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#but honestly he's deeper than i thought he would be
lyv-writes · 2 days
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quick to break: frank castle x reader
words: 5,596
warnings: explicit smut, afab!reader, blowjobs, face-fucking, consensual vaginal sex, mild cock worship, manhandling, spanking, praise kink, strength kink, mating press, choking kink, use of the term “little girl” but not in a ddlg way, more in a patronizing way??? and only like 3 times, honestly pureee filth. i came back with a vengeance, aftercare, cuddling after sex (truly the biggest warning)
notes: had to come back with a bang…literally. horrible pun, i know. please enjoy and feel free drop an ask in my inbox! :D this was also cross-posted on ao3 <3
・゚ ・゚·:。 ・゚゚・
Frank Castle.
Even the name was daunting, looming over you like a castle at the top of a hill. Walls impenetrable; no one got in that wasn’t wanted. He oozed control, of which Frank had a lot of.
Control over the scumbags of Hell’s Kitchen, causing even the most dangerous of men to move underneath his radar for fear of him catching wind of them. The images of the bodies he left scattered in his wake more than likely the first thing they think about when they wake up, and the last they think about when they lay their head on their pillow.
Control over himself, the patience on the vigilante running far deeper than anyone would expect with his gruff personality. It comes with the territory, spending hours staking out buildings, days following criminals, months jumping from goon to goon, working his way up to the big bosses. That was no easy task, oftentimes returning to his loft seething, having to remind himself that running in half-cocked would only get him killed before he accomplished his goals, before he fulfilled his purpose.
His favorite place to exert his control, however, was you. As of late, he finds his veins thrumming with a different kind of adrenaline—one that he can only find in taking you apart piece-by-piece, and putting you back together, not a thought in your head other than being good for him. He craves that control, in a way he only previously associated with the feeling of pulling the trigger of his gun with the barrel pressed against the head of some killer/smuggler/trafficker/piece of shit.
What made it so sweet was how willingly you gave it to him. He didn’t have to chase you down, didn’t have to break you to get you to bend for him.
He simply asked. Sometimes, demanded, if the mood called for it.
Even if he didn’t do either, you could tell what he needed with a look, and you were more than happy to help take some of that weight off of his shoulders.
It didn’t take much for you to realize Frank was holding back the first couple times you two slept together. The first time, you thought nothing of it, the moment being full of love, passion, truly an act of devotion between the two of you. It was sweet, it was perfect, it made you wish that your first time had been like that, with him. You finished together, kissing each other through it with wandering hands. Falling asleep in his arms that night, felt like a missing piece falling into place.
After a while of being together, and more than a few nights spent tangled with each other under sheets, it was a rare night where you and Frank could lose yourselves in each other's company, that you had ventured into new territory.
Driven by a night full of fleeting touches, ignoring the outside world for just a moment, the two of you stumbled into your apartment, lips reluctantly leaving each other only to shed your coats. You followed it up with your dress, and Frank impatiently unbuttoned his black dress shirt as you were already dropping to your knees, hands fumbling with his belt and unfastening his pants before he had even shed his shirt. You traced your lips over his clothed erection, nuzzling against his bulge before fixing your lips over his tip, lapping at him through his boxers.
His cock twitched at the feeling of your warm breath caressing him through the cloth and before he could say a word you had hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down to meet his pants in a heap around his ankles, his cock springing free from its confines. You looked up to see him looming over you, hard cock hovering over your face as he pulled up the white tank top he wore underneath his button-up, revealing his stomach, solid, yet soft enough to melt under the press of your finger. He stepped out of his bottoms and kicked them to the side, and stepped towards you again, pressing the underside of his cock against your tongue.
“Please, Frankie, fuck my throat,” You whimpered, hands resting on his thighs, still pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses on the head of his cock and down his shaft. The only thing that had been on your mind all throughout dinner was treating Frank the way he deserved.
He did so much for you, for the city, you wanted him to be selfish for once, to take what he needed from you. You began stroking his length slowly, looking up at him through your lashes as you lapped at his slit, a groan coming from deep in his chest at your words coupled with your filthy actions. Your words came out slurred, lips still pressed to his cock and eyes glassy. “Wan’ you to, really, really do.”
Frank swallowed hard, gathering your hair together in a ponytail in his fist, his other hand coming down to caress your cheek softly. “You sure, baby?” He asked, voice tight with restraint. You had no idea how badly those words made him want to see you gag on his cock as he sinks into your throat, but you were so sweet, so soft.
The two of you hadn’t discussed making things a little more intense in the bedroom, too satisfied with being joined together so intimately. Frank knew that he could get a little lost in it sometimes, forgetting his own strength when wrapped up in the moment, but he made sure to take care with you.
Frank was all too happy to take things at your pace, just having you to himself being enough for him. “Wouldn’t wanna hurt that pretty throat a’yours.”
You shook your head, a dreamy smile on your face as you picked up the pace of your strokes. “You won’t hurt me, Frank. I trust you.”
He took a deep breath, feeling a bit selfish at giving into your request so easily, but he couldn’t deny that he desperately wanted to see if your throat could take his cock as good as your cunt did. And who was he to tell you no when you asked for it so sweetly. “Just tap my thigh if you need me ‘ta stop, okay?”
“Okay, Frankie,” you breathed, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation of feeling Frank use some of that strength you knew was hiding under his soft flesh against you.
Frank’s nighttime activities have never bothered you, in fact, quite the opposite. You found his sense of justice, the drive to do what needs to be done, admirable, irresistible. You couldn’t help but adore him—feel safe with him. You knew that if your friends and family knew who Frank really was, they would question your sanity. How in the world could you feel safe with someone who could be so violent, so bloodthirsty?
But you knew he would never hurt you.
You found comfort in how capable he was at keeping you safe. Knowing he would do anything to protect his own—you were convinced that if the world went to complete shit you would remain unaffected in Frank’s loft, shielded in your very own fortress, just the two of you.
The way you felt safe, cared for as his body hovered over yours on your bed, was something like you had never felt before. You knew you could only ever feel this safe with Frank.
Seeing the look of unadulterated adoration on your face, the way you so eagerly lapped at his cock as you waited for him to finally sink into your awaiting mouth, had him groaning, his cock twitching against your tongue at the sight. After a steadying breath, his grip tightened in your hair and he slowly entered your mouth, feeding you his dick until his tip was hitting the back of your throat with a moan at the sound of you gagging around his length.
“Relax, baby, lemme in,” he grunts, his face pinched in concentration as he focuses on not hurting you, no matter how badly he wants to shove you down on his cock. With short, steady thrusts he works open your throat, pulling back out till the tip was resting on your tongue before plunging back in just a little bit further. “That’s it, baby— shit.”
His sounds have you moaning lightly around his length, eyes glazed over and looking up at him as he takes such care in making sure you can take him without harm. You relax as much as you can for him, taking deep breaths through your nose as he sinks further into your throat. The taste of him is heady, causing arousal to coat your slit as you work your tongue against the underside of his cock.
“Atta girl,” he purrs, the last inch of his cock sliding down your throat. He groaned, pumping his hips shallowly as he tipped his head back and you whined at the sight of him, shirt pulled up to his chest, a sheen of sweat covering his chest and shoulders.
The light from the ceiling haloed around him, an angelic image towering above you. You could worship him forever, you realized, as you felt his thrusts pick up speed, pulling out from your throat and plunging back in. With that thought, the last of the tension that was strung tight in your body dissipated and you knew Frank could feel the difference with the moan that slipped from his throat.
He was seated to the hilt, your nose pressed tightly to the trimmed patch of hair at the base of his cock. You struggled to get a breath in through your nose as he relished in the way your throat fluttered around his cock. With your eyes rolling back slightly, the lack of oxygen had your head swimming, your heartbeat thumping in your clit at the feeling.
Frank opened his eyes, dropping his gaze to where you were kneeled before him, eyes rolled back at the feeling of him filling your throat and he picked up his speed again with a loud moan. His balls slapped against your chin as he used your throat like it was a fleshlight, and you snaked your hand down to the apex of your thighs, sliding past your panties to your soaked core.
The feeling of your fingers against your clit had you moaning loudly around his cock, the vibrations from your throat dislodging a loud moan from his throat. “Such a good fuckin’ slut f’me, gettin’ off from havin’ my cock in your throat.”
His words had you whining, not expecting the filth that dripped from his tongue. Frank was very vocal in bed—telling you how good you feel, moaning into your ear as he sinks into you. But he was so vulgar, it had you rutting against your fingers at the same pace he fucked into your throat.
No matter how badly you wanted to get him off with just your mouth, to feel him cum down your throat, you needed him inside you so desperately. Finally giving in, the war in your mind ceased as you tapped lightly on his thigh, signaling for him to stop.
“Fuck, baby, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Frank asked quickly, worry lacing his words as he gently pulled out of your throat. His eyes met yours and widened slightly in awe at you, seeing the dopey smile on your face and the way you nosed at the flesh of his tummy.
“Not at all, Frankie,” you assured, your voice a little raspy before pressing a kiss to the skin above his belly button. You continued to litter kisses all over the skin you could reach, pulling a soft chuckle from Frank as he carded his fingers through your hair softly. “S’good, so good, jus’ need you real bad.”
“Yeah, baby?” He asks, a teasing grin on his face. “Need my cock in that cute little cunt’a yours? Bet that’s why you were humpin’ your hand while suckin’ me off.”
Nodding quickly, you stand on wobbly legs. Frank steadied you as you swayed towards him with a giggle before you shimmied out of your panties, grinning up at him cheekily. Linking his fingers with yours, you drag him down the hall into your bedroom, yelping at the smack he lands on your ass as you're crawling onto the bed.
Situating yourself on your hands and knees, you wiggle your ass at Frank teasingly, shooting him a coy smile over your shoulder. “Please, Frankie…need’ta feel your big dick stretching out my pussy.”
With a wolfish grin, he pulls his tank top over his head, grin turning into a smirk at the way your eyes rake over his body, admiring his strong torso before your eyes settle on his cock. It stood proud, mushroom tip flushed a deep red, pre-cum beading at the tip.
Mounting the bed behind you, he presses a palm between your shoulders until your chest is flush with the bed, presenting your slick cunt for his eyes. His rough hands knead the plush flesh of your ass, groaning at how wet your tight hole is for him. You feel his hand leave you and then come back down, landing a hard smack! to your ass, forcing a moan from your throat.
Frank watches the way your ass jiggles with hungry eyes, chuckling lowly at the loud moan you released. “Does my girl like it when I slap her pretty ass, hm?”
His hand comes down again on your other cheek, the stinging pain morphing into pleasure that pooled in your core. You felt slick leak from your core, face flushing knowing that Frank has the perfect view of your sodden cunt. That thought is confirmed when his thumb drags from your entrance to your clit, rubbing your slick around the tender bud slowly. “You really like that, don’t’cha, angel?”
His thumb added more pressure to your clit, circling it faster before slowing down again. He sped up again, feeling the way you inched closer and closer to your climax before slowing down again.
“Never would’a thought my sweet girl liked bein’ roughed up so much,” he mused, his grin clear in his voice. His thumb was replaced with two fingers, circling your clit a couple more times before dipping down to your entrance, prodding against the tight hole. You clench around nothing at the feeling of Frank’s fingers ghosting against your entrance, drawing another breath of a laugh from him.
“That why you wanted me to fuck your pretty little throat?” Frank asked, burying two of his fingers inside you the knuckle, the feeling of your walls stretching around them making you whine. “My little girl like it when I push her around a bit? When I use her like the little toy she is?”
A moan left your lips as Frank crooks his fingers, searching for that soft spot inside you, and it sends you reeling when he finds it. It feels like the air has been punched from your lungs at the way he bullies the spot, fucking you open on his fingers with fervor. Frank’s fingers were twice the size of yours, and long enough to reach the most delicious spots inside you.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, the force of his fingers forcing moans and incoherent mumbles from your lips. A cry tore from your lips as his hand struck your ass again, immediately repeating the action on the other cheek.
The pain mixed with pleasure had you gushing around his fingers, the sound of them fucking into you, lewd and wet, had your ears turning red. Without warning, your climax swept you under, your body tensing and trembling as white spots clouded your vision. Frank fucked you through your high with his fingers, slowing down until he was still, buried to the knuckle as your cunt fluttered around him.
As your orgasm subsided, you felt yourself relax, slumping further against the bed as Frank gently pulled his fingers from your twitching hole.
“Did so fuckin’ good f’me, baby,” Frank praises, draping his body over yours to press kisses across your back and shoulders. His hands trail from your hips, up your sides and squeeze at the plush flesh of your waist before dragging them back down to your hips and repeating the process.
His cock is hot against your lower back, hard length rutting slowly against your ass as he continues to ghost kisses across your skin. “Such a good fuckin’ girl—my good fuckin’ girl.”
A content hum builds in the back of your throat and you roll over on your side just enough to look back at Frank, your chest tightening at the grin stretched across his face. Frank’s smile always had your heart screeching to a halt in your chest, and you were sure your eyes turned to hearts at the sight.
“‘M all yours, Frankie,” you say with a sigh, pursing your lips at him to ask for a kiss.
He wastes no time in fulfilling your request, pressing his lips to yours in a deep kiss. You can feel his love pouring into you through the kiss, as if your souls were connected where your lips met. The kiss was broken all too soon by the smile that stretched across your lips. His smile soon mirrored yours until you were smiling fondly at each other, foreheads pressed together and breaths mingling in the close space.
“Are you okay to continue?” Frank asks, tone soft as he bumps his nose gently against yours. “We can stop here, baby. You’ve been so perfect.”
The tiredness that you feel is still tinged with an undercurrent of need, still craving to be so intimately connected with Frank. The feeling of his cock, hard and warm against your skin only solidified your thoughts. Pressing another soft kiss to his lips, you pull away just far enough to murmur, “Fuck me, Frankie.”
With a groan and a satisfied grin, Frank’s hand snaked down between the two of you, guiding his cock to glide along your slick folds. Your mingling breaths soon became shared moans as he pressed his dick flat against your cunt, lubing up his cock with your wetness. A whine hitched in your throat as his head nudged at your entrance until it gave way, allowing him to work his thick cock inside your tight hole.
Despite him getting you ready with his fingers, the feeling of him stretching you out in his cock had heat engulfing your body, your mouth opening in a silent moan at the never-ending feeling of him filling you. He finally met the end of you, pressing himself further just for good measure before pulling back till just the tip was seated in your cunt.
He leisurely plunged his cock back into you, allowing you to feel the way his dick carved a path inside you. You loved the way Frank always looked out for you, always put your needs before his own when it came to acts of intimacy. But right now you wanted—no, you needed him to take what he wanted.
“Frankie,” you whined, arching your back to press your ass against his hips, taking his cock completely. “Please, fuck me, Frank. Don’t hold back.”
A rough groan passes his lips, his hips pressing further against yours at your words. “Fuck, babydoll, I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“You won’t, Frankie,” you urge, looking at him with your face pressed against the mattress. “I’m not quick to break—promise. Please, Frankie, fuck me hard.”
He could hear the desperation in your voice, the way your lip trembled and brows pinched together as you looked up at him. Surging down to grab your jaw with his hand, he held your face still to press his lips urgently to yours, tongue demanding entrance before he pulled away, string of spit connecting your tongues.
Frank pulled away enough to look you in your eyes, making sure there wasn’t a trace of hesitation. Instead he found lust, hunger, love, as you smiled up at him once more. His voice was firm, more firm than you had ever really heard him be with you. “You tell me to stop, I stop immediately, do you understand, babydoll?”
“Yes, sir,” you responded immediately, the honorific just sounding right in the context. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.”
His gaze darkened at the sound of the title you used for him and he nodded at your agreement, dropping a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Good girl.”
His words washed over you like a warm breeze, sinking you further into the fuzzy headspace that you always felt bleeding at the edges of your vision when it came to being intimate with Frank.
You felt Frank straighten back up, his hands trailing your shoulders, softly down your sides to settle at your hips. Slowly, so slow it was agonizing, he pulled his cock from your wet channel, just the tip nestled into your heat. Despite the instinct to brace for the impact of his hips on yours, you forced yourself to relax, further melting into the mattress to show Frank just how much you wanted everything he had to give.
Frank stayed still, enjoying the visage of you so submissive for him. Presenting your sweet cunt so eagerly for him, like a bitch in heat begging to be bred. His cock pulsed where it sat snug in your entrance at the thought.
You started to get antsy, wanting to look over your shoulder to see what Frank was thinking, but wanting to stay still and be good for him. Just when you considered wiggling your hips, hoping to spur him on, he filled your weeping cunt in one fell stroke.
A cry was wrenched from your throat at the feeling of him filling you so completely, not sparing a second before he was pistoning his hips against yours. With your eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling of his tip bullying your cervix, you felt the curve of his dick brushing against that spongy spot inside you.
The pleasure was almost too much, your fingers tightening in their grip on the sheets and trying to drag yourself away from the feeling. With a grunt, Frank wrenched your hand out of the sheets, hand circling tightly around the bend of your elbow as he pulled you back towards him. His hips picked back up their rhythm, hand landing a thundering smack on your ass cheek as he fucked into you.
“Don’t try runnin’ now, little girl,” Frank grunted, landing another harsh smack against the raw flesh of your ass. “You asked for this.”
He was being borderline mean, his tone cold and detached as he used your body to chase his release, and his words had a loud moan breaking free from your throat. It only had you growing wetter, the squelching sounds of him railing your cunt increasing in volume, along with your moans.
You knew that if you wanted it to stop, you could say so, and you trusted Frank to keep his word. But it was so perfect, the pain burning in such a euphoric way, it was too much and not enough all at once.
“F-fuck, sir— unh! ” Words fell from your lips, incoherent babbles of his name mixing with your moans creating the most beautiful symphony in the silence of the room. “So good—so full, fuck.”
His hips came to a stop, pulling out so quickly you didn’t even realize until he was manhandling you onto your back. His eyes took you in from your face to the wet heat at the apex of your thighs, unconsciously licking his lips at the sight of you clenching around nothing.
“Kiss me, Frankie, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist and dragging your wet core against his cock.
He’s never been able to deny you anything, even now, his hard exterior dropping to press a languid kiss to your lips. You gasp against his mouth, his tongue taking advantage of the noise to slip in alongside yours. He pulls back just enough to murmur, “Bein’ such a good little toy for me, baby.”
His hips rut against you, grinding perfectly against your clit. His words send your mind floating off into the clouds, happy, sated knowing that you’re being good for him, that you’re taking all that he gives just how he wants you to.
You’re so lost in the kiss, the feeling of his chapped lips against yours, the warm weight of his hand caressing the side of your cheek, you don’t even notice him drag his cock down to your entrance. With a sharp thrust, he bottoms out once more, relishing in the way your eyes widen at the unexpected stretch, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.
Frank licks into your mouth one final time before pulling away, planting one hand on your hip and the other around your neck. He gives your neck a gentle squeeze, your eyes focusing on him and seeing the silent question in his eyes. You nod quickly, failing to form the words of encouragement he needed, but whatever he saw on your face was confirmation enough.
His grip on your throat tightened, blood rushing in your ears at the light feeling in your head. Frank cursed, hips stuttering against yours at the way you clenched around his cock, almost making it hard for him to pull out and press back in smoothly.
Frank can feel your walls fluttering around him, the signs of your climax approaching has him doubling his efforts. The hand that was on your hip leaves a trail of fire as he moves it to your mound, thumb ghosting over your clit and making your hips buck against his thumb at the feeling.
The sweet abyss of release was so close you could taste it, sweet on your tongue. You were desperate for it. Your hands clutched his shoulders, nails digging into the skin hard, dragging down in your pleasure fueled daze, leaving stinging, red marks in your wake.
“Please, please, please,” you mumbled, your brain melting underneath Frank’s weight as you felt his hands grab at your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest as he settled his weight over you. His cock pressed deeper into your core, the deepest anyone had ever been. “O-oh, God, Frankie—can feel you in my tummy, baby— ah! ”
Your voice was nothing more than a shrill whine, all the air punched out of your lungs at the change in position. His weight was comforting around you as he molded your cunt around his cock. You were sure you would never be the same after this, he had broken you down and rebuilt you in the same breath.
His fingers worked quick circles around your clit as he huffed, his pace slowing slightly, allowing him to hit deeper, harder. His hand is still loosely circling your throat, no longer squeezing but acting as something to ground you. Despite your previous orgasms, you know this will be intense. You can feel it building, but it feels slightly different, the pressure building more than usual.
“C’mon, little girl, you’re gonna give it t’me,” Frank grunts, angling his hips for that little spot that makes you feel like you could float away from your body. His hand tightens around your neck, your moan cut off into a ragged breath. “Cum around my dick so I can breed this tight little cunt, y’want that don’t you?��
“God, yes!”
In a flash, flames envelop your body, toes curling as your vision goes spotty at the force of your orgasm, leaving you cumming with a cry. Frank’s hand releases your throat, the oxygen rushing back through your veins making the sensations more intense. You’re so fucked out, you didn’t notice the way you soaked the lower half of Frank’s body, your arousal dripping down his hips and drenching the sheets.
Frank’s hips collide with yours, once, twice, before stilling, painting your sensitive walls with his thick spend. The feeling of him filling you with his seed, grinding his hips against yours and stimulating your tender bud, has you moaning softly as an aftershock rolls through you.
The air around you is still, thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Frank gently lowers your legs, pressing featherlight kisses to your face at the sight of you wincing in discomfort. Tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, you drag his mouth over yours, pressing a deep, unhurried kiss to your lover’s lips.
Frank’s softened cock is still wrapped in your velvet heat, both of you enjoying the feeling of being so close, feeling like you are one entity instead of two individuals. You had never understood the appeal of cockwarming until now, pressed to the bed with the weight of Frank’s body laid atop yours, joined in the most intimate way.
Finally parting for breath, Frank presses his forehead against yours, eyes closed as he melts under your nails scratching lightly at his scalp. His words are slurred in contentment. “Wasn’t too rough, was I?”
Shaking your head softly against his, you smile softly at his serene face. You only ever see Frank this at ease when he’s asleep, the only time the man indulged in being vulnerable. “Not at all, Frank.”
Pulling back far enough to meet his gaze, your hand falls to cup his cheeks. “It was perfect. You’re perfect, Frankie.”
It never fails to amaze him how you’re able to quiet the voices in his head, the ones that nag at him, nasty, cruel voices that spit venomous words. His whole being is still. Right now, intertwined with you in the closest way possible, he’s never been happier.
His lips pull into a sheepish grin, shaking his head at you. “That’s all you, angel. My good little girl.”
His praise makes your face flush, despite all you had just done, all he had just done to you, he still managed to fluster you. He presses a kiss to your pouting lips, chuckling into the kiss as you try to resist before melting against him.
Nuzzling your nose with his, he softly pulls out from your sensitive core, pressing a kiss to your nose as you wrinkled it at the sensation of his release dripping out of you. “C’mon, sweet girl. Let’s get you to the bathroom while I change the sheets.”
Standing up before you, Frank scoops you up in his arms, smirking at the tiny yelp you let out at the unexpected action. You smack his chest with a giggle before burying your face in his neck. Frank always looked at you a little weird when you sniffed at him like this, but you just couldn’t help it—he always smelt so good. If his natural scent was some top-shelf designer cologne, you would spend hundreds on it.
After placing you on the toilet, he grabs a washcloth, wetting it under warm water before kneeling in front of you and wiping down your sensitive areas with a gentle hand. Once he was done with that, he deposited the cloth in the hamper, before returning to the bathroom.
“I’m going to change the sheets and get you some water,” Frank says, pressing a lasting kiss on the top of your head. “You finish up in here, I’ll be done by the time you are.”
With a final smile, Frank leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him. You quickly use the restroom before wiping off the rest of your ruined makeup with a makeup remover wipe. By the time you’ve finished brushing your teeth and exited the bathroom, Frank is setting the glass of water on your side of the bed.
He smiles softly when he sees you exit the bathroom, his eyes taking in your bare figure with a look that wasn’t of hunger, or lust, but adoration, reverence. You had never felt so beautiful with just one look before you met Frank—he was unlike anyone you’d ever known.
He pulls back the duvet, sliding in against the fresh sheets and patting the spot next to him for you to join him. With a bright smile, you cross the room in a flash, burying yourself into his side as he tucks the comforter in around the two of you so none of the cold air could get into your little cocoon
You pressed your cold toes to Frank’s warm legs, giggling at the hiss he let out at the feeling. He glared playfully at you, kicking around at the blankets until he had wrapped them around your feet. Tucking his arm under your head, he draped his other arm over your waist and pulled you closer to him, your chilled nose brushing against the warm skin of his neck.
With a sigh you wrap your arm around Frank’s torso, hand splayed out on the muscles of his back and ribs. “Y’so warm, Frankie,” you mumble, the sound muffled from your place in his neck.
He laughs softly, his fingers drawing delicate shapes on the soft skin of your back. “You’re just cold, baby. But don’t worry, I got’cha.”
“I know,” you hum, trying to press yourself closer to him. “I love you, Frankie.”
“I love you too, sweet girl.”
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igglemouse · 2 days
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The start of a new day brings me a fresh wave of optimism and that's all because of the success of my stand. It started as a random dream, a stray hope that maybe, just maybe, I could move forward into a new life and have it be fueled by a career driven by my passion and ambition.
So yes, I will start the day off with left over pizza because I simply deserve it!
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There are a few things I must do before I can really get the day started. The usual chores of course. I cook so there's always dishes to be done and counters to be cleaned and of course there's always flowers to attend to as well. It's the dying days of spring with the coming of summer so I have plenty of gardening left ahead of me it looks like and that is work I look forward to.
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Just when I think things are going well the day hiccups, putting before me a challenge, a problem to be solved in the form of a broken toilet. Yeah, I'm not going to worry about it and so I call the now usual repair service, my voice familiar to them by now, and let them know that something else in my house is broken.
I thought about trying to fix it myself but I do have things to do today and I do have somewhere to be as well.
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And that somewhere? Pascal's.
I'm not going to dwell on what Simón and I shared earlier this week. I'll think of it as a book completed and closed. I've come to Oasis Springs to start a new life and that means starting new relationships which also includes those of the romantic variety.
So here I am before Pascal's place, large, big enough to house multiple people to be sure but its less than what I would have expected. He's an athletic prodigy, right? The next big thing? I'd think he'd at least live in a mini-mansion of sorts.
It's more than I have so who am I to judge?
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Pascal is there to open the door for me and lead me deeper inside. Holding my hand on the way there, perhaps ready to direct me into this next part of my life or maybe he's just grabby? Either way, his presence is welcoming and his smile is inviting.
"You look amazing," he breathes out, bringing his lips to my fingers for a well placed kiss. Playing the role of gentleman, I suppose? The subtle action brings some warmth to my cheeks that is difficult to hide.
Pascal pushes every button for me. Physically, he's everything I could ever want. Mentally? Well, that is up for debate, isn't it? Mental faults are something you have to dig up to discover. Honestly, I feel fortunate that he finds me attractive at all.
"Love day is tomorrow," I remind him, already picturing another date with him, wondering if I should imagine a future with him at all.
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"I know! It's just too bad I have a game that day," he says, sincerely disappointed, I think. "It is only a day, we have more than one day to spend together, don't we?"
"We do," I agree, two words fumbling from my lips and realizing that the language we are using right now assumes there is an 'us'. It's vague and really, too vague for my tastes. I want something more, something concrete, something I can rely on. Especially from a man like him. I chew on my lower lip, hesitating to ask the question I know must be asked. "When you say we..."
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The laughter that comes from him is welcoming and the sound itself pushes relief through me. It's warm and jovial and comes before a confident nod of his head. "Yes, we! There should be a we, shouldn't there?" It was my turn to give a nod, I feel a little fluttery to be honest, thinking this relationship is advancing rapidly but feeling like there is no sense in getting in front of a speeding train. "Frida?"
"Y-yes, yes, 'we' sounds good!" Does that make it official? I suppose so. For a moment I think of Simon and then remind myself that he's a man from my past and not my future.
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In the wake of our mutual agreement I can see that Pascal seems a little lighter, the smile on his face brighter with a vibrant look to his eyes. It's the look I imagine he has on his face after scoring a goal or making a crucial play while playing futbol.
Speaking of that, I find myself a little more curious about his world. I don't know much about it, if I'm being honest, next to nothing other than a bunch of people kick a ball around and try to get it into a goal, but the questions I ask him, about the basics and such, creates a shared energy between us. His passion for kicking balls around on a field is very infectious. "I should come! See you play-"
"It's an away game," he says, crushing that idea the moment I thought of it. "Of course you could travel. There's a wives club or something, they keep together sometimes but-"
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"Yeah, pass," I reply a little harshly. I'm not a wife and I sure don't want to spend time with a gaggle of what I presume are stuck up and spoiled women who will certainly judge me for being just a girlfriend. "I can't any ways, my food stand is really picking up and I don't want to slow down that momentum."
"Your stand is so cute," he says, bringing energy back into the conversation. "And those waffles were amazing. I keep meaning to come back but my diet is pretty strict sometimes."
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That I can understand. He's an athlete, after all. "I thought about becoming a full time chef. You know, work at a restaurant so that I can earn even more simoleons."
At this he frowns for just a moment. Quick enough for me to notice. He's also quick to explain himself. "If you're going to be with me you won't have to worry about simoleons."
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"You can never have too many! Besides, I'd like some simoleons that I earn for myself. You know?"
"Yeah," he utters, but the word comes out flat, a tone that doesn't quite fit well into my ears. It's a disagreement then, one he's not ready to get into but what could be the issue? If we were to become official official, you know, living together and everything, what would be wrong with having more simoleons between us? "Give it a year, Frida, and I'll be one of the best players in the world. Simoleons will never be an issue for us."
He says it with such conviction and confidence that all I can do is nod my head. There is a clear determination in his voice and and a look in his eyes that tell me this is a future he's already seen. One promised to him or at least he believes it has been promised to him. This part of him is a little intimidating, the drive of a man that will not be stopped and will let nothing get in the way of his goals but that part of him is also exciting and admirable. Maybe it's because its a contrast to what Simón offered, a man who was happy to get what he could out of life, nothing more. Pascal, I can tell, is a man that settles for nothing.
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I make it back home with more of a direction. I'm not single anymore. I'm not single! I don't know if this is a good or bad thing (because you know ladies sometimes its better to be single than miserably coupled) but it is definitely a thing!
I'm back in my kitchen, making waffles and baking cookies and decided to do something a little new. Fried chicken! It's one of those foods universally loved, who hates fried chicken? Other than vegetarians and vegans I suppose but I hope it will be a welcomed surprise for my customers!
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The waffles and cookies disappear from my counter, dishes that are familiar to my customers by now, and the chicken is not far behind. Overall, a pretty breezy 700 or so simoleons are earned and that's enough alone for rent. I might outgrow my little place before I can even get settled into it!
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The sun starts to fall, casting long shadows over the day and slowly but beautifully giving way to night. I don't like having my stand open at night because...duh, why would I? So I'm just about ready to close up shop until one more person lingers over to my stand.
"Hola!" I call out, catching his attention. One more sale won't hurt.
"Fryda?" He asks, his pronunciation all wrong. I nod my head any ways, impatiently wanting to make my sale and call it a night. "Closing up?"
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"Yes, loong day but...one more," I keep it simple, Simlish still being new to me meant short sentences are better than longer ones and despite what others say I do not like my accent.
"Anything you would suggest?"
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"Ummmm..." that's a question I don't get a lot so it makes me think for a moment. I look over the counter, most of the dishes are cleaned, my best offerings long gone leaving nothing I'd really suggest. "Pizza?" I wave a hand over it. It's not my best creation but he smiles, hands me his simoleons, and takes a slice.
"Can't go wrong with pizza! Thanks, Fryda!"
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But little does Friday know that her last lingering customer was none other than Ray Booker. Infamous local food critic and one who was looking for any reason to leave a scathing review.
He happily made his way to a nearby bench in a neighborhood park, cleared of children thankfully, and signaled for his cameraman to pop out and start the show.
Once the lens fell on him he went into his usual motions. Playing up his chewing, making the same 'oooh' and 'ahhh' sounds as if his palate was so distinct that he could suss out every bit of flavor.
After finishing it, he gave his audience a knowing smirk, an expression they knew all too well as the precursor for a bad review.
"I've never had a slice of pizza so bad that it might make me consider having pizza ever again. Who makes a cream corn pizza, any way..."
Episode List - Next
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designernishiki · 1 year
Text
as much as a i understand and respect ace kiryu truthers, i really feel like kiryu is the type to really take the idea to heart that sex is something vulnerable and meaningful and thus reserved for someone completely trusted and special to him– someone who feels right. after years and years he’s still never legitimately voluntarily slept with someone, always tries to turn women away or is at least apathetic when they try to get physical with him, never feels that deep and specific bond with a woman– nothing compared to some of his bonds with other men throughout his life. and maybe, hopefully, one day it’ll hit him that there’s a pretty big, glaring reason why no women have ever felt “right” to him.
#I’ve become a pretty devout gay kiryu trigger at this point#it just. makes the most narrative sense / is the most narratively interesting / explains So Much#kiryu#yakuza#kazuma kiryu#honest to god though it’s. the most realistic way of explaining why he jumps to the assumption that he must date or kiss a woman or whatever#as soon as possible with little to no room to actually fall for one#with yumi he’s literally in the classic comp het situation of ‘well someone told me I’m in love with her so I guess I’m in love with her’#no deeper thought no proof of falling for her etc#sayama’s more convincing and they start out actually building a dynamic that could end up being romantic maybe- but then they fucking jump#the gun and have kiryu randomly kiss her like something he saw in a movie instead of. you know. talking about things first. or anything.#partly because they’re in a life or death situation and are essentially pushed together via traumabonding#and that’s Extreme when it comes to the end of kiwami 2. honestly that makeout scene was just. really weird and uncomfortable. for multiple#reasons. I mean for one he says something like ‘I’m sure she (haruka)’ll understand’ in between the making out in reference to him not#even trying to get further from the bomb or anything#and just lowkey choosing to kill himself (disturbingly similarly to nishiki mind you) like uh kiryu did you forget that haruka. literally#lost her mother in an extremely similar situation. in front of her. and nearly lost you at the same time. kiryu’s personality is Not one to#just shrug off something like that- either he was purposefully choosing to kill himself because he felt like a failure and that haruka would#genuinely be better off without him Or the writing there was INSANELY out of character as to make him seem more focused on the supposed#Romeo and Juliet tragic romance situation than saving his daughter the grief of losing EVERYONE CLOSE TO HER and reliving the worst night of#her fucking Life#god if anything the ending of yk2 just screams ‘this relationship would not work out under normal circumstances and both of them are just#clinging onto whatever’s closest out of desperation and need for any kind of emotional catharsis available’#if you can compare a pairing to romeo and juliet . it’s probably not#a pairing that’s meant to be#sorry im going off on a huge tangent about how weird the ending of yk2 was to me uhhh anyway I could write a video essay on why kiryu being#gay is the most realistic and interesting interpretation of him possible . send tweet
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jrueships · 2 years
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thots on jimmy and tyler herro??? jimmy is obsessed with that weird white boy
tyler herro is so fucking fuck fugly and i cannot CANNOT get behind him (both literally and figuratively) or i will DISintergrate and everything he does against ME and MY teams should be registered OFFENSES !!!!!!!
but i let him live because he is keldon's boyfriend. Who is also .. Jimmy's boyfriend 😭 but jimmy is NOT keldon's boyfriend!!!!!!!! let's make that VERY clear ‼️
in all seriousness tho... i think he is ugly NOno im kidding i mean . im not 😐 but i am 🧍🏿. BUT FRFR i think the jimmy tyler dynamic is VERY interesting in the way that all it took to take down commitment fearing sexy mink butler was one white boy goated with the sauce (and not even rlly ... jimmy just deludes himself that Tyler is an ethereal being. He lukafies him. And for what reason???? Tyler does the bare minimum and suddenly he's got Jimmy humping his arm shouting glory to the gods above like LEAVE THIS MAN ALONE???? you could literally find another one who looks and acts exactly the same buying a hot pickel at a gas station. Why is Tyler the chosen one..) it's very interesting to see the pickiest man in the world desire a salt lick for dinner. When bam is RIGHT there ?!??? it's INSANE !!! .... it's Jimmy. i'm afraid..
#OF COURSE im sure tyler has more personality but because im an uncarer i do not decide to delve into it LOL#BUT that DOESNT mean i hate the ship in fact i LIKE it ! and its dynamics! it's VERY interesting#im willing to hear more abt it ! i just wouldnt create content for it myself AND THATS OK! some people 4get u can just enjoy things#without actively taking a part in it#and when i call tyler ugly i dont rlly mean it hes rlly not that bad 😭 when i call millionaires ugly it's bcs theyre millionaires#and they dont fall over dying all bcs tumblrman ted thinks they get no pusspuss. they get pusspuss!!#thoughts back to tyler tho i think hes honestly more toleratable oh i did Not spell that right but anyways#than jimmy TBH i think jimmy puts him not exactly on a pedestal but definitely a microscope for every observation possible#i think.. hm. if u get into deeper thought it's a Little idk irky behaviour but idk ive just never been a fan of giving 'white boys swag'#4 like the most mundane shit like can people just people??? bcs it can create those that seek out shit thru stretched acting BUT AGAIN#BUT THATS A WHOLE OTHER THING n i dont have the profoundness to discuss it justice#SO IN CONCLUSION... a guy like jimmy being fascinated by a guy named tyler is very funny to me#and i would have a lot of fun reading more abt it from a person who knows more abt the relationship!#'that weird white boy' LMFAO#tyler is honestly cool in my book until he starts shooting threes. then he is The Enemy and i Hates him 4ever .#ted asks#jimmy
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nanaslutt · 6 months
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hear me out.. gojo w a mommy kink
oh em gee nonnie………
i wasn’t sure if you wanted sub or dom gojo but i hope you like what i cooked up :p
pls enjoy<3
contains: fem reader, mommy kink, use of ‘mama’, ‘mama’s’ as well, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), coming inside, bully!gojo, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, a liiiiitle cervix fucking, squirting, stomach bulge briefly mentioned, begging, whiney!gojo
MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
it honestly started as a joke, maybe less of a joke and more of him testing the waters per say, “yes mommy” he chirped, humor and teasing laced in his tone when you asked him to take out the trash one afternoon
when you didn’t protest against the name, not giving him a usual snarky remark, he turned around to look at you, not expecting to see your blushing face, fidgeting from where you stood in the kitchen, looking embarrassed at the nickname he called you,
unbeknownst to you while you stared at your feet, a smile full of mischievousness was creeping onto gojo’s face, lightbulbs going off in his head
ohhh this is fucking perfect, he thought
he never knew how to bring up that he wanted to try this with you, it’s not like you would’ve taken him seriously anyways, he can picture how the conversation would go vividly in his mind,
but gojo was more than slightly to blame for the frequency in which you dismissed him. satoru was incapable of being serious to save his life
all thanks to his little ‘joke’ you were now currently in this predicament:
gojo’s massive palm shoving the side of your face into the mattress, tears and spit smeared on the sheets below you, other hand braced on your lower back, pushing you into the meanest arch as he fucks right into your gspot,
“you like that mommy?” he cooed, “like when i fuck your pussy like this? huh?” he teased lightly, laughing at the loud whimpers getting knocked out of your lungs each time his hips pulled his thick cock out of you only to bully his angry tip back right into your walls, rubbing you just right,
he was giving you the meanest backshots, feeling even more aroused than normal from not having to hold back this side of him anymore, “asked you a question mama’s,” he repeated, emphasizing his need for your response with a mean thrust,
“y-yeah f-feel ‘s good toru,” you moan out between his deep thrusts, “squeezin me so good mommy, fuuuuck.” he laughs when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him for the fourth time that night, “you gonna cum? you- o-oh fuuck.” words getting cut off at the intense feeling of your cunt gushing your squirt out around him,
“haaaaa, didn’t even warn me that time mama.” he grit his teeth, fucking you through your orgasm with newfound vigor, hand coming down to rub quickly back and forth against you clit, making your juices spray all over the bed underneath you,
“toruuuu, ‘m sensitive g-give me a second p-please.” you manage to stutter out, crying out when he doesn’t let up his assault on your overstimulated cunt, “nooo,” he moans pouting his lip down at you before smiling, “don’t think i wanna,” he finishes, leaning over you, moving his big hand off the side of your face and onto the bed next you you for leverage, other hand coming up to go grip your jaw and smash your lips into his,
he hums against your open mouth as you protest his malicious thrusts, fucking you like he’s trying to poke a hole through your guts. the new angle pushing his impossibly big cock ever deeper, kissing your cervix in painfully pleasurable thrusts,
“feel good mommy? huhhh?” he breathlessly whispers into your mouth, doing most of the work in kissing you as you were too fucked out to put in any effort. his tongue slipping into your mouth, sucking your lip into his and biting it between his teeth as he groans, “you feel me in ur stomach mommy?” he questions with a grin when he sees your shaky hand slide under your body to press against the bulge in your tummy,
“s fucking deep ‘toru p-please,” you begged, not really understanding yourself what you were asking for, but he just nods and hums agreements into your mouth, “m gonna cum inside you now.” he babbles against you lips, losing his sensibility bit by bit the longer he’s inside of you, butterflies flying around in his stomach when he feels your soft pussy clench around him tightly every time he uses the nickname, glad you’re getting off on it as much as he is,
“tell me you need it mommy, tell me- fuck- tell me you want me to fill this p-pretty pussy, need you to say it,” he’s gaping into your drooling mouth. your eyes having trouble staying forward in your eye sockets with how much pleasure you were getting from this,
“give it to me t-toru please, give it to me.” you somehow got out, barely coherent to someone if they were a foot away, luckily for gojo he was pressed against your face, whimpering ‘uhhuh?’’s repeatedly into your mouth, “cum inside mommy,” you slurred out, feeling his sloppy thrusts speed up,
loud echos of your wet cunt filling the room as he stills inside of you, whining and groaning out profanities hearing you call yourself by the nickname he was so insistent on, hips stilling deep inside you, cock feeling like it was inside your womb as he humps his sensitive dick against your ass,
“o-ohmygodd f-fuck meeee.” his whiney voice cries, rotating his hips in circles and simultaneously massaging your gspot while he lets the last spurts of his cum shoot deep inside you,
pushing his torso off of your back and leaning back while he pulls his still hard cock out, seed spilling down the back of your thighs as he spreads you pussy with his thumb to get a better view of it drip out, “fuck mama,” he laughed, biting his lip at the mess he made out of you, “gotta hear you call urself mommy again,” he smirks, pushing his sensitive dick back inside you, making you both gasp, “made me cum so fucking hard.” tipping his head back, breathing heavily as he steadies both his hands on your hips,
“not letting you leave till you have me shooting blanks inside this pussy,” he giggles into the air, you had no idea what you were in for.
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dadsbongos · 7 months
Text
then, and again, and once more
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6.9k words
Summary - Yuuji tries to impress you and win your heart, with the help of Sukuna… who seems weirdly knowledgeable about and interested in you.
Warnings - p in v sex, FULL NELSON BABY!!!, yuuji eats pussy :), oh yeah fem reader btw, sukuna is here too (and his cannibalism is mentioned), idiot friends pining for each other, very vague timeline idk but yuuji is aged up
sukuna-centric part 2
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There it is again.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
That unbearable thick bass in his chest, banging so tirelessly against his ribs that it threatens to make him nauseous. A quick inhale and yep - scratch that - he’s definitely already nauseous.
Yuuji sinks his sweaty palms deeper into his pants pockets, eyes darting sharply down to his beaten sneakers. The once vibrant ruby shade is now marred by dirt and aging threads - and if he turns his right foot just so, then he can see an old, blackened stain from pizza sauce he spilled while eating out with you. The memory, or more specifically how you’re giggling in his memory, makes him smile.
And in the real world, Megumi is watching his friend grin ear to ear while looking at a black, crusty splotch on the inside curve of his right shoe. After having just wide-eyed stared at you from across the room while you and Nobara heatedly debate where to go for dinner.
He glares at Yuuji, lashes narrowing, “You look insane. Knock it off.”
That snaps the boy from his reminiscing, and it takes him three long seconds before he registers the insult, “I was thinking!”
“Obviously,” Megumi scratches the side of his nose, more to just have something to do with his hands than anything else, “What were you thinking about?”
Humming quietly to himself, Yuuji shrugs, “Oh, the usual.”
“You’re hopeless,” Megumi maintains his efforts to keep his hands busy by scratching the back of his head, “Just tell her already. What’s the worst that happens?”
“She rejects me and avoids me,” Yuuji pouts, “Honestly, ‘gumi, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic - being a standoffish and awkward guy yourself.”
Swatting at his friend’s shoulder, Megumi shakes his head, “The hell is wrong with you? Was that just sitting in your mind?” he shakes his head again, glare growing stronger, “And don’t call me that.”
“I thought you had anxiety or something,” Yuuji shrugs, “Why else would you be so weird in public?”
Any previous concern regarding Yuuji’s well-being immediately flies from Megumi at that. He folds his arms across his chest with murmurs of hatred floating out from his lips. All as he waltzes over to where you and Nobara are seated around your laptop at the chipping hardwood table.
Yuuji has no problem shrugging off Megumi's irritation, but when it comes to the mere idea of your face stretching in disgust at him - God, isn’t that the worst?
“You’re the worst, brat,” comes that rumbling, terrible voice in the back of his head. The nagging used to sound more like him - and when he’s really stressed, it still sometimes does - but now his own voice has faded into the King of Curses’. Now his own voice is sweeter, more prone to praise and positives - in a weird way, Sukuna has made Yuuji better.
But in a lot more ways -
“Oi, don’t ignore me.”
He’s made Yuuji’s life so much worse.
“You like that one, right? I can help.”
You’re sitting back, allowing Megumi to take the reins on shooting down Nobara’s suggestion for sushi. Normally, that demand isn’t a problem, but this would be the fifth night in a row she’s tried roping you all into ordering sushi for her. You lean into Megumi a little, and Yuuji hates the way his chest tightens at the display.
It isn’t even affection. It’s just…
“You want to be the one she’s on, right?”
Yuuji sighs to himself and sneaks out of the kitchen, though it’s hardly a challenge when Nobara raises her voice to defend her long-lasting cravings.
With tense shoulders and a red face, Yuuji glances down each side of the hall to ensure nobody is nearby, “How could you help with this?”
Sukuna’s eye on Yuuji’s cheek has flitted up to stare into Yuuji’s, and that sickly crawl of his skin stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s wide grin makes his stomach turn, “You’re just a child, you don’t know anything about women.”
Yuuji could double over, hands on his knees and breathless in sputters of laughter, but he refrains - unwilling to let anyone hear his schizophrenic ramblings, “And you do?”
Sukuna’s eye rolls and Yuuji hates the way it feels under his cheekbone, nearly retching in response, “Of course.”
And that strings up some different terrible question in Yuuji, “But why would you help me?”
Sukuna has been so unwilling to do anything useful for Yuuji despite the fact he’s allowed to reside in this body - so what could possibly possess him to do this now?
“Do you want my help or not, worm?”
Yuuji sighs through his nose, eyes fluttering shut, thinking hard about the offer. He’d come to the conclusion not too long after swallowing his first finger to simply not question many of Sukuna’s motives, mostly since his goals are: chaos, women, and chaos.
“This better not be some gross pass at my friend,” Yuuji sneers, body electrified on the ready to smack down his own cheek should he hear an answer he doesn’t like.
Sukuna is too quiet for too long, and Yuuji is fully prepared to swipe at the parasite on his face when finally, that deep voice rattles again. It buzzes in his flesh, uncomfortable and itchy and so quiet he barely hears what the curse mumbles into him.
The boy pauses and lets the words melt on his tongue, he turns them between his molars and laves the roof of his mouth with the remaining implications. He wasn’t expecting Sukuna to be honest, not to that degree at least.
And Yuuji smacks Sukuna’s bulbous eye down anyway.
“Fine then,” Yuuji pulls his hand down and curls his fingers into a fist, another great big awful ragged sigh roughing over his tongue like barbed wire, “I’ll listen to you, but if you ruin this for me- “
“Calm down, brat,” the mouth pops back up stubbornly, bitterly spitting out his version of a promise, “I don’t plan on failing.”
Yuuji pushes himself off the wall and spins back into the kitchen unnoticed, hands locking behind his head as he saddles up beside you at the table, “So, what’s for dinner?”
He snorts at how you groan, looking up at him from your seat with tired, low-lidded eyes and gesturing across the table to where Megumi and Nobara are still arguing, “You tell me.”
“Why don’t we just go out?” Yuuji shrugs, grinning broadly despite the way his two friends both twitch their necks over to glare at him, “Come on, it’s not even dark! We can walk around and do a little looking; get some air!”
Nobara’s pitched shoulders drop, pinched expression falling into her usual lax, she looks over at Megumi again with a raised brow. Megumi shrugs, his own eyebrows still scrunched together, “If it’s fine with you two, I don’t care.”
You snicker, standing up against the stiff wood supports of the chair legs, one elbow digging into the table to further help hold you up while your spare fingers dance up to smooth out the crinkled space, “I think it’ll be fun.”
Megumi snatches you by the wrist and tosses your hand to the side while Nobara hops down from her own chair, stretching out her back until it pops obnoxiously. She’s already bouncing out of the kitchen to snag her shoes before shouting back, “Well, come on! We’re on a timer now, people!”
“Jeez,” you slip off the chair pegs, bumping slightly into Yuuji’s side - entirely oblivious to the sparkly fireworks you sweep across your poor friend’s body at the contact, “Should’ve just suggested that from the start, huh?”
Shrugging, Yuuji waits for you to begin walking out of the kitchen before following, “Sometimes you just need fresh eyes on a situation, you know?”
“I guess,” you fold your arms, evidently frustrated, “Just feel like that was something I should’ve seen.”
Yuuji feels that disgusting, familiar thumping in his chest just by looking at you now. Heat radiating from his cheeks to the expanse of his chest, throat swelling with the uncomfortable need to spill his guts - dump every little thought and feeling he’s ever had for you into your ears until you force him to shut up. Like how he can’t even look at Jennifer Lawrence the way he used to simply because she isn’t you.
Maybe then he’d tell you that this hasn’t happened in the six years since he first saw Silver Linings Playbook. Maybe you’d tell him to stop talking, and that you two would never happen.
Maybe then he can move on, when you crush his hope. But he doesn’t really want that.
And he doesn’t really know why he agreed to let Sukuna lend him any advice.
Oh well.
It’s when you’re rushing out the door to keep up with Megumi and Nobara that Sukuna opens his mouth for the first time.
His voice stabs into Yuuji’s ears, but it isn’t exceptionally as cruel as he usually finds it, this, instead, is purely instructional, “When you two are out tonight, tell her about that cat you saw around the garden today.”
Yuuji scratches through his messily filed memories, “I saw a cat?”
“Yes, twit, a black one. Tell her about how its fur changed color in the sun.”
“Okay…?” Yuuji huffs in his daze, finally putting effort into walking alongside you and the others, “Hey! So, I just remembered something.”
“Oh yeah?” you smile at Yuuji, purely encouraging, and he’s disgusted at the way he almost trips over his own feet.
Nobara and Megumi pay the both of you little mind, instead pointing out different potential favorite hotspots they could creep into for the night. Well, Nobara points out, they could even stop at two places if they’re feeling adventurous. And Megumi says they can do whatever the rest of you think is best.
But Yuuji isn’t listening, and you’re hardly lending an ear, he swallows down the rock in his throat and nods, “I saw a cat this morning - a black one! - and it made me think of you,” the gentle warmth spreading through him could either be the way you’re lighting up at him, or Sukuna silently congratulating his good line, “Its fur was all brownish red in the sun, it was…” your eyes are so starry and sweet, solely on him - it makes his tongue tie up in knots, “It was beautiful.”
“Bummer I wasn’t there, then,” you pout a little, “You need to get me for things like that!” he laughs at the way your face has morphed, all stern and strict business, “Seriously!”
“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, both hands up in playful defense, “I promise to call you if I see another cat.”
“Could’ve at least taken a picture for me,” you histrionically sigh, “And I thought we were friends.”
A sudden thought invades the back of Yuuji’s mind. Some hidden, more primal part of his mind that he doesn’t usually listen to flashes back to a time he doesn’t remember.
We used to be more.
You and him are sitting out in the sun with a fluffy little Bombay cat tucked into your lap. It paws at the buttery dandelions that bloom between you both, his own legs are sprawled out impolitely and your own are crossed to wall around the feline in your hold. His knee knocks against yours whenever he shifts his leg. You lean in, shoulder digging into the meat of his muscled arm and temple resting on his shoulder.
Your body is entirely at ease. His is, too.
Yuuji knows exactly where the thought comes from. And if that dark, creepy place weren’t so infested by evil then maybe he’d feel a little pity for it. But you’re in front of him now, and you’re excited to be here, and your pinky keeps knocking into his as you two walk side-by-side - so there’s no room for pity in his heart.
Your quartet winds up squished into a teal leather booth towards a back corner of Nobara’s selected diner. You and Nobara sit on the interior seats, pressed into the windows, with Yuuji and Megumi caging the both of you in. Megumi having shoved Yuuji down next to you before the boy could even see who was where.
“What were you thinking?” Nobara sits up, jabbing your arm with a manicured finger just to annoy you.
Flicking at her hand, you shrug, focusing on the boards plastered behind the front bar counter for any eye-catching special offers.
Yuuji can feel the tightening of his cheek skin as the eyeball threatens to pop out, it stings when his cheek is forced to split for Sukuna’s eye. His cheek below that parts as well for his lips.
And Sukuna is kind enough this once to be quiet, “Tell her to get the wildfowl bowl,” as if sensing his arising questions, Sukuna continues, “And tell the kitchen worms to make sure the vegetables are soft. Not well, not sturdy,” he sounds disgusted as he says it, “Soft.”
“Hey,” and against everything he’s been told by Gojo, Yuuji puts his entire trust into the curse inside him, “that wildfowl bowl looks good, right?”
You lean closer to Yuuji, arm brushing his as you try to see where he spotted that, “What’s in it? Duck?”
He gives a conformational hum even though he has no idea, “Probably good with soft vegetables.”
Megumi shakes his head, “What does that even mean?”
“When they steam the veggies for longer than usual,” you pat Yuuji’s shoulder while defending him, “I get what you mean, Itadori. Sorry Fushiguro is so judgemental.”
“I was just saying…” Megumi’s voice flutters out of Yuuji’s focus.
Instead, another memory he never made begins to flourish from that black, mushy, rotted back of his brain.
You’re sat in his lap, large thighs perfectly bracketing around your own. A neglected bowl of slim slivers of perfectly browned duck meat sits atop cooling rice, carrots, and green beans. No doubt soft and easy to chew. In your hands is a steaming bowl, larger than the one in your lap, weighed down by thick cuts of juicy meat slabs. Almost like steak, but there’s no outer hide tanned by flame. It’s red, almost raw, and even after trimming the fat - it’s still bathed in pink, fleshy trails.
Grinning so lovingly, you pinch the slabs with your bare fingers and merely giggle when Sukuna’s sharp teeth prick at your skin. His long tongue works to clean your fingers of the excess meat juices as he eats. Two of his hands are on your hips, holding you steady, a third is steadied beside him against the cold bone of his throne, and a fourth resides at the back of your head. Almost big enough to palm the whole of your skull like a children’s ball - he pats and pets and smooths his fingers over the slope of the back of your neck.
Preening under gentle attention, you’re sure to empty Sukuna’s bowl before picking your own back up.
People watch with blood at their feet, none dare to move. Fearful to become the next hot meal in your hand should they disobey Sukuna’s silent command.
As your hands wrap around your cold bowl, a deep grunt reverberates behind you in Sukuna’s broad chest. He tugs the dish from your grasp; plucks the duck meat between his forefinger and thumb and holds it above your nose, forcing you to look up.
He waves it in front of your face, “Open,” and you follow his order, lips parting yet still pitched up in the impression of a pleased smile. And when he flattens the meat to your tongue and you begin chewing - you’re still smiling. That earns another fond stroke down the back of your head, pausing at your shoulder and digging his thumb into the muscle just to hear you sigh, “Good girl.”
Yuuji doesn’t see all of that. He can grasp some vague sense that you two have shared meals he’ll never get to taste, but he never sees the gristle left behind on your fingers or the saliva webbed between your fingers after feeding Sukuna.
That - Sukuna ‘hmph's proudly as he watches you beam at Yuuji over your modern interpretation of your favorite meal - the King of Curses keeps to himself. Selfishly, just as he always has.
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That next morning, you sheepishly prattle into the dusty, creaky classroom with only four rusty, barely used desks and slip into the one by Yuuji. You’re toying with the tips of your hair, eyes bouncing from where Yuuji sits on the desktop beside you and the classroom door.
Nobara sits backward at the desk directly in front of you, arms coiled around the back support of her chair as she speaks and Megumi sits normally beside her - attention solely on his book. Yuuji watches you fiddle with the ends of your hair while pretending to listen to Nobara.
And then he sees it. The new cherry shade decorating your lips, and before Sukuna can sprout and tell him to - Yuuji’s leaning down with his best smile, “New lipstick?”
Jumping at the sudden voice, your rigid posture melts under the boy’s gaze, “Yes, actually. You like?”
It could be puke green and Yuuji would still want it smeared across his face from your kisses.
But despite housing Sukuna Ryomen and battling dreadful curses, Yuuji fails to muster the courage to say that to your face, “Yeah! It’s really pretty.”
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
There goes your annoying heart, hammering just from the sound of Yuuji’s overtly positive lilt. It makes your cheeks burn and fingers skittishly tip-tap against the pencil-scratched desk, “You think so?”
But he’d never lie, you know that.
So even though it shouldn’t be a surprise when he doubles down, your annoying heart won’t stop dramatically tossing itself around when Yuuji nods with a determined, boyish grin, “Definitely.”
It’s all so saccharine and perfect, it makes Sukuna nauseous. Which, in turn, makes Yuuji nauseous.
Face paling, Yuuji jumps onto his feet and excuses himself, rushing out of the room (with no Gojo even in sight, by the way) towards the bathroom.
“Is he okay?” Nobara murmurs, stretching her neck to see outside the door frame, “What a weirdo.”
“Yeah,” you sigh dreamily, “He is sometimes, huh?”
Megumi gags at your tone, “Seriously…?”
“What was that?” Yuuji’s question is spikey and venomous while he stares into the cracked, water-spotted mirror - straight at the little eyeball on his cheek.
“You two are disgusting,” Sukuna stares back into the glass, low-lidded and unimpressed, “Get this over with and ask her out, brat.”
“But what if she says no?” Yuuji reaches up and toys with the little pink hairs at the back of his head, eyes suddenly unable to meet Sukuna at all, “It’ll totally ruin everything.”
“Enough whining. She won’t say no.”
He doesn’t know how it took so long to recognize, or maybe he just needed an excuse to display his old, unbroken knowledge of you before your fleshly little weakling friends even knew it. But he’s seen the little bursts of color and stars and sparkles and all that cute mess before.
He’s seen it many times. It was the only way you used to look at Sukuna.
That puppyish, lovesick wonder as you fluttered your pretty eyelashes at him.
Even when he would return to you in blood and sweat and muck and smelling of the death and despair he expertly wrought.
You were always at least five paces ahead of Uraume, hands bunching up in the pretty flowing silks that decorated your body. Excitedly, you’d pounce and he would hold you. Sapping up your energy and feeding off the way you’d press cherry-tasting kisses all along his hardened face. You served yourself up to him on a silver platter, all your heart and soul and mind devoted entirely and without ulterior motives. That’s why you were always his favorite.
Nothing before or after you was ever up to par. And he felt disgruntled at every turn into different worshippers and concubines and lovers - somehow wronged simply by the fact they were not as you were. It was all so disappointing.
And every now and again he’d flash back to you while with others. He imagines it’s how children feel when they remember a lost or broken or tossed-out favorite toy. That ache of times lost and never feeling quite fulfilled again.
Which is why when he saw you again through this brat’s eyes, he could instantly remember those nights with you. Full-bellied and raw-lipped and your pulse between his teeth.
But Yuuji knows nothing of that, and so when he returns to the classroom - neither of you says anything.
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It’s only the two of you. Everyone else was cast out in the violent, unwilling acceptance that they had done all they could. With no open wound, there was a horrific list rattled off in Sukuna’s ears. Illnesses and infections that attacked the lungs and nervous system and skin and heart - things that would eat you alive from the inside. And when all could be done about that, you remained in bed.
In and out of consciousness and delusional, proclaiming twisted lights and shadowy creatures trying to rip you from yourself.
Perhaps, one of the women called to care for you shyly spoke up, perhaps she’s just too old.
And that was something he avoided admitting to himself.
But it was time now.
With dew still moist on the blades of grass and morning sunlight streaming through the window beside your bed - the bell tolls. Your fingers are stiff in the sheets, limbs cold and stiff when you’re found. Wide, puppylike eyes gaze up at the ceiling and Sukuna has you buried beneath the tallest, most twisted tree he could find in the surrounding forest. And when Sukuna returns from your grave that night - alone - he crosses into a dark tunnel.
It’s cold and solid beneath his feet, paces echoing back for his ears. He keeps his eyes down to avoid maddening himself over the plainness - the displeasure of even glimpsing this tunnel’s repetitive nature.
Until there’s light, golden, with the shrouded, clumsy shape of twisted branches and lanky trunks coming into view at the far open end.
And faintly, like the sweet singing of a beloved music box, he hears the tune of your voice. A high scoop towards the end.
“Itadori, right?”
Sukuna’s feet move faster before he even fully knows he’s moving.
On the other side is you, a hand jammed out in front of you in a polite wave - as if the both of you are strangers. Then that name creeps back up his spine.
Well, it’s not truly his spine, is it? It’s this new brat’s.
But then there’s your honeyed voice again, “Huh, third eye.”
Right. You wouldn’t remember it, would you?
You wouldn’t remember any of it.
Yuuji shoots up, dark sheets tangled around his ankles and cold sweat beading down his forehead - strings of pink hair matted down to his skin uncomfortably. His wide eyes scramble across the shadows of his room, slowly refamiliarizing himself with the expanse and soothing his pounding heart.
He smoothes back his hair, running through the small kinks and knots, “What the hell was that?”
That slicing pain along his cheek shocks him awake further, but no sore, deep voice follows. The eye sits there, downcast. Sitting inside this body is one of the last things he saw for himself, but to exist beside you again is liquid gold just flowing in a river. A river his new body refuses to swim in.
“She’s still awake.”
Yuuji looks over to the red numbers lighting up from his bedside alarm clock, “It’s midnight.”
Sukuna inhales sharply, irritation scorching a hole in his tongue, but he withholds the many sudden hateful thoughts he has towards Yuuji and simply repeats himself, “She’s still awake.”
“It’s weird how obsessed you are with this,” Yuuji swings his legs over the edge of his bed and slips his feet into the slippers you’d gifted him. They’re cheesy and themed after fire engines and just barely fit, but he wears them at any given opportunity.
The eye sinks back into his skin, lips sealing shut, and a thick sludge boils in Yuuji’s stomach. Quiet King of Curses is an unsettling King of Curses, and Yuuji barely finds himself able to tune out the exhaustive wave of Sukuna’s criticisms. That is much preferred to this buzzing silence.
Creeping down the moaning wooden panels to your room, Yuuji raps his knuckles against your door before immediately shuffling his fists into his gray sweatpants.
Something clatters against hardwood, sheets ruffle, and your footsteps thump, thump, thump up to your bedroom door. Your face peeks out from the sliver of cracked doorway, and there’s no hint of sleep in your gaze. You seem alert, if a little lazily slouched against your doorframe.
“Itadori?”
Oh, right. He was here to say something, wasn’t he?
But he can’t possibly find the strength in his tongue, not when you look at him like that.
With some impossible adoration, like you simply can’t wait to hear whatever stupid bullshit he’s about to spout. He feels so unworthy of it all, and he can’t wait to find out more about you and mold himself to it. To become someone you can’t imagine waking up without. To study and be studied, he’s ready to throw himself into the horrors of being known - if it’s you he’s known by.
The air is punched out of him as he speaks, “Can…” you nod him along, opening your door wider, “Can I kiss you?”
Now that he’s so close to the sugary river, he can’t wait to dive in.
“Seriously?” you laugh in shock at the outburst, but when his face persists, you fling the door open entirely, “Seriously?”
Yuuji winds his hands tighter, to stop himself from desperately clawing his way down your throat, “I like you. I’ve liked you…” he’s unnatural like this, red in the face and dodging your stare, “I don’t even know.”
But you do, you felt it when you first saw him. However, you’re not plagued by the chains of past lives, so the implications are lost. Winding your arms behind your back and grinning at Yuuji with toothy glee, “Me too.”
His eyes nail you with that doughy, desperate plea for attention - the need to be seen as himself. And you’ve always been glad to lend it over in plentiful bounties.
That buzz of silence stabs the both of you.
Until Yuuji can no longer tether himself to his pockets, his big hands gentle as he cups both your cheeks. He molds himself to you, hoping that those troublesome flashes of times he never lived will at least serve his muscle memory now.
Your hands twist into the front of Yuuji’s shirt, nails biting into the black, soft, loose fabric and tugging him closer. Yuuji’s lips are slightly chapped, and you can feel the imprints from where he’s bitten them raw. He hisses when you peek your tongue at the smooth spots.
Wrenching your hands back, you quickly run them under and up his sleep shirt - his skin is warm and he gasps against your lips when your fingertips skim along his sides.
Yuuji pulls back, cheeks flaming, and shoulders his way past your bedroom door, kicking it shut behind him and placing his hands over his shirt - finding yours through the material. He grins, chuckling at how you grope his muscle, squeezing around your hands, “Enjoying yourself?”
“Whatever,” you huff, embarrassed, then ripping your hands out from under his shirt and twisting your fingers between his before - just to prove a point - planting his palms below your own shirt, “You try being normal like this.”
Yuuji’s broad palms are still only burning into the soft flesh of your stomach, but his heart is terribly out of whack.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
“You can go higher,” your voice lilts higher, a mere soft whisper as if anything louder could entirely break the poor boy’s brain, “If you want…”
Of course, he does. He’d trade a thousand years with that Sisyphus guy Megumi mentioned to him just for twelve seconds of his hands sizzling up your body. Maybe even just for the chance.
His hands scope higher, palms glued to the planes of your body like he’s trying to scar himself along your skin. The sudden need to leave some lasting impression that he was there - here with you.
Yuuji does his best not to jump when Sukuna’s voice slithers into his ear, polite enough to whisper so he doesn’t alarm you, “Get her on her back. Tongue her cunt.”
You look at him all sweet and concerned when Yuuji’s nose scrunches, “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
But he has no idea how to tell you that Sukuna’s words make his stomach churn, and by the time he even tries to form the words he’s thinking about it. Imagining himself on his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands tangled in his hair, and eagerly trying to annoy your friends as much as possible with how loud he can make you. And he feels so, so lightheaded at that.
Yuuji’s eyes are wide, staring into yours with such fire that it almost makes you shy away, “Can I eat you out?”
But you brave his dissecting gaze, heart pounding in your ears.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
And, oh, Yuuji could just about die happy right now.
On his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands screwed into the twirls of his tousled hair and (hopefully) annoying at least a nosy Nobara should she be listening to your soft moans next door.
Yuuji wiggles his tongue into your weeping hole, nestling his nose against your clit with a wheezy little whine. His eyes flutter up at you through the gaps between your shaking arms.
“Get your hands in there,” Sukuna’s voice is muffled against the thickness of your thigh, “Thumb her clit, don’t rely on your nose.”
Crinkling his brows, Yuuji has to bite back his remarks about how Sukuna could’ve told him that sooner. Snaking his right hand over your leg, Yuuji flattens his large hand against your lower stomach and pins your bucking hips. His thumb taking residence on your swollen clit, the bridge of his nose still saddled beneath it.
Your back arches, hips grinding down into Yuuji’s thumb and tongue. He’s messy with it - head shaking just to tease and feel the wetness of your pussy slip and slather across his chin. He tongue-fucks you in earnest, practically moaning into you as he grinds against the mattress. Swishing his thumb against your clit faster when he can feel you tighten around him, chasing the feeling of you cumming all over his face.
He can hear it despite his desperation - the way your breath hitches and throat cinches out a squeal. Your thighs squish around his head and Yuuji has to force his hips still lest he be submitted to the horrors of cumming in his pants.
And it isn’t even the fear of your reaction - no, he knows better than to think you’re capable of making him feel shame. It’s just-
“Yes,” Sukuna’s voice is husky, tongue lolling out along Yuuji’s cheek to lather up your juice, “Yes!”
Yuuji knows exactly who will be making fun of him instead. He smacks at the unwanted presence and takes it as pure luck when Sukuna actually stays down.
He works his tongue out of you slowly, letting you whine and huff the way off your high naturally before peeking up at you. He’s grinning, eyes wide and hands retreating to dig hungrily into the meat of your thighs.
“Hey, I wanna try something,” Yuuji’s shamelessness in licking at his soaked lips makes heat flush all the way to your forehead, “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay?”
You nod sheepishly, body jittery with the little bugs crawling beneath your sweltering skin. Yuuji bends to the sudden thought he’s sure has something to do with the curse inside him with a mysterious catalog on all things you.
Yuuji slips onto his back beside you, curled against the cold wall corning your bed with his feet flat against the mattress and legs bent. He uses the unnatural well of strength he’s harbored since birth to squeeze at the fat of your sides and lift you atop of him. He can feel the warmth of your cunt on his pelvis and it wracks him with a shiver, you whine helplessly when his right hand immediately welds to your slit. His index and ring fingers part your lips so his middle can swipe coyly over your clit.
“Hah,” you watch his ring finger abandon its post to join the rude teasing, “Yuuji…”
“I know,” Yuuji sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes glued to where your wetness drips onto his skin, his hard cock peeking up between your legs, “I know, I’m sorry,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry. Especially when he’s continuing to tease you while pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Okay, serious now,” but he dips his fingers lower and prods at your hole, “Serious.”
You giggle, hot-faced, at his focused gaze, “Yuuji!”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he spreads your lips again just to stare from over your shoulder, voice hoars when he finally speaks up, “Alright. Serious now.”
Reaching between your legs, Yuuji grabs hold of his cock - hissing at the contact - and is internally grateful when you raise your hips to meet his head. He presses his forehead against your shoulder when his tip pushes inside you. You feel the hot puffs of air he sends against your back as you continue lowering yourself. He whimpers, the hand at his base flying across your abdomen and gripping your breast. He squeezes and pinches and tries suffocating the embarrassing little noises escaping his lips when you rock your hips down on his pelvis.
“Okay down there?” you twist your head to look back at Yuuji and you’re so glad you did.
He’s flushed down to his chest and his lashes are kissing his cheeks to keep himself together, when he finally opens his eyes fully and looks up at you. His bottom lip is red and puffy from how hard he’d been biting it, “Now I’m gonna do something new.”
This wasn’t new?
Yuuji’s arms stretch under the backs of your knees and come over your shoulders before winding behind your neck, pressing his palms flat against the back of your head. Your arms dangle uselessly at your sides, hands stretching out to graze his ribs and legs bouncing limply as he manhandles you.
His cock bullies itself in your cunt, hips jerking up into the fat of your ass.
Yuuji tries to suffocate down his groans in favor of your sweet moans being punched up from your gut every time he sweeps deep inside you. His lips press tightly just as your own pop open for adorable “ah, ah ah!”s - fighting to maintain his pace despite how badly he wants to pin you to his body and wallow through the wetness sucking him back in for every thrust. Feel your sweaty skin slide and stick against his and whine at the pulling sensation when you peel apart.
Another sudden idea pops into his brain and it’s almost instinctual how he follows it. Besides, it isn’t like he’s going to complain about being brain-blasted with memories that aren’t his if it means not having to hear Sukuna’s voice while fucking you.
Hips never falter in their snaps up into you, Yuuji cranes his neck to teeth at the meat of your nape. He bites possessively and grunts in response to your immediate pitchy moan. Then licking over the marks apologetically.
You try to smother down your breathless moans as Yuuji bullies his cock repeatedly into that spongy spot shooting stars behind your eyes. With an angle and drive and care you’re sure would be lost on any man other than Yuuji - and you’re dumbly struck by the hope that maybe this hard work is only because he’s here with you. And that coherent thought is fucked out of you with Yuuji’s next whimpered request.
“Don’t do that,” he gasps when you tighten around him after a particularly rough thrust, “Please don’t keep it down- wanna…” he moans and the sound flutters straight to your tightening gut, “Wanna hear you so bad, pretty girl.”
Unlatching your teeth from the plush of your bottom lip, flames lap through the wiry twists of your veins - burning through the stretch of your skin and scarring Yuuji. And he eats it up and greedily begs at your feet for more. It shames Sukuna just as much as it excites him to taste the salt on your skin through his vessel’s tongue and watch the way your legs shake and bounce under his vessel’s iron hold. His favorite way to have you and your favorite way to take him.
Yuuji unwinds one of his arms from behind your neck, lowering half your body slightly to swipe his fingers between the junction of your thighs. Right over the slippery spot where you’re creaming on his cock and taking the soaked fingers to your clit. His canines and soft lips battle for a monopoly of your neck and shoulder, swiftly circling your clit with his middle and ring fingers as his hips continue fucking you stubbornly.
“Hng, Yuu…!” you gasp, head throwing back and narrowly missing his - the coil winding tighter and tighter and your walls milking Yuuji tighter and tighter, “Yuuji!”
“I know, baby,” he kisses up your bent neck and presses his flaming cheek against yours, “God, please, cum for me. Cum for me,” his hips stutter, and his breath hitches and oh, he’s so close, “I wanna feel you cum on me, baby- I need it. Need it so bad.”
“Oh, Yuuji,” you dig your face closer to his as if trying to meld yourselves into one body, “‘m cumming,” you clench and he’s damn near wheezing, the knot in his lower belly popping as he feels you cum and drips down his balls, “‘m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming…!”
And just to avoid embarrassing himself from admitting he’s in love with you while spitting his own cum in your warm, wet walls, Yuuji strangles down his own final cries with a coppery, abusive bite to his bottom lip.
It starts to hurt, how he overstimulates himself through his slowing thrusts - letting you slip down onto his thrumming, sticky chest. Your legs sprawled across his sides, Yuuji slipping his softening cock from your hole.
You lazily roll off of Yuuji, landing face-first into your sheets at his side.
Yuuji can hear it again, that terrible, grating voice telling him, “Clean her, brat.”
And what’s the most terrible is he knows Sukuna’s command is entirely warranted. Flopping a hand onto your back, Yuuji traces heart shapes into the skin as he talks, “I’ll be right back.”
And when Yuuji’s wetting a soft, clean cloth he braved the hallway (nude) to retrieve from his room, he hears that voice again. It echoes in your bathroom.
“I want a turn when she’s awake,” a pause, “Fully awake.”
“Aren’t you charitable?” Yuuji rolls his eyes.
And that same utterance from hours before rings through Yuuji’s ears once again. Why Sukuna cared so much about petty crushes. Why Sukuna bothered himself by actually giving genuine, helpful points. Why Sukuna was fascinated by you.
“She was my most devoted and favorite lover in her past life.”
The way he says it inspires no respect for Yuuji - underlined in his thriving desire to be worshiped, as he imagines he deserves. Yuuji wouldn’t dare uphold you to that.
When he tenderly presses his thumbs into stiff muscles with a red flush and warm smile, Yuuji knows that for sure.
“Can I stay the night?” he whispers, folding his discarded towels and lazily tucking them by your bedpost on the floor. He feels that same hurried ache in his chest, awaiting for your impatience.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
You hum, lifting your head off the pillow and snickering, your drowsy face pinched to look at him like he’s stupid, “Duh.”
Giddy, Yuuji slips under the blankets he’d slid over you after cleaning the mess from between your thighs, and slots himself right next to you.
Rolling again, you twist into an open space against Yuuji’s chest and under his thick arm. Warmth drapes across your shoulders when he rests that arm over you. He circles his other arm around you and squeezes, grinning so hard he can feel it burning in the balls of his cheeks. Your ear rests against Yuuji’s chest, and you soothe yourself to slumber on the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
Blissfully unaware of the fact that when your bones are rotten and six feet deep, two more people will be curled into each other’s arms. With your same starry eyes that some pink-haired kid falls in love with every time they’re on him.
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sooniebby · 7 months
Text
Restraining.. but it’s the guys weight holding you down.. bonus if he’s your sister’s ex boyfriend ;) bottom male reader, reader is mentioned to have a cock. Spanking, feminization, and light degradation. (Adding dub con just to be safe but reader consents to everything)
Smut idea where reader ends up getting fucked by his sister’s ex boyfriend and finds out he likes bigger and older men :3
After your sister, Karina,’s break up with her boyfriend, she’s been a bit of a mess. Even though she was the one who initiated the breakup. She never told you why but she certainly told you what she’d miss from her ex.
His smile, his hair, his hands, and his big co—
Yeah, it was getting annoying. You were honestly glad. You didn’t like the guy. Some bad boy wannabe wearing leather jackets and riding a motorcycle. He was.. like in his mid 20s! Too old to be a bad boy! You were at least glad you’d never see him again
But that wasn’t true when you ended up seeing him in your home… the day you were trying on a pair of shorts Karina got you.. the shorts were way too short for you—your ass cheek was basically popping out and you couldn’t even wear underwear with it.
And now here you were, gripping your bedsheets tightly with the shorts around your legs as you bit down on your lip. A constant force pushing up toward the headboard as he fucked you like an animal.
You could’ve said no. And really, you were about to.. but damn, he was kinda hot. Tall, lean, and tanned skin. Jet black hair.. why did Karina break up with him..? Personality maybe?
Fuck a personality right now though…
Anyway, while you lose your virginity to your sister’s ex boyfriend, all you could do was whimper and whine. You tried moving but his body was pressed down onto you, forcing you to take whatever he gave you
And what he gave you was harsh deep thrusts. Easily reaching your bundle of nerves and earning muffled screams from your lips. You shifted underneath him at each graze of your prostate but was only met with a swift spank to your ass.
He didn’t even say much for you to drop your shorts. A simple raised eyebrow and a smirk got you wet. Which is… very virgin like but at least you’re not a virgin now :)
You didn’t even think about how weird it was that this guy, who was about eight years older than you and dated Karina for almost two years was fucking you without any sense of guilt.
But fuck… your sister was right. He did have a huge cock.. but suddenly you thought about your sister getting fucked by this guy and now you felt disgusted. You tried to move again but was met with another harsh spank and him pushing you even deeper onto the bed
It looked like you weren’t leaving anytime soon. And embarrassing enough, you took it. Future you would deal with the guilt of fucking Karina’s ex.. present you would enjoy your first ever dick
“You do this for everyone?”
Oh. He can talk? You only mewled as his thrusts seemed to only get quicker, the sounds of skin slapping filling your room.
“Dressing in these type of shorts,” he tugged at the shorts around your legs. “How many did you seduce with these?”
You could only try to ignore him and just enjoy the feeling of getting fucked but he grabbed your hair and pulled. A cry left your lips as you glanced at him, a faint smirk on his lips.
“You’ve always been cute.. glad to know your pussy is tighter than Karina’s”
You couldn’t help but mewl at his words, your tight heat tightening around his cock. His smirk only grew—his eyes staring knowingly into yours.
He’s got you now.
You came soon after that in embarrassment. How could that even make you cum? But he loved it. His past thrusts were fast but it felt absent.. now, he was fucking you like he was wanting to breed you.
Your lips were continuously open, loud and unabashed screams left your lips. Each thrust caused your body to push forward violently.
“Look at you… taking me well for your first time. Y’know.. I think I know why some people love fucking virgins.”
His thrusts slowed down, earning a whine from you. He was slow and methodical which was good at first but randomly, he slammed into you, earning a cry in pleasure from you.
“Not for the innocence… but for showing someone new how good it is to be fucked. And the discovery of themselves.”
He slammed into you again.
“I think I don’t want this to be a one time thing. This pussy’s too good to give up.” He gave a soft squeeze to your ass.
“…’s not a pussy…” you slurred out, practically cock drunk at this point.
He only grinned. His thrusts were slow as he brushed against your prostate before stopping right there as he painted your insides. You gasped in disbelief, feeling the warm liquid.
He pulled out and got off from on top of you. You continued to stay on the bed—just hoping he’d leave now so you could sleep in shame for sleeping with Karina’s ex.
But you heard the sound of a camera going off. With the last bit of energy you had, you turned yourself around to look at him as he smirked at his phone.
He turned the phone to you, showing you the picture he took. Your bare ass as cum dripped out of your fucked out hole. Luckily you were face wasn’t in the picture but if someone had been in your room, they could tell it was your bedroom based on the posters you could see in the background
“Safe keeping. I had to delete Karina’s nudes… so I need some new material. You’ll be giving me more, yeah?”
You could only stare at him dumbly as he grabbed his shoes and slipped them back on. He grabbed his jacket and looked back at you. You could feel his eyes roaming your body before looking down at your hole that was still leaking with cum.
A twisted smirk was on his lips at the sight. You blushed in embarrassment and looked away.
“It’ll be fun helping you learn about yourself more… I’ll see you soon. Wear those shorts again, alright?”
With that—he was gone. But the only thing on your mind right now was…
Why was he even here in the first place?
And uh.. more importantly—what was he going to do with that picture?
I’ve always liked the idea of sister exbf but only if the bf is older and a bit mean, but I certainly think I can make him meaner for next time.. how do you guys like him?
Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @chill-guy-but-cooler @nakedtoasterr @ofclyde @smellwell @tomoeroi @kaedezu @loivre @millecka @iwishtobeacrow
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alipal97 · 1 month
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I'm an Idiot
Pairing: Luke Castellan x fem!reader
Summary: Luke has a dream about about his best friend y/n that leads to him ignoring her so she doesn't find out his true feelings
Warnings: angst, Luke being an idiot, smut 18+ only please, language, it's a LONG one but it's so worth it I promise
"Shit, Luke," y/n moaned out, her soft breathes fanning against Luke's scarred cheek, "right there."
Luke thrusted himself deeper, groaning out at the sensation and burying his face in the crook of her neck. "God's, y/n, you're so fucking tight."
Luke pushed in slowly once more, burying himself to the hilt. He was going painfully, torturously slow. Luke wanted nothing more than to fuck her senseless until all she could do was scream his name, but not if it meant hurting her so he held himself back from driving into her full force and taking her like he so desperately wanted to.
Y/n knew what he was doing and responded by wrapping her legs around his hips, pulling him in deeper. They gasped simultaneously at the new angle.
"Don't-", he stuttered, "Don't do that." He held her hips down to prevent her from moving again, gripping it so tightly he was sure it would leave a mark and the thought sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. He panted against her sweaty collarbone as he tried to regain his composure.
"You don't like it?" She whispered in his ear seductively, raising her hips up to meet his.
Of course he liked it. He fucking loved it, but it was testing the restraint that he was already in a losing battle with. If she continued to pull him in deeper like that he was sure to snap. Luke could feel her clenching around his cock and fuck it made him want more.
When he didn't answer, y/n leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Stop holding back, Luke. I want you to fuck me."
With a sly smirk, Luke pulled out of her before-
Luke startled slightly as his eyes opened to the early morning sun that filtered through the windows of the cabin. He could hear the birds chirping outside and the slight footfall of other campers making their way to breakfast.
He sighed in frustration and rubbed a hand down his face, only to freeze when he felt a body stirring against him. He slowly lowered his hand, his brown eyes falling to Y/n's sleeping form next to him. She was fully clothed with her back to him as her shoulders rose and fell with each even breath she took.
Luke had one arm wrapped around her waist while the other was trapped beneath her head. Her hair falling over his arm and onto her pillow in a perfect halo. For the daughter of Hades, she sure looked angelic in this moment.
He realized he must have fallen asleep during one of their late-night talks, given that he had woken up in her cabin rather than his own. Luke was honestly thankful for her company. His sleep was typically plagued by never-ending nightmares, but never when he slept with her tucked into his chest.
Noticing that she was still sound asleep, Luke decided to relax and enjoy a few more moments of rest before he would inevitably have to wake her for breakfast and break them out of their comfortable bubble. He closed his eyes and pulled her body closer to his, tucking his face into her hair that smelled faintly of her jasmine and coconut shampoo.
Unconsciously, Y/n snuggled back against him, pressing her body back against his. Her round ass pushed against the bulge in his pants that he hadn't realized had been rapidly growing since he woke from his dream. Luke grunted at the contact and swore under his breath quietly. Nightmares may not be a problem when sleeping with y/n, but for the last few months other dreams had started to become a bit of an issue.
Luke had had a crush on her since the first day she walked into camp four years prior, something Clarisse and Chris never hesitated to poke fun at him about. How could he not? She was gorgeous, funny, and fiercely protective of those she loved.
The two of them had always had a flirty sort of banter that probably went beyond the bounds of friendship, but he never really made a move, of course, fearing his feelings wouldn't be reciprocated and valuing their friendship too much to jeopardize it.
Just like he was about to if she woke up and felt his hard on nestled between her perfect thighs.
It was probably a dick move to leave before she woke up, but Luke would have to come up with an excuse later because there was no way he was going to be able to conceal what the dream of her panting and writhing beneath him had caused.
Ever so carefully, Luke shifted his weight toward the edge of the bed and slowly began to pull his arm out from under her head, freezing when she stirred in her sleep. He swore quietly under his breath and waited until she stopped moving before pulling his arm away from her completely.
He tiptoed his way to the door, the old hardwood floor groaning slightly beneath his weight as he walked. Luke reached the door and turned to take one last look at her sleeping form that was now nestled against the pillow beneath her head, soft snores emitting from her pink lips. He smiled to himself and closed the door quietly, bounding through the camp on his way to take a very cold shower to relieve him of his 'little' problem.
The sound of her front door clicking into place made Y/N stir against her black silk sheets before she woke entirely, noting the now empty bed beside her. She furrowed her brows as she sat up, noticing that Luke's shoes were gone and so was he.
It confused her, to say the least. Luke had never been one to sneak away before she had woken up, usually opting to wake her with whispers that sent tingles down her spine and butterflies to her belly.
Luke had been acting strangely the last few months, but he never hesitated to crawl into bed with her when she complained of insomnia or nightmares. Having him around while she slept had eased what normally plagued her, and she knew it did the same for him. She shrugged lightly to herself, figuring that he had camp counselor duties to attend to, and she would catch up with him later. Still, disappointment settled in her chest at not being able to wake up with his body wrapped around hers.
Y/n was a camp counselor herself, but since she was the only current daughter of Hades, she was more or less in charge of only herself when she wasn't training the younger campers. She rose from bed, tidying the cabin around her before throwing on a pair of spandex shorts and her Camp Half-Blood shirt to get ready for her daily training sessions after breakfast.
She made her way down to the pavilion by herself, basking in the warmth that spread over her tanned skin where the early morning sun broke through the trees. She could hear the rumble of conversation from the other campers who were already sat for breakfast as she drew closer.
Y/n made her way through the breakfast line, her eyes scanning the area for a familiar mop of dark curls as she piled strawberries and pancakes onto her plate. She turned to make her way to her usual spot, noting that Luke hadn't yet made an appearance there, which was odd since he had obviously left before her.
Y/n took her usual seat next to Clarisse, saving the spot to her left for Luke whenever he decided to show, with Chris, Travis, and Connor sitting opposite her.
"Hey," Chris greeted her around his mouth full of pancakes.
"Hey," she replied distractedly, her eyes still scanning the pavilion.
"Who are you looking for?" Clarisse asked, noting her odd behavior and trying to follow her wandering eyes.
"Luke, of course," Travis said with a smirk.
"Who else?" Connor added with a smirk identical to his twin brother's.
Y/n's face flushed a light shade of pink as she resigned herself to pushing the food around on her plate with her fork. She knew that her crush on her best friend was painfully obvious to everyone—well, except for the one person who truly mattered. It wasn't like she really tried to hide it, always saving him a seat on her left at meals and choosing Luke as her sparring partner or simply cuddling up next to him by their nightly campfires.
She was hopelessly in love with her dark-haired best friend, but she never attempted to make a move, fearing rejection or, worse yet, jeopardizing their friendship. Still, Y/N couldn't help but blush when he would wrap his arm around her innocently and tuck her into his side or become flustered when she caught a glimpse of his well-defined abs when he would lift his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow during sparring sessions. Needless to say, she had it bad.
"Hey guys," Percy greeted the small group of friends as he sat to Y/n's left, leaving an empty space for Luke. Annabeth took her seat across from him. "Where's Luke?"
All eyes at the table turned toward her, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "How would I know?" She speared a strawberry on her plate with a bit more force than necessary.
"Oh, I don't know," Chris shrugged his shoulders sarcastically. "Maybe it's because he spends more time in your bed than in his own these days." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, earning a smack to the head from Clarisse and a glare from Y/n.
"Speaking of the lover boy," Connor says, his eyes falling to Luke as he makes his way through the breakfast line.
Y/n tries her best to act nonchalant, fighting the urge to turn and look at him. Instead, she resigns herself to pushing the strawberries around on her plate.
When Luke finally makes his way to their usual table, he pauses, noting the empty spot left for him next to Y/N. He battles with himself silently as his feet carry him closer. He wants to sit next to her more than anything, but just the thought of her leg accidentally brushing his under the table causes his dick to twitch in his cargo pants. There was no way he would be able to hide a boner with this many people around. Normally, he had a bit more self control, but thay dream had really done him in.
He had been fortunate enough not to encounter any other campers on his way to the showers this morning to relieve himself. His hand had been wrapped around his length, stroking himself in a fast rhythm as he imagined y/n lips wrapped around him, quietly moaning out her name as he came in his fist.
Luke quietly groaned to himself as he rounded the table, feeling y/n's piercing eyes on him as he took a seat between Connor and Chris. Everyone at the table froze, forks hovering midair in confusion and disbelief at the strange behavior. Luke didn't even pay them any mind, trying his hardest to avoid your gaze that had sparked with what looked like disappointment, fearing that if he started blushing he would never stop.
"Okay," Clarisse said, drawing out the word and breaking the silence that had fallen over the group. "Cabin Twelve is throwing a party on Friday. Are you guys in?"
"We're always in," the Stoll twins spoke in unison. Y/n thought it was funny when they did it, but Luke always found it disturbing and creepy.
Luke was barely listening to his friends’ discussion as he pushed the food around on his plate. He was trying to avoid looking up, knowing that Y/N was across from him, trying to meet his gaze. He knew she had given up when she let out an almost inaudible sigh, and he suddenly felt guilty. He hated ignoring her, but it physically pained him not to hold her and draw her in for a kiss when she pouted her perfect pink lips at him. It was as if Aphrodite herself was trying to punish him.
"I don't know," Travis shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip from his cup. "I'll probably ask Silena to go with me. What about you?" He looked over at his half-brother, who was still staring down at his untouched food. "Luke?"
"Hmm?" He hummed, breaking out of his thoughts and looking up from his plate for the first time since he sat down.
"Are you bringing anyone to the party?" Travis asked again.
"Oh, um," Luke was at a loss for words. There was only one person he truly wanted to ask, but he knew she wouldn't see it as anything more than friendly. They had attended parties together in the past, but it seemed inappropriate to him now that he had come to the realization that he was in love with Y/N. "I don't really know. I haven't thought about it."
Connor, being Connor, decided to stir the pot a bit. He opened his mouth to say, "What about Laura from Cabin Ten? She has a pretty massive crush on you."
Luke shrugged and finally took a bite of his breakfast, not noticing the way y/n's eyes watched him anxiously. "Yeah, I guess so," he replied, a bit distractedly. It would seem weird if he didn't take anyone, but he couldn't take y/n without torturing himself to the brink of insanity. He still couldn't shake the image of her beneath him or the faint sounds of her breathy moans that echoed in his mind.
Y/n had decided that she had had enough. She slammed her silverware onto her plate, swiping it up, and marched her way over to the fire pit. She threw her offerings into the flames and made her way to her first activity of the day. Tears stung her eyes, and jealousy clawed at her chest as she marched past the table where her friends all sat, looking slightly concerned at her sudden outburst.
Luke's eyes trailed after her, watching her back until she disappeared over the hill. He sighed to himself and ran a hand through his curls. He had thought that if he kept a bit of distance his body and mind would relax a little but he was more tense than ever.
Clarisse kicked him under the table causing him to wince and rub at his now sore shin. "What the hell has gotten into you?" She shouted at him.
"Ouch, what are you talking about?" Luke glared at her as he continued to rub his sore leg.
"I'm talking about y/n," Clarisse said, her brows raising as if what she was getting at was obvious. It was, but Luke didn't want to admit what he was doing was stupid.
"What about her?"
It was Chris's turn to chime in. He turned to his half brother and said, "Since when don't you sit next to her at breakfast, and since when don't you two go to bonfires together?"
Luke groaned in irritation, his face growing hot. The last thing he wanted was for them to pry and find out the real reason he was ignoring his best friend. It was embarrassing the way he was dreaming about her, and jerking off to the thought of it like a fifteen year old who just discovered women exist.
"My world doesn't revolve around y/n." He grumbled.
Percy snorted from his spot across the table. "That's bullshit."
"Language!" Luke, Annabeth, and Clarisse all chastised him at once.
Clarisse turned away from the son of Poseidon and back to Luke. "He's right, though. You two are always flirting with each other, and it's painfully obvious. Do us all a favor and put us out of our misery. This tiptoeing around each other is disgusting."
"What Clar means to say," Chris said, shooting a look at the curly-haired girl who merely shrugged, "is why are you avoiding her? We all know you like her, so why are you holding back?"
"Because he's a chicken shit." Percy chimed in with a smirk.
"PERCY!" They all yelled and the blonde rolled his eyes.
"Oh, come on! I'm thirteen, for crying out loud!" he yelled back, slamming his hands on the table. They all ignored him and went back to their conversation at hand once more.
"All we're saying," Chris said, gathering his plate of offerings and standing up, "is that you two have been riding this line between something and nothing for too long. Man up and ask her to the party." And with that, he threw his offerings into the fire and walked off toward the rock wall.
Sparring practice was a bit more tense than usual that day, and it was obvious to everyone around them. When they had all chosen their partners, Y/n had been quick to ask James from Cabin Ten before Luke could even take a step in her direction. It caused a stir among the other campers who witnessed the out-of-character behavior, leading them all to wonder what had happened between the two counselors.
Usually, she would make her way to his side, joking about trying her best not to mess up his 'pretty face', but today she wasn't really in the mood to joke and be ignored by her best friend.
Luke sat frozen for a few seconds, utterly shocked that she had chosen someone over him. He guessed he deserved it for the way he had acted at breakfast, but it still stung knowing that she was angry with him. So, instead of standing there looking like an idiot, he grabbed Percy by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from where he was attempting to flirt with Annabeth. He left her to pair up with one of her siblings as he dragged Percy to a spot where he had a clear view of Y/n.
They began to spar, and while Luke was the best swordsman the camp had seen in over three hundred years, his head wasn't in it today. Percy disarmed him repeatedly while his eyes wandered over to Y/N. She was currently grabbing a drink of water while James stood at her side, whispering something that made her throw her head back and laugh.
She pulled at the hem of her orange tee, lifting it up to wipe the sweat from her face. Luke's grip tightened on his sword when he saw James's eyes lingering over the tattoo on her right hip. He made to step forward when Percy's hand on his arm made him freeze and look back at the younger boy.
"I don't think that's a good idea. She already seems kind of irritated with you," Percy warned.
Luke scoffed, shaking his head, and walked over to where she was smiling with her hand placed gently on James's bicep. The sight made his blood boil, and he had the overwhelming urge to rip the boy's arm off.
"Hey," Luke said, directing all his attention to his best friend, who, at the moment, wouldn't even glance his way. "Can we talk?" When she continued to ignore him, he lowered his voice more and whispered, "Please?"
Y/n couldn't help herself; she lifted her gaze to his and nearly caved when she saw the pleading look in his eyes. But then she remembered how he had snuck out of her cabin that morning and proceeded to ignore her throughout breakfast. Y/n folded her arms over her chest and put on her best poker face.
"I'm a little busy right now."
"Oh, really?" Luke asked in a patronizing tone, crossing his own arms over his chest. Y/n had to try her best not to glance down at his bulging muscles. "Busy doing what, exactly?"
"Well, if you really want to know," she stepped closer to the blonde on her right, "I was just about to accept James's invitation to the party Friday night."
That was a total lie. Y/n had actually been about to turn the boy down and state that she probably just wouldn't go, but she figured if Luke could go with a date, then so could she. Maybe it would help her let go of her crush on Luke once and for all. She knew she deserved better than waiting around for the boy to come to his senses.
Luke scoffed, his face scrunching up with the action. "You're kidding me, right?"
This made Y/n angry. Luke had no right to be upset over her accepting a date to a party he didn't even want to attend with her.
"So what?" She took an angry step toward the curly-haired boy. "You can talk about asking Laura to the bonfire, but when I accept an offer from someone who's genuinely interested in me—"
Luke interrupted her. "You seriously think this guy," he gestured to James, "is seriously into you? Have you forgotten that he and his siblings sleep with people and then dump them just for entertainment?"
James stepped forward, trying to put himself between Luke and Y/n, something that irked the girl to her core. She didn't need anyone to defend her. "Hey, woah. You don't know shit about me, man, and you don't get to talk to her like that."
Luke's features darkened as he narrowed his eyes at the boy who was just a few inches shorter than him. "Back the fuck up and mind your business. She doesn't need you to be her knight in shining armor."
They were nose-to-nose now, exhibiting the typical dick-measuring contest, and Y/n had had enough. She pushed her way between the feuding boys (yes, boys), placing a hand on each of their chests. While James looked down at her with a smug grin, Luke refused to tear his gaze from the blonde, wanting nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face.
Y/n tried to meet Luke's gaze, but he wasn't backing down. With a heavy sigh, she let her hand drop from his strong chest and backed away, though it physically ached to do so.
"Let's just go, James." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, with James right behind her. Subtly, he flipped Luke off behind his back.
The days leading up to Friday were awkward and tense for Luke, Y/N, and the friends who surrounded them. In the mornings, when Luke arrived for breakfast, Y/N would suddenly be in a rush to get to her lessons. At night, she would lock the windows and doors of her cabin, pretending not to hear Luke knocking and pleading with her to let him in and talk.
By the time Friday rolled around, Luke was absolutely miserable without his best friend, and he was kicking himself for being so stupid. He wouldn't have had any reason to be jealous if he had just come right out and told Y/N that he was in love with her the very day he had realized it himself.
Now, here he was, looking like an absolute idiot, all alone, leaning against a tree with a drink in his hand as he watched his best friend snuggle up next to James by the fire. She was laughing and smiling as he spoke, but never quite like she did when she was with him. Every once in a while, her eyes would catch Luke's, and it made his heart skip a beat in his chest until she would quickly avert her gaze and give her full attention to her date for the night.
"Where's your date?" A voice spoke from his right and he pulled his eyes away from Y/n to see Laura batting her eyelashes up at him.
Luke shrugged and took a long pull from his cup, the liquor burning his throat a bit on the way down. "Didn't bring one."
"That's odd since I overheard that you were going to ask me." Laura licked her pink-painted lips and smiled, placing a hand on his chest. "I was waiting for you to ask, but-"
Luke's attention was pulled away as his eyes landed on Y/n, who was walking away from the party and back toward the cabins. He didn't even give an explanation or say goodbye to the Aphrodite girl as he pushed past her to follow his best friend. He was almost certain he heard her call him an asshole but he really didn't care.
Luke followed behind Y/n all the way to the cabins, unsure if she was aware of his presence. He figured she probably did, since she had the instincts of a goddamn wildcat, but was probably still just ignoring him.
He was a few yards away when he watched her reach her cabin and go inside, and he didn't hesitate to walk up the front steps and knock. Now that everyone was at the party, he could possibly get her to talk to him without an audience.
Nerves settled in his chest as he raised his fist and rapped it against the dark wooden door, waiting on the edge of his figurative seat for her to open the door and face him. Luke listened closely to the shuffling on the other side of the door before he heard a sigh and then the click of a lock. For a moment, he thought that she had locked him out and turned with a heavy heart to make his way back to the Hermes cabin to wallow in his self-pity until her soft voice reached out to him.
"What do you want, Luke?" She sighed heavily as she stood in the doorway, the door partially blocking her chest.
By the way she was attempting to cover her chest, and the way Luke could see her bare shoulder and the strap of her bra, he guessed that she had been in the process of undressing and getting ready for bed. He was trying, and failing, not to let his eyes wander as he made his way back up to her door.
"Can we talk?" Luke asked quietly, his voice and eyes pleading with her to say yes.
She hesitated for a moment before nodding and opening the door for him to step through. He let his eyes wander over the expanse of the cabin that he had seen a million times before in an attempt to give her some semblance of privacy while she found something with which to cover up.
It wasn't until she cleared her throat from behind him that he turned, and his heart stopped in his chest. She stood there with her arms crossed and shoulders tense, now covered in a soft gray sweatshirt. His sweatshirt. She still wore the black jean skirt that she had been wearing at the party, and he saw her top and bra discarded on her dresser, meaning that she was completely bare underneath his sweatshirt. Luke felt his dick twitch in his pants and had to shake the thought from his mind before things got out of hand.
He took a shaky breath and ran a hand through his dark curls before he spoke. "Listen, y/n/n, I'm really sorry about being a complete dick the last few days and for ignoring you. I was just going through some stuff and I didn't want to upset you or lose you as a friend so I thought if I ignored you until I could figure out how to get over it, things would be better."
Y/n didn't say anything as she waited for him to continue.
"It turns out," he took a deep breath, "I can't get over it, and I don't think I want to."
"What are you talking about?" She took a few steps until the distance between them closed, and she cupped his face in her soft hands, forcing him to look at her. "Why would you even think you could lose me as a friend?" Her eyes darted between his, but his were focused solely on her lips.
"Because I don't want to be just friends with you," Luke whispered before he closed the distance between them, his lips grazing hers. "Tell me to stop."
Y/n shook her head and tangled her fingers in his dark curls. "I can't," she said. And then she pulled his lips down to crash against her own.
Luke reacted immediately, his hands falling to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss was messy and uncoordinated, all teeth and tongues as they finally let themselves feel everything they had been holding back. When Luke swept his tongue along her lips, she moaned into his mouth and tugged his curls, eliciting a deep groan from Luke. Eventually, the two ran out of breath and had to pull back, their chests heaving from the lack of oxygen.
"Is this why you've been ignoring me?" she asked against his lips, wanting to taste his mouth on hers again, but not before she got her answer.
Luke smirked and shrugged. "Well, that and I've been having some pretty intense dreams."
Y/n pulled back, brows raised, and Luke's heart dropped for half a second before she smiled up at him through her long lashes. "About?"
Luke tightened his grip on her hips and dragged her closer and she gasped at the feeling of his hard length pressed against her hip. "Mind if I just show you?"
When she nodded, Luke didn't waist a second hoisting her up, her legs instantly snapping around his waist and his hands falling lower to cup her ass. He carried her to her bed, laying her down before kissing her with a bit more coordination than before. He slotted himself between her open thighs, rutting into her gently causing a breathy moan to fall from her perfect lips.
Y/n didn't waste any time ridding him of his shirt, throwing it down to the floor and allowed her hands and eyes to wander down the expanse of his toned chest and abdomen. It wasn't like she had never seen Luke shirtless before, having patched him up more times than she could count, but this seemed more personal like he was willing to let her see and have every part of him.
Luke's own hands wandered up the front of her sweatshirt that she had stolen from him so many months ago, travelling higher and higher until his hand came into contact with her bare breast. He took it in his hand, kneading and squeezing before rolling her soft nipple into a firm peak.
Y/n smirked and dropped her hands to pull the material over her head, growing more confident than ever as she watch Luke swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion. She leaned up ever so slightly and placed a soft kiss against his throat, causing him to groan and drop his head down to lay between her breasts, his soft curls tickling her sternum.
"The feeling is mutual." She whispered into the air between them, kicking herself for not coming up with anything better to say.
Luke lifted his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "'The feeling is mutual'? That's all?"
Y/n rolled her eyes and lifted her hips to push her core against the bulge straining in his pants. "Shut up and fuck me."
"Yes, ma'am." He smirked against her lips before dragging his body off the bed and standing at the edge.
Y/n looked confused before Luke quickly shed his pants, leaving him in just his black boxers, before he grabbed her under her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He kneeled on the floor, ridding her of her skirt and panties in one fluid motion. He nearly let out a moan at the sight of her glistening cunt and used two fingers to swipe through her folds.
"Did I do this?" Luke asked with a smug grin. When she didn't answer, he slapping her ass, making her jolt and throw her head back with a moan. So she likes it rough? Noted. "I asked you a question."
"Yes." She answered breathlessly, her fingers tangling in the sheets with anticipation.
Luke didn't say another word before he brought his tongue down to her weeping cunt and licked a stripe all the way up to her clit with a flat tongue. Luke groaned at the taste before diving back in for more. She tasted so sweet and heavenly and Luke was absolutely certain the next time he had ambrosia, it would taste like her.
Y/n's moans filled the empty air as Luke devoured her like a man starved, dipping his tongue into her hole before moving higher to suck harshly on her swollen clit. Luke moved one of his hands from her thighs to push two fingers into her, noting how tightly she squeezed his fingers. He curled them upwards ever so slightly, feeling her hands fly to his hair instantly and tug harshly. He moaned around her clit, sending vibrations throughout her whole body.
"Shit," y/n moaned as her back arched off the mattress, "Luke, I'm so close."
Luke pulled away from her, fingers still working in and out of her, bringing her closer to the edge by the second. "Let go, baby. Cum for me."
Between his tongue, his fingers, and the fact he had called her baby, y/n let herself go, cumming with Luke's name tumbling from her kiss-bitten lips over and over again. Luke continued to lap at her, enjoying the sweet and tangy taste of her release on his tongue, until she was squirming and all but pushing him away from the overstimulation.
He got the message and sat back on his heels, enjoying the sight of her post-orgasm, hands still fisting the sheets as she watched him lick his fingers clean. He moaned around the digits, teasing her until she physically couldn't take it anymore.
Y/n sat up and grabbed hold of his camp necklace, pulling him to lay between her open legs once more before smashing her lips to his, tasting herself on his tongue. Luke smiled into the kiss when she bit down on his bottom lip and tugged.
"I want you," she spoke against him breathlessly, "to fuck me."
Luke pulled back, placing his hands on either side of her head to support himself. "Who taught you patience?" He joked, but groaned when her hand snaked down to palm him over his boxers.
Luke got the message and decided that he was done teasing her, for now. He shed his boxers quickly and quickly aligned himself with her dripping cunt. He rubbed his tip through her folds, collecting her arousal before looking up at her, searching for any signs of hesitation.
He got his answer when y/n smiled up at him softly and pulled his forehead down to rest against hers. She angled her hips up and his tip slipped in, elicting a moan from the both of them. Luke moved slowly, pushing in deeper, inch by agonizing inch. His breath caught in his throat and his mouth hung open when he was fully seated within her.
"Are you okay?" Luke asked softly.
Y/n nodded and rolled her hips against his, letting him know it was okay to move. Luke captured her lips with his before pulling out and thrusting back into her.
"F-fuck." He groaned against her mouth, thrusting into her again. "You're so fucking tight." He trailed his lips down her jaw, leaving kisses all the way down her neck until he reached the soft spot just behind her ear. He bit down on the soft skin there.
He was going torturously slow and while she loved that he was being so sweet and gentle, there would be time for that later. Right now she just wanted him to take her and fuck her into oblivion. This had been a long time coming and she was done with the soft, hesitant actions.
"Luke." She whimpered against his ear, her breath sending shivers down his spine.
"Hmm?" He groaned, too consumed by the feeling of her heat sucking him in.
"Fuck me harder."
Luke pulled back, not sure he had heard her correctly. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. "What?"
Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist and spoke again. "Fuck. Me. Harder."
Luke didn't need to be told a third time once he was sure he wasn't imagining things. He grabbed her thigh and lifted it higher before driving into her. They both groaned at the new, deeper angle, sweaty chests heaving as they grew accustomed to the overwhelming sensation.
He set a new, harsher, faster pace, grinding his hips into hers to add to her pleasure. Y/n finally got what she wanted as he pounded into her already sensitive cunt. She bit her lip to try and contain her moans and Luke wasn't having it. On the off chance this was a one time thing, he wanted to hear just how good he was making her feel.
Luke pulled her lip from between her teeth, kissing her softly before saying, "Let me hear you. I want everyone in the whole camp to know how good I make you feel, that I'm the only one who can make you feel this good."
He pulled out and angled a particularly harsh thrust into her caused her to moan without a care for anyone that happened to pass by her cabin.
"Fuck, Luke, feels s-so good."
"That's it, baby, let them know who you belong to."
Y/n clenched around him and Luke could feel himself growing closer to the edge, but he would be damned if he didn't bring her to a second orgasm before he let himself go. He leaned back just enough to reach a hand between them, using his two middle fingers to rub at her bundle of nerves.
"Shit, just like that. I'm so close."
Luke would do just about anything to hear y/n praise him like that for the rest of his life. He could die tomorrow and he would be at peace with it now that he had heard the way his name sounded tumbling from his lips and the way her body reacted to his.
"Oh gods, I'm gonna—" with a hoarse cry, y/n reached her peak, clenching around Luke as her nails scratched at his back. She had probably drawn blood, but neither of them could find it in them to care at the moment.
Luke worked her through her orgasm, picking up his own pace as he chased his own high. With a few more calculated thrusts, Luke came with a low groan, biting down on the juncture between her shoulder and neck as he spilled inside her.
With a heavy sigh, Luke rolled off of her, reaching his arms out to pull her sweat soaked body into his. Y/n nuzzled her face into his neck and tangled her legs with his, breathing out a sigh of contentment.
Neither of them said a word until Luke finally caught his breath and asked, "So the feeling is mutual, huh?"
Luke's grin only grew when she slapped him on the chest. "Shut up."
"So if the feeling is so mutual," she glared at him, and he chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender. "Then why did you go to the party with James?"
Y/n sighed. "Well, my best friend, whom I really wanted to go with, was being a total dick."
Luke looked down at her apologetically. "So why didn't you tell him then?" he whispered.
"Because I've been in love with him since we were sixteen, but I didn't want to throw away our friendship in case he didnt like me back." She whispered back, finally laying it all out in the open.
"You know what I think?"
Y/n bit her lip nervously. "What do you think?"
Luke tilted her chin up to look at him, bringing his lips closer to hers as he said, "I think I'm an absolute moron for ever making you think that I don't love you the same way."
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im-am-not-a-weenie · 3 months
Text
🍓playing with their hair for the first time
Writing bg3 hc Now! Will also still be doing rdr2 a/n at the bottom for more info! spelling errors
Gn Reader
Gale, astarion,halsin,
Establish relationships
🍓Gale
You see Gale sitting all alone enjoying a good book. He always looked cute when he was enjoying what he was reading, he looked so concentrated and expressive
You couldn’t help but walk over to the wizard. “Mind if I join you?”. He smiled and patted the ground beside him “Of course, what’s better than a good book? Good company to share it with”
You sat down and made yourself comfortable ” What are you reading” You looked curiously over at the book in the wizard's hands. “Ah, It’s nothing really, just another tail of dragons and knights. I could read it aloud if you wish?”
He looked a bit nervous “On second thought you’ve probably grown tired of hearing my voice”. You gave his arm a reassuring squeeze “Never”
You laid back, Gale didn’t look very comfortable, being hunched over “Here,” you said sweetly and pulled him down so his head was on your lap “Better?” He looked a little stiff but quickly regained his composure “Yes, yes it’s quite nice”
As He started to read Your hand absentmindedly went to his hair, and your fingers started to card through his brown locks, you felt him tense but then relax back into it
You closed your eyes and leaned your head back listening to him read, but after a long you heard him trail off, opening one of your eyes to peek at him you could see he was starting to doze
With a smile, you gently took the book out of his hands “Huh?” He opened his eyes to look at you. ”you were falling asleep” your hand still in his hair
“Could You…could you maybe keep doing that?” Gale mutters sheepishly. You just laughed softly and smiled
That night Gale fell asleep with a smile on his face and your hands in his hair
🍓astarion
The party decided it would be best to stay at a tavern that night, treating themselves and of course, astarion headed straight towards where the bath was located
It had been an hour and still no sign of him, getting a tad bit worried you decided to go check on him, you knocked on the door softly “Star? Are you alright in there?” You were met with a muffled “Yes darling quite alright”
After a few minutes you hesitantly “Can…can I come in?" he automatically responded with a "Yes darling"
as you opened the door thick clouds of steam poured out. "hurry my love, we wouldn't want it to get cold in here now would we?" astarion was sitting in a bath you could only assume was boiling hot water "Star, how hot is that bath? your skin is red" he waved off your concern
"now what did you need?" his eyebrow raised in curiosity. "I was hoping to join you honestly" his expression dropped as he opened his mouth to speak but then closed it
"You can say no" your voice filled with nothing but love and encouragement. he hesitates for a moment before finally saying "It's just I don't believe the tub would be big enough for us both that's all" he flashed you a charming smile. you knew there was a deeper reason but didn't push
"i was actually thinking of just sitting in here with you. Would that be ok?' he looked taken aback "You just wish to sit here with me that's all?" you gave a nod "Well I mean who wouldn't want to sit here and marvel at my beauty, go ahead"
as he reached for the soap you beat him to it "Here let me." pouring a generous amount of soap into your hands, making your way behind him, first lathering the soap in your hands before sinking them into his hair
"What are you doing?" his body tensed up slightly. "washing your hair what does it look like" teased him with a sweet voice as your fingers gently massaged his head. "I get that darling but why?" his voice sounded unsure, not used to non-sexual intimacy.
"Because I love you, and you deserve to get pampered" his breath caught in his throat and quickly cleared it "Of course I do, I'm glad we're on the same page." you gave him a small laugh as you kept washing his hair, he closed his eyes and lent back into your hands. you swear you could hear him purring
you both sat in comfortable silence until he softly said "I love you too" You could hear the faint smile on his lips without having to see it
🍓Halsin
this morning was a rare morning, not only did you wake up early voluntarily, but you woke before Halsin which never happened. (to be fair he just got back from a long and exhausting journey but still!)
waking up feeling warm. not sure if it was because of how the sun was hitting your face or because of the giant man holding you close to him
your eyes fluttered open and you were met with the sight of a sleeping Halsin. he looked peaceful. the sun made him look radiant, glowing almost, as his chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm. something else caught your eye. he had his hair down
yes his hair was always down but it was always pulled back, but this morning it sprawled messily over his pillow, and a couple stray strands laid on his face. you couldn't help but reach out and brush it away
his eyebrows frowned before he quietly spoke "Your hands are cold" You quickly retracted your hand. "sorry" you whispered back, Halsins eyes opened slolwy. blinking away the sleep, he smiled and grabbed your hand and placed it back on his cheek, and kissed the palm of your hand. "it's ok my heart"
you could feel your face heat up all you could do was smile dumbly "It's down" was all you said and tucked a few more pieces behind his ear. "does it bother you my heart?' you shook your head, all too eager to see the druid with his hair down. "no, I like it"
running your hand through his usually well-kept hair. "how is it so soft" you wondered out loud, Halsin just chuckled and let you have your fun.
he let out a content sigh. "awfully affectionate this morning. not that I mind" his lips pressed against your forehead. "Is something the matter?"
"no, I just missed my bear that's all" You studied his face, taking in every detail. "I think I finally understand the whole "appreciate nature's gift" thing." the druid just laughed warmly and shook his head fondly
the two of you spent all morning like that. his arms wrapped around you and you playing with his hair
🍓A/N
hey guys im back! so much as happened i graduated and im 19 now? life has been crazy!! i know this is different from my usual content but playing baulders gate gave me inspiration to write again. dont worry i will still take requests for RDR2 but i will also be writing for BG3. With that said im cleaning out my inbox so if you see your request finally go through a year later.............����‍♀️. i will also be taking BG3 requests. i did astarion, gale, and halsin i think i can write them comfortably. but do not be scared to request other characters if you really wanna see me write for them or have a really specific scenario in mind. i will also try to post every other Wednesday
love yall and thx for the support <3
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incognit0slut · 3 months
Text
Pretty Boy
spencer reid x gn!reader
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warnings: (MINORS DNI!) sloppy, filthy male oral a/n: this is more of a drabble (915 words) so there’s no taglist. I was going through clips trying to make an edit and this scene had me thinking, ‘I need to give this man some head.’ Thus, this is the result of my horny mind. Sorry not sorry.
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HE WAS TOO PRETTY TO RESIST. With lips slightly parted, the strong lines of his features softened into a restful state as he savored the way your lips wrapped around him.
Your mouth slid down the length of his cock, tongue running along every inch, and you watched as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, soft stomach heaving with every labored breath.
"Please..." he groaned, the word strained as it left his tongue. The way he whimpered and thrust his hips into your mouth sent a rush of adrenaline through your body. You had him right where you wanted him, on the edge, desperate for release, flushed with sweat beading against his forehead.
And who were you to deny a man in need? You kept your eyes fixed on his face as your nails dug into his thighs, and pushed down even further, the tip of him finally budging into the back of your throat. You tried to swallow him whole, yet you couldn't help but gag a little, rearing back with a cough.
A string of saliva slipped out of your mouth as you looked up at him. He really was pretty. Long, dark lashes framed his eyes as he watched your every movement. A faint stubble adorned his chiseled jawline. And his lips, wide and soft, were slacked open as you leaned forward again, the same time his fingers found their way into your hair, grabbing a fistful of it as your tongue licked the underside of his cock.
You started with just a few gentle, teasing licks to the tip, one right over his slit, and you felt his hips buck underneath you. You wrapped your fingers around him as you slowly took the head in your mouth, sucking carefully, letting excess spit run down until it collided with your hand at his base.
You twisted your hand around him, because everything was slippery enough to do that, and you started to move your head. It wasn't long until the room was filled with obscene lewd noises followed by his moans of pleasure. His desperate whimper was like music in your ears, and you continued to move along his cock, giving everything he wanted.
With each bob of your head, you took him deeper until the tip hit your throat and he moaned loudly as you gagged again. But you continued to take him deeper until his whole head was past the back of your throat and you fought the urge to swallow him fully.
"Oh, god," he moaned. "That—that's it, such a pretty mouth..."
His praise only gave you the urge to take him deeper and all of a sudden your lips were at his base, his cock buried deep inside your mouth further than you ever thought possible.
You slowly gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, pretty and needy. He looked down at you when you stopped moving, utterly still with his cock buried deep inside your throat; your cheeks flushed and eyes watery, lips stretched wide around his girth. Your stare was unrelenting and his grip on your hair tightened.
He was close. You could feel it. You felt it in the way he guided your head, speeding you up faster and faster until he was practically using your mouth. You did your best to use your hand, but eventually, you gave up and kept your throat open, letting him use you however he liked. After all, he looked too pretty for you to stop him.
Your jaw hurt, and your knees burned from being on the floor for too long, but you didn't care. Not when he was looking at you like you were the best gift he had ever received. And maybe you were, because honestly, you would give him everything he asked for. Not only because he deserved it, but because you enjoyed being used for his pleasure as much as he did.
You moaned when he tightened the grip in your hair, the sound sending vibrations over his cock, causing him to inhale a sharp breath through his teeth. You were desperate to try and keep up with his rough pace, his hips snapping into your mouth relentlessly.
You gagged around him again, feeling the burn in the back of your throat, your eyes watering, your lips stretching around his thick shaft, spit leaking from the corners of your mouth. He looked down at you, and god, he couldn't hold it any longer.
With sloppy, determined thrusts, he finally erupted in your mouth with a groan. You felt your throat swell with the warm, salty substance as you inhaled through your nose and swallowed it down eagerly. He continued to reach his high and you continued to suck, making sure you swallowed every last drop until he could no longer take it anymore, his body going weak from the overstimulation.
You finally released him with a soft pop when he started to relax. You felt his hand brush over your face gently while you stayed on your knees, right between his thighs. A blissed-out, tired smile pulled at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you in wonder.
You smiled back at him. A gentle haze lingered in his eyes, his brown orbs seeming a little bit brighter. His tousled hair, touched by his erratic movements because he couldn’t keep still, framed a face illuminated by a serene glow. His features were a beauty beyond the physical, leaving you utterly captivated.
He was so damn pretty, and the best thing was—he was your pretty boy.
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anantaru · 1 year
Text
— rejecting his cuddles
rejecting his cuddles feat. al-haitham, cyno, diluc, scaramouche x gn! reader
a/n: i spontaneously wrote this after coming home from a night out while craving fluff and cute things
genre: fluff, we're a lil bad for messing with them but who cares, right
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— al-haitham
"no thanks!"
you couldn't possibly reject his attempt to cuddle you right now, or could you?
at first, al-haitham‘s smile will slowly drop, not at the reason you might think because he actually is sure this has a deeper meaning, right?
jokes aside, actually he had you figured out from the start but wanted to see how far you would go, putting on the best fake facade one could pull off, it's almost as if he was a natural at deceiving people.
"no.. thanks?" al-haitham was quite impressed on how you managed to reject him this smoothly, it even hurt a little if he was being honest.
He wasn't stupid though, he was aware you were clearly messing with him, his little angel could be a little brat sometimes, that's what he cherished and loved about you as well.
maybe.. he should just try again, right?
with that in mind, al-haitham opened his arms again to advance towards your body to close the distance only for you to wiggle yourself away before he could catch up to you.
"no thanks, i‘m good!"
okay, maybe you were quite cruel today, you honestly didn‘t think much of it and wanted to tease your boyfriend, it was mostly him who would triumph over you so it was natural for some payback here and there.
curiosity got the best of you and that‘s why you were pushing your little scheme a bit further than you actually anticipated to do in the first place, seeking a reaction from your boyfriend.
the second rejection was a literal whiplash right into his face, but then it went clear as day to him, the solution to all of this warmly greeting him.
"okay."
if you could play such game, he surely could do so as well, he deducted that if he was to ignore you now, your fake facade would fall within seconds.
how else were you supposed to keep playing this with him not giving you any attention anymore?
al-haitham was about to get up from his seat as you quickly grabbed his wrist, holding him down.
"okay i was joking don‘t go!"
the slight worry on your face was hilarious to him, how he knew you like the back of his hand was almost scary. In his eyes there wasn‘t anything easier than figuring you out.
"you should stop messing with me before i‘m thinking of a way to get back at you."
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— cyno
the general mahamatra had a busy life, cyno was on duty every day and once he got home after a long night, the least you could do is hug him!
today you felt like you should play a little trick on him, just for a quick giggle in your relationship. Contrary to popular belief, cyno was actually an overly humorous person, even though his jokes mostly didn‘t land as he intended them to.
with that you heard the front door open with cyno following suit. You decided to greet him as always and walked towards your boyfriend as he tiredly smiled into your direction, already opening his arms.
"how was your day?"
normally you would‘ve hugged him first and then ask him a question, but today you stood right in front of him without drawing yourself into his embrace.
"it was good, come here." once cyno noticed you weren‘t moving an inch, he thought he should be the one to just hug you instead, yet after attempting to do just that …
"no thanks."
there was an awkward silence followed by cyno looking at you in slight disbelief and irritation. His eyes were low lidded and his expression tired, he really just wanted a hug!
"okay, i understand and respect it, but i don't agree with it."
typical cyno, now that you think back at it you don't really know how you expected him to respond to you. He was a gentleman at heart and immensely respected you.
yet though he didn‘t let it on, this was truly the worst thing that happened to him, yet he obviously doesn‘t want to force you either.
with a flash of guilt throwing itself at you like a fierce force, you quickly stopped him with a big hug from behind, resting your head on his back with your arms tightly shut around him.
"i‘m just messing with you, i‘m sorry."
ending your little sentence with a tiny giggle to soothe the mood, cyno turned around to face you at last, looping his arms around your body in return.
"hah, funny."
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— diluc
in any other case diluc wouldn't think too much of it, but the way you were denying his physical affection did throw him off in an unnatural amount.
"no thank you, i'm satiated."
"satiated?" the word blurted out of his mouth in an irritated way, he became confused and unable to recall what the most alarming aspect of this situation was right now.
the fact you didn't want his cuddles, which you once stated were the absolute best, or the fact that you stated you were quote on quote, satiated.
satiated by who?
the urge to throw himself into your embrace was always there, but he didn't want to make you uncomfortable. Diluc was patient with you and so were you with him.
yet he would lie if he didn't feel worried about this, the poor guy having not a single chance of noticing that you were clearly messing with him out of sheer boredom.
as a matter of fact, you didn't intend to go this far, nor did you think diluc would grow this anxious now, making up your mind you decided to end your little play after all as he spoke again.
"is something wrong? if i did something you must speak to me."
noticing how he shifted his eyes around the room, the guilt consumed you from within with your hands quickly grabbing his waist to draw him towards your warm body.
"I'm so sorry, i was trying to mess with you don't worry please."
with a momentary silence and his body frozen, he sighed in relief upon snuggling close to you, feeling the fastened beat of his heart, or was it yours?
"hmpf, maybe i shouldn't hug you for a while."
your eyes widened at his overly cheeky, teasing wording, your lips carved into a pout as you searched for his face, placing your hands on his shoulders.
"it was kaeya's idea, not mine!"
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— scaramouche
it wasn't often for scaramouche to search for a hug, not that he didn't want to hug you but he still wasn't completely accustomed to it, to trust a person again and simply relax under their touch.
one might say you were cruel for even thinking of pranking him, because who knows how he would react?
you, will now, know, this sliding second, when he suddenly came back from a long boring day, wiggling himself out of his shoes before he came walking towards you.
it became a slight habit of yours to hug whenever one of you would meet the other so scaramouche didn't think too much of it, he was actually looking quite forward to cuddle with you, so when he finally reached his desired destination, you backed away.
"lets not."
his brow raised almost immediately with his eyes lightly scrunched together in irritation, "lets not .. what?"
his voice had an annoying edge, the one you knew far too well. Sometimes scaramouche involuntarily spoke like that, he didn't even mean to come off as rude but it was a natural thing laced in his tone.
"i don't want a hug, thank you for the kind offer though."
the dazed look of bewilderment on his face was adorable, you felt bad for even finding it cute in the first place as scaramouche continued to tilt his head to the side, rambling in a low murmur.
"i don't buy it, you're the one who can't get enough of my hugs so what are you planning this time?"
his arms crossed around his body, a smirk of his brought out a sense of mischief he was way too good at, a fleeting thought of innocent fun.
in that moment he closed the distance to you almost completely, his eyes piercing daggers into your soul when he spoke once again.
"can you hug me now or what, i don't have all day for this."
the click of his tongue was all it took you to understand that he had figured you out yet again. in all honesty, you didn't know what you expected in the first place.
with a giggle announcing itself out of your throat, you quickly gathered him in your arms, nuzzling him into your warm chest.
scaramouche returned your call and embraced you back with his arms tightly clamped around your body, the pressure applied behind it made it difficult for you to breathe, he was practically clamping onto you.
in that moment you noticed how his breathing was erratic and uneven as well, as if for one tiny second, he really did think he had done something to pain you, something to lose you.
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©2022 anantaru do not share, copy, translate
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thefantasyden · 2 months
Text
Stray Kids reaction to you fighting sub space
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BDSM themes, descriptions are based off my personal experience but yours may be different! Sub space is not the same for everyone.
NSFW content as always ♡
Chris:
Chris takes a minute to notice the change in your behaviour. He'll reach over to pet your head or something and feel you tense up under his touch, your leg bouncing as you try to keep yourself grounded. He had asked you to come to his studio to keep him company, and you didn't want to be clingy while he was working. The second it clicks to him that you weren't letting yourself slip he'd be pulling you into his lap, his hands wrapping around you in a tight bear hug before he's planting silly, exaggerated kisses all over your face. He knows you need reassurance, and he is the king of pushing all the right buttons, lovingly coaxing you into that sweet, cloudy relief.
"Babyyyyyy you know how much I love taking care of you. You'll be good for me and let me do it, right? It makes me feel needed."
Lee Know:
He isn't having it one bit. He knows that there's always a reason when you start slipping, and it's almost always because you're overwhelmed. He's so used to you letting yourself fall when he's around that he's more shocked when you don't. He'd see you fidgeting and acting restless, and it doesn't matter what you're doing or where you are, he's calling you over and telling you to kneel for him. He knows you will, because you want to please him. His hand would only be petting your head for a second before he's wrapping his hand gently around your throat. It's not enough to choke you, but the pressure is just perfect enough to push you deeper into his willing arms.
"Don't ever do that again. I don't like it. You're mine, you know I'll always give you what you need."
Changbin:
He's honestly clueless until he makes you say it outright. All he knows is that you're quieter than usual and you aren't giving him your full attention, so he'll stare you down and ask you whats wrong until you admit that you need to let go for a bit but you're scared of annoying him. He'd be a bit upset that you think you're even capable of annoying him, and he'd be holding your head with his hands on your cheeks, a pout playing on his lips as he scolds you. He's quick to kiss you and will pull you into his lap so that you're straddling him and can't move away.
"I can't believe you'd ever think about my Bunny like that. That's just mean. My Bunny is perfect, and I think I need to remind you of that, hmmm?"
Hyunjin:
He notices that you're tense and jittery, but he doesn't address it immediately. He wants you to communicate it to him properly (because he knows it'll push you further in) and he will encourage your need to submit by resting his hand near your neck or standing near you when you're sitting, although any position that has him towering over you will work. He is very proud of you when you finally tell him what you need and what your thoughts are, kissing your hands before his lips meet yours. Hes pressing his body against yours before you know it, lips readily exploring the skin of your neck and trailing anywhere that sparks their interest. He's gonna shower you with praise and compliments and help wipe those annoying thoughts straight out of your pretty brain.
"That's my angel. So good to me, aren't you? My sweet, needy baby. I love it when you're like this."
Han:
He's pouting. He's whining, and he's scolding you like you've personally hurt him (which he believes you have). You and Jisung are always VERY open about your needs, and when you struggle with anxious thoughts like this, he really takes it to heart since he empathises with it so deeply. He'll lay his entire body on top of yours and whisper how much he loves you and how you're the best thing that's ever happened to him and he wants you to know you're safe with him always. You're his partner in crime, his chaos coordinator, and if you don't feel good, he doesn't feel good. Once he's done with his lecture, he's dragging you up and toward the bathroom so he can get you into a warm bath. He likes washing your hair and body for you because it makes you feel even more submissive and also gives him an excuse to grope you all over.
"My poor baby. Can't believe I left you to be all needy by yourself. Gonna make it up to you, ok?"
Felix:
Your sub space was something new to your relationship, so Felix would understand why you'd be anxious. He's very keen on your needs and is quick to notice any change in your behaviour, so he doesn't miss the dazed look on your face or the frustrated noises that you don't realise you're making. He'll reach up to pet your head in the same manner you'd do for him and whisper that it's okay if you're feeling needy. He'd tell you that he'll take care of you, that he wanted to take care of you. He'll gently massage your scalp in the most delightful, soothing way, and it's impossible for you not to let go when he's so caring and sure of himself. He coos at you a lot when you do finally give in, and he can never stop the cheesy smile on his face when he sees how dreamy you look.
"I think you're so cute like this. My happy little star. I wanna see more of it, ok?"
Seungmin:
Minnie is definitely upset because you should KNOW he doesn't mind. He's always lovingly bullying you, but you KNOW he doesn't mean it. He knows you know. The tell for him would be when he rolls his eyes at you with some half hearted quip about you being a pest and you dont't respond with the same energy, your nails picking at the skin of your fingers. He'd glare at you for a moment before making his way over, crouching down in front of you and staring up at you with a glare. He tells you that it's really mean of you not to want to submit to him. He doesn't mean it, of course, but he knows that a little push is what you really need. Might make a comment to you about how you must not think very highly of him, and he is reeling when he sees your eyes get all watery as you scramble to tell him that you just need him so very badly. He reassures you once you're there, but he's also quick to pinch your thigh in warning.
"If you do that again I'm not gonna be very nice, ok? Only I get to have you like this and I think I deserve to see it as often as possible."
I.N:
He's not very well versed in body language, so he would end up accidentally upsetting you by ignoring you in favour of whatever game he was playing, only responding when he hears a frustrated cry leave you. He's confused at first but he gets the gist of your babbling when he hears 'stressed' and 'can't think' and hes willing to pause what he was doing, motioning for you to come sit on his lap. He frowns at you and tells you that he needs you to let him know what's going on. For him, knowing you were wanting to submit would be a huge turn-on, and he isn't in control of how hard he gets with you sitting on his lap teary-eyed. He's going to use the moment to try out any accessible fantasy that you'd mentioned to him, wanting you to enjoy the experience so that he could have you that way the next time you felt needy.
"You wanna be my toy? Aw baby, you should have asked. You know I'm always ready to make you cry if you need it.."
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he set my house on fire, you lit my heart ablaze; when the smoke cleared, you stayed, coughing up ash with me.
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jh86 x reader: the revenge plot doesn't go as planned (ft. ex-fiance am34).
(warnings: blasphemous filth (it's on the tamer side, i think), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), spit and descriptions of bodies and stuff like that, hair pulling (big fan), lots of talk about toxic relationships and being mean and using people and sad moments (we can thank this fictional am34 for that), oh, and slight bullying of tz11). idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)
(a/n: hello, favorites. thank you so, so much for your patience and softness. today i bring you a story that took me so, so long because i worked so, so hard on it (and it's really long! 14k worth). we have checked all the boxes: terrible ex-fiance am34, sweet boy jh86, schemes and plots and the like. no, i don't think any of these characters are like this in real life. no, nobody acts like this, but it's getting colder, so i think a lot of us are craving that gentle domesticity. and yes, i wish someone had shown up with flowers after i finished undergrad midterms. there's probably a ton of plot holes but shh! don't tell anyone. also tried out a new format, the smut is in the middle instead of the end, let me know how you feel about that. anyways, i miss you and i love you and i think of you often and fondly. i hope you and your snakes are doing well and knowing what you deserve and accepting nothing less. let me know what you think, what you want next, etc. go canucks, of course. oh, and no, i do not think it's a coincidence that all the guys i write about are having a great season so far (except the ducks that refuse to play). how could it be? definitely a causal connection. all my love to you. until next time).
since you were a young girl, you had known that your greatest motivation, your deepest truth, perhaps your fatal flaw, was just how deeply you felt.
when you were little, that meant tears came easily, anger festered like weeds in a prized garden, and happiness felt like flying.
it also meant you could read others' emotions almost as clearly as your own.
it made you different, it made you a good friend, it made you the person you were. for much of your life, you had made peace with the fact that your well of emotions went deeper than others. you had loved that part of yourself, even.
but the night you broke off your engagement to auston matthews, you wanted nothing more than for everything you were feeling to disappear, to evaporate into the air as if it had never been.
"you couldn't've at least tried to hide it from me?" you had said, willing your fragile voice not to break.
and he had sat at the kitchen counter, that massive body on the stool that you had carefully selected for the house that you shared, that you thought you would share forever. and he had sighed, sounded almost annoyed. "would that have made it better, angel?"
his indifference coated your bones like lead paint. that name, once one you felt would call you out of a coma, would lead you out of hell like a northern star, now felt like nothing but a condescending, patronizing taunt. silly, stupid angel, the god might as well have said, how could you think you could ever be enough?
understanding settled like ash on your eyelashes. "you think i'll forgive you," you said, little more than a whisper. "you think i won't leave."
he scoffed at that, then. at you. "and go where?" he asked, sounding almost genuine. "where do you have to go?"
how superficially he knew you, it seemed, at that moment. how had you not seen this before?
"you honestly think i could ever look at you the same?" you asked.
he shrugged, his shoulders so imposing, stature so suddenly frightening. a body you knew better than your own, suddenly foreign. a ghost. "maybe differently, but still looking," he said, "your eyes have only ever followed me, angel."
and maybe he was right, but you were done proving him so.
"send my things to my parents' place," you said, cold, devoid of anything. emotion welled up in you like a flood, but you froze it before it could crest through your mouth, come out like some mythical fire-breathing dragon. you slipped off your ring, placed it on the counter.
you didn't feel lighter without it, though. you felt so devastatingly heavy, like cinder blocks were tied to your ankles, like liquid stone filled your head.
"are you kidding?" he asked. to your silence, careful pause, he tilted his head, shook it once. "you're just gonna quit?"
your hands were shaking. you could feel rage rattle through your body, shake your bones. you clenched your fist so tightly you wondered if blood would drip from your palms, stain the light hardwood floor that you had spent so long deciding on. "how dare you," you said, begging your quivering lip to still.
his smirk was cruel. "not like it matters," he mused. "you've never been able to quit me."
you had seen him mean. on the ice, sometimes to journalists, sometimes to fans, sometimes to you, even. but this was past mean. this was past elementary bullying, past joking insults that don't land. he was trying to call your bluff, trying to push you into forgiveness, trying to hurt you.
"watch me," you said, your voice made of ancient rock.
"are you mad because she's hotter than you?" he asked, his brow contorted in false concern. "is that it?"
despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your mouth. a smile that made your eyes glitter. a smile that should have scared him. a warning.
"she is beautiful," you conceded, because she was. what good would it do you to deny that? you approached him, then, in his personal space for what you believed would be the last time. he turned to you, your eyes meeting in a clash, like sword on sword. cruel, brutal arrogance and pure, pretty wrath. you held the side of his face in one palm, the other hand resting on his shoulder. "but when a beautiful person hits on me, auston, i say no."
his eyes flickered down to your mouth, simmering with lust. you laughed at this, at him, raw and true, let pity soak your tone like acid. "i'm not mad at her, auston," you admitted truthfully. "i'm not even mad at you." you patted his cheek, perhaps a little harder than you needed to. "i'm just so disappointed."
that had been weeks ago. you had moved back to the states, so embarrassed on the plane at how you couldn't stop the tears from flowing, until finally you were back with your parents in new jersey. they had welcomed you so warmly, so easily. it had taken a few weeks for the tears to finally slow, for the utter devastation to fade, for your red eyes to brighten again.
at first, it had been hard to remember anything but how his embrace felt like home, how tightly he hugged you after games, how his eyes shone when he laughed, how he had teared up when you had accepted his proposal, how he had gushed about picking the right ring.
but as the sadness faded, as it festered into something much more serious, you remembered less of the fairytale moments, less of his perfect smile, less of the "pretty girl" utterances in his rough bedroom rasp. soon the sadness gave way to steely rage, to an almost bloodthirsty need for revenge. for him to hurt the way he had hurt you.
and no one does bloodthirsty like a group of university-age girls. after catching up with your childhood friends, and getting them caught up on your situation, you looked at your confidants with eager eyes. "what do i do?"
your best friend from high school spoke first, banging her fist on the table. "burn his house down?" she offered. "steal his dog?"
her friend from college put a gentle hand over her fist, "i think for now we try to avoid the federal crimes," she said, then turned to you. "when my ex cheated on me, i got with the lead singer of his favorite band." her eyes shimmered. "and then bought his dream car and wrapped it pink."
you giggled in delight. "oh, you're good."
your childhood friend nodded. "phycological warfare." she looked at you. "who's his idol?"
you thought for a moment, tapped your fingers on the table. "i don't know if idol is what i should be going for," you thought out loud.
"who's someone who would make him uncomfortable? insecure?"
"his dad!" your friend said, making you shake in a laugh.
"his biggest insecurity is the spotlight leaving and not coming back," you told them. you had known that for a long time.
"being forgotten?" your friend asked.
"being replaced," you said, your eyes widening with understanding. "with someone better. more promising." you shared a look with your friends, felt anger solidify into a plan. into hope.
"you look like you have someone in mind."
a memory flashed across your mind like a shooting star, engulfed in flame.
"how was the game, aus?" you had asked when he got home, stirring the pot of soup on the stove.
you heard some kind of grumble as he dropped his things in the mudroom, made his way into the kitchen.
"what's wrong?" you asked when you met his eyes, sensing something wrong like smoke in the air.
"just this young kid," he muttered. "'s nothing, really."
and you knew then that it wasn't just nothing, because he never tried to hide things from you, to diminish his feelings, unless it was really bothering him.
you turned the stove off, approached him, wrapped your arms around his middle and hugged him tight. "who's this new kid?" you asked, muffled by his chest.
his arms pulled your closer, tighter. this had always been where you felt warmest, safest. "some h name," he muttered. "hicks? hughes, maybe?"
you smiled into his chest, knowing him, and knowing he would never have forgotten the name of this kid. knowing auston matthews never forgets people who make him feel like anything other than the world's brightest star.
"whoever he is, probably just had the game of his life," you had said, your voice a comforting lullaby. you had pressed yourself up on your tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "nothing to worry about, yeah?"
he had smiled back at you, but something dark had swirled behind his gaze. something like knowing, like ominous understanding, like an empire, falling. "already forgotten, angel," he had said, but you knew, even then, that he was lying.
the memory fizzed and dissolved like baking soda in vinegar.
you looked at your friends and smiled. "what do you guys know about jack hughes?"
from there it was surprisingly easy to shift from a tangent line outside jack hughes's circle to someone inside of it. you were patient, too, careful not to rush. you wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect, after all, refused to enact any plan that wouldn't end in exactly the revenge you sought.
one of the other wags from toronto, whom you had grown close to, insisted on helping, giving you the numbers of some friends close to the devils.
"i'm honestly so, so proud of you for leaving," she had told you over the phone, her voice nothing but genuine, knowing. "all of us, we all knew you were way too good for him."
"did you?" you asked, maybe a little shocked. having been so completely deceived, so absolutely blind, for so long, it was interesting that others had not been as deluded as you. to hear their perspective, to see what you had not been able to before.
"sweetheart," she said, gently, "everyone who meets you can see that you're good. that you deserve someone good." there was a pause. "and everyone also sees that he was never that."
you let her words settle like glitter on a childhood craft. "thank you," you said. "i miss you."
"we miss you so much. see you soon?"
you agreed, thanked her for her help.
"i hope he's good," were her closing words. "maybe better, at least."
having started classes with your old friends, intent on finishing the degree you had so quickly and thoughtless abandoned for auston, you had ample time to plot.
"feels like we're in a spy movie, or something," your friend had said excitedly.
"we'll be your guys in the chair," the other chimed in. "here the whole way."
the rest of the initial plan came easily, with the help of the people who were on your side, which you quickly learned was a group made up of more people than you thought.
very soon, it was time for step one, and you were in front of your mirror, having just finished getting ready, your friends by your side.
you took a deep breath. "what if this isn't a good idea?" you whispered.
they squeezed at your hands. "no going back now, okay? we'll be there the whole time."
"what if he's not interested?"
"look at yourself," one of them said, "don't be stupid."
"what is he thinks i'm a crazy stalker?"
your oldest friend shrugged, her eyes full of mischief. "what if you are?"
so you found yourself at a dingy, run down bar, the lights low. according to your contacts, this was where the team and their friends came after home games.
when was the last time you had come to a bar looking for something? for someone? it felt distantly familiar, but so strange, like hearing a language you spoke as a child but that hadn't graced your tongue in decades.
you had been with auston for years, after all, having met him when you were 19, him 23. a whirlwind, a tornado, a perfect tempest of pink dust and white teeth. a proposal two years later, a break off a year further.
you were 22 now, and had never felt further from your nineteen-year-old self. a foolish child, a delicate doll, a phantom cloaked in a desperate desire for acceptance, for love.
you didn't know how to flirt in this new body, new being. you didn't even really know to how flirt with anyone but auston - it had been so long since you wanted anyone else. and you didn't even really want jack, at this point. you just wanted justice.
a cluster of motion and noise behind you ripped you from your thoughts. you didn't turn, though, just stirred your drink, let the liquid settle again until you could see yourself in the reflection. until you could make out your eyes, until you could plead with your mouth to tell you what to say.
a game, the beautiful girl mouthed to you, a secret code, it's only a game.
your hazy eyes caught on a pool table in the corner of the bar, vacant, the lamp above it flickering. you smiled to yourself, made your way over, picked out a cue, ran your fingers along the edge of it.
you took a sip of your drink before setting it down, lining yourself up to break. with a swift, even motion, a pleasant cracking noise rung out, colorful balls moving in different directions.
you scrunched up your nose, having sunk none initially, gracefully lining up to go again when you felt a few figures approach.
the first one who spoke, the one right next to you, was not someone you recognized. you didn't even think he was on the team, but he had the build of a hockey player, probably a quick center.
"need a private lesson, there, sugar?" he asked sleazily, his voice the arrogant drawl of a child, almost endearing in its steadiness. he leaned on the table as you looked up at him, straightened, tilted your head to rest against the cue.
"awful kind of you, coach of the year," you teased before nodding to the other person who had joined you, looming across the table like a shadow. "gonna help me beat your friend?"
your new coach scoffed, ran a hand through his long, unruly hair. "trust me, sugar," he said, "you don't need any help beating him."
you locked eyes with the figure across the table, whom you had only seen before on a screen, the one you had heard about in the arms of your ex-fiance. here he was, the soft contours of his face shimmering in the dim light. the mythical and heroic jack hughes, the shaker of the unshakeable auston matthews.
he was shorter than you expected. "not much of a competitor, is he?" you asked the man next to you, talking about jack as if he wasn't right there. as if you hadn't been looking at him the entire time. "doesn't like to play?"
you tilted your head, dared him with your eyes to prove you wrong. the familiar fire of flirtation, of the chase you hadn't engaged with in years flared when he took a step out of the shadows, letting you see him clearly and up close.
during your research, you had seen pictures of him, but they didn't do him even a semblance of justice. he was gorgeous in a fairytale prince sort of way, like he might save the day with a true love's kiss at any moment. his eyes were a striking blue, his nose almost dainty, his jaw angular. your gaze caught on his full mouth before finally landing on his eyes again. he had the kind of complexion and expression you could tell lit up when he smiled. your stomach twisted at the thought. a game, you repeated in your mind. only a game.
"i'll play," he said simply, his voice goofy in a way you weren't used to. not sleazy, like his friend, who was currently behind you while you bent forward, lining up the cue. it wasn't the classic baritone you were used to hearing in auston, but something more cautious, something sweeter.
the game progressed, each of you sinking shots with the tell-tale soft thud. it was his long-haired friend, the one who kept calling you sugar like you were some southern belle, who was much closer to you, who was adjusting your hips and arm placement before each turn, who was flirting with you so openly, his breath hot on your neck, his gaze open and obvious.
even then, a quick exchange of glances with jack felt much more intimate than any innuendo-filled comment and fumbling touch from his friend. whenever jack would sink a ball, his eyes would flutter up to meet yours in a fleeting catch of flame, of promise, of knowing.
with only a few balls still on the green felt of the table, his careful voice broke you from your trance. "what are we playing for?" he asked, eyes alight.
the look you shared was teasing, probing, yet deadly serious. this is everything, the look said. are you ready to give everything?
"how about this?" you began, your tone light and smoky. "if you win, you get my number." his full mouth quirked upwards in the slightest of smirks. "and if i win, i give it to him," you finished, nodding towards his sugar-spewing friend.
jack looked at his friend. "good with you, z?" he asked.
his friend, z, you guessed, let a cocky smirk drape across his face like velvet curtains. "more than good," he said, "as we're gonna win."
with the stakes agreed upon, the game continued until only the eight ball remained. you lined yourself up, your ever-so-involved coach just next to you as you called your pocket.
"have a game, sugar, here we go."
you ignored his friend's voice, lining your cue up perfectly, the smooth wood resting delicately between your fingers, the angle of your arm and neck smooth and sensual. everything about your preparation lent itself to a winning strike, everyone at the table knew it. you could feel it in z's early celebration, see it in the slight quiver of jack's hand.
bent over the table, in the final seconds before your strike, you peered up at jack through dark lashes, all dim light and foggy promise. you gave him a sly smirk as you followed through, the black and white ball missing the pocket by an inch, hitting the side of the table with a soft sound.
jack narrowed his eyes at you with a curious sort of look before quickly calling his pocket and immediately sinking the ball.
his friend sucked on his teeth before throwing up his hands in defeat. "christ, sugar, didn't take you for a choke artist," he said. "unless you're into that." he shot you a wink before heading off to grab a drink.
for the first time, it was just you and jack. you leaned on your cue, let your gaze fall over him lazily, in the same way you knew he was doing to you. he was close now, close enough that you could see how blue his eyes were, how long his lashes, how high and soft his features, how his hair was just a little too long on the sides.
"you let me win," he said, a gentle observation, not anything accusatory.
you smiled. "prove it," you said, to which a matching smile graced his own face.
"must be my lucky night, then," he said as he handed you his phone and you typed your number in.
you laughed. "i don't know," you mused, "you seem like a guy who's used to getting what he wants." and he did seem like that - who could say no to those pretty eyes?
he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, a motion you tracked. "'m a guy used to earning what he wants," he corrected, and you hummed. a distinction that auston had never made, even though he worked hard, sure. but he was a natural. what would it be like to be with someone to whom everything didn't come just so, so, easily?
"like to work for it, hm?" you teased.
his gaze dropped to your mouth for a second before returning to your eyes.
you stepped forward, pushed and poked at the imaginary line between the two of you. you looked up at him, gently swiped at his cheekbone with your thumb, felt heat rumble between the two of you, something volcanic. "don't work yourself too hard, yeah?"
without a second glance, you placed your cue against the table, grabbed your bag and made for the door.
on your way out, you overhead the conversation that had erupted in your exit.
"i was the one talking to her the whole time," that long-island-ish drawl said.
"if you think she was into you for even a second, you're an idiot," jack replied.
you swore the door was chuckling as it shut behind you.
everything had gone exactly as you'd hoped, exactly as you'd known it would, so you weren't at all surprised to receive a text the next day asking if you were around that night to get a drink.
so you found yourself at a different bar, this one a bit more upscale, quickly spotting jack as he waited for you outside. you blew out a breath as you approached, as a smile made his face glow. it was still so new to find someone else beautiful. when would you get used to his imperfect teeth, his oceanic eyes, his feminine nose, this greek sculpture opposed to autson's roman one?
you blinked. "hi," you said, suddenly feeling lame.
his mouth quirked. "hey." he opened the door for you, nodded. "after you."
"i'm gonna warn you," you started as you ducked past him and into the building. "i haven't been on a date in a while."
he shoved his hands in his pockets, a juvenile habit that made you blush. "find that hard to believe," he said, his tone playful. "pretty girl like yourself."
you scrunched up your nose at that. pretty girl. auston had called you that so many times, but for the first time you actually thought about its meaning. something flipped in your stomach at jack calling you pretty, but it was the girl part that had you pausing for a moment.
you were a girl, pretty much, you were jack's age, but you hadn't felt like one in so long. maybe it was being with someone a little older, but you felt almost ancient, so tired, so drained. but here you were, on a date, every bit the pretty girl he had deemed you.
you just laughed, taking a seat at the counter, smoothing out your dress against your legs. "real sweet talker, are you?" you joked, turning to him and meeting his eyes.
his mouth quirked like he knew something you didn't. "somethin' like that," he said.
the night went by fast, conversation flowing easily, no sign of pressure or anything of the like. you asked about his career, what he did that day, his family, his friends. he made you laugh, and it came so easily, so fluidly. he asked you about what you liked to do, what you were studying in school, how you were enjoying jersey.
surprisingly, you found yourself wanting to be completely honest with him, even though you couldn't be. you found yourself wanting to tell him everything, to answer any question he asked, to never leave him wishing or wanting even for a second.
you got hung up on the curve of his upper lip, on the slope of his shoulders under his button down, on his girlish laugh, his firefly of a smile.
the night was over too soon. too soon, you had the sinking feeling that you were in over your head, that perhaps you had chosen the wrong person for your revenge plot. you wanted to hurt auston, after all, but not yourself. certainly not this shimmery spark of a boy in front of you.
he walked you out, both of you pausing outside the bar, under the dull streetlight, a theatre spotlight for your praiseworthy performance.
you turned to look at him, and him at you, sinking into each others' gazes like quicksand, the air thick with expectation.
"i don't kiss on the first date," you blurted out, talking to his lips, talking to yourself.
he smiled, his shoulders rumbling in a laugh. "'s okay," he breathed, "like to work for it, remember, baby?"
you shook your head as your cheeks erupted in a delighted rosy flush. "goodnight, jack," you said, your voice every bit the giveaway. he returned the sentiment with a knowing grin.
the next day, you invited your girls over to watch him play. as you all settled on the couch, a homemade cocktail in your hand, you couldn't help but hide your face when the camera lingered on his profile during the anthem.
one of your friends gave a mock-salute. "god bless america," she said, shaking her head as you threw a pillow at her.
"alright," you chastised.
"what?" she asked, raising a brow, "just appreciating the wonderful offerings of our country."
your other friend shook her head. "you don't usually go for guys like him, eh?" she asked. "i mean, ever since we were in middle school you always went for the guys with biceps bigger than my face." she held her hands in front of her face for visualization.
"'s not like he's tiny," you said, almost embarrassed.
"no, no," she amended, "but he's no auston. he's just, i don't know, pretty."
you smiled, knowing exactly what she meant. auston was so masculine in every way, and jack was softer, somehow, pretty in a way you didn't usually go for.
pretty in a way that made you smile at your phone when he texted you the next day, asking if he could cook you dinner later that week.
you were blushing to yourself, the morning of, after he had texted you asking if you had any dietary restrictions.
and you didn't, but wasn't it just the sweetest, most thoughtful thing to ask? would you have even thought to ask?
i want you to be comfortable, his text said, i want you to laugh with your mouth full in my kitchen.
careful, angel, a deep voice called from the back of your mind, from the inside of your teeth. this is about me, remember?
your fingers twitched with the reminder as you stood on his front stoop, waiting for jack to answer the bell. the air had a brisk twinge of a chill to it, a chill that had your nose turning pink and your feet stiffening in your boots.
but he answered the door, and the breath you blew out rose between the two of you like a misty curtain, one you resented, because it distorted your view of him, even just so.
the mist settled, and his smile was left in its wake.
a smile that silenced all the gossiping voices in your head, left the throne of their malevolent king vacant, abandoned.
"you're here," he breathed, almost like he couldn't believe it, like he couldn't believe you.
"and it's your fault," you teased, scrunching up your nose.
he shook his head, laughed at some joke in his mind, stepped aside. "you must be freezing, baby, come in."
the butterflies in your chest soared as he helped you shoulder off your coat, his fingers leaving just a ghost of a touch on your wrist, the back of your neck, leaving scorched skin behind. you shivered, took in his graceful figure hanging your coat up on a hook by the door, let a smile come easily to your face when he turned back to you.
"what?" he said, grinning.
you let out a half-laugh. "nothing," you said, looking around as you kicked your shoes off. anything to avoid the white-hot light of his undivided attention. "i like your place."
and you did like it, truly, it was just so unexpected. homely, not cluttered, but definitely not the modern, futuristic, almost barren aesthetic you can come to associate with successful hockey players.
he flashed you a shy smile as he led you into the kitchen, bowing his head, making his hair fall into his face, almost bashful. "it likes you too," he told you, swinging his hand up to hit the top of the doorframe like a basketball-obsessed middle-schooler. you bit your lip to stop your grin.
what a pleasure it was to get to know all the most intricate and intimate manners of someone new.
"everything's almost done, now," he said, quickly turning off the stovetop and peering through the glass of the oven.
his tone was much more at ease then when you had talked to him before. he was at home here, and you could tell. he wore home like a hand-me-down sweater, too big in the shoulders and worn in the elbows, but lovely and familiar in all of its comfort.
you sat atop a stool at his counter, nervously rubbing the sole of one foot into the top of the other. "thanks for cooking, jack," you said, "you really didn't have to do anything fancy, or anything." suddenly, sitting here in this space, surrounded by the evidence of his effort, you felt guilt settle deeply into your body. unworthiness, perhaps, of the smell of food in the air, of the drink he had poured for you so gently, of the smile he kept throwing your way.
that voice in your head huffed. look at all this, he said, look at the burden you are.
and you were feeling it, so heavily, until jack took a sip of his own drink and waved you off, furrowing his brow as if confused. "'s how a date works, right, baby?" he said. he tilted his head, teasing, "tellin' me no one's ever pulled out all the stops for you?"
and you laughed, shook your head, because you supposed it was, supposed no one really had.
you got to know each other even better over the meal he had cooked, surprising you once again with how easy everything felt between you.
"tell me what you did today," he might say, his voice soft, muffled from chewing.
and you might tell him about your classes, how midterms were coming up, how you were nervous but felt pretty good about most of them.
maybe then you would ask about practice that morning, to which he would tell you some story about his teammates, how they were giving it to him all morning.
"why?" you might ask, to which he would look up at you with that bashful flush.
"'cause they knew you were coming over tonight," he admitted, pushing broccoli around his plate. "kept saying how i was probably gonna make you a box of kraft or something."
you laughed, a genuine rumble from deep in your chest, tilting your head back. when you looked back at him, he was looking at you with something like wonder.
and maybe later, you would ask what his favorite part of his house was, and he would say it was his wall of framed pictures, which would make you melt a little bit, your heart a puddle of feeling.
too soon, you were setting down your fork and knife, crossing and uncrossing your legs in restlessness.
"did you like it?" he would ask, his voice so full of hope it could have killed you.
so full of hope that you reached across the counter to hold his hand in yours, if only for a moment, to squeeze his fingers in meaningful emphasis.
your touch caught him by surprise, hesitant for a moment before locking eyes with you, simmering, then squeezing your hand back in his warm, callused grip.
a grip that said i'm no natural, but i'll work for it. for you.
"it was perfect," you said honestly, because it was. "but please, please let me do the dishes," you pleaded, looking at him through your lashes, just wanting to do something to help.
it would feel so wrong to be doted on for the whole night while giving nothing in return. at the very least, it would feel foreign.
he shook his head playfully, but relented. "you can help," he conceded, "but 'm not letting a pretty girl clean up my mess by herself."
you scoffed with a smile, squeezed his hand a final time before pushing yourself off of your stool, gathering all the plates and glasses in a single go.
"where'd you learn how to do that?" he asked, genuinely, as he followed you to the sink.
you carefully set everything down in a graceful swoop, let your lips quirk upwards in nostalgia. "once a waitress, always a waitress," you explained, referring to your short-lived stint at a busy restaurant in toronto before auston insisted on you staying home.
and at the time, even a little now, it was a sweet gesture, one you had taken as him wanting you to relax, wanting you to have the freedom to do whatever you wanted with your days.
you just secretly wished he had considered that what you wanted to do with your days was working, going to school, doing something for yourself.
jack leaned on the edge of the counter, his lopsided grin like an electric jolt to your heart. "what, did they show you the door 'cause you were making all the tips?" he teased, nevertheless making you blush as you washed the plates with soap. "not fair for everyone else, 's that it?"
you gasped in dramatic accusation, flicking sudsy water from your fingers his direction. "how dare you?" you exclaimed before turning away from him in a huff, feigning sadness. "'s not like i can control this face."
his mouth widened in shock, then took on a scheme-filled smile as soon as the water hit him, a short laugh escaping him. "you didn't," he said, dipping his hand in the soap and flinging some at you.
you squealed, holding your hands up to shield your face as he reached in for more, bubbles filling both of his palms. "wait, jack, i'm sorry!" you laughed. "i swear, i didn't mean to!"
"liar," he cooed, his gaze sparking like a lighter, you swore you could hear the clicking sound. then he was right in front of you, only a breath apart, so close you swore you could feel the beat on his heart in your own chest.
he reached down and gently held your face in his hands, the soap now all along your jaw and cheeks.
you closed your eyes for a second, sighed in defeat, still so aware of him so close, of his touch, feather-light on you skin.
when they opened again, you both had not moved, frozen in place, perhaps willed by the moment, compelled by the growing sensation of rightness, of being exactly where you were supposed to be. when he spoke, he was speaking to your lips, dragging his gaze back up to your eyes like it weighed something stark.
"do you kiss on the second date?" he breathed, and your breath caught, your heart stuttering at his utter politeness, his thoughtfulness, the idea that he remembered things you had told him.
you bit your tongue, because, if you were being honest, you usually didn't - you took the rule of threes very personally. you liked to take your time, savored that lovely period of what could be. besides, you had learned the hard way what happened when you let people in your life too quickly, too hastily. you knew all too well that giving in to a toothy smile and a sleeve of tattoos only led to shrugs met with tears.
but here, now, with jack's soapy hands on your face, in the space he had so warmly accepted you into, you had the feeling this boy in front of you was going to be an exception. that he would be an exception for many things, perhaps the exception.
as if hearing your internal dialogue loud and clear, he dipped his head down until he was impossibly close, so when he spoke you could feel the words on your lips.
"please let me kiss you, baby," he pleaded, his eyes hooded and heavy, his voice a rasp.
deciding he was an exception indeed, you answered him by pressing up on your toes, meeting his mouth with yours in a kiss that bruised.
and later, you would think about how auston had never been a please let me kiss you man, instead he had been a give me a kiss, angel kind of guy.
after, you would think about how it felt so much more personal, so much more sweet to be asked please, can i instead of being ordered give me, give me, give me, like a demanding, red-faced child.
later, you would think about how the previous kisses in your life paled in comparison to the feeling of jack's lips on yours. how before this moment, you were used to kisses that felt like transactions, like the necessary box being checked before the next step, how they felt like being swallowed.
after, you would swoon over all the details and nuances, but, right now, there was nothing but his lips, his hands, the way he melted into you and practically whimpered when you kissed him harder.
kissing him didn't feel like being swallowed, it felt like taking the biggest deep breath of your life after slowly suffocating for years. you forgot you had soap bubbles all over your face, you forgot about auston, you forgot about everything - there was only him, and you, in this moment.
he held your face like you were something precious, moving one hand into your hair as you wrapped your arms around his neck. he tasted like lemon and rosemary, as well as something so deliciously him you could feel yourself become addicted immediately.
his grip in your hair was soft, and when his lips moved against yours it felt like melting snow in the warmth of the morning, pure and sweet and natural and right. kissing him felt like waking up with sunlight streaming through the windows, like laughing while taking your makeup off, like cinnamon and clove and home.
when you pulled away from him, only just slightly, both of you catching your breath heavily, he opened his eyes slowly, almost reluctantly. his eyes were almost glazed over, and you had a feeling yours looked in a similar way, syrupy and hot.
he gently swiped his thumb along your swollen bottom lip as if testing to make sure you were real, not just some shadow, not just a dream.
you traced your nails along his neck, smiled as he brought his hands down to wrap around your middle, resting them on the small of your back.
"god, you're just so fucking pretty, aren't you?" he breathed, like a revelation.
you swore he had your head spinning for days after, days you unfortunately and cruelly had to spend apart due to a week-long road trip for the team.
you told yourself it was a good thing that he was going away for a bit, as it would give you a second to regroup, to revaluate, to familiarize yourself with what your initial goal was for your plan. you reminded yourself over the week apart that jack was a means to an end, that whatever had blossomed between the two you had a finish line, that all of it was meant to make a point, then hopefully leave this whole hockey world behind after the damage had been done.
but then one of your girls would throw on the game, and jack's expressive face would fill the screen, chewing on the fingers of his gloves during warm ups, and your heart would sink at the thought of leaving him behind. and it just about combusted at the idea that you were using him, even though that's exactly what you were doing.
you've only been on two dates with him, only kissed once, you reminded yourself. he's probably seeing other people, anyways, probably with some other girl right now. it's not like you're exclusive. this is probably not a big deal to him.
the thought was comforting but also devastating, a brick in your stomach.
while he was away, midterms came and went. as you walked into your last one, you thought about maybe texting jack after, trying to get together tonight, since he would finally be back.
then your pen hit the paper and time passed in a blur.
you exited the lecture hall in a flurry of relief and pride, happy to have accomplished something so concrete, something that you had truly worked hard on.
walking down the stairs outside of the entrance, your smile stilled, frozen in shock, when you looked up from your feet and saw a familiar, beautiful figure leaning against his car, an excited grin on his face, flowers in his grip as he locked eyes with you, making your breath catch.
"is that jack hughes?" some kid from your class said altogether too loudly to his friend. you had seen that same kid wearing devils gear more than once.
his friend didn't look up from his phone. "who's jack hughes?" he replied.
you couldn't stop your disbelieving laugh, your smile, already making your cheeks sore as you finished descending the stairs, until you were in front of him, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him in for a hug before you even realized what you were doing.
this was so unlike you, really, letting yourself feel as deeply as you could without filtering it, but anything else would have felt so wrong it could have killed you. especially when he brought his arms around you without even a second's hesitation, held you tight and close, so you could feel the petals of the flowers on the back of your neck.
"you're here," you said, breathlessly, still shocked, into his firm chest.
"had to make it back for your last test," he said into your hair, both of you not wanting to let go.
"how did you know?" you murmured, pulling away from him, only slightly.
he loosened his embrace, pulled away to get a look at you, let his eyes run over you carefully, indulgently. he pushed your hair back from your face, his touch gentle, like you were a relic, something worth treasuring. "you said so, last week," he said simply, like it was obvious.
he said it as if, for years of your life, you had wished and yearned so reverently for auston to remember the little things, like your coffee order, like the dates on which your parents were coming to visit, like your anniversary.
he said it as if it didn't mean the entire world that he had listened, that he had remembered.
you only leaned into his chest, looked up at him with something seriously dangerous in your eyes, something that was not supposed to be there. "'d you bring me flowers, jack?" you asked, a playful note in your tone.
he flushed, so lovely, hid his face behind the bouquet, peeking only one deep blue eye out, as if embarrassed. "too much?" he asked, still shielding his face.
you laughed, squeezed his bicep lightheartedly. "just enough," you assured him, your eyes full of meaning, willing him to lower his shield, let you see the face you had been dreaming of all week. "thank you. i missed you."
you would have told him that a thousand times just to see the way his whole face lit up, like he could never hide how happy your words made him. he wore the late afternoon sunshine like a dream, the dewy rays dripping down his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, slow and golden as honey.
he had this way of making you feel like you were first choice, every time, and it was so foreign that you hadn't known you had been craving it until he had laid it at your feet like an offering. every time he texted you to check in, to ask how your day was, to finalize plans, it would send a flurry of butterflies swarming your chest, a rosy flush to the bridge of your nose.
he was so, so beautiful, inside and out, that you effectively forgot what the whole point of your plan was in the first place. you basically had forgotten about it, that day that he dragged you along with some of his friends to pick out a christmas tree.
"do i know any of these friends?" you had asked on the way up, riding shotgun, reaching over periodically to run your nails along his neck, just below his hairline, your way of saying i'm happy you're here. and he would reach over and rest his hand on your thigh, not possessive, just a reminder of your presence. a reminder that made your insides twist with want, nonetheless, that made your gaze simmer.
one of the things you appreciated so genuinely about jack was that he didn't rush you for even a second, so happy to go at whatever pace made you most comfortable, whatever pace would keep you around the longest. it felt almost wrong that his acceptance of a slow pace made you want to speed things up, made you want to know what he felt like in your hands, what sounds he might make if you teased him, what his voice would sound like in your bed.
he let out a rumble of a laugh at your question, shaking you from your daze. "you'll definitely recognize one of them," he said. "though i don't know if he's fully recovered from your last meeting."
"oh no." you paled. "not him." you winced, thinking about how you had probably bruised his inflated ego. not beyond repair, though, you knew. for guys like that, never beyond repair.
jack traced circles on your thigh with his thumb in affirmation. "don't worry, baby," he said, "told 'm to be on best behavior."
when you arrived, you recognized that boisterous voice immediately.
"so good to see you again, sugar," he drawled, his tone especially toying.
you decided to cut any hard feelings immediately, going up to him and giving him a quick hug in greeting. "i think i owe you a thank you, coach of the year," you said, pulling away with a smile.
luckily, he seemed to forgive quickly, even to appreciate your efforts. "i prefer my thank yous in hot chocolate form," he said, and you promised to fulfill his request later. he gave you his name in exchange for yours.
you spent the afternoon leisurely ambling around the grounds, looking at potential trees, but really just enjoying the company of those around you.
most of the time, you spent laughing, tucked into jack's side, finding warmth in the firm feeling of his hip against your waist.
"what about this one?" trevor asked, holding up an especially short and stout one.
the two of you decided jack would need a taller one to better suit the ceiling proportions in his living room.
walking around, it felt like you were in your own dreamy winter wonderland, in a fog of laughter and warmth and a million other beautiful things.
"you leave again tomorrow?" you asked at one point, unable to hide the slight disappointment in your voice. you peered up at him, your eyes warm, your cheeks rosy from the cold.
he met your gaze and nodded, hugged you tighter into his side. "back in a few days," he said.
you couldn't help but pout just a little. jack's roadtrips felt longer and more lonely than auston's ever had.
jack ran his thumb along your bottom lip. "what's that for, baby?" he asked.
you shrugged. "just gonna miss you, 's all," you told him honestly.
something sweet bubbled up in his gaze, but the moment was effectively interrupted by trevor's voice coming from behind you, now shockingly close.
"oh?" he said, dramatic, "what's this? is that - mistletoe?" he emphasized all of his words with dramatic pauses. you briefly thought that maybe, if he hadn't been all in on hockey, he would have made an excellent theater kid.
you both turned to find trevor standing right behind you, holding an alarmingly large branch of something that resembled mistletoe.
"where did you find that?" jack asked his friend.
"never mind that," trevor said, waving him off.
you elbowed jack lightly. "looking for an excuse not to kiss me, are you?"
he shook his head incredulously, as if you had said something funny. you were about to tease him again, but he didn't give you the chance, immediately taking your face in his hands and angling his head down slightly to meet you in a kiss that seared every bit of chill from the air.
would you ever get used to this? would his lips ever not feel like they belonged on yours? would your heartbeat ever not thrum, like some perfect harmony?
the warmth of his hands on your face, the security of yours against the plane of his chest, all of it, everything - it was so perfect you wanted to stay here, just like this, forever. and the thought didn't even scare you as want began to pool inside of you, hot and heavy.
a mixture of a cough and a laugh had the two of you pulling away from each other. one of jack's other friends who had tagged along let out a low whistle, making you blush deeper.
jack just slung a heavy arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, pressing his lips to the top of your head.
luckily, trevor's attention had already strayed, as he was now holding the branch over his own head and the head of the other friend. "don't fight it!" he was calling out as the friend broke out into a light gait.
"get away from me, you scumbag," the poor kid called out over his shoulder.
your eyes were stuck on jack's face, still hazy from your kiss. he turned to you, his mouth quirking up. "staring, baby?" he said, low enough for only you to hear.
you nodded, shameless. "want you," you told him plainly, barely recognizing the tone of your own voice.
the fire in his own eyes welled up as you placed your hands flat on his chest. "fuck, now, baby?" he asked, looking around to where his friends chased each other around.
you bit your lip, pleaded him with your eyes. "please, jack," you said, "please take me home."
he took your hand in his immediately, tossed some parting words over his shoulder to his friends, who paused, watched the two of you stumble into jack's car with urgency.
as he started the engine and pulled away, you heard a faint the hell are we supposed to do with this tree?
the car ride back felt longer than it really was, both of you practically buzzing with want. you kept a hand in his hair, his palm planted firmly on the inside of your thigh, close but not close enough.
you let out a sigh of relief when he pulled into the driveway, let him pull you into the house, push you up against the closed door, kiss you again with heat and force and somehow, such softness.
it was the softness that filled you with want. his desire was obvious, especially when he pressed his hips up, hard against you, but that didn't mean he wasn't just so gentle with you, so in tune to what you wanted.
you fisted your hands in his hair, pulled until his posture faltered, until his lips parted further and he moaned into your mouth.
you hooked a leg around his hip to bring him closer, relished the way he began to rock against you.
"fuck, baby," he breathed out, strained, stuttering in places, "don't wanna fuck you against the door."
later, you would think about how auston had never had such a problem. he had never cared where you were, how uncomfortable a position had made you. sometimes you had thought he found his own bed boring.
but jack just pulled you into his room, lightly rocked you back onto the bed, pressed soft kisses down your jaw, your neck, your stomach. you both pushed and pulled clothes aside, looking to give the other as much access as possible.
"so fuckin' pretty," he mumbled against your stomach, making you flush all over.
"please, jack," you whined as he slowly dragged his fingers through your folds, making you shiver.
"what do you need, baby?" he asked, pumping himself a few times, up and down, his voice low and rough.
you sat up for a moment, took hold of his hand, peered up at him through your lashes as you spit into it.
he groaned, ran his hand over his cock, now glistening with your spit. desire glowed in your eyes like fireflies. "tell me," he begged.
you laid back on the bed again, the smell of him everywhere. another time, you would insist on feeling him in your mouth, maybe on feeling his mouth on you, but you knew the both of you were far too desperate for that.
"just need you inside me, baby, please," you said, your eyes raking over his figure above you, all gentle slopes and hard lines together.
"ask me so good, baby, so good for me," he said, a careful rasp. he thumbed your clit, making you jolt, dragging his fingers through you again before bringing them to his mouth. "and so ready, hm?"
you nodded feverishly, your mouth falling open as he finally pushed into you, his groan deep.
you whined, the stretch so surreal as you reached forward to grasp at his forearm, anything to ground you.
staying still in the stretch for a second, you waited for the feeling to weaken, but it didn't, not really.
he dropped his head, his exhale coming out shallow, the muscles in his shoulders constrained.
you tightened your grip on his forearm, let your nails dig into him to pull him back to you.
"fuck, baby, i can't," he bit out, "can't, i swear."
you rolled your hips back and forth, trying to will some movement from him. "please, jack, please move," you begged. "please fuck me, baby."
never one to deny you, he began a slow pace, the friction and depth almost unbearable. one of his hands dug into your hip, so hard you could feel bruising, the other beginning to rub careful circles on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.
"you're so deep," you choked, "faster, baby, need you faster."
he obliged, picking up the pace of his rhythm, moving his hand faster against your clit, making that wave well up within you, forcing moans from your throat.
"fuck, sound so pretty, baby," he said, a glistening sheen now painted across his brow, his collarbones. "so pretty, squeezing me so perfect."
the muscles of his stomach began to contract as you felt yourself dangerously close.
his rhythm continued, bruising in depth and force, so lovely in softness. you tugged his hand from your hip, placed his fingers on your tongue, desperate for something to do with your mouth. you sucked, pulling a guttural moan from him. "don't stand a chance when you do that, baby, swear," he said, "fuck, don't stand a chance with you, hm?"
you felt yourself smile around his hand, your eyes watering, glazed over.
"gonna make me cum, baby," he whined, his motions becoming jerky, his voice little more than a plea. "cum with me, baby, hm? make me feel so good, yeah?"
you fell over the edge at his words, felt his orgasm follow yours almost immediately, the air warm and sticky around you. he collapsed on top of you, his exhales like liquid on your skin, yours like dreamy sighs as he pulled you to him, held you close as you waited for the rise and fall of your chests to settle.
he drew his fingers lazily around the flesh of your thigh, your hip, you pushed his hair back from his face as you both fought sleep, wanting just a few more seconds in the conscious presence of the other.
everything was so lovely you could barely stand it.
you should have known it wouldn't last long.
a day into jack's time away, you received a text from one of your friends in toronto. it was a picture from auston's instagram with the message just thought you should know. we miss you.
something cracked in your chest at the photo of your ex-fiance and this new girl. it wasn't really jealousy, definitely not desire, no, it was harder to pinpoint.
maybe it was the fact that after four years of being together, and after a whole year of being engaged, auston had never once even thought about posting a picture of the two of you.
and you had always chalked it up to the fact that you didn't have any social media, but now, you realized there was something to be said about letting the world know that you were taken.
and you also knew, now, that that was a statement auston had been unable to make your entire relationship.
a voice in the back of your mind, tone watery with tears, wailed. what makes her so special? it pressed. what makes her so much better than me?
it didn't help that she looked absolutely nothing like you. you wondered passingly if you would have preferred a look-a-like to be staring back at you through your screen. you didn't really know, but you did know that her features were sharp to your soft, your eyes are hair completely different in coloring. her face had you questioning if he had ever really found you beautiful, or if you had been the exception to his regular type. the idea weighed heavily on your shoulders like a cape made of cement.
but you knew, at the end of the day, that it was not about her.
and so you decided that as much as your relationship with jack had become genuine, maybe it was time to bring back the plan, just a little.
it can be two things, you told yourself, jack doesn't need to get hurt.
so when jack arrived back from the road, your relationship now teetered on a tightrope, balancing between two things, two motives like a trapeze artist.
still, you tried your best not to let your desire to rip out the heart of your ex-fiance stand in between you and jack. you could be bloodthirsty and gentle at the same time, you told yourself. two things.
the idea became easier when jack began to ask you to come to his games.
at first, you had been skeptical. auston hadn't wanted you there until maybe a year and half into your relationship. you didn't want to push this, press your luck, make yourself a burden, in fear of him abandoning you.
"are you sure you want me there?" you had asked the first time, a little timid, your face resting on your clasped hands, sitting at his kitchen counter, keeping him company as he made something on the stove.
he had turned to you, head tilted, confused. "of course i do, baby," he had said, calmly and clearly. "i want you everywhere i am."
and that had been the end of that.
so you began to become a regular attendee at his games, getting to know the people of his life more closely, becoming a fixture in his life more solidly.
you let him post a picture of the two of you, so touched that he would even ask. he showed you the post when he was done.
you kissed his shoulder in response. "your eyes are closed, jack," you said, half-laughing at the fact that he had chosen this picture, so flawed in nature.
"hm?" he looked at the picture again, then shrugged. "hadn't noticed. no one's gonna be looking at me, anyways."
you shook your head, disbelieving. he was making it hard for this to be two things. he was making it really, really hard to care if your ex-fiance even saw this post. he was making it really hard to care about your ex-fiance at all.
"i don't believe you, sometimes," you mused aloud.
he twirled a lock of your hair, mesmerized. "how?"
you tilted your head back to allow him easier access. "you're pretty perfect, you know that?" you smiled up at him, blissful. "too perfect."
seeing his face go pink with your praise made you make a mental vow to tell him more often.
and he gave you every opportunity to be surprised by his perfection, over and over.
every kiss was something teenage you would have dreamed about, every time he led you into his bedroom was something current you dreamed about. how he seemed to enjoy every moment no matter what you were doing, even how clearly he communicated with you during your first fight, all of it astounded you.
he made all of your friends jealous, but so happy for you. he met them, one time, when he dropped you off to get coffee with them after class.
he was so respectful with them, asked them genuine questions, but never anything that told you that he wasn't in on you one hundred percent.
when auston met your best friend in toronto, he had dropped your hand that he had been holding.
"didn't tell me she was so pretty, angel," he had said, and you had hoped it was just to show you he was putting in an effort to impress the people that were important to you.
when jack said he had to be going, to get to morning skate, he just kissed your cheek. "use my card, yeah, baby?" he called out, waiting for your nod and smile before he drove away.
how had you stumbled into this? was it possible that it wasn't too good to be true?
jack had asked you to come to toronto when the devils headed up north to play the leafs, because he knew you had lived there, because he had lived there, too, and wanted to show you around. and it had reached a point where refusing him when he offered a piece of himself to you seemed cruelly impossible.
you told yourself that it was just another game, just another day. it helped that you honestly didn't feel any attachment to this rink, even to this city. you had watched jack play plenty, now, and you were determined to treat this game just the same as any other, if not rooting for jack with just a little more urgency, a little more emotion.
you loved how easy he was to cheer for. you loved how you could see how much he loved the game, how he smiled after every good play, how he saw things you could have never seen on the ice. you could practically hear his laugh in the rafters, see his imperfect teeth in the glass. he was everywhere, here, are you loved it.
of course, you noticed that your ex-fiance was here, but it honestly wasn't even that bad. if anything, it was confirmation that you were over him, that what you had with jack was real, that you weren't in for revenge anymore. you weren't in this for auston at all.
until he scored, and his goal song echoed through the arena. you knew that this year, the leafs had decided to try out individual goal songs after players scored, songs that they chose before the season started.
you did not know, however, that auston matthews' goal song was the song that, months ago, was set to be the soundtrack to your first dance.
the crowd was eating it up, of course they were, the juxtaposition of auston's dynamic scoring ability with the old-fashioned crooning of you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you.
the song seemed to reverberate off of the walls, into your head, behind your eyes, where it settled like thick fog. it smelled like champagne, waxy makeup, hairspray. your eyes began to water, which made your throat constrict.
like a dream, maybe a hazy memory, your first dance that never was flashed across your mind. an ornate, almost gauche white dress, the beautiful heels you had been practicing to wear. his pressed suit, slicked back hair, stupid designer socks that used to make you laugh. his hand on your waist, your arms around his neck, the two of you lost in each other, swaying, swirling around the floor to this song, surrounded by loved ones, high on laughter and the future and love.
slowly, the image blinked out of your vision as the song faded and the puck dropped, play starting up again.
it blinked out like a dying star, and then it was exactly that. dead.
because as you trained your eyes back on the ice, never once did they stray from 86 in red. never once did anything like regret or nostalgic desire well up in your heart, because you were not the one who lost. you were not the one with something to prove.
finally, you buried that wedding dress, laid it six feet under, let the soil spoil it, knowing one day you would wear a white dress and it would mean something to both parties involved.
in a breath, the game ended, and jack won, and he was truly all you were thinking about.
waiting for him, though, practically bouncing up and down, you were suddenly pulled into a side hallway by a grip you would recognize anywhere.
you were not surprised to look up and see the calculating eyes of auston matthews looking down at you with some lethal combination of heat and arrogance.
"angel," he said, a greeting that made you grind your teeth.
you pulled your arm away from him, shook him off of you, willed strength and stone into your posture and tone. "cool goal song, asshole," you bit out.
"i missed you too," he cooed, not taking you seriously, even now. his frame seemed so imposing now, looming large, too large for someone you didn't trust.
you rolled your eyes. "if you'll excuse me, i'm waiting for someone." you turned to leave the hallway, go back to the exit where jack would surely be walking out of any minute.
auston grabbed at your wrist, and it burned. "what, you mean that kid?" he scoffed, but didn't let go. "c'mon, angel, you know he's nothing to you." he rubbed a circle into your wrist that once, might have been soothing, but now made you feel sick. "you know you're all for me."
and you could have said so many things. like how that kid was your age, actually, so what did that say about him? like how that kid was twice the man he would ever be. like how this would be the last time you ever saw him, the last time he would ever have your attention.
the opening of a door ripped you from your thoughts as both you and auston glanced up to see jack in the doorframe, his bag slung over his shoulder, his face flushed from the game, tired blue eyes caught on auston's hand around your wrist.
time froze for a millisecond as you felt like you were pulled between worlds. it can be two things, you had told yourself once. it was never two things.
you watched as painful realization settled in jack's eyes as he simply turned away, let the door close behind him.
you ripped your arm from auston's grasp. "you've never taken me seriously," you told him then, looking him square in the face, your tone steady and serious as anything. "but if you believe anything i say, let it be that you are nothing to me, and you never will be again."
for the second time, you were the one to leave, this time running towards something worth saving.
you cursed under your breath, looking around for that head of soft brown hair.
you found him in a different hallway, sitting on the ground, his bag slumped next to him, his back leaning against the wall, his feet flat on the ground.
for a single moment, it was so quiet you swore that your exhales echoed against the walls. he didn't turn to face you, but obviously knew you were there.
"so you're with him, then?" he practically whispered, his tone like a cleaver to your chest, so defeated and blindsided, almost like he was talking to himself.
you slowly made your way over to him, sat down next to him, mirrored his position. side by side, but he felt so far away. "i'm not," you said back to him.
he let out some kind of bitter laugh, a sound you hated, a sound you hoped you would never have to hear again. "so that was you making friends?" he picked at a thread on his dress pants. "just meeting new people, 's that it?"
you turned to face him, then, but he still faced forward, as if looking at you would ruin him. "it's not what you think," you said, softly.
"well, what is it?" he paused, looked at you, then, and he wore his sadness like a suit fit for mourning. "be honest with me, please."
you took a shaky breath, knowing that this, very possibly, might be the last time you would ever be so close to him. knowing that your next words, your explanation, it might drive him away from you forever, before you had even really had the chance to have him.
you savored this breath, this liminal space between the truth and the now.
"i was going to marry him," you said, and the confession felt like letting go of every single vengeful thought you had ever had, like all the spite and disdain in your body had evaporated into dust.
"you were going to marry auston matthews," jack murmured, his face blank, his tone confused.
"yes."
"but you're not anymore?" he asked, looking at you, leaning his cheek onto his knees like an impatient elementary school kid waiting for recess.
you shook your head. "no. he cheated on me."
there was a pause, brutal silence, as his brow furrowed in confusion, his fists clenched briefly before letting go. his gaze fell to his hands for a moment, and when he spoke again it was so cautious, so pointed, that your stomach sank. "and then you just happened to start dating me?" he looked so tired. "same job, same goals, pretty much same life." he let out a breath. "you can't tell me that's a coincidence."
you sighed, prayed to whatever god would listen that honesty would count for something. "no, it wasn't a coincidence." your heart felt like it was lulling itself to sleep. "you were never a coincidence."
he dropped his head between his knees, and hurt vibrated through the air like sound waves. you could feel his hurt in your fingertips, could have melted in down, frozen it, wielded it like a weapon. "tell me something, baby," he pleaded, muffled by his legs. "please."
you knew it was unfair, but you laid a gentle hand on his fingers. "let me tell you all of it, please, jack, and then you don't have to see me again if you don't want to."
he took a breath that you felt in your bones, then in an act of mercy you cherished, gave a soft nod.
so you did. you told him the whole story - how you had been so devastated and hurt that you were blinded by a desire to make auston suffer. how you had chosen jack on purpose, because you knew it would cut the deepest. how you had not simply shown up randomly at that bar, all that time ago, how all of it was part of a plan, down to flirting with his friend, down to that first game of pool.
he didn't push your hand away, actually leaned his leg into your arm as you told him the story. the scary part's over, you wanted to say, you can stop hiding under the covers, now.
and so you told him about how he had hijacked your plan entirely. how you never expected to determine how good your day was based on how often you heard his laugh, how no one could have predicted how often you dreamed of his smile, how days when he was away truly felt like a loss.
"if i had known you, i never would have put you through this," you told him, finally, honestly. "i would have left you alone."
he was quiet for a moment, and then he picked his head up and looked at you, genuinely, thoughtfully. "you never would have used me to get back at your ex-fiance?" he asked, but there was not really any bite in his tone.
you tried your luck, reached up, brushed his damp hair from his forehead. "i did use you," you admitted. "and i don't have an excuse." he looked at you with clear eyes. "it was mean, and cruel, and all i can do is say that i'm so, so sorry and i will never hurt you like that again. i promise, that's the truth."
in the silent moments after you finished speaking, you closed your eyes for a brief moment, waiting for his reaction.
when you opened your eyes, he was looking at you. he opened his legs and knees wide, held open his arms, waiting. "i believe you."
it took no convincing for you to settle into the space he had created for you, to lean back against his chest, feel his heartbeat between your shoulder blades, his arms coming around your sides to clasp in front of your middle.
"you believe me?" you said, almost a whisper. you picked up his hand, held it to your chest, shocked that he was letting you. shocked that he was still here, making space for you.
you let the smell of him engulf you. it felt similar to walking into your mother's closet - the evidence of her living, loving, everywhere around you. the evidence of jack was everywhere, now, all over you, growing like some carnivorous plant over your heart.
"you promised," he said simply, into your hair.
and how spectacular it felt for someone to take you seriously, to take your words at face value, to understand that when you promised something, you meant it.
it felt like words were failing you, so you brought his hand to your mouth and pressed your lips to his palm lightly.
he hummed into your hair. "tell me about now," he said, voice steady and patient.
"hm?" you twisted your neck to look him in the eye, leaned back further until the back of your head rested on his chest.
"you told me about before. about him," he said, his eyes swimming with home, with hope. "tell me about us. tell me about now."
you searched for words, wondering how you could convey just how important he was to you, just how deeply you cared.
you could have said that his eyes were the most beautiful ocean you'd ever swam in. you could have said that kissing him felt like swallowing stardust, that listening to him talk about his day was a privilege and honor.
you could have said how you loved his voice after a long day, how he wore his emotions openly, shamelessly, how kind he was to those around him, how he didn't let you leave his house in doubt for even a second about his feelings, how he let laughter come easy, how he was many things but never, ever, indifferent.
you could have said so many things, but sometimes poetry and fancy words are inadequate, just diluting the true meaning, make it taste like watered-down juice, faint and lacking.
you could have said so many things, but you just told him the truth.
"i wake up every morning and i think of you," you said. "every moment you're not with me, i wish you were." you willed every ounce of meaning into your gaze. "you are my first choice, every time, jack. and it's not even close."
there was a silence as he processed what you said, and something like adoration dawned in his gaze like a springtime sunrise.
he tilted his head down, pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that told you he understood.
that no matter how you had gotten here, you were here, now.
"tell me again," he whispered against your mouth, and you smiled into his. that, you could do.
fin.
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satoruoo · 5 months
Note
ok but satoru would actually know you were pregnant before you did. he wakes up one morning and sees the new cursed energy flowing off you 🥺👉👈
✦°. THERE IS NO WAY. - gojo satoru
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there are a lot of things satoru sees with his six eyes.
he sees the soul in all its glory, pure and raw; a kaleidoscope of emotions and thoughts all interlaced to make up a person's nature. he sees, documents, the energy of all the people he holds dear to better keep them safe, to recognize them at a glance.
satoru knows you arguably better than he knows himself. he's well acquainted with every crevice of your body and knows your cursed energy like the back of his hand. you're the other half of his soul and he'd be damned if he didn't treat you that way.
he's confident that he knows everything about you, but when he wakes on a sunday morning and he picks up on something that is neither you or him, he can't believe his eyes.
there's a slight tremor in his hands as he sweeps the hair out of your face, watching in silent awe as you snuggle deeper into his embrace.
there's a new kind of energy radiating from you, akin to a gentle brush stroke capable of painting a million colours onto a blank canvas. it's smooth and slow like the waves, somehow a perfect mix of you and him.
the recognition kicks any remaining tiredness out of his system with ease. he sits up, jaw slackening. he's looking over you meticulously, double and triple checking that he's seeing this correctly.
fuck sleeping, honestly, because satoru is already wide awake, cerulean coloured irises already as round as dinner plates as he stares down at you.
his six eyes are not seeing things wrong. there are not one but two sources of cursed energy coming from you, who is only a single person.
the cogs turn at impressive speed inside his head, a beaming smile etching onto his porcelain-like face as the pieces begin to fit together.
pregnant.
the word makes him feel all giddy inside. the mere thought of becoming a father gets his heart pumping at laughable speeds.
you, him, and now a baby. a real, breathing, living child who is sure to be the perfect balance of you and him.
(he hopes the baby has your face and eyes. he doesn't want the burden of his god-like ability to interfere with the lives of any of his children.)
satoru shakes you from your slumber with vigour he shouldn't have in the early hours of the morning, half trembling with badly restrained excitement.
you're awake within seconds, a plethora of curses spilling from your lips as your slumber is rudely interrupted.
"satoru," you say threatningly, but it does nothing to dent your boyfriend's ridiculously large smile, "you better have a good reason for waking me up," you turn to look at the clock. "it's seven in the fucking morning."
little do you know, satoru can't even hear you. he's tuning everything out, focusing on nothing but how beautiful you look with the white sheets draped elegantly over your form, golden rays of light seeping into your already glowing figure as you press your face into the pillow with a groan.
"you're pregnant." satoru blurts, unable to keep it to himself for any longer. (it had been approximately 2 minutes).
he snorts at the way you look up at him, eyebrow raised skeptically. you hold his gaze for what feels like forever, searching for any truth in his statement. the statement that you, of course, did not believe.
"oh yeah?" satoru's heart thumps widely in his chest as the sound of your laughter infiltrates his ears. "how do you know?"
he can tell from your tone of voice that you don't buy it. typical.
satoru grins lazily, throwing his form on top of you and affectionately nosing your cheek. you make no move to stop him, you're far too tired.
(you subconsciously take note of the way his weight doesn't crush you as much as it usually does. he seems to be holding back for some reason.)
"i can see it!" he exclaims gleefully. there's so much sincerity in his manner that you almost think he's not fucking with you.
"righhhhhtttt." you say as you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "because you have x-ray vision or something, huh?"
in a way, he did actually have x-ray vision. when it came to cursed energy at least.
"nah, i can just see our kids cursed energy on you, babe," he speaks, hand coming to rest on your stomach.
there's something in the way that his smile softens and his shoulders relax as he gently massages your stomach that leads you to believe him.
"are you for real?" you ask breathlessly. it still isn't sinking in.
"yes ma'am." satoru confirms with a blinding grin.
he cackles at your awestruck face. his arms encircle your waist, pulling you ever closer so he can feel the comforting beat of your heart.
"i'm really happy, baby- ow!" satoru yelps as you kick him in the shin, leaping up from the bed with the widest grin he's ever seen.
"what the fuck are we here for, then? let's go ask shoko to do a scan or whatever and check everything's okay!"
he's not sure it's because you're his lover or something else entirely, but your enthusiasm rubs off on him and he springs to his feet, following you to the bathroom.
satoru doesn't even need to ask if you're happy, he can tell from the kiss full of passion, love and silent thanks you give him in the bathroom that you're as overjoyed as he is.
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BONUS:
"what kind of devil spawn did you birth, babe?" satoru whines, mushed carrot smeared across his face.
you laugh, picking your son up from his highchair. the baby babbles happily, nuzzling his messy white hair into the crook of your neck.
"i think he's adorable," you retort sweetly as you carefully stroke your son's back.
"well you would, ‘cause he likes you more!” your husband complains, "all i get is a slap in the face and baby food down my shirt!"
"that's the way he shows love, honey."
"no one sane shows love like that!"
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taggin: @sad-darksoul
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yoongsisbae · 5 months
Text
Seven Days a Week | JJK
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idol!jungkook x noona!reader. Every day, Jungkook shows you his devotion, deeper than the ocean. Seven different scenarios, seven days a week.
Happy holidays! I'm thankful for my sweet readers who will forgive me for taking so long to post (I hope) :'D
Warnings: pwp (so basically like the song), bdsm because I feel like it's on brand, jealous/clingy/possessive jk because also on brand, dubcon, soft yandere, jk is sf obsessed with u, he kinda toxic tbh so if you don't like that don't read this lol, rough sex, voyeur, somnophilia, fingering, oral sex, overstimulation, voyeur, tied up, sweet aftercare eventually lol
---
Jungkook wound himself around your body, held you tighter than he should. If he could bring you closer to him, he would. He couldn't help himself, sometimes, he wanted to make you cry out, make it hurt, so he could be assured of your devotion, that you'd still love him, that you wouldn't leave him at his worst. It eased his anxious heart when you leaned into his rough embrace instead of shying away, looked back at him with glistening eyes full of tears, gripped him back just as tightly and cried a soft moan.
He couldn't help himself, Jungkook loved you, and he wound himself up over thoughts of you leaving him for someone better, for someone with more time for you, someone who could show their love better than Jungkook could. Jungkook could only whisper his love to you when no one else was looking, show how much he needed you behind closed doors, in dark rooms, hidden from the public always.
Jungkook wanted to scream out to the world his love for you, but he couldn't, for so many reasons he shouldn't. It wasn't fair and it made him mad, made him jealous, so he made you scream his name instead, into pillows, behind his palm, underneath him, just hoping it would be enough to keep you with him forever.
He wanted you to ache for him night after night, think about him as much as he thought about you, at every minute, every second, every day.
MONDAY
Jungkook opens the door to his apartment.
He smiles to himself as he takes off his boots. The smell of home-cooking hits him immediately. Jungkook can hear you in the kitchen making dinner, chopping vegetables and singing.
He creeps closer, watching as you dance to music playing loudly, and unbeknowest to you, putting on a rather nice show for your mischievous boyfriend.
Jungkook can't help himself, and honestly you should be more aware of your surroundings. He's teaching you a lesson!
"Boo!"
You crumple onto the floor, screaming like you've just seen a ghost.
You smack your terror of a boyfriend as Jungkook joins you on the floor, doubling over in a fit of laughter. "You're going to give me a heart attack!" You clutch your racing heart, glaring at your giggly attacker.
"Yah! How did you not hear me? What if I had been a burglar?!"
"...in this building?" You shove him.
"What if you were alone at your place? You need to pay attention. You could have been taken advantage of!"
You cross your arms. "Shouldn't you still be at work?"
Jungkook's eyes sparkle with mirth as he helps you up. "Should I go back?" He laughs and kisses you when you pout, breathing you in.
"You look beautiful," he murmurs into your neck, hands gripping your ass, pulling you into him. "Why are you dressed up? Planning on going out while I'm at work?"
"I'm not dressed up," you argue. Your face feels hot as his eyes rake over your body. "And no, of course not, I wanted to look nice for you."
"Good." Jungkook buries his head in your shoulder, taking his time slipping his hands under the hem of your dress and exploring your body. "Because I don't want anyone else to see you in this dress but me, okay?"
He kisses you, licks across your lips, swallowing up your protests. "I'm not done cooking," you mumble between heated kisses.
Jungkook reaches over and turns off the burner. "It can wait. Right now, I want something else to eat," he teases.
"But-"
He nips at your lips, rolls his tongue in your mouth until you're gasping. "I'm not hungry. Well..." his gaze travels down to your lips and then lower. "I'm hungry for you, Noona," he whispers in your ear, hugging you to him tightly.
You let a moan escape you as his breath tickles your ear, and he lets out a low heavy grunt, nipping at your lobe. He wants you closer, he grips your ass, yanking you into his growing erection.
You kiss him, giving in. Jungkook is always so very good at distracting you.
And his distractions often hit you like a whirlwind. Your idol boyfriend can easily turn up the heat from zero to a hundred with his adept hands and talented tongue.
Those hands roam your body, that tongue plays with your own. And before you know it, Jungkook is easily pressing two digits into you.
The sudden intrusion stings even in your growing wetness, filling you with pressure that turns into inescapable pleasure, sending trembles through you.
Jungkook's lips never leave yours. He loves kissing you until you're whining for him to slow down, heaving in air in the seconds his lips part from yours, your soft lips becoming swollen and sensitive the longer he stays pressed to you, until you're pushing against his chest to let you breath.
Jungkook loves the way your body squirms against him, he grabs your wrist, moving his mouth down to nip and suck at your neck as his fingers press deeper and faster into you. No matter how many times he does it, it feels like fireworks, electrifying you, an overwhelming touch that makes your legs buckle and your body shake.
You welcomed his rough touches. You couldn't pinpoint the day his usual gentleness became something more, the hesitation in his movements became confident hands holding onto your throat and deep rough thrusts he was no longer holding back, or when your stilted moans became loud and shameless, but you craved seeing that side of him, one you could only bring out of him.
Perhaps you shouldn't feed into your younger boyfriend's demanding nature so much. When he held your hand against your back, nipped at your shoulder, you should have put your foot down and told him to stop and let you finish cooking, but it felt so much better to wrap your legs around him instead and kiss him back, to let him move your body the way he wanted and give into everything. Pleasure, pain, both made your heart race the same, rose the temperature in your body almost indistinguishably.
Jungkook groans, low, hissing, whimpering. He is a vocal lover, it was never a surprising fact and only excited you more to hear how much you affected him, made you gush wetness at his deepened voice.
Jungkook groans even louder as you coat his fingers in more slick, thumb circling over your clit as he rocks his hand against your core, making you quiver and let out the most obscene sounds Jungkook's ever heard. Your sweet voice always delighted him, but this, made him rock hard.
"I missed you, Noona," Jungkook whines against your throat. Your nails dig into his shoulders and he sucks harder on the sensitive skin of your neck, making sure to mark you so others know they can't have you, so even though you can't let them know Jungkook is yours, you will have something to show off his devotion.
If Jungkook could not be with you out in the open, he would make sure your body revealed his presence nonetheless. So many times he would grip your thighs, dig his fingers into your flesh, so you would have to cover your legs from prying eyes or admit you've been held, touched, fondled to any man who dared to look at you. Just the thought of their eyes on you made Jungkook press down harder.
This tiny dress, this low cut hem and short skirt wouldn't hide his marks. He swallows down his growing irritation when he thinks of you leaving his home in something so revealing. Part of him wants to rip it off you, hide it so you'll leave in his sweats and hoodie, so you'll have part of him around you all day until he can hold you again.
Jungkook wanted to watch you fall apart on his fingers, but he had riled himself up too much now, he needed to silence his worries again, he needed to feel you around his cock instead, right now, in his kitchen. He quickly turned you around, hugged your body close to him and replaced his fingers with his thick length instead.
You loved his soft caresses, but the desperation in the way he wanted to bury himself inside your body made you burn all over. "I missed you too," you whined, pressing your hips back into him.
You cried out from the burn as you stretched around his length, gripping the counter as Jungkook filled you fuller. Jungkook fucked into you over and over, letting the frustrations of his work day out, forgetting everything but the warmth of your body, until he felt like he was bursting, then he pulled out and slapped your ass hard, pulling you into his arms.
He decided he would have his meal in the bedroom instead.
TUESDAY
You sit in Jungkook's studio, enjoying your day off with him. He's working on his newest song. You catch him staring at you and it makes you smile. He chews on his bottom lip as he mumbles the chorus to himself and you stretch your sore limbs.
Jungkook twirls his pen out of habit, singing the soulful melody softly, restless legs knocking into yours as he taps his foot.
"This is putting me in the mood," you tease when he goes over another rather scandalous line in his song.
"Yeah?" he smiles.
"Your voice is so sexy."
He smirks, tapping his pen. "Come here."
You definitely promised a certain leader you would not be a distraction when visiting. Jungkook leans back in his studio chair, spreading his legs and instead of repeating himself, he taps his knee impatiently.
What if someone comes in? What if they hear you? What if you get caught? You glance toward the studio door. "We shouldn't..."
Jungkook can't help himself when it comes to you. How can he stop himself when you say it like that? Breathy and low, and a touch of playfulness in your voice, a cheeky half smile across your full lips? He licks across his own lips, adjusting his lip ring, imagining all the things he'd like to do to you in his studio. Your gaze follows his actions, your fingers absentmindedly brushing across your mouth in response.
"Ride me." Jungkook grunts, adjusting himself. "No one will find out if you keep quiet," he whispers, smiling deviously.
You scoff, standing up and settling yourself down in his lap despite your apprehensions. "Just kissing."
"Kissing, annnnd?" He teases, grabbing you roughly to bring you closer.
"We can't," you groan when his hips press up into yours, his strong grip on your body tightening.
"So what if someone catches us? You're mine, aren't you?" he mutters.
"Yes, but-"
"I want you," he whines. "I need you. Please Noona, give it to me." He slides his hand in between your legs, fingertips dancing over your panties, pressing against the wet fabric at your center.
"I can't stop thinking about how good your pussy would feel." He steadily rubs across the sheer cloth, "Fuuuuck, let me feel you just for a second."
Your breath hitches at his obscene words, how can you deny him now? "A quick one," you kiss him with no time to waste, hiking up your skirt higher. "Just for a second," you remind him.
Jungkook grunts in satisfaction, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down and exposing his already solid erection, tongue exploring your mouth as if the taste of you is the only cure for the hunger inside of him.
"Slow," you tell him, rubbing your pussy over his leaking cock, but he only smirks and pulls your hips down on his cock, swallowing up your whimpers.
He thrusts up fast, fucking you hard, enjoying the sight of you as you bite down screams of ecstasy, unable to keep yourself completely quiet. It's like a game, one he intends on winning, and one he certainly has the stamina and strength to win, but your tightness is proving to be formidable at unraveling his conquest of you.
He drags your shirt up, yanks your bra down until he unveils your perky nipples and he is quick to devour you, suck until you are all but overcome by the fevered attention of your body.
Until you are overcome, coming hard on his cock, shaking against him, quivering for him to relent as he does a victory lap across your body, pinching and sucking and fucking you until you are boneless in his arms, pliable to his whims.
The way you mold yourself to him, surrender your body to him, sends Jungkook over the edge quickly. It's all he wants, it's all of you.
WEDNESDAY
"Noona, it's been so long since we had sex," Jungkook groans.
"We had sex yesterday, you crazy!" you remark, giving up on the movie in front of you.
"Yeah, that was yesterday, we haven't had sex today at all." Jungkook runs his hands down the curves of your body, enticing you even further away from the action on the television.
It works, his hands touching your body, his softly spoken words of encouragement, so needy and persistent, rile you up to the point where you can’t help but give in to Jungkook.
The tips of his fingers are electric as they run down your skin. It's like you are hard wired for him, turned on by him so easily like a flip of a switch.
And you can feel his switch turning up too, pressing against your leg, growing bigger and bigger and more demanding to be touched.
Jungkook was practically hardwired for you too. It's probably why he gets hard just sitting beside you, so suddenly when you are just cuddling or talking. And like a switch being flipped, his whole demeanor changes, gone is your cute cuddly boyfriend. Jungkook's eyes go dark and determined, he breathes out low and seductive, and you can't help but fall into him further.
The way he explores your body and groans deeper sends jolts of energy through you, his strong hands caressing your stomach and sides, carefully pushing up your shirt and grabbing your tits, his body pressed tight against you as he moves on top, in between your legs, your heat and his meeting and fitting together so perfectly; it makes you frenzied for him.
You finally reach for him, grip his shoulders in a vice and arch into him, needing him impossibly closer.
Jungkook presses his head deep between the valley of your breasts and inhales raggedly, it’s shocking and makes you practically delirious with lust. You thought your sex drive was abnormal, but your younger boyfriend really could go all day and all night, probably every hour on the hour, if you let him.
”Please…” you rasp.
”Please what, baby?”
You bite your lip, too shy to ask him. Jungkook grins. He loves when you act like this, needy and whiny for him, cute and shy.
You may be older than him, but Jungkook’s always been the dominate one in the relationship, and if it weren’t for a few very calculated ‘y/n Noona’s amongst company, your friends would have never guessed he was the youngest between you.
You acted like you hated when he called you ‘Noona,’ as it was a sore reminder that you were at a disadvantage by societal standards, but really, alone together, when Jungkook softly whines for you, it’s just another switch that brightens your love for him, your desire for him….
“Please, fuck me,” you whisper, barely audible.
”What, baby?”
You wrap your legs tighter around his lean waist, diving your hand in between your bodies to reiterate your desperate need for him.
Jungkook moans deeply and lays heavy over you, head nestled back into the softness of your body. He lets his tongue lick across your neck and shoulder as you wrap your fingers tightly around his erection.
With his eyes no longer penetrating you, Jungkook falling apart over you, your head less cloudy by his intoxicating attractiveness, you can whisper what you want most directly in his ear. “Please fuck me. I’m so wet for you.”
Jungkook groans, “Fu-uck.”
”Fill me up with your cock.”
He lifts himself up. ”Yeah, you want my cum?” 
His eyes rack over your body. You nod quickly, wavering in your confidence. 
As if somehow your boyfriend knew the insecurities surfacing inside you, he runs his hand softly over your cheek and down your neck, cupping your breast. “You’re so sexy, so good to me,” he breathes out, barely containing himself from ravaging you. “Want me to fuck you full of my cum, Noona?” He smirks, hand placed back against your cheek, thumb finding it’s way inside your mouth to press against your bottom lip.
He knows it already, he knows you.
”Yes,” you whisper breathlessly, grinding against his cock. “I want you, fu-uck —oh— please.”
Jungkook dives in for a kiss as you guide his cock through your slippery folds. He swallows up your moans eagerly as he thrusts his hips to meet yours.
You choke on your own cries, the air knocked out of you by his deep thrusts as you tighten yourself around him, holding onto him like a lifeline.
You really could drown in him, let yourself float deeper in the ocean of Jungkook’s love until his slippery embrace was all that surrounded you and all that you wanted. It was easy, natural, to sink deeper, to love him like you needed him to breathe.
One day you’ll reach the climax to that movie, but not tonight. Tonight, his climax is the ending you excitedly reach for.
THURSDAY
Sometimes you went days without him, some nights you would be fast asleep before Jungkook came home, some mornings he would be gone before you woke.
So each moment you had with the famous singer you treasured. But…
You also have to admit, there are some moments where you just want to…
Smack your boyfriend in the back of his beautiful head for being so aggravating!
You get so little time with him…not enough…and today Jungkook chose to spend that time giving you…the silent treatment!?
-
“Why are you mad? Talk to me.” You ask, after riding home with him in silence.
Jungkook bites his tongue.
“I’m leaving!” You groan, turning on your heel and heading back towards the front door. You didn’t want to leave, but being ignored by your boyfriend after missing him for so long was far far worse.
“Where are you going?!” He yells. “Going to see Jaehyun!?”
“What? No?! Wait, what?!” You stammer, perplexed.
Jungkook crosses his arms and looks away muttering to himself.
“JUNGKOOK, WHY ARE YOU SO MAD?”
“WHY DID YOU LET HIM FEED YOU?” Jungkook bursts out.
“Huh? Who? Jaehyun?!”
“Yes!”
“When did he-”
“The wrap!”
Your mind runs through tonight’s dinner party where you met up with Jungkook and his friends. You hadn’t even wanted to go, things like that made you anxious, but you missed your boyfriend like crazy and didn’t want to wait a second longer to see him.
In places like that, you had to make sure to keep Jungkook at an arm’s length, you never knew when a close moment in public could be used against you; so the few, the better.
You sat next to his friend Jaehyun, and he might have helped you make a wrap, now that you think about it…
The others teased Jungkook, noticing the irony of the situation when Jaehyun helped you pull away two perilla leaves stuck together, and Jungkook whined and acted angry and eventually laughed along.
Well, at least you thought it had been an act…
Clearly, it was not.
“Jungkook, really, Jaehyun? You’re jealous of him?”
“I'm not jealous!” And then he can’t help but add, “When we first met, whose picture did I find in your phone?”
“....I don't r-remember?” You definitely do remember.
He looks at you pointedly.
“…Jaehyun’s?”
He glares at you, seemingly furious at the fact that he made his point.
“Okay? So, what? You think this whole time, I’ve just been pining for Jeong Yuno? Just biding my time with you until I can be with Jeong Yuno?!”
“No-” he pouts.
“You don't believe me when I tell you I love you? You think I'm a liar?” You ask, on a tirade now.
“No-no. I just-”
“What?!”
“I'm sor-”
“Jungkook, I haven't seen you for over two weeks. Do you know how much I looked forward to tonight, to finally be with you? To see you? to spend time with you? The only reason I went to dinner is because you asked me to!”
Jungkook stays stubbornly quiet.
“I should go.”
Jungkook hugs you from behind before you can reach the door, pressing himself to your back. “No, don’t go, please don't go.”
You reach for the door handle. “I want to leave.” You didn't. You much rather enjoyed the heat of Jungkook’s body wrapped around you. But you’re mad now too and wanted to make a point.
“No.”
“Let me go.”
“I can't.”
Jungkook kisses your neck. He extinguishes your anger with each little peck, kisses like raindrops against your skin, fizzling out your heated disposition.
You turn around, glaring into his eyes. He would hate it if you ignored him like that, he would whine about it for hours!  And Jungkook is still mad, it’s a hard emotion for him to just let go of, even when he believes you. He had worked himself up thinking of his friend and you, imaginary scenarios where you left him for someone easier to be with, someone better than Jungkook.
He kept catching moments where his friend and you held each other’s attention. The way Jaehyun and you looked at each other and giggled when ‘it’ happened. 
Argh he hated it!!!! 
Jaehyun’s chopstick touched yours…he basically indirectly kissed you at that point! The next time you meet him, what’s gonna happen next, are you gonna fuck each other-
”What’s wrong now?” You whine out.
Jungkook gripped your head in his hands, smashing his lips into yours so fiercely you squeal in surprise. 
It almost works, his kiss and his body that you ached for all this time. You don’t hate him, you love him, you love his stupid over reactions and his possessive nature and his passion-
“Ow!”
You smack him away when he bites your bottom lip harshly.
“I'm sorry.” Jungkook is not sorry.
And you know it. You glare at him, grip his neck and kiss him roughly, biting down on his bottom lip, paparazzi photos be damned.  Jungkook hisses in pain, gripping you back harsher. You try to move away, close your mouth tightly, knowing he will try to bite you back harder, but he becomes desperate to kiss you, have your mouth, your tongue, have all of you, gripping your jaw tight, pressing so hard into you that your lips finally part for him.
You struggle and whimper and it only makes Jungkook more fevered. He yanks you off your feet before you know it, dragging you away from the exit, from the possibility of leaving him alone-
No no no, you had been so far away from him for so long. He needed you here. Right here with him. He needed your mouth on him and your skin on him, he needed to have you, and he especially needed to keep you away from anyone else.
His teeth drag along your skin. Jungkook is harsher than he usually is, which is saying a lot, and his rough touches make you feverish and aching for what’s to come and questioning if you want to continue. You dig your nails into Jungkook’s wide back, he sucks marks into your skin without any hesitation.
You squirm, his overwhelming affection rips through you and leaves you tingling, pulsing, gushing. He touches your body like he owns it, and he tells you so, grunting “mine” against your heated skin.
You're going to come for him, you're going to bare your body for him, you're meant for him and no one else, he can't take the thought of you with anyone else, he can't…
He kisses you like he has something to prove, wanting to make up the hours not with you.
You push against him but he's solid like a rock, he’s not going to move from on top of you.
He grunts, smelling you. “I don’t want anyone else to touch you but me.” “He didn’t touch me,” you remind him.
“His chopstick touched yours-”
You giggle, half groaning. “His ‘chopstick’ did not touch me.”
“His actual chopstick.” Jungkook’s anger is still evident, even when his eyes soften, his gaze darkens again.
“Okay, okay. Just don’t ever ignore me like that,” you pout. “You would hate it if I did that to you.”
”I know. I’m sorry, Noona.” He kisses you softly in apology. And once again, his kisses become rougher, more urgent, until you’re yanking at each other’s clothes again, squeezing handfuls of each other, becoming louder and louder in contest.
Perhaps you are too forgiving, but no one is perfect and yet your boyfriend comes very close.  
Perhaps you just want to appreciate these moments, so sweet and delicious, forget the sour ones, and your appetite is too ravenous, you hungered for him, you drooled for a taste of him.
“So wet...Noona, you’re so wet...” Jungkook’s fingers sped up inside you. His other hand tangled itself in your hair, kept you from avoiding his gaze.
You gripped his thick cock in response. “So hard,” you moan.
You match each other’s pace, an unspoken race to see who reaches the finish line first. Jungkook refuses to lose, so he hikes you leg up higher, pushing his cock into you instead, setting his own brutal pace.
He fucks you hard, until you cry out the way he likes and shake exactly how he wants.
He circles your clit until you’re trembling. You grip his wrist but he's stronger than you and it doesn't deter him, digits pumping inside you at an unrelenting pace, intent on punishing you for the earlier night, Jungkook thinks you deserve a little punishment as long as you are enjoying it.
You clench around his cock so tight it’s painful for him to try to hold back any longer, but it’s an ache he accepts for you, like the ache he feels in his heart when you are not around, it’s all worth it to hold you in his arms and watch you fall into bliss.
“I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, Kookie.”
”Again?”
“…We’re gonna have to change these sheets.”
FRIDAY
Jungkook set his suitcase down and walked quietly through his apartment, not wanting to wake you. He found you sprawled on his bed, fast asleep, cute as ever. He gave you a quick kiss before showering. When your boyfriend came back to you, you had contorted yourself in another position, arm hanging off the bed. He moved you gently and cuddled into your side, finally feeling at home and at peace in your warmth.
His hectic lifestyle meant this often happened, even when he had you, you were already gone far away into dreamland, and it would be Jungkook's turn to wait for you. He didn't mind it, even if your mind was resting, your body was fully aware of his presence.
He rests his head on your shoulder and runs his fingertips along your body, focusing on your nipples, teasing them until they stand erect.
It was his night time ritual at this point, sometimes he'd gently pull your shirt up and admire the way they hardened slowly. Sometimes he'd lick them, desperate for a taste of you. He would play with your body until sleep overtook him, until your softness and smell and the comfort of your presence lulled him to sleep. Hotel rooms without you were such a cold loneliness in comparison, he needed to feel that heat inside you.
And occasionally, like tonight, he would reach in between your legs and softly caress your folds for even more of a taste of you, hoping to rouse you awake so he could bury himself inside the heat of you. 
"I love you." Jungkook kisses the side of your open mouth and rubs your pussy slowly.
You were so tired you couldn't even find the energy to open your eyes, you just grunted softly, acknowledging his doting presence.
Jungkook slowly presses two digit inside your leaking hole, lying his head down on your chest. He alternates his attention between your breast and your cunt, lazily licking and dipping his digits inside you, occasionally rutting against you with his semi-firm cock, content only in the exploration of your body.
Until eventually, your arm finds its way into his hair, petting the soft ringlets of Jungkook's damp strands. "Feel good, Noona?" he murmurs.
"Mmmm."
Your eyes were still closed, your jaw still slack, part of you still present inside your dreams. But your legs widened and your cunt tightened around his digits, your walls sucking his fingers in.
"Can I fuck you?"
"Mmmmm."
You were dripping wet at this point, and it takes only one more squeeze from your silky walls for Jungkook to roll himself on top, pressing the head of his cock into you.
Jungkook lies on top of you, relishing in the feel of your pussy, tight and wet around his cock.
He almost falls asleep, the way your entire presence envelopes him makes him feel so relaxed and safe. After a long plane ride home, he wanted nothing more than to sink into you further.
But you whimper softly, gushing wetness around his member, so he gives you what your body wants, give it to you slowly, steadily, building the pleasure up for both of you. He could do this all night: rock into you, hold you and lie with you.
But you wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his back and whimper, kissing his forehead, moaning out loud.
Jungkook finally lifts himself up, thrusting into you hard. Normally you would have squirmed and cried out at his sudden roughness, but your sleepy body rocked against his sheets and you arched your back into him instead.
"Fuuck. Noona, can I come inside?"
"Mm."
Jungkook spills into you, cock pulsing against your walls, filling your pussy full of his cum, then falls on top of you, spent, sighing against you.
You arch into him further, wanting release but too tired to voice your needs.
"Let me rest," he murmurs tiredly, slowly pressing his fingers inside your throbbing core, plugging his cum inside you. "Just for a bit, I promise, I'll make you cum, Noona." Jungkook rests his head next to you and closes his eyes, fingers stilling inside your walls.
It's almost torturous, but you don't even realize how needy you've become. You softly lift your hips up, rutting against his palm, until your dreams take you away again.
You dream of him, of course. You dream of his tight muscular body pressed against yours, his soft lips and sweet voice whispering dirty things into your ear. You dream of Jungkook fucking you until you scream and cry out his name over and over again. You dream of his fingers deep inside your walls, teasing out your orgasm until you're shaking, convulsing in unimaginable pleasure.
And suddenly your whole body stiffens and your legs lock around Jungkook's head as you come violently on his tongue.
You lift your head up and see your boyfriend smiling wide, head resting against your mound. "Morning, baby."
SATURDAY
"Jungkook, help! Jungkook!"
Jungkook comes running into the room, panicked at your yelling, and then he finds you...
…and begins to laugh.
You can hear your boyfriend's hysterics behind you. "This is not funny! Help!" you grunt, annoyed.
Jungkook sees you, legs kicking, body upside down over the armrest of his sectional, stuck in between the couch and the end table. "I tried to find where the cell phone charger went," you whine.
You push up on your elbow, but you have put yourself in such an awkward position you can't catch enough momentum to lift yourself up. "Heeelp! Pull me up!"
Jungkook surveys the situation closer and you closer. With the help of gravity your night shirt has ridden down over your behind, presenting the most enticing view of your bright red panties to your still laughing boyfriend. 
You grunt and try to push yourself up again, palms pressing against the wood flooring, but your center of gravity is too low to lift yourself alone and you can not change your position in the cramped space without bumping your head. Your boyfriend places his hands on your hips and you sigh in relief, until-
"Hey!" you yelp. Your very mischievous boyfriend starts to massage your backside, kneading your suppleness, moving closer and closer to…
"Fuck, you did this on purpose, didn't you?" Jungkook groans, gripping you tightly, two big handfuls of your bare ass. "Damn…"
You can't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. "I'm not!" Jungkook slaps your backside hard, his palm spreading across the arch in your back. "Hey!" You squeal. "Help me up!"
"And if I fuck you instead?"
"Or you could help me up and we can-" your arms are getting tired, "-ugh— go to the bed?"
He pats your backside again, "Get up then," he laughs.
"I can't," you whine.
“Aww you really can’t lift yourself?”
“C’mon, you’re making me feel old,” you pout.
He yanks you up. Just a bit. Just to position yourself better for his viewing pleasure.
“Try again,” he laughs.
You straighten your arms once again, lifting your body. You almost made it, so close, but your backside collides with the growing bulge in Jungkook’s pants and you fall down over the couch’s arch again. Is he j-just over you? Watching you?
“Sorry, Noona,” he pauses, “but can’t we try it out?” He resumes the kneading, moving closer and closer to your core, until his nimble fingers slide over your slit and under your panties, pulling them down.
Jungkook’s proposal is tempting, his touches feel good, and although you and your boyfriend have christened most of the areas in his apartment, this is definitely a new endeavor.
“I guess- oh!” Jungkook presses himself all the way inside you. Had he been ready this whole time?
His pace is quick, not wanting to waste any time. He thrusts into you deep, the hard cushion of his couch making it so there is no escaping the length of his cock and the deepness of his ruts. There’s no escaping him, not that you want to…
You can’t do much of anything but hold yourself up, keep your arms straight, be good for him and take his cock.
It makes your toes tingle realizing how trapped you were to his whims as you let yourself be used by him. You wonder what Jungkook’s thinking, why he’s so enthusiastic, does he enjoy the fact that he has you helpless, unable to fight back? Does he like using you like this, a hole to fuck?
Is it depraved that you are enjoying this so much, that you are so turned on, that you’re nearing climax already.
His hand spreads your cheeks wider so he can admire himself disappear inside you. His thumb presses against your other hole as he takes in all of you, all his.
His thumb presses inside as he grips your ass tighter until its disappeared inside you like his cock. You’ve never felt so full before, so thoroughly used. Jungkook can feel your tightness, your gushing wetness. He listens to the heightened pitches in your moans. He’s nearing his high as well… 
His cock swells as he moves faster, finding the pace that he likes most, cock rubbing your slippery walls at the perfect angle to send him to climax. 
“I’m gonna come,” he grunts, shoving himself inside you deeper, cursing at how good you feel wrapped around him. He could never get tired of this, your silky walls and soft skin and the smell of your arousal consuming him. It makes him addicted, he’s addicted to you.
“Oh shit,” he pulls out, finishing across your exposed ass and finally finally Jungkook lifts you up and lays you across his couch, taking space next to you to relax.
“Fuck, I liked that.”
”Yeah?” You hum.
“Noona, I want to tie you up.”
Your cunt clenches at his confession.
“Hmm tomorrow.”
SUNDAY
"The food was so good," you hum, "thank you." You squeeze your boyfriend's hand as you walk hand in hand to his motorcycle. The plates presented to you were so beautiful, tasted amazing, and the whole night felt so romantic. The cozy atmosphere made every moment feel so special, made you fall in love with Jungkook all over again.
And stepping into the cool night air made the end of the night feel like a weightless dream. Walking hand in hand with your boyfriend under the stars as the wind picks up, you think this must be how birds feel flying together. You feel so free.
"I'm fine with takeout for next time, you know. You don't have to be so...extravagant." You sigh.
"It's our anniversary. You deserved a real date."
You chew on your lip, bringing up the giant elephant you tried to ignore all evening. "What if someone took a photo-"
Your idol boyfriend kisses your worries away. "That's what the private room was for, baby."
You fidget anxiously. "What if one of the servers recognized you, or the kitchen staff-"
Jungkook shakes his head, smiling, "My friends come here with their girlfriends all the time."
"Yeah, but they're not you."
Jungkook hugs you, leaning the weight of his body into yours. You stumble into the side of his bike and giggle but hug him tighter.
Under the dark night, the yellow street lamps, you give Jungkook a chaste kiss.
He smiles, licking his lips and kissing you again.
"What if someone sees!"
"The restaurant has been closed for over an hour, everyone's gone home," he murmurs into your lips.
"Not the staff," you mumble as he kisses your neck.
"No one is around," he whispers teasingly. He wants you, here, now, all of you around him. "This might be the only time we can..."
Maybe it was the romance of the night, or your need to please him after such a grand gesture, or your ache to indulge in him and his irresistible charm, but you couldn't find it in you to stop Jungkook's advances, even when his hand went under your dress.
He grips under your thigh, hiking your leg over his hip.
You lean against the seat of his motorcycle. This is crazy, this is insane. It's like he's asking to get caught. He's insane. He's...so sexy.
You hide your face into his shoulder, listening to him quickly unzip his pants.
It's so out in the open, so impulsive. The bike's metal is cold against your thighs and Jungkook is so so hot. You grip his biceps, nails digging into his big muscles. The angle is awkward and the stretch is tight, and his first thrust in knocks the wind out of you.
Fuck...fuuck...it feels so good, he smells so nice, and your adrenaline is so high over the thought of you both getting caught you think you may come with only a few more deep plunges of his cock inside your tight walls.
Until you think you might have caught something out of the corner of your eye and you hastily stop him and plunk his helmet right on top of Jungkook's head, concealing his identity. 
Jungkook hugs you close and you laugh when his helmet knocks into your forehead. "C'mon you crazy. Let's get out of here and finish what we started, hmm?"
-
Jungkook was worked up, painfully hard, and you very naughtily only made it so much worse for him on the ride home with your body pressed tight against his back and your hands caressing his abs down to his cock. He almost takes you again once he arrives in the safety of his garage. He almost takes you in the elevator when it feels like time stretches the closer you get to his floor. He almost takes you right against his front door as you play with his belt buckle and nip at his neck while he fumbles to open the lock.
And then back in seclusion again, back home, he can have you finally...
 Jungkook drops you onto soft sheets, crawling over you. 
"I want to tie you up." It is a special day.
"Okay."
"Yeah?" he smiles cutely, or perhaps deviously, it's so hard to tell sometimes with your boyfriend.
"Yeah," you kiss him, "Happy Anniversary." You kiss him again. "Please, tie me up, Jungkook," you whisper in his ear.
"Fuck." Jungkook has been practicing his knots, and he decides he wants your hands behind your back, one of your legs tied to his headboard. He secures a knot under your knee, spreading your legs.
Perfect. You're perfect. You were perfect tonight, the way your eyes sparkled during your date with him, perfect when you cheekily teased him and that sparkle turned mischievous, and now you're so perfect as you look at him shyly, your eyes shining in anticipation at what he's going to do next to you. 
Jungkook can't wait to make those eyes cry in pure bliss tonight.
He kept the expensive lingerie you wore tonight for him on. He pushes your panties to the side so he can run his fingers along your slit, gathering your wetness to push back into you. You're so wet for him, already soaking from the night's previous activities.
"How's it feel, you okay?" he asks, "Nothing too tight?"
"No," you mewl out, squirming against his knots.
"Ugh, Noona...you’re so fucking wet," he grunts, quickening his pace as he watches his fingers disappear inside you. He presses down on your untied thigh to hold you still and hooks his fingers inside you, pads prodding around until you arch your back, responding to his stroking of you.
When your boyfriend sets his mind on something, there's nothing that can stop him, and Jungkook's decided he is going to make you fall apart, put you back together, mold you for him.
He strokes you with his fingers until your thighs are shaking. You grip onto your bindings, let the rope around your fingers ground you as you tighten your hold and clench down on Jungkook's digits. 
"Ahh that's it, look at you, so pretty, so fucking pretty. You're my fucking girl, all fucking mine."
"Oh, Jungkook." You're so close, it's building, tickling and deep and so overpowering, letting go is the only thing your body can do now. You spasm around Jungkook's digits, so tight around his fingers they finally stop their unrelenting movement. He pulls down the cup of your bra to massage your breasts until you fully relax and your harsh breathing becomes only soft pants.
You're tired but you open your mouth wide and invite him in when Jungkook crawls higher, positioning his throbbing cock against your lips. He slides his length over your tongue and down your throat until you're choking, gagging. And he fucks your mouth again and again, until you're sloppy, crying from his thickness, at how tight it feels, at how good it feels to see his brows furrow and his tongue play with the ring on his lower lip as he watches you choke down his length.
"You like that? You like being treated like a slut, yeah?" You whimper against his cock, thick and hot on your tongue. "My dirty little slut."
He grunts out louder, fucking your throat faster, deeper. Your high pitched whimpers match his moaning, becoming louder and more protracted, until he stills, his hips stuttering, and you start to feel his hot cum pool in your mouth. Jungkook slumps down against you, lying his head on your stomach.
You let his juices flow out of your lips and down your chin as you take in breaths. You're so warm and soft between your legs, everything about you is soft, your skin, the curves of your body, and he enjoys grabbing at you, holding you in his arms. Your slick is covering your pussy, and Jungkook starts his ministrations again, fingers deep in your sex.
"Noona, you look so sexy." You look down at your handsome boyfriend, smiling in between your legs. You feel so vulnerable and exposed to him, unable to shy away from his gaze, but the fluttering inside you jumps to your heart when Jungkook smiles and mouths 'I love you.'
He fingers you skillfully, and you don't even realize how close you were until you're coming again, body programmed to give Jungkook what he craves. He continues to play with your pussy, stroking against your sensitive walls. It becomes too much, inescapable pleasure, burning you from the inside out. The sounds of sex fills his quiet bedroom, the noise of your slick, your whimpering, your cries. He closes his eyes and revels in it, taking in your sweet sounds and the smell of you.
The pressure is too much, "I can't, no more," you whine. 
"I'm not done. Be a a good girl for me, Noona." You clench around him, at his words spoken so heatedly yet so softly.
"No- m-more," you cry out.
"I said I'm not done, understand?"
You shudder, writhing under him, your bindings pulling tight around your limbs. He replaces his fingers with his cock. You clench around him tighter as suctions his lips to your nipple, sucking harshly, thumb pressing against your clit. "Fuck, you feel so good. I could fuck you every day." He finds your tied wrists, interlacing his fingers in yours, rocking his hips into your core so deep the pleasure blinds you.
You breathe through your teeth, limbs locked at the pleasure inflicted across your body. 
You cum in silent ecstasy, drenching his cock in your juices. Jungkook's release follows you almost immediately, "Yes —ah— yes." His breathy words echo in your ears, every other thought lost in his presence.
Jungkook finishes and quickly unties you, pulling you into his embrace. "Let's go shower?"
"I think...a bath...my legs," you pant.
Jungkook kisses you sweetly and nods, lifting you in his arms.
You sigh and rest against him. You feel secure and safe with Jungkook, in his strong embrace, the way he holds you easily, you know he's got you and he'll never let anything happen to you. It's probably why you let him get away with so much, because he always takes care of your needs in the end, makes you feel loved like no other.
You gently kiss his neck, cuddled against him as his large tub fills with water.
The filling bathtub makes it easier on your tired limbs and you turn around, straddling your boyfriend.
"Mmm," Jungkook smiles against your lips as you place a series of quick kisses against his mouth. "Just relax, Noona."
"What? You don't want to?" you giggle.
"I just want to relax with you."
"Well maybe I don't want to take no for an answer," you tease.
"Oh yeah?"
"Mhm," you sigh, letting your body slump into him more.
"I don't think I can go another round tonight," he laughs.
"Really, you sure you're okay?"
"Ahh maybe I'm getting old too."
"TOO?"
Jungkook laughs and hugs your tightly, tickling you before you anger becomes too palpable.
"I love you."
"I love you too, old man."
---
Let me know your favorite day :3
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moominsuki · 1 year
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✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — it's getting harder to hold off on bakugou or based on this excerpt
࿄ ! warnings - corruption? fingering. nsfw. / note. this was very highly anticpated lol :} ty guys! minors& blank blogs dni.
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you’ve never really enjoyed sex. while that’s not really taboo to say as a woman (considering the vast & massive orgasm gap) you think you might as well give up at this point.
most guys that you’ve met are selfish and egotistical, in nature and in sexual prospects. they overrate their sexual experience, licking at a nipple slightly before plunging into your walls without a care for any telltale signs of arousal. was sex supposed to be painful and dry? either way, you were not interested in trying to disprove that hypothesis anymore. swearing to abstinence made more sense than try to fuck your way through a dry spell. nuh uh. never again.
when you start dating katsuki, you realise you can’t hold off on not doing the deed any longer. your boyfriend is an attractive, adonis of a man and the sexual tension is through the high angled roof of his penthouse whenever you come over to his place.
however it becomes every time, every single time, in which you deny his advances, push away at the brush of his pouty lips against your jaw, wriggling away from his fingers dipping into the waistband of your pants, cutting off every passionate kiss with a pull of your teeth despite the damp spot that grows on your cotton panties. katsuki paid no mind to it at the beginning of your relationship; chalking it up to jitters and shyness.
but it gets to when you’re both in his bed together and it’s currently the furthest base you both have gotten to in regards to sexual endeavours. katsuki’s tongue delves deeper into your mouth and he uses an arm to wrap a leg around his waist. it’s only then when the gravity of the situation hits you. you panic and katsuki can feel you stiffening up.
katsuki pulls apart from the kiss and the hurt of the constant rejections is apparent through the furrow of his gold blond brows and the slight, dejected frown stretched across his lips.
“i get it,” katsuki huffs, breaking apart from your hold to get up and leave.
you panic again, and this time your heart sinks at the thought of katsuki leaving because of your constant shot downs and you sit up to pull him back down but the man is fast and he’s practically hulk so you decide on running in front of him to stop him.
you know you should’ve explained this to him before to prevent all of this stupid confusion but it’s embarrassing; the idea that you’ve never gotten off through sex even though you’re the furthest thing from a virgin. and even if you told him this half baked story, what would change? would he be any different from the others?
looking up at the red irises that bore into you so deeply and expectantly, you sigh. you finally tell him why you’ve been so avoidant to his advances with an indignant, worried wave of your hands, “it’s not you, it’s me”, and ,“i’ve never orgasmed through penetrative stimulation.”
katsuki raises a brow and you have to cover your face to hide the blooming pink spreading across your face when you tell him that “sex has just never been enjoyable for me… ‘m sorry for not telling you sooner.”
much to your surprise, you feel two hands pull at your waist before pulling your hands down off your face and the blond above you is smirking, so deliciously that your thighs subconsciously rub against it each other to prevent the ache that’s growing between them.
it’s also how you found yourself sat opposite his bedroom mirror, leaning against his bed with spread legs and with your back pressed against katsuki’s bare chest and your hands resting on his muscled forearms. all of your clothes are somewhere strewn across his bedroom - honestly, you can’t even care to remember, with the way your boyfriend has two fingers angled and dipped inside your dripping cunt.
it’s so noisy and so wet, and you should be flustered by it but with every squelch of his fingers dragging along the walls of your pussy, he brushes against that soft, cakey spot inside you and you’re already spasming. is this the third? the fourth? you don’t know how many times you’ve creamed all over his thick fingers and you can’t bring yourself to even look at the mess you’re definitely making.
but you can hear, no, feel how turned on katsuki is behind you. to think he’s the first man to ever make you feel this good, to make you orgasm so many times that you’re delirious with pleasure? he was going to ruin you so that whenever you were out and about without him, you’d think of him pressing his thumb languidly against your clit while he added another finger to stretch you out, to barrage an attack against the gooey spot inside your cunt until you couldn’t take it anymore.
katsuki drags his thumb off your clit to pinch at your nipple and to grab softly at your jaw so that you could see what he was doing to you in the mirror. the constant ministrations already have you hurtling towards another climax, if the erratic movements and heady gush of your cunt had anything to tell him.
“jus’ like that, princess,” he coos, “how about one more f’me? then i’ll give you my cock. how’s that sound, pretty girl?”
your bleary, wet eyes blink up at him and you weakly nod, as if you’re in a trance and katsuki chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before moving his fingers again.
he really was going to be the death of you.
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