweetly, placing the pastry and sugary drink in front of Wheezie. “And one macchiato for Rafe.”
When my name rolls off her tongue, I swear I see stars. She says it with a sweetness I’ve never heard before. Her voice so soft and kind. As she’s placing the drink in front of me, all I can think about it how much I wish I knew her name.
So, I incite a moment for her to tell me. “Thank you…” I pause, trailing off.
“Oh, Y/n!” She says, surprise I asked such a question.
Y/n. So fitting. It’s perfect.
“That’s a pretty name,” for a pretty girl, I wish to say.
She grins, her cheeks flushing a shy pink. “Thanks, if you guys need anything else, let me know!” She informs before wandering off.
Once she’s out of ear shot, Wheezie begins. “Might as well go kiss her over the coffee beans.”
“Oh, shut up, Wheeze.”
one year later
I walk through the doors of Tannyhill like I have so many times before, it’s become a second home.
“Hi, sweetie.” Rose says from the living room where she sips on a glass of wine, reading a book.
“Hi, Rose! Do you know where—“
“He’s in the gym with Topper and Kelce. Beware I hear a lot of groaning and shouting. Too much testosterone for their own good.” She jokes.
I chuckle, shaking my head as I head to the side of the house near the garage where the gym is. The blasting of rap music grows louder the closer I get along with the clanking of weights, and occasional grunts.
I open the door and see Topper and Kelce doing pull ups while Rafe bench presses. Rafe can’t see me due to obviously needing to stay focused.
“Hey, Y/n,” Topper greets, jumping down from the pull up bar.
Before I could ever reply with a greeting, Rafe hooks up the bench press, sitting up quickly. “Y/n?” He smiles, his smile faltering when he turns back toward his friends. “Aye, Kelce, turn that shit down.”
He gets up, walking toward me and pushing me out the door and back into the hallway. He closes the door behind him and his hands find their spot on my waist, a grin taking home on his lips. “Hey baby.”
I smile, my cheeks flushing pink. “Hi.”
“What’re you doing here?” He asks, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles into my skin that’s exposed near the hemline of my shirt.
My hands run up his chest, manicured nails running along the collar of his shirt. “Nothin’… just missed you is all.”
“Yeah?” He questions, that sly smirk on his lips. “You missed me, baby?”
“Yeah, come hang out with me? We can just stay upstairs or we can go to the beach maybe? Or go get lunch, hm?” I coo, my hands now running along his jaw, studying his every feature.
“Whatever you wanna do, my love. Just wanna spend time with you.” He leans in, his lips kissing their favorite spots along my jaw and neck. He pauses for a moment when he hears childish giggles from the other side of the door.
Topper and Kelce walk out, teasing grins on their faces. “I missed you baby,” Topper mocks. “I missed you more, come kiss me and spend time with me, please Y/n. Let me worship the ground you—“
Kelce was cut off by a rough punch to his shoulder. “Ow! Shit, Rafe. Not my fault you’re whipped.”
Topper and Kelce chuckle, walking past us toward the front door. “Try that shit again and you won’t be able to walk out of here!” Rafe threatens.
“Oh cmon, Rafe. They just know you’re wrapped around my finger,” I say loud enough for them to hear.
“Ain’t that the motherfuckin’ truth!” Topper shouts before shutting the front door behind him.
Rafe buries his head in my shoulder, “Baby, you’re just egging them on.”
I chuckle, “Sorry, you’re just so cute all wrapped around my finger.”
He looks back in my eyes, a smile on his lips. “I’m whipped and I’m proud.”
I chuckle, slapping his chest playfully as I drag him upstairs.
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joelsgu4tar · 25 days
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JOEL MILLER FIC RECS
⇾ 18+ minors DNI, read at your own risk! ⇽
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an appreciation to all my favourite writers out there you deserve all the love <3
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Series
— Something To Fight For by @auteurdelabre | After a disastrous blind date you decide to stay away from the miserable Joel Miller forever...
— I Know Who You Are by @punkshort | A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long-term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.
— The One You Need by @loliwrites | When you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at arm’s length, your neighbour Joel finds his way into your life.
— By The Grit Of Sandpaper by @penvisions | An offhand comment from you inspires Joel to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed...
— I Wanna Be Your Lover by @shellshocklove | Miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor, you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?
— If The Door Wasn't Shut by @heartpascal | months of travelling with Joel and Ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.
— Stay In Bed by @psychedelic-ink | After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance.
— That's A Real Fucking Legacy by @wyn-n-tonic | When Tommy disappears in search of a better life with a promise to come back for you, his years of absence and the grief it leaves behind drives you and his brother closer together until the man you're sharing a bed and starting a family with is Joel Miller and not the one you always thought it would be.
One-Shots
— No Time To Die by @davosmymaster | The main difficulty of being Joel’s closest friend is not falling in love with him, but you still do. Those feelings are buried until you join him on a mission to trade supplies with Bill and Frank. With your life now hanging by a thread, Joel is determined to get you to safety, but the clock is ticking faster than he can run.
— White Lies by @poeticpascal | Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.
— Saying Thanks by @vivwritescrappythings | Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesn’t even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joel’s decided he doesn’t like it.
— Soft & Sweet by @cavillscurls | You share your first kiss with the last man you ever expected: your older, grouchy, overly protective patrol partner, Joel Miller.
— Who We Are by @gracieheartspedro | Being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in eventually.
— Warm Me Up by @tightjeansjavi | While on patrol, you and Joel find yourselves caught in a treacherous snowstorm.
— Love In the Time Of Cordyceps by @sameheart-sameblood | When the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. Joel Miller makes that rule hard to stick to.
— Puppy Love by @absurdthirst | You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.
— Light The Flame by @yeollie-plz | Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?
— Best I Ever Had by @endlessthxxghts | Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.
— Make A Move On Me by @freelancearsonist | You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodelling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.
— Fire Walk by @motherofagony | A chance encounter at a motel has you crossing paths with a stranger in a blue t-shirt.
— Cry Baby by @psychedelic-ink | bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in Jackson. As the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of Joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.
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ellemj · 2 months
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Off-Limits: Ch. 1
Bucky Barnes x Reader: Mafia AU
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Summary: Bucky Barnes wants the one thing he can't have, and he'll go to great lengths to get what he wants. The tension between the two of you makes it impossible for him to think rationally.
Warnings: profanity, possessive!Bucky, mentions of firearms, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: I've been thinking about writing something like this for a few weeks but I'm typically not an AU kinda girl so stick with me. Bucky is intentionally out of character in this but hopefully a few of you will like him this way. Also, THANK YOU ILY for the little bullets and foliage art for my timeskips @littlemiss-yeehaw. She is an angel, an inspiration, I love her.
            Off-limits. Nothing has ever pissed James Bucky Barnes off more than the phrase off-limits. The fact that it’s you who’s been labeled off-limits only adds to the fiery rage that’s steadily growing inside of him.
            Bucky leans back in his desk chair, running his flesh hand through his hair while he goes over his options in his mind. He could just take you. He could give a few orders and have you in front of him by nightfall, though he isn’t quite sure how he feels about starting a war simply because he’s thinking with his cock rather than his head. He could have a sit-down meeting with the man he detests most in this world, the man who currently has total control over your future. He could make an offer, bargain for the right to have you to himself. No, that sounds too polite.
            The sound of a fist rapping against the heavy wooden door of his office breaks Bucky out of his thoughts.
            “You told me to come back at eight, so here I am. What did you decide?” Sam asks, shutting the door behind him after entering. He’s itching to do something, anything. His life has been hell ever since Bucky first laid eyes on you. It’s as if the entire fucking operation dropped to the bottom of the totem pole while you rose to the top. It would be great if he could bash a few heads in, fire a few rounds, and deliver you to his boss tonight so he could fuck away whatever this newfound obsession is and get back to being the cunning, ruthless mob boss he’s meant to be.
            “We’re paying my least favorite lowlife a visit.”
            Just like that, James Bucky Barnes and his entourage of over-eager gunmen are on their way to your house, to see your father.
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            As you tiptoe down the mahogany stairs of your childhood home, your bare feet just barely gracing each step, you forget for a moment that you’re not a little girl anymore. You can hear the distant sound of low voices and tense discussion coming from your father’s home office near the bottom of the staircase. When you were younger, those sounds would’ve had the hair on the back of your neck standing up and you would’ve been hightailing it right back to your bedroom. You’re not so timid anymore. The man already holds your entire life in the palm of his hand, molding and shaping it however he sees fit. What’s the point in trying to abide by his rules when it’ll never get you anything other than exactly what he wants for you? So, you continue your daring trip to the kitchen, with the hem of your oversized t-shirt skimming along the skin beneath the curve of your ass and your heart set on a late-night snack.
            Bucky sits across from your father’s desk, his jaw aching due to the number of times he’s caught himself clenching his teeth together during the past hour of deliberations. As he lifts his hand to massage the sore muscle along the side of his face, he hears the sound of a wooden floorboard creaking somewhere outside of the room that he currently sits in. He shifts his gaze around the room, noting the way his own men, your father, and your father’s men all seem oblivious to the miniscule noise that came from somewhere in the house.
            “It doesn’t matter how long we sit here and go through this. My daughter is not getting married, she isn’t on the table.” Your father’s tone, though resolved and sure, doesn’t match the look in his eye. It’s a look that lets Bucky know you’re not actually off the table, he just hasn’t made the right offer yet. The words echo in his head for a moment: on the table.
Fuck. If he sits here for another second, picturing you physically on top of a damn table, he might make an unreasonable offer just to turn that fantasy into a reality. It’s what prompts Bucky to rise to his feet suddenly, reaching into the pocket of his black suit pants to retrieve his phone and act as if he’s going to make a call, maybe a call to check on things within his business to see what else he can offer the piece of shit who sits in front of him. In reality, he’s making up an excuse to get the hell out of that stuffy office and clear his mind just enough to close the deal.
“Let me make a call.” Bucky says evenly, shooting your father a steely look. Your father leans back in his desk chair, relaxing for the first time since his rival showed up on your doorstep an hour ago. When Sam and Torres make moves to follow Bucky out of the office, Bucky holds up a hand, signaling for them to stop. “Stay, I won’t be long.”
Leaving his suit jacket draped over the back of the armchair he had been sitting in, Bucky steps out of the office and guides the door to shut as quietly as possible. It’s fucked up, what he’s doing here. He knows that good and well. Offering large sums of money, offering obscene amounts of quality product, offering a damn near eternal truce in the streets…all to have a woman he barely knows. As his eyes adjust to the darkness of his enemy’s home, he casts a glance up the staircase by the office door, wondering if you’re awake up there. Are you sitting in your posh bedroom without a single worry plaguing your pretty little mind? Are you sleeping soundly as he barters with your father for the right to have you all to himself? Or are you thinking about him too, about the handful of times you’ve run into each other over the past two months?
Shaking his head to clear his mind of all thoughts of you, Bucky takes a few steps to his left and turns the corner at the bottom of the stairs, entering the kitchen soundlessly. That’s where he finds you, hidden behind the open refrigerator door as you rummage around for a snack. He sees your bare legs first, peeking out beneath the half-door. He clenches his teeth and tightens his grip on the phone in his right hand simultaneously. It fucking hurts just to look at you.
“Your father lets you walk around like that with guests in the house?” He seethes. Startled, you shove the refrigerator door shut just before dropping the container of blueberries in your hand. As the plastic container goes crashing to the kitchen floor, blueberries scatter around your feet. James. When your eyes land on him, you can see the look of disdain all over his face. He despises you, you’re sure of it. Never one to take shit from a man, you narrow your eyes at him before crouching down and positioning yourself on your knees. Bucky watches intently as you pick up the blueberries one by one, placing them back into the plastic container.
“I don’t think my father considers you a guest.” You whisper the insult just loud enough for him to hear it, but not loud enough for your voice to carry over to your father’s office. Bucky’s squeezing his phone so tightly in his hand that he’s already thinking about having to send someone out to pick up a new one for him tomorrow, because surely, he’s shattering the screen of it. It isn’t your cute little attempt at a comeback that’s irking him. It’s the fact that you’re still on your knees, with your t-shirt riding up your thighs and your eyes lifting to meet his gaze as if you have no idea what effect you’re having on him. He’s sure you aren’t that naïve, which means you’re doing this shit on purpose.
“Get up.” He says through his teeth. You narrow your eyes at him before cocking your head to the side and picking up another fallen berry. It’s a test. He wants to see if you’ll listen to him. The way Bucky sees it, if you listen to his command and stand up, he’ll feel a bit better about going to all of this trouble to have you. It would tell him that although you’re defiant and like to talk back, you still know how to do what you’re told. But if you don’t listen? He can think of a few enjoyable ways to break you of that bad habit.
“What would my father do if he knew you were in here telling me what to do?” The question leaves your lips with the intention of being threatening, but Bucky’s hard stare and cold expression melds into a look of mild amusement. You pick up one of the last few remaining blueberries and drop it into the plastic container, keeping your gaze steady on the cold-blooded man a few feet in front of you. You watch with masked curiosity as he tucks his phone into the pocket of his suit pants and begins rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up shirt. He notices the way your eyes fixate on his black and gold arm, the way you almost seem fascinated by it. When he uses his metal hand to roll up the sleeve on his right arm, your focus shifts to the tattoos covering the majority of his flesh forearm. It isn’t your eyes that tell Bucky you like what you see. It’s the way you subtly clench your thighs together as you drop another berry into the container. You don’t shy away, you don’t move even an inch as he begins walking toward you. Even when he comes to a stop in front of you, close enough that the toes of his dress shoes are nearly touching your knees, you stay where you are. You look up at him through your lashes without tilting your head upward, refusing to move any more than just your eyes for a man that you know would take a mile if you gave him an inch.
“What would your father do if he knew you were on your knees in front of me?” He lifts his flesh hand toward your face, expecting you to flinch away or refuse his touch, but you don’t even blink as he lets his fingertips trace the curve of your jaw. He drags his fingers downward, until he’s in the right spot to curl them beneath your chin and force you to tilt your head up for him. Again, you don’t resist him. “Get out of here before someone else sees you like this.”
It isn’t at all what Bucky wanted to say to you, not even close. But it was what needed to be said. If anyone else had walked out of your father’s office and stolen the privilege of seeing you looking so pretty on your knees like that, he would’ve shot them dead right there in the kitchen. Whether it was one of your father’s men or his own, he wouldn’t have given a shit. So, Bucky lets his hand fall away from your chin, but he doesn’t step away. You reach down for the container of blueberries and grasp it in your right hand as you move to stand, keeping your eyes locked on Bucky’s the entire time. You want to shove him, to tell him he has no right to tell you what to do, especially not in your father’s home. At the same time, you wouldn’t be opposed to tracing the tattoos on his flesh forearm with your lips. What is it about this man that makes your rational mind war with the rest of your body?
            When you step around Bucky a second later, setting the container of blueberries on the island in the center of the kitchen before heading toward the stairs, he has to fight the urge to reach out and grab you. Not now, not yet. You’re not his yet. When you round the corner of the kitchen and begin tiptoeing up to your room, Bucky makes his way to the bottom of the stairs and watches you silently as you take each step. You don’t look back as you make it to the landing and turn right, disappearing behind a wall. When he hears the faint sound of your bedroom door closing, he reaches into the back pocket of his suit pants and retrieves a small silver cylinder. It sits heavy in his hand as he pulls his gun from the back waistband of his pants. As Bucky screws the silencer onto the barrel of his gun, a distant voice in the back of his mind is screaming at him to be rational about this. Don’t do it. Don’t go to such insane lengths for a woman you don’t even know. Don’t spill blood on these nice mahogany floors.
            When he enters the office a few seconds later, he fires two shots. The first into the shoulder of your father’s righthand man, and the second into the thigh of the other hired gun. His face is emotionless as he steps over their bloody, writhing bodies and presses the cool metal of the silencer against your father’s temple. Bucky only has to speak one sentence to let the man know that he isn’t to be fucked with.
            “We make a deal tonight, or I make your daughter an orphan.”
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maiko-san · 3 months
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Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 4 )
<<< Part 3
Relationship : Fluff
Warning : None (?)
Plot : Every time you enter the Playcare you feel eyes watching you everywhere you go. You feel stressed and start to become sick.
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Recently, you feel uneasy and something tells you that you were being watched. Every time you go to work, you feel eyes on you.
It scares you.
Nobody likes the feel of being watched.
It made you stressed out.
You tried to get rid of these feelings by distracting yourself with work. You tried to keep yourself busy to a point you overwork yourself with all those papers or taking care of the Smiling Critters.
To a point it made your body ache and have a migraine from overthinking.
Not only that, Catnap has been acting quite differently too and his visit has become less and less each day. Not only that—
The lovely and sweet cat is avoiding you!
You finally asked the feline, what's the matter but only received—
"It's nothing...."
Nothing....nothing? Obviously there's something wrong!
Multiple questions began to swarm into your brain like a raging tsunami, did you do something wrong? It must be you, right? Yes, no? Maybe?
You had a slight feeling it has something to do with the higher ups.....
Did they tell Catnap to...avoid you? It has to be it, right? Why they do such a thing?
The stress starts to eat you the more you think about it.
Dogday and the other smiling critters saw that you've been stressed lately to a point it started to affect your health. It made them worried, especially Dogday. As a leader, it was his responsibility to care for everyone's wellbeing, including you.
"Angel, You look nervous lately. Are you feeling alright?"
"Oh, hey. Dogday....."
Dogday knew something was wrong. He comes closer to you and touches your shoulder.
You slightly flinch under his touch which made the canine even more worried.
"Angel, please tell me. Is something bothering you?"
"......"
"As a leader, it's my duty to help everyone in need. I won't forgive myself if anything happens to you"
"....."
Dogday holds your hands gently and holds them in his large ones.
You take a deep breath before telling him what's been bothering you, you know it will be useless to ignore the canine. He is stubborn and won't stop until you tell him what's wrong.
"I feel like something bad is going to happen. I don't know when. It might happen now, Sooner? Tomorrow?"
"......"
"I really hate this feeling, Dogday.....I-I can't get rid of it and no matter how many times I tried to forget it by distracting myself with work, I just.....couldn't— Not only that, Catnap has been ignoring me and started to avoid me! I— ugh, m-my head"
You suddenly drop to your knees causing Dogday to panic and he begins to whine worriedly.
Dogday's heart clenched the way you spoke. You feel scared, anxious and nervous. The canine pulls you into an embrace, in hope that it will help you calm down.
"Let's get you to the infirmary..."
Dogday makes sure that the school doctor treats you and gives you medication.
"Mrs. (L/n), I think it would be better if you take a week off from work"
"A week?!"
"Angel, it's for your own good"
"But—"
"No buts, end of conversation!"
The doctor said sternly you were causing you to snap your mouth shut.
The doctor also recommended you to rest someplace quiet and away from the city and your workplace.
It seems you have to go to your foster parents house, they always welcome you with open arms if you need anything.
"Alright...I'll take the day off..."
But still....that gut wrenching feelings still resides in you....
For today, you need to rest in the infirmary room until you are discharged.
Dogday leaves you to rest before proceeding to make his way back to his stage but before that, he wants to find Catnap first.
Dogday knows that Catnap is great at hiding, but it won't stop him since he has his canine sense helping him.
He sniffs around to find the feline until he sees the cat, snoozing around his stage like he always does.
"Catnap. I need to speak to you..."
"...Speak"
"(Y/n) is sick, have you not noticed?"
"...I know..."
"Then why did you help her with your red smoke? To make her sleep and at ease?"
"....."
Catnap looks away from the dog, Catnap knew that you were sick. It hurts him to see you like that.
He wants to help and comfort you, he really does but...
He had received an order he has to obey. His had to choose between two individuals that he adores. One he worships and the other he loves. Yet, he chose the one he worships, the one that saves his life.
Catnap knew that Dogday will help you and he trusts the dog with you in his care.
Other than that, using the red smoke on you will make everything much worse and potentially kill you in your sleep.
He doesn't want that to happen to someone who cares for him and loves him.
"Why?"
"Red smoke use...on stress person...bad could hurt and... possibly.........kill..."
"O-oh..."
Dogday rubs his arm before turning away, but before he leaves.
"Please, pay her a visit, Catnap. If you do, it makes her less worried and she would be happy to see you again"
"Also, She won't come to work for a week...."
Dogday leaves Catnap's stage, leaving Catnap alone to think about his decision to see you.
A/N : Another chapter finished 😁 . Also, a fair warning for all of you. The future chapters will become darker as it progresses since I want to stick to the plot of the game.
Also, the mascots have their own stages to perform for the orphans!
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allfearstofallto · 3 months
Text
Sleeping Like the Dead
Yandere! Diluc x Fem! Reader
Forced marriage AU
Word Count: 2.3k
Synopsis: Diluc craves your body like a drug, but the only time he can get you, is when you're fast asleep
TW: NSFW, Somnophila, Non-Con, Masturbation (.male), Oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of breeding/finishing inside
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The only thing that could seem to wake you was thunder. A loud crash and the windows shaking, followed by howling wind, and you'd be up shivering in fear. You'd lie back down once you realized what the noise that woke you was, and you were out like a light. Deep in slumber, snoring ever so softly.
Even though you were married on paper, you and Diluc never shared a marital bed. The marriage was never consummated and the most he'd ever seen of your body was your legs and maybe even a sliver of your stomach in the summer. Other than that, you stayed dressed head to toe like a nun.
He knew it was his fault that you were like this. Being forced into marriage with him, you didn't even want to tempt his urges. You were told time and time again that nothing would happen, not while you didn't want it, but he was failing to believe that himself.
It was when he saw you one night, after you'd just gotten out of the bath. Normally, he stayed in his room at nightfall, but now, he was particularly thirsty. Whether it was good luck or the gods actually blessing him for once, he saw you go into your room and close the door behind you.
Did he buy you those nightgowns? If he did, he definitely didn't remember doing so. But the red haired man did buy you whatever you wanted, no questions asked. So maybe you'd managed to slip an order in for them without him noticing. And archons how he wished he'd noticed.
The swell of your breasts, the curve of your ass, plush thighs and skin still steaming from your bath. You didn't notice him standing in front of the door to his room, but he noticed you. A brief glance was all it took, light work for anyone else who'd been married for as long as you two had, but it was the first time he's seen so much of you, and he felt his pants tighten at the sight.
He stormed back into his room while the memory was still fresh, not even bothering to make it to the bed. The door slammed shut behind him, he pressed his back against it and dropped his pants to his ankles.
It felt like electricity all over his body as he stroked his cock, eyes rolling back, tongue out his mouth. Diluc wasn't a prude, he masturbated when he deemed it necessary, which was when he got erections that were particularly stubborn and annoying, but this was the first time in his life that it'd ever felt so good.
It only took a few pumps and suddenly he was moaning into his hands, hips twitching as his cock shot ropes of cum onto his carpeted floor. He panted watching himself make this mess, but his mind shifted onto how you could clean it up. And his length refused to go soft. He fucked his fist for the rest of the night.
Diluc often heard stories of how hard it was to wake you up. That's when he learned how truly a heavy sleeper you were.
“The lady slept through breakfast again today,” a maid would say in a whisper. They thought he couldn't hear them, but as long as they weren't saying anything rude about you, he acted oblivious to it.
“She fell back asleep after I woke her up three times!”
“I called for her for a full five minutes, and she barely stirred,”
Temptation is a hell of a drug. Satisfaction is even more addicting. Maybe that's why he decided to visit your room one night. Hours after you'd left your bath and when he was sure you were asleep, he eased your door open and stepped inside. His heart was racing, afraid that you wouldn't be asleep, but instead sitting on the edge of your bed, waiting to confront him.
But you weren't. You were just like how he'd thought you’d be. Asleep in bed, lying on your stomach with your arms wrapped around a pillow and pulling it into a tight embrace. Your blanket was thrown haphazardly over your body, you obviously kicked a lot in your sleep, making it shuffle around.
Exhaling the quietest deep breath he could muster, he pulled that blanket to the side. Sure enough, like the maids said, you didn't stir, and much to his pleasure, you were wearing another one of those revealing nightgowns. With one leg slightly up, he could get a good glimpse of your round ass and your panties that seemed to be slipping between your moist lips.
He sucked in air through his teeth, taking in every inch of your body. Every curve, every soft piece of skin. He'd mentally promised himself this would be a one time thing. It felt awful invading your privacy like this, but his hormones were getting the better of him.
His cock was released from his pants and he began pumping it furiously. Biting his lip to hold back the moans once again, he watched the way your chest rose and fell as you slept. It only took a little bit and he was cumming, quicker than he ever had in his entire life and more intensely than he'd ever felt.
The rational part of his mind told him to leave no messes, so he made sure to cover the leaking tip of his cock with his hand to not spill his seed everywhere. Still, he couldn't help himself. He dipped a finger in his own cum, then pressed it against your slightly open mouth, wanting you to at least taste him a little.
The sight of you suckling that cum off his finger, lips pursed and wet with drool, the sight had him hard again already, but he decided against tempting fate. He'd finish himself off in his room again. This was a one time thing after all.
Was what he'd told himself, but he found himself in front of your door again, going to your room almost every night. It was like an addiction, standing in your room next to your sleeping form and fucking his cock into his hand while looking at you. And he grew bolder as the nights went on.
Moving your panties to the side to finally get a full view of that wet cunt, rubbing the tip of his cock against your lips to get you to suckle on it like before, he even managed to slip a finger inside your entrance, getting to feel your warm walls for the first time. The way you coated his fingers nearly made him grunt and he thrusted it in and out of you, watching your face contort in your sleep, little moans and mewls dropping from your lips.
Diluc imagined that it was his cock instead of his finger getting to fuck your pussy, that it was his cock making your eyebrows knit together and your fingers twitch. He could only imagine though, his other hand fisting his cock at the same pace as his finger.
He'd even gotten so bold as to start licking your cunt. His tongue poking out of his mouth, he'd tongue at your clit and watch you squirm in your sleep. Your taste was intoxicating, the juices your tight hole would secrete tasted better than what celestia would feel like, and while lapping up your folds between your legs, his dick would twitch and he'd cum inside his pants, completely untouched.
All good things must come to an end. A sad, but truthful statement. And Diluc wanted this to end. He really did. Each day he'd say that this would be the last one, that he wouldn't do this to you again, that it was becoming too risky, but sure enough he was back at your door the next day. He'd spend the whole night finding new ways to pleasure himself with your sleeping body.
All good things come to an end. Maybe he should've been thinking that when he arrived at your door on the night of a harsh thunderstorm. If his mind wasn't clouded by lust, if all his blood wasn't flowing to his lower regions, then maybe he would've remembered how particularly scared of thunderstorms you were. If his face wasn't buried between your legs again, then maybe he would've remembered the maids saying the only time you woke up easily, is when there was a storm and heavy wind outside. If he wasn't pumping his cock while licking at your pussy, going practically drunk from your taste, maybe he would've noticed that you'd begun to stir more than usual, more than out of a sleepy, unintentional pleasure.
The last thing Diluc was expecting was to look up and meet your gaze. With his lips still suctioned around your clit, your face was a mixture of disgust and mostly fear. Eyes wide and filled with tears, you opened your mouth, maybe to scream, maybe to yell at him, he didn't know. He was on top of you before you could let out a peep, one of his hands covering your mouth. After a bit of a struggle, he managed to use the other hand to hold both your wrists above your head.
“I'm- I'm sorry!” He gasped as you thrashed beneath him, but you were no match for his strength and all you were doing was wearing yourself out, “I-i swear! I don't know what came over me!”
But something has been coming over him for weeks, months even. If you knew how long he'd been doing this, you'd look at him in even more horror. Your eyes. So big and filled with tears, it only made his heart thump against his chest harder, but what else was he to do?
He laid on top of you, hand covering your mouth for what felt like hours, dick still twitching and conveniently between your folds. This was the worst time for him to be hard, not while you were awake. Not while you were scared of him to the point of crying, but he couldn't help it. It was you. You did this to him.
“I'm so so sorry,” he muttered as he angled his hips, the tip of his cock finally at your entrance. He didn't think your eyes could open any wider, but sure enough, they did when he forced every inch of himself inside you, bottoming out without stopping while pleading for your forgiveness. Your yelp, the noise you made as you were made to take him, was muffled by his palm, body squirming even more as you tried to get away.
He always said his first time with you would be gentle. It would be loving as passionate. He would take things slow and kiss every inch of you, to make sure you were ready for him. But the way you felt around him, the way you clenched around his length, it felt like his hips had a mind of their own as they started a rough, brutal pace. Slapping against yours so hard, even the headboard of the bed had begun to hit the wall.
“Fuck! Ahh! Fuck fuck! I'm so sorry! Hnng- please…ah! Please! I'm sorry,” he whined, but he didn't slow down for a second. You were so warm inside. So wet. This was made for him, he was sure of it, “Please, you- you hah- have to forgive me.”
You could thrash and squirm and cry as much as you wanted to, but Diluc had had his taste and he wouldn't be satisfied with any less anymore. He kept fucking into you, pounding you so hard, rutting his hips into you like an animal in heat.
You saw the way his eyelids flutter, you felt the way his hips stuttered, his pace grew sloppy, his grip loosened, drool fell from his lips, his moans grew breathier. You saw it all and you knew what was about to happen.
“Fuck,” he gasped between thrusts, eyes rolled back. He forced his dick as he could inside you, balls deep and held it there, feeling the way your silken walls contracted around it, “I'm gonna cum.”
There was no way to tell him no with his hand over your lips, so you were made to watch and feel in horror as he grew even more aggressive with his fucking. There were no thoughts behind his eyes, just pleasure, just lust and the primal urge to finish.
“Inside. Hah- aanh. Cumming inside, fuck!” He affirmed your fears through his filthy moans. His dick twitching inside you made your heart sink. You could feel it. The way his cum was spitting out of his length and hitting your walls. It felt neverending, like he'd stored so much waiting for this moment, some of it even spilling back out of your entrance and onto his balls.
Reality must've hit him after he came, because he was off of you in an instant. His length softened and his face filled with dread. Cum leaked onto your bedsheets, but despite the fact that he was no longer muffling you with his hands, you couldn't scream. You couldn't even think for a second as you realized what happened.
He looked just as scared as you did, but why? What gave him the right? Why did he deserve to be scared when he was the one who did it?
“I fucking hate you,” you spoke through strangled sobs and you watched his world crumble.
Those words felt like you were slicing his heart out and stabbing it over and over again. They made him tear up as well. But somehow, the sight of you, disheveled, with his seed leaking from your hole, somehow that made his dick twitch back to life. Even your crying face, while not as appealing as you sleeping peacefully, was gorgeous. Arousing even.
His cock twitched back to life as he looked upon you, half undressed and practically ready for him. He began a slow crawl towards you again, his urges wanting to take over once more. You already hated him. What was the harm in doing more?
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awearywritersworld · 10 months
Text
tell me you don't want me
gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.
however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.
for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.
he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.
"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.
he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."
and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."
after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.
you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.
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gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).
"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"
he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."
"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.
he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."
after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.
you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.
"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.
"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."
"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."
you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.
"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.
"not yet."
"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"
"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"
he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"
you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."
"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"
"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"
"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"
his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.
once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.
"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.
you nod eagerly. "yes."
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the two of you have never fought before.
well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.
that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.
"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.
the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"
after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.
rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.
why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?
"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"
because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.
he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.
he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.
"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."
"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."
your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.
"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.
his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.
he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"
you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.
one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.
his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.
"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."
and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.
his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.
"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.
your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.
his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."
your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."
"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.
you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.
he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.
his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.
gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."
taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice
4K notes · View notes
personasintro · 7 months
Text
Mutual Help | #57
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.2k+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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When you truly think about it, you've probably let Jungkook in in more ways than one. Being in his presence is tempting. He is a temptation that messes up with your head. It is one of the reasons why you think the so-called break has been a smart decision. But he's not all that. He is still the same Jungkook whose presence is comforting. It's times like these when you're reminded of how much you love your friends. 
Catching up with him and talking about how the day has been for each of you, isn't something new. There's not that much that has changed. You only stopped fucking each others brains out. Though, you hate how much you already miss it. And you shouldn't feel like this. But you also don't want to overthink anything, or keep your mind busy with something that's probably better not to think about. 
Your dreams have been wild, the only time where you actually go back to how things were. Not all of them though. Maybe two or three since the camping trip and your decision. 
Despite the inner struggles, Jungkook is your comfort person. Oddly enough, even though he's in the center of your thoughts, he brings you the biggest peace and comfort. 
Tonight wasn't planned.
Luckily, you're always prepared when it comes to unplanned visits. All three of them love to surprise you (not that you mind), so your cupboard is never without at least one bottle of wine. Not being a much of a drinker yourself on casual evenings, you still suggest having a glass or two. 
Jungkook agrees. After reminding you of him having to drive back home, you suggest him staying over. He agrees again. Maybe him staying overnight might not be the best for your hormones, you are forced to believe in yourself. Isn't this the whole purpose of this? To go back to just being friends, the ones you've been two years ago?
When you think about those times, you think of happiness. Surrounded by the greatest friends you could've ever asked for. 
“Mind opening it?” 
Jungkook looks up, finding you standing in your kitchen with a bottle of wine in your hand, a wine opener in the other. Standing up, he goes to help you without any words but there's a slight amused smirk on his lips when you hand him everything. 
You share a look, not forgetting to playfully roll your eyes at him. 
“So many bottles of wine and still can't open any of them.” he teases you, hinting at all the wine one of them had to open.
“Listen,” you muse, “You guys always whine about wanting to drink wine.”
“That's not true,” he laughs, knowing that he's bluffing. “We would drink anything.” he adds, which holds some truth to it for sure. 
Feigning irritation, you motion for him to hurry. You watch him attentively, leaning yourself against a kitchen counter while he puts those muscles to work. He cuts the foil below the lower lip of the bottle, showing you how easy it is with a teasing tilt to his brow. Trying to hold back your laugh, you purse your lips instead before he inserts the screw in the center of the cork. He rotates it a few times, you're not sure because his eyes are on you.
“You're so cocky.” you comment, his brows shooting up as he lets out an audible laugh. 
“What? I am not,” he argues, laughing. “You're just too amusing to look at.”
He levers cork, at least he tries to because it seems to be stuck. It's going harder than usual, which you can tell from all the times you had the opportunity to see a similar scene. His brows furrow and lips press into a thin line. 
You cackle, “Maybe you got too cocky, buddy.”
“Shut up.” he mutters, his muscles bulging as a pop sound resounds, signaling the cork is levered successfully. 
Maybe not so much, because in a seconds the wine spills around Jungkook, staining his shirt as well. You gasp, a hand over your mouth as you two share a look. Bursting out laughing, you shake your head. 
“What did I say, too cocky.”
“Would you do it better?” he challenges, causing your grin to drop as your eyes narrow.
He puts the bottle down, the wine opener already in your sink as you grab a few kitchen paper towels and dry off all the spilled wine. Luckily, it's just a few droplets and no disaster is made. However, Jungkook's shirt has suffered the most. His entire white shirt is filled with dark red spots, turning purple from the wine's color. 
He sighs in a slight annoyance, easily grabbing the back of his shirt as he effortlessly pulls it over his head. Almost choking on your spit, you try to not react too much as you quickly throw away the wet paper into the bin. But you straighten yourself too quickly, almost bumping into Jungkook's chest as you stare wide-eyed at him. He looks down on you, confused by your almost panic-struck face. 
“What? Already too nervous at the sight of my chest?” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
You purse your lips, trying to play it cool as you chuckle. “You got naked all of a sudden. You just caught me off guard.”
“Is this me naked?” he laughs, “Come on.”
“You know what I meant.” you say through clenched teeth, poking him in his stomach, ignoring how hard it feels. “Besides,” you start, gulping. “Break, remember?” 
“I just took my shirt off,” he laughs, throwing his head back as you're met with his soft dimples and white toothy grin. “You never minded it before.”
“I never fucked you before, did I?” You lean yourself against the counter once again, hand gripping the edge of it tightly. 
Jungkook notices it, his amusement not so hidden behind the little twitch of his lips. Eyes back on you, they dance across your soft and slightly panicked features. “Am I that irresistible?”
“Cocky again?” you shoot right back, not giving him that pleasure of confirming his thoughts and feeding his ego. But he knows. One look at you and he seems to know it all. 
You make a mistake by allowing your eyes to drop, first at his lips and they disobediently trace down his chest, muscles and then the deep V-line. Oh fuck, you want this man . You mentally scream at yourself and throw hands, definitely disappointed in yourself. He's barely doing anything and you're ready to drop down on your knees.
“What's the point of taking a break, if we can't control ourselves?” you ask out loud, not quite sure if those words are only aimed at Jungkook, or you're letting your consciousness speak out loud. 
He watches you for a moment, getting closer and you stumble back, awkwardly getting back to your previous spot as he tries to hold back a laugh. It's not your fault your body is reacting! And your mind panicked. 
“Don't know about you, but I can control myself.” he says.
“You can?” you ponder.
“Mhm,” he nods, “Otherwise I would kiss you by now.”
“Kook!” you exclaim, already panting at those words as he gives you a smile. You don't look long enough to detect what kind.
“I would.” He's not ashamed to admit it. 
You watch him wet his lips. They look inviting. Automatically, your mind replays many times you've got to taste them, actually more than that. Your entire body feels hot, too hot in this small kitchen and you don't know whether to scream or cry.
“Break, remember?” he reminds you, a smirk dancing all over those damn lips and stunning features. He brushes past you, the stained shirt gripped in his hold as he makes his way to your bathroom.
You don't move. You can't.
All you muster to do is gulp all the saliva that have collected in your mouth, touching your hot cheeks with the back of your hand. Letting out a loud exhale, you ignore your strong heartbeat that feels like it's in your neck.
Quickly grabbing the two glasses for you and him, you ignore the sharp ringing sound. Suddenly, you're desperate for the wine – very happy about your friends insisting to have one at your place at all times. 
Perhaps, wine is not what you're desperate for at all.  
This is exactly what you were talking about.
Among all the things that are going against the morality of any friendship, thinking of Jungkook a certain way feels forbidden. And it should be. Maybe it is a little dramatic because it's not like you spend every minute of your day, thirsting over your best friend. But you've caught yourself thinking of him a few times a day. 
Just a few days after you came back from the trip, Maya visited your place for the first time. In fact, she sat on the exact spot where Jungkook is sitting right now. At first, you never felt like bothering her with your stupid shit, especially when she's in the middle of planning her wedding while working every day like a normal human being. 
But you couldn't take it. 
You wanted to take things off your mind, undoubtedly connected to only one person who's closest to you. Now in more ways than two years ago. 
However, you did want to get things off your chest as well and eventually, you've found your way back to him.
“I think I made a bad decision.” you told her when the topic Jungkook started.
Now, Maya might be the person who absolutely understands the craving and temptation he brings inside you, but she has also become your best friend whom you can share your inner battles with. 
“I shouldn't feel this way.”
“First of all, I think it might be a good decision to stop thinking of what should and shouldn't feel right. You're overthinking it.” she told you, ignoring your slightly offended look you sent her way. 
“He's my best friend.” you gritted through your teeth, suddenly growing overwhelmed with those thoughts again.
Deep down, you know you made the right decision. You know the reason why you made it in the first place. Yet, here you are, regretting it.
“Y/N, honey,” Maya's silky and comforting voice caught your attention. She angled her body toward you, leaning her head against her palm. “That feeling of… wanting him is not gonna go away with a snap of fingers.”
You frowned. You frowned for a while while she let you ponder in silence.
“I did it so we could focus on being friends. No intimacy.” you almost whispered, nibbling on your bottom lip. 
“And it's okay still wanting him to bend you over and fuck you.”
“Maya!”
You both laughed, the girly laugher filling your once quiet and sad place.
“It's okay to have regrets. Just go with the flow.”
That's the last thing she advised you before you asked her about the wedding. She advised you something you and Jungkook did – and look where it brought you.
Luckily for your sake, Jungkook has had a shirt in one of your drawers, the result of him staying at your old place a few times. Actually, you're sure there are a few Taehyung's things in one of your drawers as well.
Gulping down your nerves with your wine, you naturally grow warm and relaxed. You barely pay any attention to the movie, focusing on how Jungkook's shoulder and side of his body feels… nice. You tend to get sleepy and cuddly (among other things) when tipsy. You're on your third glass of wine, nowhere near drunk but the exhaustion of today has caught up to you. 
Jungkook's legs are outstretched, resting on your coffee table which you used to scold him for. Even though you often caught yourself doing the very same thing. Is it fair to scold someone for things you do as well?  
“Kook?” 
“Hm?” The soft, yet husky hum resounds from the man beside you, his hands resting on his stomach. 
“What do you think about… the break ?” You cringe at giving it a proper name.
Though, Jungkook understands what you mean. He's quiet for a moment and when you lift your head up, you see his confused expression before his eyes settle down on you.
“Because you never told me what you think.”
Staring at him, you notice his hair is longer than the last time you've seen him. It's not been that long ago, yet you notice the small change. You wonder if he's going to grow it out like last time. 
“Why you asking? Already regretting it, hm?” he teases, nudging you a little as your cheeks heat up. 
“What? No!” It sounds like a proper lie and your throat tightens. 
Whether Jungkook knows it or not, he decides not to tease you any further as his eyes focus on the screen of your television once again. 
“I don't know what I think of it,” he responds after a while. “You told me the reason behind it and I respect it.”
“But do you agree with it?”
“Where is this coming from?” he frowns, though it's soft and confusing, just like your little and sudden integration is. 
“Can you just answer?” you ask in annoyance. 
“Yeah, I agree with it.” He says, “Maybe we got carried away too much.”
He leans forward, causing your head no longer leaning against him as he grabs his glass of wine and takes a few sips of it before getting back to his previous position. This time, you're watching him attentively. Your head leaned against the couch while the movie goes completely ignored. You watch the dark liquid in his glass, swirling it around.
Did you get carried away too much? 
The only thing that changed was the fact you were having sex. Okay . Plus the never-ending thirst and temptation. Jungkook has shown you a different side of sex, something you've never experienced before. Perhaps, that's the reason why it felt so hard to let go. 
And you panicked. With the events that happened lately, you felt like you wanted to go back to when none of this happened. But were your arguments happening because you were having sex? 
“Do you miss it?”
Jungkook's brows lift up as you earn another glance from him. “You asking me if I miss fucking you?”
Your face gets hot all over again. “When you put it like this…”
He chuckles, leaning his head back as he stares at the ceiling. “It's been like a week.” he informs you.
As if you don't know. And what a week it has been! 
You're just curious, blaming it on the wine because your thoughts are set free.
“I hope you know that when I look at you, sex isn't what I see.”
You look at him, ears perked up in attention as your heart flutters. “I know.” you whisper.
“I'm not Taehyung. I can go without sex.” he says, a loud snort rippling through your throat as you cover your mouth. He gives you an amused grin. 
A silence follows and your thoughts work. Actually, they never stopped and now the alcohol inside you just urges them on. 
“I had a sex dream of you.” 
Completely oblivious of Jungkook taking another sip, he chokes on the dark liquid as he straightens himself from his position, gulping before coughing. “Jesus, Y/N.”
You give him an amused grin. “It was hazy. It didn't feel like a proper dream, you know what I mean? I feel like I had five dreams that night.”
It's true. You had a dream with him. It was very brief, much to your disappointment it ended too soon.
“This makes me sound like I'm thinking with my dick only.”
“You have no dick, Y/N.” Jungkook reminds you, snickering. 
“You know what I mean.” you mutter in response. 
Jungkook settles down his wine. He's a little surprised to see you sitting up, watching him attentively as he leans back. “What?”
“Nothing, you look good.”
For the second time tonight, Jungkook almost chokes on his spit. Shaking himself out of the sudden shock, he clears his throat. “Are you flirting with me?”
“No,” you say like it's the clearest thing in the world. “Just saying.”
He frowns, eyeing you suspiciously. As if he can't quite figure out what's going on inside your head. “Are you drunk?”
Jungkook knows you and your limits. You're a little tipsy, so is he but you definitely seem to show it more than he is. 
“No.” 
You sigh, sitting onto your heels before briefly tracing the veins that adore Jungkook's hands and arms. Is it June night or has it suddenly gotten too warm?  
Jungkook catches you eyeing him, trying to hide his subtle smirk. He knows. “Break, remember?” 
“Mhm,” you hum, completely ignoring the little reminder. “What a stupid idea.”
“Okay, I think you're drunk.”
“No, I am not.” you argue, frowning at him as he watches you in complete amusement. “I've thought about it a lot.”
“Is the wine making you horny?” Jungkook questions. 
No, you do.  
Though, you keep your mouth shut. You ignore him. “I know why I made that decision…” you trail off. 
Jungkook raises his brow, waiting for you to continue. But? It's written all over his face.
“I miss you.”
He stares, blinking a few times. “You mean you miss my–”
“No, no. Maybe. I mean, no. You're not just that to me–” you quickly hurry to explain. 
The problem is, you're not sure how to explain whatever it is you want to say. Whatever you think of pours out of your mouth. Usually you have enough time to think of what you're about to say, but right now you're unhinged. Maybe it's the result of your own frustration.
He is patient. 
He's confused as fuck, well probably – at least you think so because his expression is neutral and he simply watches you, not ushering to explain or elaborate more. 
He watches your eyes dance across the space around him, until your eyes settle on him. Then wander over his body until you shamelessly eye his wet lips, tainted by wine a little. He knows that look. He has seen it on many occasions.
“I'm not drunk, I promise.” you suddenly tell him. “I know I make no sense right now but…”
“Tell me what you want,” he tells you simply. “What's going on inside that pretty head?”
And you almost fold immediately, cursing that mouth of his.
“Trust me, it's not that pretty right now.” you mutter.
He laughs, “I can imagine.”
Ignoring what's that supposed to mean , you shift on your spot. “I know I wanted a break, but what if we did this one last time?”
You hate how nervous you suddenly feel. Is it embarrassing to admit such a thing? The last time you had a sex it wasn't under great conditions. It was mind-blowing and definitely did the work, but still. 
Scooting closer to him, he attentively watches you as you lick your lips. “I mean… There's something I would like to try. And I trust you the most.”
Jungkook pulls his feet off the coffee table, setting them down on the floor as you make your way toward him. He lets you. He even helps you to sit down in his lap. Your hands are sprawled across his chest, slowly caressing the thin material as you feel his muscles under it. 
“You're finally gonna let me fuck this ass?” he asks, eyes hooded lazily as he grabs your ass and squeezes the soft flesh. 
Excitement floods your lower region, what could be considered as butterflies swirl inside your stomach. 
“Fuck no,” you breathe out, “You're not going anywhere near my ass.”
Jungkook pouts, cheeks tinted pink from the wine he has drank. “Shame.”
You giggle, “Just one more time.” you tell softly, inching closer as your lips hover over his. 
He breathes out, nose nudging yours. One thing is sure, alcohol sometimes makes both of you horny. You're not the type to go and look for a potential hook-up out there. And neither is Jungkook. At least you think so.
“You agree?”
“You're making this very hard for me, you know that, right?” Jungkook mutters, lips almost touching yours as his hold on your asscheeks tightens. 
“Why's that?” you hum, teasingly playing with his hair until your fingers caress the nape of his neck. 
“You just do,” he says before adding, “First you want a  break and now you're on my lap, giving me those eyes.”
“What eyes?” you play clueless, causing him to chuckle.
“Those fuck me eyes.”
“You said you wanted to kiss me in the kitchen.”
“I did.” he hums, agreeing. 
“You want this too, right?”
He looks up, lazily, eyes clouded with need and lust. 
Again. He is your comfort place. He is comfortable and being in a position like this – you've got no regrets and you want him. Even if it's for the last time for God knows how long. There's no telling if you're ever going back to hooking-up. Usually, that is the plan when there's a word break involved.
Fuck focusing on your friendship for now. What did Maya say? Go with the flow? 
“Yeah, but I don't want you to regret anything.”
“I'm never gonna regret this.”
You're not sure who moves first. Whether it's you or Jungkook, it doesn't matter. Your lips finally meet in a hard kiss, molding together as he deepens it. He kisses you, hard and needy, and you almost cry at that feeling. Fuck, you really did miss this. Before you can think of how wrong this might be, your want for him, you completely ignore it. Any possible morals are out of the window as you gasp into Jungkook's mouth.
He tastes like wine. You both do.
Eventually, you're forced to pull away to catch a breath. Jungkook's crotch underneath you hardens, informing you that he's aroused just as much as you are.
“What you had in mind?” he asks, voice raspy.
Pulling away with a smile, you turn off the television as you stretch your hand toward him. He watches you, slowly taking it as his big hand envelopes yours. He gets to his feet, his lean and hard body touching your side as you grow impatient. You lead him toward your bedroom, closing the door with a loud thud but not before turning off the lights in your living room. The bills are important, right? 
Jungkook stands at the edge of your bed before you swiftly push him, causing him to sit down with a tiny smirk. Ignoring the smug face, you stand between his legs. 
“Should I be worried?” he asks, hands on your hips as he caresses them. Trying not to swoon too much over that simple action, you pry his hands off you.
“Lay down.”
His brows raise momentarily. 
“I see.” he mutters knowingly. 
“Now.” you urge him, glaring at his smirk widening. “Wait.”
He cocks his brow at you.
“Take off the damn shirt.”
He chuckles, reaching behind him and tugging the shirt over his head. Fuck . Does he have to look attractive even while taking his shirt? God. Fucking hell. You did miss him. 
Tossing the shirt on the floor, he sits there watching you up and down as you just stand there and admire his figure. One he worked hard for, yet it paid off entirely.
Fucking wine.
Before you can demand another thing, he gives you one last look of amusement before he scurries further down your mattress. You watch him lay down, making himself comfortable on your pillows as he leans his upper body against the bed frame. What a sight he is. 
He watches you, silently and attentively, the entire time you get to your closet. You slide the door open, rummaging the bottom of it. His eyes are on you. You feel them on your back, watching your every move. While the fire that sits in the pit of your stomach, full of excitement, you pull out the item you've been looking for. 
Just as you slide the closet door closed and turn around to face him, you see his smirk drop as he stares genuinely taken back. Now it's your turn to smirk as you swirl the fluffy pink handcuffs Taehyung kindly gifted you around your point finger.
“Fuck no.”
The response is immediate. 
You get on the bed, taking the handcuffs with you of course. Jungkook watches you with a frown settled on both his face and lips. You get onto his lap, sitting right on top of his hardening cock. 
“Why not?”
“I'm not getting handcuffed.” he states, eyeing you carefully as you place them beside you and start caressing his naked chest. 
It's clear to say you want to be in control. It's debatable though. Whenever Jungkook has shown his dominant side when it came to sex, you were just as much in control. And you love and enjoy every second of him being in charge. This time, you want to be on top and play with him. Or maybe that sounds wrong. You want to give him pleasure, focus on him. To try something new. 
You get closer to Jungkook, kissing his sharp jaw as he clenches it, watching you carefully but not moving just yet. You're sly. He's reminded of you being a little minx. You continue your path down his neck, kissing his skin as his chest moves, breathing slow and steady. His chest is neck, you pepper the skin with soft kisses just as you stop below the hem of his jeans. 
He bites onto his lower lip harshly, meeting your gaze as you look up through your lashes. 
“Can I take them off?” you ask, talking about his jeans.
“You don't have to ask.”
You grin, reaching for the belt as you undo it. His button and zipper are next before Jungkook helps you to take off his jeans. 
“Just wanna make you feel good,” you tell him, eyeing his hardening and evident erection. “Can I make you feel good?”
“Fuck,” he sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “You wanna be in control, huh?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “What? You think I can't do it?”
His lips twitch. “No, no.” he assures you, though you're not sure if he's telling the truth.
Narrowing your eyes at him, you cup his bulge as you get on your knees, leaning down to his crotch. You palm him, his jaw clenched while you're trying not to moan at the feeling of his hard cock. Just the thought of pulling him out and having him inside you makes you wet. 
Giving him one last look, you momentarily stop before you lean down completely and press a kiss to where his tip is, on top of his briefs. 
“Fucking hell,” he gasps. “You're already teasing me.”
“What? No. I'm just taking my time.” you assure him cutely, smirking up at him which tells him otherwise. 
Before he can react, you lift yourself up and carefully straddle him. You reach for the handcuffs, ignoring the way his cock is almost digging into your own crotch. 
“Y/N.” he warns you.
You pout at him. “But why?” you almost whine. “You scared of handcuffs or what?”
“Keep talking and you're gonna be the one handcuffed.” 
“I promise I won't do anything bad.” 
He watches you, frowning and not totally sold on your idea. It definitely has something to do with his male ego. Jungkook is naturally dominant and while he had you on top multiple times, you never handcuffed him or showed this type of dominance. You reach for your oversized shirt, tugging it over your head as you expose your breasts to him. He gulps, watching the way they bounce from the single movement. Your nipples are already perked up, sensitive like always and perhaps, it's from the arousal as well. 
He goes to touch them, mindlessly and automatically. His mouth opens in shock when you slap his hand away, even though you want nothing more than for him to touch you. 
“What–”
“I wanna try this, Kook.” You're playing with him already. You pout and give him the puppy eyes, finger trailing down his abs. “You always asked what I want to try and this is one of them.”
He sighs, hand rubbing his forehead. “Fuck, okay.”
“Really?”
Jungkook almost smiles at how excited you sound. What the hell are you planning? 
In reality, you're just going with the flow. 
You reach for the handcuffs, knowing they're going to work well with your bed frame. You can easily handcuff both of Jungkook's hands. But just as you're about to reach for his hands, he automatically pulls away which causes you to give him a glare. He rolls his eyes, offering you his wrists. You sit on your knees, telling him to lay down completely. He does, with the same frown that makes you giggle under your breath. You take his wrists and bring them up to your bed frame.
Jungkook takes that time to watch you work on the handcuffs from below, feeling them wrapping around his wrists. Wanting to curse, he drifts his attention elsewhere and watches your breasts that are right above him.
You pull back with a successful and triumphal grin, watching him tugs onto them. While he mentally curses Taehyung for giving you such a stupid gift ever, you admire your work. You lean forward again, making sure they hold and Jungkook takes that time enveloping your nipple into his mouth. You gasp and flinch at the sudden feeling, pulling back to find smirking Jungkook.
“Couldn't resist,” he says cheekily.
Despite his current and clearly submissive position, he looks anything like it. He's here, your cheeks hot and heart beating fast. You don't think you'll ever grow tired of him showing his crave for you. You've said it multiple times in your head, but you've never felt wanted as much as you feel with Jungkook. 
“Well, then start resisting.” you say smartly, ignoring the smug face. “Stop looking so cocky, you bastard.” 
But he doesn't stop. He's smirking, looking at you because despite everything, he's in control. Frowning at that, even though you secretly love it, you stand up and get out of your pajama shorts. Revealing that you aren't wearing any underwear, Jungkook watches you hungrily, his head lifted thanks to the pillows under it. He's got a good view of you at the end of your bed. 
You smirk. Men. One look at a naked body and they fold. 
“Come here and sit that pussy on my mouth.”
Or not.
You give him a look, seeing him lazily lay there with his arms above his head. 
“You don't get to make demands.” you inform him, watching that smug face wipe away slowly. 
While you're completely naked, you sit on his calves and lean down to play with the hem of his briefs. 
“This is torture,” he informs you back. “This is exactly why I didn't wanna be in these fucking handcuffs.”
“Already complaining?” you throw back. 
He presses his lips into a tight line, keeping quiet. 
Torturing a little more, you hover him once more with lips dangerously close to his. “That's what I thought.”
He chases your lips but you pull away, giggling when you're met with the usual frown. 
Getting back to your position, you pull down his underwear. His cock springs free, shamelessly slapping against his abdomen before it stands upright. Minus the little facade that you have going on of planning to tease him, you're just as desperate to move further if not more. 
So you wrap your hand around the base of him, wrapping your lips around the tip as you taste his pre-cum. Jungkook sighs in delight, allowing himself to close his eyes in a sudden relief. You lick the underside of him, knowing what you have to do since you've done it multiple times before. This is nothing new, yet it still feels amazing each time. 
The handcuffs make a sound against the wooden frame, just as you let your mouth wrap around him some more, taking him deeper. The clank of them makes you look up, biting back a laugh when you see Jungkook's frustrated face. 
“What were you gonna do?” 
He growls, warning you not to tease him some more. Well, it surely isn't as much fun for him as it is for you, but that doesn't mean he can't enjoy it. It makes sense. This is the first time where Jungkook can't touch you because he's physically unable to. You understand the frustration, you do. With a silent promise, you make it worth it. 
Putting his cock inside your mouth, you hollow your cheeks and deliver him pleasure. Your hand and mouth works on him, and not even hair getting into your face stops you. You know if it weren't for Jungkook's hands not being available at the moment, he would wrap his hand around it, making sure it doesn't get in the way and he can see you.
“Mhm, yeah.” He mutters from above you, enjoying your mouth wrapped around him.
It's not enough, you know it isn't but you're not planning to make him cum. You've barely started and in order for him to enjoy this, there's more you want to do. You don't want to make it lame since this is your first time doing this. You're not going to lie. You like having him this… helpless. You enjoy it, it's a nice change from the usual cockiness.
You eventually pull away, making sure to suck him until the last minute. A trail of saliva connects the tip of his cock and your lips, causing you to wipe it with your thumb. He watches you the entire time with dark eyes, not questioning why you stopped. 
This time, he lets you be in control because you don't look like you're about to deny his orgasm and make him truly suffer. On the opposite, he stares at you attentively as you simply turn around and throw your leg over his chest, facing him with his back. 
“Fuck.” he curses silently from behind you, watching you lean forward to his cock once again. 
However this time, your ass and cunt are right in his face. He sees how wet you are, just that alone makes him smirk because he knows you won't be able to withhold your own pleasure for much longer. After all, it does make his ego bigger knowing you're affected. You're clueless to his inner thoughts, even though you do realize how wet you are, it doesn't even cross your mind, not even when the air hits your core.
It's not until you have Jungkook's cock back in your mouth when you suddenly feel his mouth on you. You don't expect the swipe of his tongue, gathering your juices which makes you flinch in surprise. Throwing him a glance across your shoulder, you're met with the same cockiness you've seen a handful of times. 
“Lemme eat this pussy out.” he almost begs.
“How am I supposed to focus then?” you question, the remains of wine causing you to speak your thoughts right away. 
His lips twitch. You give him no reaction though, letting it up to him as you turn around and arch your back. Jungkook is a menace. He gets what he wants either way, shameless as ever as his mouth envelopes your clit as he sucks. 
You gasp, leaning your forehead against his thigh while your hand stops working on his hard cock. For fuck sake. Frustration is what you feel because for a split second, you realize Jungkook is in control. He eats you out, your body and determination practically begging to be touched. Reminding yourself that this is not supposed to be totally about you, you force your hand to get to work. You're realizing you're not doing a half of a good job at delivering pleasure at the moment.
“Focus,” Jungkook says against your leaking cunt. You can imagine his mouth already being soaked in your juices, dripping it down his chest. Even the single imaginary sight of that makes you want to let out the biggest groan. “I thought you're great at multitasking.” 
Apparently not when it comes to this , you want to bite back but you can't. You simply cannot. It's like the moment Jungkook touches you, you're already gone. 
Somehow, after a moment of realization and determination yet again, you take him into your mouth. 
“That's it,” he groans against you, sending vibrations right to your core. The wet sounds coming from behind you create a sinful proof of your doings, ones you don't mind at all. 
You're close.
You can't focus. 
Not with Jungkook's mouth that skilfully slowly but surely brings you to your end. And then the cocky bastard opens his dirty mouth again, not minding what it's been doing, not even a bit. 
“Wanna spread this cunt. Come on, rub yourself against me.”
Ignoring Jungkook's pleas of wanting to be suffocated by your pussy, you shake yourself out of a familiar daze full of desire and lust. This bastard! 
You pull away, not only to give him one last taste of your mouth, but also taking the approaching orgasm from yourself. Jungkook's quiet until a noise of both surprise and disappointment fills your bedroom. You get off his lap, facing him while you give him a perfect view of your messy appearance. One he's undoubtedly the reason for. 
“Why would you do that?” he whines, tugging onto the handcuffs again. His face grows frustrated at the restraint. 
And then it's gone. What was a frustration just a second ago, you watch his entire face morph into a perfect slowly growing smirk. 
He's satisfied. Satisfied that once again, he proved you just how much control he has over you even with barely any way of touching you. He can't use his hands, he can barely move as they stay handcuffed above him, secured around your bed headframe. But that hasn't stopped him. No. He was cunning enough that at the first chance of being somewhat close to you, he used his mouth. 
“You'll pay for that.” you inform him, trying to keep your features hardening and not to melt when Jungkook's lips stretch into a wide grin. 
“For what?” he scoffs, “For almost making you cum?”
Ignoring the obvious and amused jab at you nearly losing it (when he's the one handcuffed), you nibble on your inner cheek. 
“Come on, free me now. You had your fun.”
Your eye almost twitches at that. 
“Lemme fuck you, you love it from behind, huh?”
Despite his nasty words leaving your stomach fluttering, more than it should, you don't let him get past your walls. You sigh, loud so he can hear it perfectly and maybe make him feel unsure of what's about to come. He stays silent. Watching you as you reach for your nightstand, you feel his eyes appreciating your nudity before they go back to wondering what you're doing. 
You pull out the sex-toy he gifted you, the one you both used two or three times. His brows are pinched together, probably wondering what and who you're going to use it for.
Now, since you've never done this with Jungkook before, you being in full control which has proved to be debatable, you've no idea how he will possibly react. You can only assume. From being in an intimate relationship with Jungkook, you've learned a lot. Apart from the physical side of your own sexual preferences and desires, you've come to notice how Jungkook loves to feel you up. He loves to touch you, explore your body each time like he has never done before.
Even without having many sexual partners before, it's safe to say you've never felt more comfortable than being in Jungkook's hands. Quite literally. The way he touches you… he knows what he's doing. 
Obviously, this is in a way a punishment for him. Actually, now that you think about it, you're not sure if he's doing it purely because you want to, or because of another reason.
So when you place yourself at the end of your bed, making sure you have enough space to lay down, you do exactly that. With one swift movement, you spread your legs apart, giving him a full on view on the thing he couldn't get enough of. 
All cockiness is smeared off his face. And while triumph burns inside you – from this great achievement – a realization hits him.
“No.” he murmurs, watching the way you smirk as you turn on the sex-toy. You bring the fake imitation of cock to your clit, moaning at the vibration as soon as it touches you. 
Bottom lip caught between your teeth, there's a clank resounding in front of you as your lips twitch. “I'm definitely having my fun now.” 
“I was–I was just teasing. Come back here, baby.”
You should've probably taped his mouth shut. The freaking petname really tests your patience and determination. 
“I'm serious.”
But he's ignored by you, at least you act like you can't hear him, enjoying the way he groans in protest. However, you can be just as teasing and you moan loudly, letting the dildo's tip enter you. 
“Y/N,” he growls, “This is not funny.”
“Oh, fuck.” 
You would have laughed if you weren't so focused. The truth is, you're sensitive down there – something that's caused by Jungkook and his always running mouth. As much as you itch to get to him and toss the sex-toy as far as possible, you don't give him that satisfaction. At least, not now. 
“Who's in control now, Jeon?” you hum, opening your eyes clouded by both amusement and lust. 
“Okay, I get it.” he grits through his teeth. “Come here.”
“Say it nicely and maybe I'll consider.”
If looks could kill, you're sure you would be six feet under. But one moment of leaning your head down, moaning out loud, you notice his jaw clenching before he clears his throat.
“Come here,” he says softly.
Cracking your eyes, you grin in achievement as you sit up. You're too impatient, you want to touch him. No scratch that. You want to feel him. You want him inside you. But you're playing your part in this act, making it seem as if you have all the time in the world. 
You turn off the sex-toy, the one he probably mentally curses for buying, and you come closer to him. The expectation and despair on his face makes you want to laugh. He's cute. And freaking hot too. 
His chest heaves, it glistens with a sheer coat of sweat. His cologne and scent that's glued to his skin has filled your bedroom. He watches you carefully, almost as if he expects you to tease him more. But when you sit back down on his thighs, facing him, he sighs in relief. His cock begs for attention and you give him a few pumps, ones that make his eyes flutter shut as he gets what he wants. Partly.
You leave the dildo next to you, planning on using it later as you glance at your nightstand. A look of surprise and then disappointment fills your face, one that Jungkook quickly questions.
“What?”
“I've got no condoms. You have some with you?”
Jungkook snickers, “You mean did I bring condoms with me when you decided to have a break from this ?”
You give him a glare, “I wasn't planning on having sex.”
“Do I look like I was?” he questions with a raise of his brow. 
“Don't you have them with you most of the time?”
“Clearly not,” he rolls his eyes, “What's the issue anyways? I haven't had sex with anyone else.”
You're the one who rolls their eyes now, “You would be really quick if you have. It's been like a week since the trip.”
Deep down, you know Jungkook could've gone anywhere and had sex during this week. If he wanted to.
“And you know it's not about that.” you add.
“Let's end this with a bang. Since you know, we're not supposed to have sex then.”
“Are you mocking me?” you frown. He purses his lips to avoid smirking. 
“What did you say? One last time?”
“You know, keep talking and I'm gonna finish myself in front of you.”
“Not what I had in mind but,” he acts as if he's thinking hard. “It would still be something. I love that cunt.”
Almost choking on your spit, you quickly recover. You need to wipe that smirk off his face. “Or I could just leave you here, handcuffed and naked.”
“You wouldn't!” he exclaims.
“Try me.”
He shakes his head with a disapproving frown. “We don't have that many options. Either raw or go to sleep.”
What are you even talking about? Your coincidence scolds you.
“You're right,” you say, already hovering. “I love this cock.” you tell him cheekily, watching his eyes widen just as you grab him by the base. 
You bring it to your entrance, teasing him a little (and yourself too) but the glare he gives you just prolongs it. He lifts his hips, almost entering you and you gasp, giggling. 
“Who's impatient now?”
“You're testing my patience right now.”
“If I were you, I wouldn't talk too much.” you hum, warning him cutely which causes his features to harden. Oh my god, perhaps you're enjoying this way more than you thought you would! 
Despite everything, you don't want to deprive him and yourself of the pleasure. It's easier to give him one cheeky grin as you guide him to your entrance. His eyes dance across your exposed breasts, looking down at where you're about to connect. That's enough for you to slowly sink down his length, gritting your teeth from the immediate heat that swallows you whole. 
Sex is amazing. But sex with Jungkook has shown you it's more than that.
You would've never thought how addicted you can become to this. Maybe it's a little too dangerous but you don't seem to care. Not at the moment anyway, not when he spreads your folds and stretches your warm and wet walls. Oh god. 
It takes you a moment to fully sink down on him, his hard length settled inside of you as you feel every inch of him. Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. Though, he doesn't usher you to move and gives you space to get used to him. You swear you can feel him in your stomach. 
Starting to roll your hips, your clit brushes against his pubes as his jaw tightens once again. That's not enough for him, but he doesn't voice the annoyance and frustration just yet. He lays his head down properly, dark eyes watching you and the way your body rolls.
You bite your bottom lip, momentarily closing your eyes just to open them and see him staring. “You like that, baby?” you joke, watching his hardening features turn into amused once as you both giggle.
“Baby?”
“You call me that too.”
���Mhm, I do.” he hums as you spread your palms over his chest and lean forward. “You love it.”
“Maybe a little bit too much.” you confess, laughing at your obvious confession.
And then you lift your hips, his cock rubbing against your wall which quickly wipes away his smirk. You let the head of his cock stay inside you, his entire length coated with your juices. 
“Don't play with me,” he says. “This is torture.”
“Then beg.” you propose, watching his features turn into pure shock before they change into devastation. 
It's funny. Makes you giggle all over again.
“What?”
“You heard me. Beg,” you grin, “Or what? Is that against your male ego?”
“You're so cruel,” he begs. “If I knew–Hey now!” he exclaims when you let him slide out of you, your lips curving into a smirk. 
You get off him entirely, laying on your tummy beside him. Elbow leaned against the soft mattress, you prop up your chin on your palm. Jungkook groans, frustration getting the best out of him as you grab the vibration. Turning it on, you catch his attention as you press the vibrating tip against his hard cock. He flinches, cussing you out immediately.
“Yah!” 
You laugh, “What? Does it hurt?”
“I don't know if you noticed, but I'm fucking hard and sensitive.” he grits through his teeth and you pout. “Just do something.”
Rolling your eyes, you turn off the sex-toy, playing into the little facade you created as you toss it away. Lifting yourself, you hoist your leg over his hips and face him with your back. He barely has any chance to react as you sink down on him again. This time, you actually move. He breathes out in relief. 
“I knew you were a good girl.” he mutters, causing you to stop. “No, no. Continue.” he reacts immediately which makes you smile.
You hold your balance by gripping his legs, just below his knees as you start riding him. It's hard to focus on other things than just his cock inside you. 
“Mhm, fuck.” You hear behind you, a soft moan leaving your own mouth when he hits your good spot. 
You pick up your pace, your ass smacking against Jungkook's skin but when you start to feel the familiar heat gathering in your lower religion, you're forced to stop. You don't want to cum too soon. Jungkook whines, cursing under his breath. 
“You're so whiny.” you comment, sending him a look of amusement across your shoulder. 
He's frowning, mouth pouting without realizing as he tugs onto the handcuffs again. Realization hits him and that makes you laugh again. He forgot he's handcuffed and wanted to touch you. 
“Just wait until you're done.” he threatens. 
Ignoring the way your stomach tightens in excitement, you don't give him that satisfaction of recognizing his effect that he has on you. Instead, you turn around to face him, sitting back on his thighs as you lean toward him.
“One last time, remember?"
“You also said break and look at us now,” he bites back smartly. “When I asked you if you're gonna let me in, this wasn't what I had in mind. But I'm not complaining.”
You start tracing random patterns on his abs, they flex under your touch and you know he's holding himself back. “That would be awful if you were complaining.” you hum.
“Y/N,” he whines. “Just do something.”
“I told you. Beg… or ask nicely.” you hum, moving your finger up to his chest.
“Please,” he says dryly.
You lift your brow at him, giving him an unimpressed glare. “I said nicely.” you remind him.
He groans, almost ready to throw a tantrum. Oh, this is so much fun!  
“Please, wanna fuck that pussy.”
You smile, leaning forward to get close to his face. His breath hitches as your lips hover over his. The faintest touch of them earns the corner of his lips before you pull away. You wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him a little before you put him inside you again. Jungkook hums and nods, obviously too joyful that you've finally listened. You don't waste any time, lifting your hips up and down as you ride him. 
“This is what you wanted?”
“Fuck yes.” Jungkook breathes out, muscles tensing. “Fuck, that's it. Yeah, just like that.”
He says, forcing his eyes to stay open as he watches your breasts bouncing. 
“Fuck, baby.”
Despite being fully engrossed in chasing your orgasm, you still smile in the midst of it. 
You're close to cumming, stopping your movements shortly after which leaves Jungkook whining. Loud and clear. 
“You were close, weren't you?” he teases after frustration slowly fades away.
“Shut up,” you bite. 
“Come on. Fuck me. Please .” he begs softly.
Nibbling on your bottom lip, you comply and move your hips again. This time, you don't stop. You chase your orgasm while Jungkook coaxes you through it.
“That's right, use me.”
“You like this?” you breathe out, throwing your head back as you feel yourself getting closer and closer.
“I love it,” he corrects you. “I'm gonna miss this cunt so much.”
“Don't say that,” you croak out. “You're making me regret things.”
“No regrets,” he groans. “Fuck, yeah.” He moves his hips up, meeting your thrusts in the middle as you whimper.
A few more thrusts and one big from Jungkook, you come undone above him. The knot snaps inside you and your entire body stills as your walls start clenching and unclenching. Your juices drip down Jungkook's length, undoubtedly staining your sheets as well but that's the least of your worries. 
Jungkook watches you come back to reality, eyes clouded with lust.
“You think you can go for round two?” he asks, watching you breathe out an audible chuckle. 
You can.
Giving him a nod, you settle onto rubbing his chest softly while trying to catch your breath.
“Uncuff me,” he says, stealing all your attention once again – this time not caused by the usual charms of the man under you. “Just wanna touch you.” he adds, softly and with a pout.
“What if I don't want you to touch me?” you hum, starting to roll your hips again which makes him hiss.
He grunts, closing his eyes. “Don't lie to yourself.”
Regardless of both of you aware of the lie, you keep smiling knowing he's damn right. 
“I'm not gonna do anything, I swear.” he promises, whining as your movements deepen.
Feeling like you could chase your second orgasm of the night, you reach behind you and put your hands on his thighs. Jungkook stares, eyes wide despite the evident desire and need.
“Holy fuck, you're gonna be the end of me.”
You giggle. You freaking giggle and Jungkook swears he's done for. 
“You little minx,” he grunts. “You wanna make me cum without me touching you? That's fucking cruel.”
“I like to be cruel sometimes.” you tease.
As much as you wish his hands would be on you, touching you everywhere and the way only he can, this is so much fun. 
While Jungkook's eyes are the only touch you can feel, the dark irises leave hot traces all over your skin, you enjoy his attention on you. It's no secret he alone brings you more confidence than he can ever imagine. Not to grow sentimental, especially right now and at this dirty moment, but for that you'll be forever grateful to him. You're scared for what's about to come in the future. You're too scared to think about it and you automatically shut down any hints of those thoughts coming up. 
You enjoy this while you can.
After this, you want to focus on your friendship with him. It's for the best.
You could easily regret doing this with him right now. Especially after the idea of taking a break. In reality, you don't. There are no regrets as of now and you hope they won't come. You won't allow it. 
“Play with your tits, baby. Show me,” Jungkook pants. 
Having you slowly start to bounce on his cock again brings a rush of heat to every inch of his body. You obey, grasping your breasts into your palms while you squeeze to soft flesh. Jungkook whines and groans, clearly still frustrated he can't touch them or anything at this point. 
“Pinch your nipples.” he orders, not full of dominance like you're perhaps used to, but full of desperation. 
You moan as you listen to him, bringing more pleasure to your body as you imagine it's Jungkook's hands instead. Eyes closed yet again, you can't bring yourself to keep them open. Your muscles strain, lungs begging for more air as you feel your heartbeat drumming in your eardrums. 
“Fuck,” you pant, “Think I'm gonna cum.” you force yourself to admit, totally clueless to Jungkook obviously seeing and feeling it. 
“Rub your clit for me. Fuck.”
Hand reaching between your legs, it's a little tricky to fully obey as you're still bouncing on his cock, close to cumming. You still rub your clit, whimpering and stuttering things you can't remember. Whatever leaves your mouth blends with the sounds of skin slapping. One hand on Jungkook's abdomen, you make sure you stabilize yourself while the other works on your clit. 
“Keep going, keep going,” Jungkook whimpers. “Please, please, please.”
You do. Your thighs burn but nothing won't stop you. Orgasm comes crashing down on you for the second time. Your walls clench around Jungkook's cock, sucking him dry as Jungkook warns you of his own approaching orgasm. 
“Fuck, fuck, I'm cumming.” he manages to get out.
Just in time, you barely make it and lift yourself as Jungkook's thick cum shoots up. The warm liquid lands on your pussy, some of it getting onto your lower belly trickling down your thighs. 
Jungkook curses under his breath, head dropping down onto pillows as his chest heaves. Yours too. Dropping down next to him, there's no care in the world as you both try to come back to your senses. 
After a minute of harsh breathing fading, Jungkook comments. “Almost didn't make it.”
Looking at him, you both grin at each other. “I made it.”
He scoffs playfully, amused by your confidence. He's restrained, therefore it would be completely your fault if he came inside you. 
“Gonna uncuff me now?” 
“Oh shit.” you curse, sitting up as you grab the key off your nightstand, leaning forward to uncuff Jungkook's wrists. 
As soon as you do, Jungkook's arms shoot down as the pair of pink fluffy handcuffs land on your floor. You watch him rub his wrists, frowning before looking at you as you shoot him a sheepish grin.
“You enjoyed that?”
“Probably more than I thought I would.” you giggle.
Jungkook's lips twitch. “At least one of us did.”
“You came, didn't you?” you raise your brow at him. “I'm receiving no complaints then.”
He laughs, sitting up as he cracks his neck. Looking down at his crotch and around the bed, he cringes a little. “Made a mess.”
“It's fine, I'm gonna clean that up. Go take a shower.” you point toward the door.
“You sure?” he asks, cocking his brow at his cum sticking to your skin. 
“Yeah,” you laugh, reaching for the wipes that are beside your bed. You clean yourself, ushering Jungkook to use your bathroom while you take care of this mess. 
Knowing there's no point in arguing, he still with an unsure look starts to get out of your bed. What he doesn't expect though is a slap delivered on his buttcheek. He turns around, shocked with mouth agape as he shoots you a look. 
“What does it feel like?” you tease, biting onto your lower lip as he shakes his head, fighting back a grin. Too bad, you catch a good glimpse of it. 
“You're lucky this is over.” he tells you, ruffling his raven hair. 
You're not sure if lucky is the right word to describe it, though it works for what he has in mind. And god, you're so close to calling this break off. Desperate and foolish. 
But since he talks about luck, it seems like it's on your side this time considering he turns around and leaves the room before you can make another rash decision. 
You decide to finish the movie after you're both cleaned, and so is your bedroom with fresh sheets. Everything goes back to normal, both of you acting as if you haven't had sex a few minutes ago. Ignoring the way every inch your skin feels like it's been electrified.
Jungkook's body takes most of the space in your bed eventually, the entire bedroom swallowed in darkness as chilly air fans your thin curtains. No scent of sex anymore just like there is no trace of your previous doings. The only proof lives in both of you now.
“Back to best friends?” Jungkook asks behind you, his arm outstretched just above your head.
“Back to best friends.” you confirm, ignoring the sentiment behind your tone.
“Don't tell anyone that I–”
“That I had you handcuffed and you whined?”
“Yah!”
Cackling, you look across your shoulder as if you could see him. “Are you ashamed of it?” you tease.
“Taehyung wouldn't let me live if he knew.”
You both laugh quietly. 
“Can you rub my back now?” you say after a while.
Jungkook snickers, sighing as he gets on his side facing your back. His hand is on your back, scratching and rubbing gently as you hum in pleasure.
“Shouldn't you be the one who's rubbing my back? Y'know because of what you've put me through tonight.” he grumbles, causing you to smile into your pillow.
“Didn't you enjoy it?”
“I couldn't touch you.” he says as if that answers everything. 
You still keep smiling, not being able to fight it back. “But other than that?”
He doesn't respond for a moment, leaving you to look behind you again. He hears the sheets rustling. “I came, didn't I?”
Somehow, that answers your question and you hum, lullying yourself to sleep – with the help of Jungkook's hands and touch of course. However, with a serious realization of what the fuck are you going to do now.
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lundenloves · 10 months
Note
DAD SIMON AND THE 141 VISITING TO CHECK THE KID OUT FOR THE FIRST TIME PLAPSSLSLSPSLSLSK AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHEN OTHERS HOLD HIS SWEET BABY PATOOTIE PRINCesss
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Anon, I may have strayed from your original thoughts a little. I hold my hands up. At this point, he has been back and had time with her already this is just 141 meeting her. And it's very? Thought-provoking? Possibly not how you imagined? Alas, voila.
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Having a newborn allowed for zero quiet. Nothing of the sort was even imagined, sleep was out the window and tiredness was the new trend. It became tougher when Simon had to go back to work, leaving you behind with a long apology and his credit card. What was the card for? You weren’t sure, but made sure it was used like fuck. £17.32 on McDonald’s delivery didn’t seem as painful with his money.
And that’s exactly what you were doing, happily. Baby sleeping on your almost bare chest with a haul of food around you in bed. It was only seven but you had no reason to be up and about, and the reality tv wasn’t going to catch up on itself.
In fact, you were about to reach the episode climax of Love Island. Someone had been mugged off and the producers were keen on making a drama of it, issuing a re-coupling. But. Right before you could skip the credits and fast-track to the next episode, the bedroom door swung open and you screamed. Waking your daughter who naturally began to cry.
"Fucking hell." You frowned at Simon who had quickly shut the door behind him upon seeing you. He wasn't due back till tomorrow. "Scared me.” The scold in your voice was one he ignored, picking up a milk-stained shirt from the floor.
“Put something on, christ.” His voice gruff as he shrugged his jacket off and reached for another t-shirt after wearily tossing the other back to the floor, holding it out. “What, Me?” Black-painted eyes narrowed at you upon holding his child out to him, asking for a trade.
“No. The other person in the room.” You deadpanned, widening your eyes in silent effort for him to take her. “Yes, you.” He did as told, looking down at his daughter blankly. “What’s the rush anyway.”
Although, your question was answered by a loud echo of laughs from downstairs. “All of them?” In reference to the only three men it could be.
“I didn’t agree.” He met your eyes, holding the baby back out to you for the brief second you passed him. Sauntering out to the hallway before he had called your name stiffly, eyes pleading relief of the absolute fucking threat that was his baby. “Take her.”
“You’re fine.” You waved a hand, walking downstairs with him reluctantly following.
It was a shame really, you couldn’t help but snort at the way he held her so high up his chest. “Don’t let Johnny hog her.” Was the only instruction you gave, wandering through to the kitchen where his unit were stood.
“Alright?” The Scot rubbed your shoulder in greeting, “Solid birth n’ all that?” His brows furrowed in genuine care although the question was worded oddly.
“Solid. Johnny.”
He tsked, clutching a hand to his opposite bicep. “Tends to be like that, ae.”
“Speaking from experience?”
He laughed although his eyes fell from yours to over your shoulder. Price held his hand on your back in acknowledgment, his eyes softening with a nod your way. “Christ.” He muttered at the sight in Simon’s arms, taking his hand back and removing his hat. “Congratulations.”
Gaz wrapped an arm around you, leaning his head atop of yours on his shoulder. “It’s mad.” He said more to himself than anyone else, catching eyes with Soap who for once was lost on what to say.
Simon’s eyes were stuck on the baby in his arms, refusing to look up and see the group reaction. Her small hand reached upward, and his finger met her halfway, face unchanged as she wrapped her hand around it. No one said or did anything, only Price who took a step forward to pat the lieutenant's shoulder. The moment was tender, and understood by everyone as such a thing even by Johnny who crossed his arms over his chest and contrastingly pout his bottom lip out to you. “You wanna hold her?” You spoke to him, crossing the space to Simon who had finally looked up. 
“Go on, then.” He pushed his jacket off, hanging it on the back of the kitchen chair. Simon’s eyes met Soap’s, a look of trust, threat and relief spread across his face when you had prompted him to hand her over. “Just a wee thing, ae?” He comfortably took her from Ghost, gently bouncing her and smiling when she had cooed.
“Tiny.” Gaz added, looking to Simon who shifted in his spot - looking around the room, finding comfort in anything other than the tiny being. He was still so unsure of himself. Arms crossed together over his chest in anxious replacement of the tac vest he would usually slot his thumbs into. “Fresh to the world.” 
“Five weeks old.” You looked at Gaz. “Brand. New.”
He shook his head at the idea of a baby, looking to Price who was subtly enough fixated on his lieutenant. “How’re you doing, Simon?” He asked firmly, in a tone Simon wouldn’t ignore or sigh at, one he recognised as important. A tone of order.
“Fine.” He kept it brief, locking eyes with Price who nodded slowly. 
It was hard to read Simon. Period. Even after years being with him, you still couldn’t predict the way he was feeling or what he was going to say about a situation. He distanced himself from his daughter the first few days, intentionally waiting until you woke to sort her out instead of facing himself and his past in the form of the harmless baby.
His allowed paternity leave wasn’t granted extension of more than a week, therefore he left you. And admittedly, although he wouldn’t ever say it, he was glad to get some time away. It had only been a week and he was already itching to be alone, no words you spoke could comfort him. Only the mindless living of a deployment. His desired remedy. 
Ghost was dead silent that whole mission. The unit knew why, although they were tightly instructed by Price to keep their mouths shut. Not to even ask about the kid. So they didn’t, not until today, when it was brought up by the man himself. “Ask about the kid, then.” He said gruffly, unlacing his boots and stomping his feet wide of each other, eyes darting between the three men opposite him.
“She alright, yeah?” Soap asked, receiving a dull nod. 
“We’d love to meet her sometime.” Price continued cautiously, looking to Simon who then nodded, eyes dropping to his boots. There was a moment of silence before he had spoken up in answer to Price, elbows rest on his knees, hands clasped together and rubbing against his mouth. “You don’t live too far from base do you?”
“An hour.” He cleared his throat, “I live an hour away.” 
“We could stop by,” Price was the one to suggest it, dipping to reach a bag behind Soap’s drawer. “This is, from, us.” He rubbed the back of his neck, holding the small gift bag out to Ghost who only looked up at it. 
“I’m going home tonight.” He said matter of factly. “Just.” A sigh. “Tail me and hand it in to her, she’ll appreciate it better than I will.” Soap smirked at Simon’s falsified reluctance, a hidden invite into his lieutenant's domestic life was on the table and of course he jumped at it. 
And you? You knew Simon had given a skeleton of an invite. It was obvious. 
So now, as your daughter had been passed to Price from Gaz, it felt oddly comforting to you. For Simon, you couldn’t tell as much from the way he was constantly sighing and moving in his spot - obviously discomforted by the idea of his unit being in such an intimate space of his but it was blown over by the end of the short visit. “She’s going to be tall.” Price tilted his head at the baby, thumb swiping across her small arm.
“Oh aye.” Johnny nodded, nudging Simon who stared down at her. “Think she’ll have your eyes?” His efforts granted a shrug from the man next to him.
“The colour keeps changing, but,” You caressed her head in Price’s arms, “They are his shape.” The tone of your voice warming Simon enough for the thought of a smile, the side of his lip curling just enough. 
Gaz nodded to a bag Soap had left on the counter, “There’s some stuff. We didn’t get much time.” He reached for it, holding it out to you. The purpose of the trip.
“And there’s a card with some money.” Johnny added, “See yous’ round the New Year for the wee yin.” The bag had generic baby gifts inside, although it swelled your heart to think of three large military men shopping around for each thing inside
And the card was a treasure in itself, one you would certainly keep, handing it to Simon so you could hug Gaz and Soap, receiving a kiss to your cheek from Price after taking the baby back. “Maybe see you lot closer to Christmas?” You asked, bouncing your daughter when she had begun to stir.
“Course.” Price nodded to Simon, following the other two out the door. You heard them talking about the baby from the threshold, watching as they piled into their respective cars and pulled off with waves and a single salute from Soap. Because, Soap.
Simon sighed once the door was shut, looking down at you. There was something between warmth and sympathy in his eyes, wrapping an arm around the back of your neck and kissing your temple. “You putting this up?” He mumbled, holding out the card before pressing his thumb and pointer finger together against his daughter’s tiny feet in sudden affection. 
“On the mantel for now, probably.” You rubbed his arm, following him through to the living room. 
There was new lightheartedness around him after they had left. Like having his unit meeting his daughter was somehow a weight that had finally been shrugged off after the fact. Even prodding a few more kisses than you would usually receive from him. His brain worked in mysterious ways, although you were not complaining. 
Not now anyway.
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sixosix · 7 months
Text
(OFFICIALLY) SWEPT OFF YOUR FEET
i. summary in which everyone knew you were in a relationship, except for you.
ii. warnings wc 1.5k, profanity, reader will be angry: couple fight scene but not really, alhaitham is kinda dumb here, but he loves you and you love him and that's all that matters, ending is kinda lame... ft. tighnari and cyno
iii. written for my big sibling @earthtooz hope u like this one earf ily
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“Hey, Alhaitham?”
He hums noncommittally.
You nestle further in his arm that’s draped lazily over your shoulder, his other hand and his attention occupied by a book. He doesn’t respond again, but he does glance at you for a moment while you shift, adjusting his arm more comfortably.
“Tighnari sent me a letter the other day.”
“Hm.”
“And it was real sweet, you know. He sent over fruits and told me you have your share in my package. He didn’t want to send them to you because he said the fruits would have expired by the time you’d read the letter.” Alhaitham doesn’t deny it. “But I read something extremely strange in the letter that had me dropping the fruits out of pure shock.”
Alhaitham still doesn’t reply. But you know him well enough to know that he’s no longer reading—just keeping appearances.
“Did you read it?”
“...No.”
Obviously. “Ah, well. Let me quote it, as I feel the need to share it with you as well.” You sit up straight and push Alhaitham’s book away from his line of view. “He said, ‘For the insufferable, lovely couple. It’s been a while since you two have visited. How are you and Alhaitham doing? Write back soon.’ And then he taped a flower.”
Alhaitham’s mouth twitches into a half-smile. “You look miffed.”
You scowl. “Alhaitham, of course I’m miffed! Since when were we a lovely couple? And why are you not surprised? Were you the one to prank them?”
“No one’s trying to fool anyone,” he says smoothly, picking up his book once again. As if he just hasn’t caused your crisis. “Tighnari is simply being a good friend and looking for something to nag us about.”
“Alhaitham, since when were we a couple?” you demanded again, shaking his arm. “Did I miss something? Did I wake up one day and forget about being in a relationship with you?”
“Haven’t we always been in one?”
“No, we have not?”
Alhaitham casts you a glance. “You sound unsure.”
“Because you seem so sure of yourself for no reason,” you fume, itching with the urge to hurl the book at his face. “I didn’t even know you were even into me like that!”
“I let you kiss me on the cheek every night before you leave my house. Sometimes, you don’t even leave my house, so we sleep on the same bed.” As if that explains anything. And did he fling out these reasons to Tighnari, too?
“Well, I do it because I’ve been doing it since we were, like, six. And you never told me to stop. Plus, it’s just a cheek kiss—that’s way different from an actual kiss actual couples do,” you say, getting increasingly infuriated with each word that’s coming out your mouth. Why do you have to explain how relationships work to Alhaitham? Surely he’s read a guide about love in the millions of books he’s touched?
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t start kissing me the way couples do, then.”
Oh, this bitch. “So you knew that I liked you?” Your voice wavers, and you feel a little pathetic. “And that’s what prompted you to start spreading lies to everyone? Is this some joke to you?”
Immediately, his expression is swept off of amusement. “Y/N,” he says as you feel your lips tremble. “Y/N, that’s not—”
“Shut up,” you say. “How long has this been going on? Since when have I been outside of the biggest inside joke, huh?”
“It’s not like that. I thought—”
“Oh, you thought, didn’t you? Yet you didn’t think I don’t want my feelings to be played like—like—” You can’t even bring yourself to say this. You know that Alhaitham can be mean when he wants to be, but making a joke out of the feelings you’ve desperately hidden for years?
“I need to leave.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to announce it. Was it because you rarely even leave his place? Each step feels wrong. You don’t want to be mad at Alhaitham to this extent but you’re hurt.
You ignore Alhaitham’s hurried, “Where are you going?” because you don’t have an answer to that. Wherever you go, you always end up in Alhaitham’s arms.
You forcefully push the door open and march off, head spinning, humiliated. You hear Alhaitham’s steps fall into place after yours. It’s pissing you off even more that Alhaitham doesn’t even look the slightest bit frazzled, as if you impulsively sprinting off is just a walk in the block for him.
Then you spot Cyno in the middle of a street. He catches your wrist before you can avoid him.
He blinks, mildly surprised to see it’s just you and not some food stall thief. “Y/N.” Cyno tilts his head slightly to acknowledge the man a few feet away from you. “Alhaitham. Is something the matter?”
“It’s nothing!” You don’t question why or how Cyno is here, shoving him aside—which proved to be a little difficult given how he’s pretty strong for such a tiny man.
“You’re crying,” Cyno points out as you try to push him away as if you aren’t aware of how your face feels uncomfortably hot and how tears are sliding off your cheeks.
“It’s a marital dispute,” Alhaitham says, directly behind you.
His voice makes you scowl. So infuriatingly sexy, and you’re mad at it. “We’re not married!”
Cyno nods, serious. “Yes, I only heard about the engagement.” At your stunned silence and Alhaitham’s reluctant stillness, Cyno clears his throat and steps aside. “I suppose I’ll leave you two to it. I don’t know how relationships work.”
You groan as Cyno walks off, “Great, so even Cyno thinks we’re a couple. Who’s next, Lesser Lord Kusanali?”
Alhaitham looks away. “Well—”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Your wrist seems keen on being dragged around by men today, it seems. Alhaitham firmly tugs at your arm, pulling you close to his chest, his gaze intensely searching yours. But all he would be able to see is your scowl. And all you can see is his handsome face.
“Y/N,” Alhaitham says, your name in his voice a sweet murmur. “I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t think you would react that way.”
“What, you think I’d just roll with it?” you spit with dripping bitterness.
“Yes.” You're taken aback as you gaze at him and find his expression to be entirely genuine and open. “We fell into a friendship so easily. I fell in love with you the same way: naturally. I thought…” And then his usually blank face twists into something unpleasant. “Forgive me.”
“Alhaitham, you idiot. You bastard. Do you have any idea how relationships work?”
“No. All I know is how to be with you.” He wipes a tear off your cheek. “But it appears I’m not even doing that right.”
“Fuck you.” You bat his hand away. His face falls. “You don’t get to act all sweet to me like that. I spent years thinking you would never see me that way, and you get to decide one morning that we’re in a relationship, just like that?”
“You’ve liked me for years?” Alhaitham’s eyes are a bit wide, totally missing the point.
“Alhaitham.”
“I ask you out every dinner. And you say yes each time.”
“I didn’t think you meant it like that!”
“I did mean it like that,” Alhaitham says, and again with that ‘so sure of myself’ personality. You hate it. You love it. “And I meant everything I’ve ever said to you like that. I didn’t tell anyone anything; they just assumed on their own, and only then did I realize how it did seem that way. It was my selfishness that didn’t try to deny their assumptions.”
Alhaitham’s usually so difficult to speak to, especially when it comes to expressing his true emotions. You often find yourself filling the silence, and he seems content with it. However, he appears desperate at this moment, as though you’re planning on leaving if he doesn’t give you a reason to stay.
You are too weak. “So you like me.”
“I do.”
“…And you want to… be in a relationship with me.” Alhaitham nods. You're beginning to feel flustered as the realization sets in that the man you've always dreamt of is holding you intimately in the middle of nowhere, and also confessing that he feels the same way. “Ask me out properly, then.”
Alhaitham looks at you incredulously. Did he think it was over?
“Do it, Alhaitham. Woo me. Win me over. Sweep me off my feet.”
“...Y/N,” he hesitates, his face tinted pink, vaguely embarrassed. “Go out with me. In that way.”
It sounds demanding and clumsy, but it’s perfectly Alhaitham, so your heart beats out of your chest and your face splits into a grin all the same.
You wrap your arms around his neck. “If you’re gonna be my boyfriend, you’re going to do it right, you hear me? You won’t just let me do anything. And you will start—officially—tomorrow by telling everyone that we are not engaged nor married.”
Alhaitham dips his head down, your chin trapped by his fingers. “We will be, eventually, though. And I can just start now. Officially.”
Your confusion doesn’t last for even a second when his lips meet yours in a kiss. You’ve been wooed. Won over. Swept off your feet.
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earth i hope u know it took me months to find a good plot for your man this was a feat in itself. also i copy pasted your tags love u.
also if u caught the title while it was called swept over your feet shut up…. Please. this didnt have a title originally 🙁
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cl6teen · 5 months
Text
come and see me ❀ ln4
in which everybody knows just how whipped your long distance boyfriend is for you
contains: social media!au, student!reader (21-22), whipped!lando who spoils you a bunch, a short little thing because i love writing for lando, this is purely self indulgent lmao; but to my requests dw im certainly getting to them
📍 rio de janeiro
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, bsfsinstagram and 79,477 others
yourinstagram clearly not much studying is being done!
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landonorris goddamn
landonorris first
bsfsinstagram this is getting out of hand
landonorris 😍😍
landonorris how are you so beautiful??
landonorris hey
yourinstagram hi i have a boyfriend 🥰
landonorris he’s a lucky guy
maxfewtrell please just come visit so that lando can shut up and stop whining about you
liked by yourinstagram
luv4lando lando always having post notifications on for yn is so boyfriend of him 😭😭
user hes literally head over heels for her
oscarpiastri please do your schoolwork
yourinstagram you’re one to talk 😬
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liked by yourinstagram, f1bestwags, danielricciardo and 533,266 others
lando.jpg tfw when u miss ur girlfriend but she’s across the world
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danielricciardo my man my man my man lookin ass
landonorris my girl my girl my girl , and what about it?
yourinstagram i love you 🥰
yourinstagram call me call me call me
landonorris yes ma’am 😍
user lando seems like the type to mention his relationship at any moment and i’m here for it
oscarpiastri he does 😒
landonorris you act like it bothers you
oscarpiastri i just listen because i can’t tell you to shut up
user omg i’ve just gotten into watching f1 but who’s this?
user lando’s girlfriend! he’s head over heels whipped for her
bsfsinstagram please stop facetiming her while we’re trying to study ☹️
user get you a man like lando norris
yourinstagram he’s a one of a kind, but good luck trying!
user nothing was more sweet than watching lando’s post race interview when he said his celebratory plans were going home and facetiming y/n
user need this kind of love in my life asap 😩
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my man 🏎️
are you back from the beach?
you
mhm, just made some dinner
wanna see the photos i took?
my man 🏎️
the answer’s the same every time babe
you
i’m screaming into my pillow and kicking my feet rn
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my man 🏎️ loved an image
my man 🏎️ loved an image
my man 🏎️
holy shit yn
😩😩😩
is that the dress i sent you??
shit, it looks good, you look so good in it
im glad i bought it
you’re the prettiest woman i’ve ever seen
you
lando omg
stop it stop it
my man 🏎️
i cant praise my girlfriend?
i should buy you more things
you
please don’t 😭
this was more than enough i’m so in love with it
my man 🏎️
if i can’t see you i can at least spoil you
i was going to get you a van cleef stack, what colour did you want?
you
lando norris.
i don’t need a van cleef bracelet.
my man 🏎️
what about some heels?
you
you’ve already got me a bunch, my closet is begging for more space
how about you get me podium on your race in singapore?
i cant wait to watch tomorrow
my man 🏎️
well that’s already a guaranteed
i’ll just surprise you 🤍
you
okay love 🤍
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yourinstagram come and see me for once (lando)
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user awe the photo from his stream earlier 🥺
user HELP when he saw that y/n was watching he got so smiley and excited
bsfsinstagram not the partynextdoor lyric
yourinstagram the best of the best
landonorris im coming.
yourinstagram yeah sure 😓
user the period???
danielricciardo is this shade 🤔
yourinstagram most definitely not daniel, get off my page
bsfsinstagram danielricciardo you can get onto mine instead 😍
user realer than real
user does anyone else thinks she’s always too quick to show off her body, like she barely wears any clothing
landonorris shut up
bsfsinstagram shut up
oscarpiastri shut up
danielricciardo shut up
user omg if i was that user i would have no choice but to stop living bc how u get cussed out four times back to back
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my man 🏎️
you shouldn’t worry about that comment angel
it’s been a few days, they took it down
you
i know, lots of people say it anyway
it shouldn’t bother me
my man 🏎️
it’s okay if it bothers you
but don’t change because of it
i like what you wear
i actually love it
you
🙄
of course you like it
you like everything about me
my man 🏎️
why wouldn’t it?
you’re so smart and kind
and fucking beautiful
i won the lottery
so don’t change yourself to fit a rando’s wants
who the hell even are they
you
i love you so much
i wish you were here right now
my man 🏎️
yeah, me too
but i got you that gift i was talking about
it should have arrived by now
you
oh i didn’t even notice
my man 🏎️
yeah they said they dropped it off at your door
you
okay i’ll go check, i’ll facetime you in a bit to try it on
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yourinstagram so he did in fact come and see me…
tagged landonorris
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user lando standing on business norris
liked by yourinstagram
landonorris i hope you liked the gift i sent
yourinstagram i love it so much
danielricciardo are you not the gift in question lando
oscarpiastri ik your grades are cussing you out rn
yourinstagram i’m actually still getting all A’s i’ll have you know
bsfsinstagram parents reunited in brazil!!
yourinstagram 💋💋
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landonorris 🇧🇷 with this stinker
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user the differences in their posts are taking me outtt
yourinstagram why would you post that
landonorris why wouldn’t i post that?
user will you be back in time for qatar?
mclaren he better be 😅
danielricciardo this is so girl from ipanema core lando
landonorris shut up mate
oscarpiastri when lando finally sees his girlfriend again and is no longer there to complain 🙏🏻
landonorris you know you miss me
oscarpiastri say hi to yn for me
yourinstagram best boyfriend ever 💋
landonorris only for you 🤍
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