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#do you know how much your art makes me smile
theoldsports · 2 days
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SOUR.
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Art Donaldson x Reader (Patrick Zweig x Reader) | SORRY series | 4.2k words
it’s finally here by popular demand. Patrick has entered the plot. this is set before all of the prior chapters, two days before the Donaldson wedding. can be read as part of the SORRY SERIES (read more episodes of their lives here) or on its own. lemme know if you’d like to be on the taglist.
warnings: 18+. angst. it’s brutal angst. more than allusions to Patrick’s canonical use of hard drugs. rehab, allusion to an OD, mention of Art’s disordered eating patterns. they’re bad for each other in a good way. the Donaldsons have a friendly dog. coveting another man’s wife. discussion of niche sexual fantasies. making out. biting. tornados/extreme weather. running away from your problems.
“Art?”
“Nngh.”
“Artie, wake up.”
“‘M up. Fhhh… ‘m up. What’s the matter?” Art grumbled with half shut eyes. “Somethin’ wrong?” He whispered even though they were alone. It was nighttime which meant whispering to Art.
“I don’t like this storm.”
What a sign that storm should have been.
Art smirked. “We’re getting married in, like, three days and you’re worried about the weather?”
“There’s a tornado warning. Or watch. Whichever the worse one is. I saw it on the news.”
Art frowned. “You ever been through a tornado?”
“No.”
Art rolled over from his position in [Y/N]’s arms to face her nose to nose. “I have. A lot. Close your eyes,” he commanded softly. His arm slotted into the dip of her waist and pulled her closer. “Close ‘em for me. That’s it, that’s it.” He coaxed as she followed his directions.
“I don’t see what this has to do with—“
“Shh, listen,” they both got quiet. Rain pelted against the windows. Wind whistled. Branches cracked and crunched. Thunder boomed. [Y/N] could see the gleam of lightning even behind her eyelids. “Hear it?”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
“Yeah.”
“Great. Congrats. Your ears are workin’ best as they can,” Art teased to try and get his fiancé to crack a smile. “Now, which one’s the loudest? Which of the sounds?”
“You breathing.”
“I’m flattered. Which one outside?”
[Y/N] listened. “Right now? The rain, I think.”
“We’re in the clear for now. Let me know when the wind’s louder. Like that real, real crazy whooshing, whistling sound. When it starts whipping like that, we’ll go in the bathroom and lock the doors, yeah? Hell, we can head in now if it would make you feel better?”
“What if I fall asleep before the weather gets worse?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay awake,” Art yawned. “How about I get you up if I notice a disturbance. I gotta take care of my wife, right?”
“I’m not your wife.”
Art sighed. “…I know. I’m just practicing.”
Fortunately, no tornado ever touched down. And Art was still there when [Y/N] woke up.
It always amazed her that Art was still there everyday. For every nasty thing she said to him that she didn’t mean, every argument where she told him Patrick was right, every tennis match won or lost, every natural disaster, every tear shed. Art was there for all of it. He liked the bad moments as much as the good ones because it meant simply more time spent by [Y/N]’s side. He wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.
It was too much power, [Y/N] frequently thought, that she had over Art.
[Y/N] faced Art and brushed his strawberry blonde hair away from his forehead. Art often looked exhausted. He wore his tiredness on his face and shoulders. The exhaustion of constantly chasing, people-pleasing and being a professional athlete could destroy a kid. Art wore it like a Boy Scout badge. [Y/N] could watch him look relaxed forever. It was so rare he looked like that.
“Good morning, guard dog,” [Y/N] whispered. Art stirred. She could tell he was awake even though his eyes were shut due to that crease the reappeared between his eyebrows. It was never not there in his waking moments. Slowly, Art’s hand crept up and gently clutched [Y/N]’s wrist. Art used his grip to slide [Y/N]’s hand down his own drowsy face. He planted a kiss on her palm before tiredly looking at her. “Good morning.” She repeated to him.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” [Y/N] replied. Gray sunlight filtered through the window. “You ready for today?” She smirked.
“What’s today?”
“Patrick’s in town.”
Art dramatically threw his arm over his face and groaned. “I thought he was in tomorrow… Everything was so peaceful… And quiet,” Art mumbled into his elbow. He couldn’t keep a straight face for long and resolved into a soft laugh. “Whose babysitting?” He asked, peering his blue and brown eyes over his arm.
“I’m picking up the cake today, so I figured I could use his strength.”
Art sat up a bit. “You’re getting it today?”
“In the later afternoon, yeah. Why?”
“It’s gonna be, like, stale.”
[Y/N] glanced over at Art. “If we had gotten cupcakes like I wanted, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“You’re such a little jerk.” Art teased.
“Me!” [Y/N] gasped. “It doesn’t even matter because it’s not like you’re gonna eat it anyway because you don’t eat anything.”
“Little jerk!” Art said with his crooked smile widening. He leaned in, slotting an arm over her. “You heard me. You’re a little… troublemaking jerk.” Art’s nose almost pressed against hers.
“Oh yeah? Why are you marrying me then, hm?”
“…You’re pretty,” Art grinned almost timidly, bowing his head. His flat vocal timber sounded like the verbal equivalent of a blush. “Like, really, really pretty. Even if you suck.” Tenderly, Art leaned the rest of the way in to kiss [Y/N]. Once and then twice and then seven times. Maybe fourteen.
And they would have stayed like that all day.
They would have.
BANG BANG BANG.
Like gunshots.
Their lips parted and they held long eye contact. They paused. They sighed.
“Patrick.” They both said.
With a bend of his arms, the full weight of Art’s toned body collapsed on top of [Y/N]’s.
“Pretty baby!”
“No. ‘M pretending he’s not out there,” He laid flat on her, head on her chest. “Can’t go anywhere now.”
BANG BANG BANG on the front door again. Cheese, the couple’s Labrador mix barked at the sound from downstairs.
“Art!”
“Mhm-mm. Nope. Too bad. Sucks for Patrick.”
[Y/N] huffed. “You’re upsetting the dog.”
“He’s upsetting the dog,” Art started to laugh. “He showed up early. I’m just laying here. Hey, hey!” Art jeered as [Y/N] wiggled out from underneath him from backwards. She tried to inch away off the side of the bed. Her shoulders slumped against the carpet, while Art held her legs in place on the bed. [Y/N] dangled in a half on-half off sort of way. Her oversized Stanford t-shirt rolled up during the drama, exposing her breasts to Art. Unashamed, he stared.
[Y/N] twisted her foot into the side of Art’s face, causing a small cry of disgust from him. Just enough chaos for her to slip away. Without hesitation, she tossed the lightweight door open and skittered down the stairs with Art’s long gate keeping pace behind her. His arms reached out in an attempt to grab her. “He’s early! He can wait! He’s never been early in his whole fucking life!” Art laughed. Cheese jumped and barked at the hysteria.
The chase continued until [Y/N]’s hand hit the doorknob and chain. She unlocked it immediately. As [Y/N] ripped the door open, Art’s arm encircled her waist yanking her to the side with the force of his momentum, causing her to laugh with glee.
And on the other side of the door was Patrick Zweig.
Smiling impishly, Patrick took in the disheveled appearances of his two favorite people. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Nice boner.” Patrick smirked at Art, while he pulled [Y/N] into a side hug.
Art didn’t have a boner, or at least a proper one. But the comment was enough to get Art to look. He rolled his eyes and pulled Patrick in for a hug. Cheese ran over to the door for attention, when Art greeted Patrick.
Art closed the door. Patrick ducked down to greet the Labrador too. He liked Cheese, but wouldn’t necessarily choose to be around a dog in his free time the way that Art and [Y/N] did. Cheese really liked Patrick, much to his chagrin, so he pretended to be nice. While Patrick sat on the floor with the animal, he looked up at his best friends. “What’s with the clothes? You just get up?” Art with no shirt in just tube socks and boxers, and [Y/N] in Art’s old college shirt and underwear. They had all seen each other like this so many times growing up that no one particularly cared that the future Donaldsons looked so post coital. It was pretty normal. Patrick’s smirk sliced further across his unwashed face with the ghost of a laugh. “Were you guys fucking?” He said like a horny teenager.
[Y/N] laughed hard and kissed her lifelong best friend on top of the head on her way to make a pot of coffee in the kitchen. “No.” Art sighed in disappointment, flopping onto one of the barstools in the kitchen. This disappointment was either disappointment in Patrick for asking, or disappointment in the lack of sex due to Patrick’s arrival. It was Patrick’s fault either way.
When the dog got bored, Cheese wandered into the kitchen for nonexistent scraps. Patrick pulled up a chair next to Art and dropped his backpack on the floor. “How’s it going, man? You look good. Feeling ready?” He asked, leaning forward to tap Art across his bare knee.
Art nodded as if it say it’s a sure thing. “Thanks. We miss you. We appreciate you being here. It means a lot.”
“I appreciate you being here,” [Y/N] cut in. “Because you’re in my half of the wedding party.” She and Art were always in constant competition over who loved Patrick more. Art wanted him to be his best man. [Y/N] won out, though, having known him since the age of seven and Art only since age twelve.
“Ladies please. Not all at once.” Patrick said. He stood from his chair and wrapped his long arms around [Y/N] in a proper hug finally. Briefly, his chin rested on her head. He stopped before it went on too long.
“Good to see you, kid. How’s it going?” At two months older, [Y/N] had been calling Patrick ‘kid’ diminutively for almost two decades. It was cuter before he got so tall.
“I called you yesterday.” He replied dryly, stepping back to look at her. [Y/N] noted Patrick’s intimately familiar eyes. Too wide, pupils too dilated. Hm. He wore a long sleeved sweater and jeans. And dirty tennis shoes.
“You bring something nicer than this for Saturday?” She teased, pulling on one of his holey sleeves.
Art snorted at Patrick’s expense and cracked a smile. His freckled elbows leaned onto the counter. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here for two seconds, ‘n you’re already giving me tsuris?” Patrick quipped to [Y/N].
“Tsuris… Never thought I’d say it, but you sound like your mom, Patrick.” [Y/N] scoffed. Art snorted a laugh too.
Patrick frowned. “Guess I have to kill myself then.” He joked harshly to more laughter from the other two. M
“Yep. Have some coffee. Both of you. I’m going to put pants on.” [Y/N] turned away and moved to the stairs.
“Aw, do you have to?” Patrick called after her. [Y/N] tossed a middle finger up over her shoulder as she walked away. Art hissed at Patrick’s comment.
“Do you have to flirt with my wife?” Art sneered without malice.
Patrick smiled that boyish small, wicked, unassuming smile. “She’s not your wife yet.” He snapped back. Art smiled at him in return. The two held each other’s gaze adorned with sick grins for a moment before both of them dissolved into laughter. Everything was a competition, but it was only real if they brought it up.
Fast forward a few hours and Patrick and [Y/N] were in the car. Art had taken off for a haircut because his mom thought he looked like a messy little punk and wedding pictures were forever. [Y/N] drove because Patrick drove too fast and without mercy. He had a sports car once when he was in school and still spoke to his parents daily and had notably wrapped it around a telephone pole and walked out without nary a scratch. How’s that for nine lives?
[Y/N] had a sedan.
She and Patrick both held a cigarette out each of their respective windows as she drove.
“You should really quit, y’know.” She told Patrick.
He leaned over and blew smoke in her face. “Yeah, I’ll quit when you do.”
Patrick’s rude gesture didn’t bear acknowledging. “It’s different. You’re an athlete. I watch movies and review them for a living. It’s expected of me. You… you’re making your performance actively worse. You’re kneecapping yourself by choice.” [Y/N] explained.
“I’m good enough to take the hit.”
[Y/N] laughed and took a drag of her cigarette, asking it out the window. “And you’re arrogant enough to make that comment. Sometimes I look at you and you’re still thirteen. I swear to God. It’s fuckin’ funny,” she said. It was quiet for a moment. “Art, though. He doesn’t smoke anymore.”
“I don’t believe you,” Patrick replied immediately with a wild look in his eye. That was apparently a big surprise. “He’s totally lying to you. There’s no way—“
“Nope! Quit on his own too. He just decided he was done with it one day and got all pro-athlete about it.”
“Y-you’re wrong! You’re so wrong. He’s a liar. Last time I was in town, we—“
“No. No fucking way,” [Y/N] shook her head in manic disbelief. “When you came by to—“
“Mhm. Yep. On the patio. You didn’t notice?”
[Y/N] shook her head. “No sense of smell because of… I’m a smoker. I just… He’s such a shit.”
“A shit and a hypocrite!” They both laughed. When the glee dampened naturally and the cigarette butts were pitched out the window, Patrick looked over at [Y/N]. One good, long look. “You ready for Saturday?” Patrick asked because he was a masochist.
[Y/N] found herself often thinking back on this moment. Was this when it had gone wrong beyond repair?
[Y/N] sighed. She would only ever tell Patrick and maybe Art this. “Yes and no.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t say it like that. I have been ready to marry Art since I was, like, seventeen years old. It is unfathomable to me how much love I am capable of giving him, y’know? If he wanted the Mona Lisa, I’d be robbing the Louvre tomorrow. He’s it for me,” she said. Patrick faked a smile very convincingly and nodded for her to go on. “What I’m not looking forward to is everyone I know being in the same room at the same time. I don’t like other people except you and Art. And my editor. That’s about it.”
“You’re not at all worried about spending all that time married to someone?” Patrick tried to jab at her with his words while he scratched his right forearm.
“Not with Art.”
“Wow. That’s awfully grownup of you.”
“Yeah, well. I’m a grownup. With a smokin’ hot fiancé. And he actually cares if I live or die. Isn’t that crazy? My parents weren’t like that with each other. It’s… Am I allowed to say how grateful I am to you for bringing him home for break that one time, or is that stupid?”
“It’s kinda stupid,” he agreed teasingly. In reality, he wanted more than anything to put himself out of his misery. My fault, my fault, my fault. The words looped in Patrick’s head on constant repeat. He wanted to rip his skin off for so many different reasons. He couldn’t take it and he was trapped. Fuck.
Patrick scratched his right forearm again.
“Truth or dare?” Patrick slurred. He was twenty-one and drunk for [Y/N]’s birthday. She, Art and Patrick sat on the disgusting archaic carpet in Art’s dorm room.
“Uh, truth.” [Y/N] said too soberly to sober.
“Boring!” Art said, putting his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh.
Patrick took a long swing of his beer while he thought. “Okay, okay. What’s your weirdest sexual fantasy?” He asked.
“Ew.” [Y/N] wrinkled her nose.
Art thought the question was epic, but wasn’t going to facilitate his girl’s discomfort. “Hey, it’s her birthday, she doesn’t have to—“
“Um, no. I’ll do it. This is an actual dream I had. I think about it kinda all the time. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud. It so dumb. So, it’s Art and I’m sitting at the kitchen table with coffee or something. And Art… sings me Happy Birthday like Marilyn Monroe did for JFK. And he’s dressed like Marilyn, but like a boy. No dress, but like the boy version of that look. Then we fuck. That’s weirder than you wanted. That was weird, right?” [Y/N] rambled.
Art leaned in closer to her. They were all drunk as skunks and he couldn’t help bite his lip. His arm pulled her closer to him. Art was handsy when drunk, they were all learning.
“Whose Jackie O?” Patrick asked.
“No Jackie O. And I’m not JFK. He’s just Marilyn. Gentlewomen prefer blondes.” [Y/N] had laughed so hard at that while she tangled her fingers in Art’s sandy hair.
The car ride to get cake and the drive back was the last proper conversation [Y/N] and Patrick had. The pair got home. Nothing seemed unusual to [Y/N] at all. They talked the whole time without any dry spells. The cake, in pieces to be assembled, was carefully toted in and placed way out of the way from disaster. Patrick took his bag to the bathroom, claiming he was going to shower.
[Y/N] shouted after him. “You know where the towels are!”
Patrick looked back over his shoulder at her with a smirk and closed the bathroom door behind him.
And he went out through the bathroom window.
[Y/N] had no idea he had gone until she heard his car start. For a minute, she thought it was the neighbors. She walked halfway down her hallway and saw the bathroom door open. No running shower water, no half nude Patrick shaving or something. She ran back down the hall and glanced out the kitchen window and watched his new white SUV whip out of the driveway.
[Y/N] stood there for several minutes. Staring and staring and staring after him. Not a single effort to move. The first thing she did was pick up her blue slidephone from beside the sink. She called Art, not Patrick. Patrick made his choice.
[Y/N] hadn’t realized she was crying when Art picked up on the other line.
“Honey? Honey, you there? You buttdial me?” Art said. [Y/N] thinks he said shit like that for several moments before she spoke. She just faced the window and stared for what felt like ages.
“Patrick’s gone.”
“Hm?”
“Patrick’s gone.”
“What do you mean he’s gone.”
“He climbed through the bathroom window and drove off. We-we didn’t have a fight. Or-or… He just left. Like it was nothing.”
“I’m on my way. Stay where you are.”
Art rushed back in his blue-black jeep wrangler. It ripped into the smooth driveway causing the tires to damn near squeal. When he got out of his car and bounded to the door, it was clear that about half of his hair had been cut instead of all of it. [Y/N] would have laughed in an ideal situation.
“Baby, hey, what happened?” Art said breathlessly as he unlocked the door. [Y/N] sat at the seldom used dining room table the two of them used to hold their junk mail, sitting straight up and looking through Art. Art was alarmed. She never sat at the table and rarely was her face so expressionless. She was always feeling, expressing, something. He couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, but her eyes were red.
“Patrick seems to have decided not to join us this weekend.” [Y/N] said clearly.
Art closed up the door behind him and walked over to [Y/N]. His scraggly hair and bewildered expression lessened into some devastated softness. He knelt, as he often did, in front of her and took her softer hands in his. “Can you tell me what happened?” Art asked quietly. He felt angry tears sting at the corner of his own traitorous eyes.
“We went out, got the cake, got smoothies, and came back. We… He didn’t say anything weird. Nothing happened.”
“Okay. And then?”
“No, I mean, nothing happened. Like, he was on his best behavior. Like, he was doing so well. He seemed okay. Really okay, y’know?” [Y/N]’s voice broke and finally betrayed her. She choked on her last words and the tears followed. Art’s right hand traveled up the side of [Y/N] face to rest there in comfort. “We talked about everything, like always. He was totally fine. I swear. Then we got home and he says I’m gonna take a shower, or something. And then I heard his car pull away. That’s it.”
“I’m gonna fucking murder him.” Art said, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. He stood from the floor and pulled his own phone out of his pocket. Art leaned against the table [Y/N] sat at. He called Patrick. Then he called him again. And another time. Up to what felt like twelve times or so. He left voicemail after voicemail.
“Hey, call me.”
“Hey, it’s Art. Call me.”
“Art again. Call me back. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’m sorry about the last one. Patrick, call me. Are you coming home?”
“Hey, man. Fuck you. Fuck off.”
“I’m sorry about the last one too. I’m… Understandably, I’m kinda… Fucking pissed at you. I don’t need to talk to you like that, though. Are you okay? Are you safe? What happened? You can talk to me.”
“You’re an asshole. I wish you could see the look on [Y/N]’s face right now.”
“Don’t come back.”
Eventually, the voicemail box was full.
[Y/N] reached wordlessly for Art’s hand. She could feel his rare anger climbing. He got this ridiculous blush across his cheeks when he got angry and she could see it against the sunset’s glow. “Art?”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry this happened,” He said, turning his eyes to her. “I’m so sorry, hon.”
“It’s not your fault. You don’t have to apologize, pretty baby.”
“Yeah, but he’s my best friend. He’s your best friend,” He ranted. “That was a dick move to leave like that. I’m sorry that happened to you. He’s a piece of shit.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“No! I do. I do mean that. For the last year, he’s treated us, especially you like trash. Do you not see how much more you deserve, [Y/N]? I don’t know what’s going on with him… Do you?”
“He’s…” [Y/N] looked down. “You think he’s using again?”
Art didn’t say anything, he just looked down. That was answer enough. [Y/N] buried her face in her hands with a shuddering sob. Art pulled her to her feet and into his chest. He buried his face in her hair, unable to hold his own tears back. Eventually, the pair landed on the sagging green couch. Art’s legs wrapped around [Y/N]’s middle. They kept the news on all night. In case he matched an accident description. They called hospitals and hunted for John Does that were over six feet with dark hair and stubble.
“What are we gonna do? He’s… He’s not coming back, is he?” [Y/N] whispered. Cheese rested his heavy beige head on her thigh. He obviously didn’t understand why Patrick had gone either.
“No, I don’t think he is,” Art replied, lips against her forehead. “I’m sorry.
Pathetically, [Y/N] raised her head to Art. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know what I did.”
“You didn’t do anything.” He said. [Y/N] forced Art to lean back against the couch and she laid her head on his chest. Cheese circled for a new position where he could be touching them both at the same time.
[Y/N] knew it was a little bit her fault. She leaned up and kissed Art on the corner of his lips. “It’s my fault.”
“Then it’s both of our faults. You can’t talk about yourself like that. You’re the only you I’ve got, babe.” Art huffed tiredly.
[Y/N] dug her hands into Art’s hair the way he liked. “Can I fix your haircut? Haircut’s a generous way to describe it.”
“Damn, I was actually trying out this new thing. You don’t think it’s cool?”
“Yeah, it’s big for guys who blindly answer their wife’s phone calls, I hear.” [Y/N] said weakly.
Wife was all Art heard and he melted.
“I have never known someone I love as much as you,” Art said. “I’m all in with you. You know that, right?”
“‘Course I do.” [Y/N] did know. She sunk her teeth into the freckled skin on Art’s right shoulder gently and he moaned. Over top of the spot, [Y/N] left a trail of kisses down Art’s bicep.
“I’m gonna call his mom.” He said once [Y/N]’s pace had slowed. Art’s stomach growled. When he got upset, he didn’t eat. [Y/N] told herself it was because he had forgotten to in stressful moments, but wondered if it was a punishment instead. She pretending she hadn’t heard the sound.
“They don’t talk.”
“I know. Just in case he turns up.”
Patrick did turn up. About ten hours later, wet and unconscious in the emergency room. Following a psych eval, Patrick went to a short stint in rehab. He had gone once prior at the age of twenty. Needless to say Patrick missed the wedding. It was too much money to up and cancel, according to Art’s piece of shit stepfather, Douglas. Patrick made no efforts to contact the Donaldsons since leaving, as he left or following rehab. Despite all of Art and [Y/N]’s tireless efforts to find him, all they had to show for it was his disconnected phone number and a crippling feeling of shame and loss. Patrick had vanished from their lives without giving either one of them a say.
Patrick was gone.
But Art was there for all of it.
TAGLIST:
@toxiclovergirl @basicallynotbreathing @miniemonie2001 @valentine333 @tremendoushorsepeachbanana-blog @athxnss @babyspice6 @diorrfairy @donaldsonsdarling @muthafuckingstargirl @avylanchce @shysstuff @soberbabes @ysuftmikey @pussy-f41ry
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nyashykyunnie · 1 day
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˗ˏˋ E-rank(?)! Jinwoo x E-rank Witch! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
‼️[ TW: Yandere Jinwoo, Violence , Manipulation]
꒰ Reader's Powers are inspired by the beautiful manga titled "Witch Hat Atelier". Please give it a read if you're into otherwordly art and adore fantasy! ꒱
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╰┈➤ ❝ [ Let Me Tear Apart Everything that Touched You ] ¡! ❞
You really don't know when exactly it had started, all you knew was that Jinwoo suddenly had a second puberty and his height doubled or maybe tripled. His lanky body turned from noodlesticks to buff and solid muscles seemingly carved out of stone with how sturdy they are. His muscles would in fact, even hurt you even as you try to inflict pain on him.
You wanted to ask him about it really, but maybe it's just Jinwoo having not reached full puberty in his teens so his hormones decided to finally pop-in and say hi in order to compensate for their lack of action during his supposed growing days.
Either way, you're proud of him.
Jinwoo's growth spurt had inspired you to work even harder. Thus, you started entering more and more gates much to Jinwoo's dismay.
You two had even argued over it several times but it ends with Jinwoo sighing in defeat and begging, begging, you to immediately leave the gate should anything weird transpire.
It's not that he doesn't have faith in you or he is underestimating you, it's just that he knows all too well the dangers of the gates. Still, he steps aside and lets you be on your way.
Your powers aren't really too great to be honest, consuming even. You needed to draw various symbols on the papers you carry around in order to cast spells. Sure, they could be intimidating sometimes since you can cast spells that are big— But otherwise? It's really just for show and doesn't do much damage.
Oftentimes you are ridiculed along with Jinwoo, two jokes of a hunter dating. Birds of the same feather really do flock together. Just like Jinwoo, you had your fair share of mockery and on more brutal days— Your fellow hunters would beat you up when a raid goes unsuccesful.
You never told Jinwoo about those days, you could never have the heart to make him worry more when he is already busy providing for his family and especially for his mother who is stuck in eternal sleep.
Swallow it done and smile whenever you're with him.
That's what you always do, praying so hard that your deceitful grins could fool him and mask the pain you're desperately trying to hide from his pretty grey eyes.
But... Now.
Maybe you should have listened to Jinwoo earlier when he said you shouldn't go out today.
What a big mistake was it.
You foolishly signed a contract with a raid team and did not thoroughly read the terms and conditions just like Jinwoo had strictly instructed you to do so.
Now you're here, absolutely horrified as the group of burly and violent men inched towards you, bloodlust evident as they inched closer and closer— Backing you up on a corner.
You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream, but your fight or flight instincts instantly turned into freeze.
Not a single muscle in your body would obey the hammering demands of your heart and mind to move— To run.
As your fear-stricken eyes glanced back at those animal-like men, you started to silently curse yourself too.
You should have been good and listened to Jinwoo, because that man's intuition had always been right. You shouldn't have argued with him when he pressed you to stay, you should have been goo.
You should have.
Now who's the fool cornered like a frozen rabbit in the den of lions? Who's the idiot about to piss their pants from sheer fear?
You shouldn't have cussed out Jinwoo before you left the door.
You should have said that you love him.
You should have told him how proud you are of his progress.
You should have told him that you would always be by his side.
You should have given him goodbye kisses.
But now, the last memory Jinwoo would have of you is your prissy face spatting out how nonesensically overprotective he is of you and that he should be worried about himself instead.
You closed your eyes, accepting your fate until you felt a shift in the air around you. The winds suddenly whistled an eerie tune and you stumbled on your feet as the shadows beneath you quivered and rose to be black flames.
In that blaze formed a man, a distinctive blue fabric popping out of nowhere and a shade that you instantly recognized.
Jinwoo.
His back was turned towards you, his hand shielding you away from the preying bastards.
"Fuck..." One of your kidnappers cusses, grinning maniacally. "I almost shit my pants there buddy, you tryna fucking film a movie or something?"
"He's got quite the pretty boy face, bet it'll be prettier once we rough him about. huh?" Another cackles, flaring Jinwoo's temper even more.
"Sarang," Jinwoo's deep voice calls out, causing your heart to tremble at the dangerous tone. "Close your eyes."
You obey his orders and close your eyes immediately. After having learned your lesson, you're not taking any chances after hearing that dangerous tone in his normally gentle and loving voice.
The next thing that happened was a cacophony of tortured moans and wails. Maybe you could hear some other things snapping, a sound you pray to never know since along with those sounds comes with the chorus of tortured cries for mercy.
Eventually, the brutal sounds would come to an end and you feel someone towering over you.
"Babe," Jinwoo calls out and your eyes would flutter open as you feel gentle fingers caressing the side of your cheek. "Look at me."
And so you do, your gaze falling on his blood-splattered features that looked hauntingly handsome.
Your sobs would eventually come out, both from being struck by fear from the earlier events, to feeling bad about how you yelled at him earlier, to feeling remourseful that this man had to put blood on his hands because of your recklessness.
A series of sorries would spill out from your mouth and Jinwoo only comforts you by pulling you to his chest.
"It's fine, it's fine" He says, kissing the side of your head affectionately as he runs a hand on the back of your head. "It's alright, don't cry, don't say sorry. I know it was scary. I know, baby."
His words would fill you with a sense of relief, not knowing the malintent behind it.
Truthfully, Jinwoo already knew of your predicament and had been aware since you first made contact with those bastards. But he needed you to have a glimpse of the horrors, he needed to make you afraid so that this wouldn't happen again.
He hoped by doing this, you would become traumatized and never dare to step in a gate ever again.
Reckless. Yes.
But he would do anything to keep you out of danger.
Again, and again, he kisses your pretty little face, whispering words of comfort in your ears and subtly manipulating you into never stepping inside these horrible places again.
All you need is Jinwoo.
You wont have to worry about money any more.
So don't step into these places, just be a good doll and stay home.
Let him do all the dirty work.
Or else Jinwoo will have to do this again. You don't want that, do you, dear?
You wouldn't want Jinwoo to cut off everyone's necks, do you?
Good.
Good.
Good.
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A/N: Whoopsies, I made another Yandere Jinwoo fic... Hahah... Sorry guys.
112 notes · View notes
pixiiipie · 10 hours
Note
As someone who’s desperately into subby boys I love your stuff. If you find the time would you write something for Rafayel? I love that fishie. 😩
mirror fucking | sub rafayel
includes: dom!reader | gn!reader | strap-on used | blowjob (receiving) | pegging (giving) | handjob (barely mentioned) (giving)
sorry this is so long and it takes a little while to get going!! i’m trying to work on a more to the point writing style but i can’t help waffling TT
i don’t know too much about rafayel atm so i hope i wrote him decently for you | and thank u so much <33! i love writing subby boys so i’m here to deliver to you all
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it was common for rafayel to suddenly disappear like this. these long periods of silence usually meant that he was busy working on his next piece but he’d always send you the occasional message when he was thinking about you or felt lonely. with you in his life, it was hard to continue as he used to. he’s so needy.
this time however, his messages were less frequent and when he did message, he seemed uninterested. either he was incredibly focused or his painting wasn’t going well. worrying a little, you decide to drop in on him by surprise to give yourself piece of mind but also because you missed him dearly.
———
walking into his painting room, you admire all the works of art surrounding you but only one was worth looking at. sat at the top of his ladder, rafayel stared at a blank canvas silently muttering to himself. the setting sun’s rays streamed through the windows and made him appear otherworldly. you let out a content sigh full of love. “hey, what are you doing here?” rafayel asks, finally noticing you.
“getting a strong sense of deja vu” you say with a laugh. blocking the canvas from his sight, he turns to you giving you his full attention. “if i fall, do you think you can catch me this time?” he teases. “of course princess.” you retort back. rafayel smiles but it doesn’t feel sincere. he looks distracted.
“come down my love.” you say, holding the ladder for him and extending your hand to him. rafayel sighs and nods slowly making his way down and taking your hand when he reaches you. seeing your expression, he already knows what you’ll ask him.
“i need a new piece for this exhibit i’ve been invited to but… i just can’t think. i’m going to tell them i can’t do it.” rafayel says, avoiding your gaze. bringing a hand to his cheek, you gently move his head to face yours and give him a chaste kiss. you feel his body relax with your touch and as you pull away, he chases your lips desperate for more. rubbing your thumb over his cheek, your heart melts seeing your boy like this. he leans into your hand and holds it there with his, silently begging for you to stay with him.
“the more you force yourself to make something, the less chance you have being successful.” you say but quickly continue before he can cut in with a remark “you’re going to burn yourself out even more and become frustrated. art block is a killer you just need to direct your attention elsewhere.” your other hand wraps around his waist and massages small circles into it.
“i… i really need to make something new. people will get bored.” rafayel quietly says moving his head into your neck and surrounding himself with your scent- comforting him. pressing a quick kiss to his neck, you start shuffling over to his floor length mirror with him still attached. such a baby but you loved how he felt so safe with you. “how about,” you whisper, tapping him to get his attention, “you do a portrait? or even a self portrait you haven’t done one of those in a while.” rafayel slowly lifts his head up, glances at himself in the mirror and goes back to his hiding place. all his motivation had gone and you could tell his self esteem was struggling as a result.
“oh my love.” you say, running a hand through his hair, “i love the cool tone colours you use and the dreamy/underwater look you make so effortlessly.” with your encouragement, he lifts his head again and watches your eyes in the mirror. “those are my favourites. just look at all the colours you could include especially…” you say as you pull him into another kiss “…when i do this.” and gesture at his flushed expression. “that’s my favourite colour.”
his heart couldn’t take it anymore. this was the perfect distraction. oh he’d forgotten just how much he’d missed you and your touch. all he wanted now was to feel you and for you to look at him. “please… oh darling touch me more please.” rafayel begs pressing his forehead against you. with a smile, you snake a hand down to softly squeeze his ass which made him gasp. “woah… getting handsy already.” he tries to say in his usual teasing tone but it comes out more breathless than he’d liked.
“how about, to help you get started, i show you some anatomy references you could use?” you say gesturing to the bag your brought. rafayel could only nod, wondering a little to what that could allude to but letting you go to fetch it. he was left standing breathing heavily and a ‘problem’ forming between his legs which his was quick to attempt to hide. you didn’t reveal what you had brought until you were stood next to him again. “on your knees.” you commanded, motioning with your eyes and taking what you had brought out from behind you. your strap on.
his eyes never left yours as he knelt down infront of you. rafayel patiently held out his hands to help you adjust your harness and kissed your legs all while doing so. “you know what to do now.” you say, playing with his hair with one hand before taking his chin. “of course.” he says with a smile but a little shaky. obediently, kisses the tip before licking long strips up the sides. you loved watching him treat your strap like a real dick. “mm you’re so big” he said with a sly smile. then, inch by inch, he slowly worked his way up your strap so that his nose touched your abdomen. he tried so hard to please you even if you couldn’t strictly feel pleasure from this. he was adorable to watch as he tried every trick in the book to not gag but his teary eyes betrayed him. such a show off.
such a good boy.
“you look so beautiful right now, my love. look” you say and point at the mirror. flicking his eyes to his reflection, rafayel saw just how desperate he was for you. on his knees as if you were his god. he took this opportunity to show off and kissed down the shaft before taking you in the entire way and moving up and down moaning the entire way (which were half fake and half from his attempt of his trousers rubbing against him).
“can you fuck me now? please? it’s been so long.” he begs, rubbing his cheek against your strap. “on all fours sweet boy.” you say, bending over to kiss his forehead. rafayel tried not to appear excited and instead put on a little show of taking off his trousers and bending over for you. “hello pretty boy.” you say as he stretches like a cat to try and tease you. kneeling beside him, you trace your fingers down his body and hook onto his underwear before slowly pulling them down. he shivered at your motion. you reach a hand around for him to coat your fingers while the other flicks his dick causing him to gasp. “d-don’t tease.” he says half confident and half whiny. “sorry but you’re too cute. this won’t take long” you say as you begin to push your fingers into his hole.
rafayel tried to be patient but you’d worked him up too much and it’d been too long. “mmghh that’s enough… i-it’s good.” he moaned weakly grabbing your wrist, “haah- oh goddd please i need youu.”
“okay then if you say so.” you half warn. nothing would be able to change his mind now and to be honest, you wanted this badly too. you really wanted him to feel good. “but one condition baby,” you align yourself with his hole making his try to push his hips back, “you can’t stop looking at yourself.” and with that, you start to slowly push in holding onto his hips. as you did, you grabbed him by the chin with one hand and made him look at himself. “aww what i pretty boy i have hm? you look so beautiful taking my dick like a good boy.”
the praise feels electric but having to look at himself the whole time was embarrassing! he wanted to look at you more. “ohhhhh- mghh-! feels gooddd s’gooodd” rafayel babbles trying to not let his eyes flutter shut. as soon as you bottom out, you start thrusting and aiming for his sweet spot carefully watching him. you bend over his body and leave little kisses on his neck as well as making sure to suck on his ears. they flared red and his moans became whines. “hnng-! c-carefulll sensiti-ivee.” so cute.
“don’t forget to keep your eyes up darling. that’s my pretty boy.” you whisper in his ears which made it increasingly difficult for him to focus on anything you were saying to him. “ohhhh fffuck hnng-!”
“aww look at what a gorgeous boy i have i’m so lucky. not only that but he’s so talented isn’t he?”
his head was so foggy he couldn’t handle it all. he burned at all of your praise and couldn’t stop his noises as you targeted his prostate. “isn’t my handsome boy so talented rafayel?” you ask again. his name sounded so perfect coming out of your mouth. he wished you would keep talking to him your voice was intoxicating. “mmnnn-! yesh y-yesyes.” he whined as he struggled to keep himself upright.
“yes what, my love?” you tease, increasing your pace and biting his ear slightly. “tah-! talent ‘m talente-eddd mmmgghhh gooodd.” rafayel was barely looking at himself now and instead his head hung low as he focused all his strength in holding himself up. it didn’t matter he’d done so well and he was probably weak from shutting himself in for so long. “that’s my hardworking boy. i’m so proud of you, rafayel.” you kissed his cheek, a hand coming round to stroke his dick. the added stimulation was too much!
“clo-oseee c-cum cahnn i?” he slurred, his hips unintentionally started slowly trying to match your thrusts to get him closer. “of course, you’ve worked so hard and done so well. you deserve the world, darling.” you praise him and kiss down his spine. it didn’t take long after your sweet words that he came over the floor and almost lost his balance if you didn’t hold onto him.
rubbing his hips, you slowly pull out and discard your strap on the floor. shuffling around, you sit in front of rafayel and support his upper body against you. “did that help you great artist?” you ask after a little while, moving his hair out of his eyes.
“mmmnn i got quite fuzzy… can’t remember much i might need to look at my references again.” he says teasingly. “oh wait… these clothes… i don’t like the colour they won’t work. maybe you should take them off next time.”
despite his remarks, he nuzzled into your neck, whispered thank you and started whining all over again.
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kwaanie · 2 days
Text
"the taste of a kiss"
bff!yang jungwon x fem!bff!reader
wc: 900, fluff & tiny tiny angst, just idiots inlove but theyre too much of an idiot to realize, not proofread
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your friendship with jungwon has crossed several lines over the years. i mean youve been friends since you both were in diapers — it was bound to happen, right?
many people have told you before that this wasnt normal ; friends dont pay so much attention to the other ones laugh, friends dont ditch their dates in favor of hanging out with one another, friends dont get jealous of the other hanging out with someone else
and friends especially dont ask to kiss their friends on the lips
"im sorry, what?"
the stunned face jungwon wore brought heat to your cheeks, making you not want to repeat the words youve suddenly uttered. ".. can you kiss me?"
you didnt think it was an unusual request! — after all you had a totally valid reason
"its just so i dont embarrass myself with my future significant other, thats all!" right, totally a valid and very true reason
it isnt like youre trying to find an excuse to kiss your best friend.. totally not
"mhm, yeah no." he concluded, going back to phone while successfully hiding the way his cheeks were turning cherry red
with a small huff, you sat by his side at the couch — practically melting into his side as you clung to his arm like a koala. "wonnie-ah, please? with a cherry on top?"
"you dont need to know how to kiss because you wont be with anyone anytime soon" he replied half-heartedly, trying to cover up the shakiness of his voice
jungwon has practiced the art of deceiving with how its become second nature for him to lie over his true intentions ; like he doesnt want to kiss you, be with you
"okay, rude! didnt need to call me out like that" the banter brought a small chuckle from jungwons lips — slightly easing the tension that has built since the beginning of this conversation
"just indulge me for today, will you? pretty please?" you gave your best puppy eyes. jungwon scoffed as he shook his head lightheartedly, "when have i never indulged you?"
you rolled your eyes with a small smile. "alright you got me! whats adding another favor to the list"
the room went quiet as you watched jungwon ponder over your request — youve never seen him this serious before. sweat was slowly building up at your nape, the hands clutching the sleeves of his sweatshirt suddenly becoming too clammy for your liking.
"i-if you really dont wa-"
"fine, ill do it."
honestly, you really werent expecting him to agree to this at all. "uhh- are you sure? won-ah i was just joking around! .. kind of! you dont have to-"
"but i want to" he replied without a thought. jungwon seemed to realize how eager he mustve sounded and his confidence disappeared in a snap — immediately reverting back to his previous nervous demeanor
too busy keeping his composure, jungwon failed to notice the way the four simple words affected you — your lips have parted from surprise and your heart suddenly skipped a beat
you were brought out of your daze when jungwon held his finger in front of you. "you owe me for this, by the way" the furrow of his brow pulled a small laugh from you as you nodded your head. he seemed satisfied with your response
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"so how do we go about thi- oh!" jungwons hands found purchase around your waist as he pulled you even closer to him than before, your hands landing on his shoulders — seeking for something to hold onto
from this view — you could see every little imperfections of his that you adored ; the subtle glow of his skin, and the tinted lips of his youve always daydreamed about — whether or not it was as plump and soft as it looked
today — youll finally find out
jungwon caught your wandering gaze unbeknownst to you. feeling encouraged, one of his hands cupped your cheek as he brought you impossibly closer — tilting your head up to meet his eyes
suddenly, everything felt like it was on slow notion. jungwons hand slowly slid to the back of you head as he leaned further into your space. you can feel his breath lightly grazing your skin — your noses barely an inch away
jungwons hooded eyes were drawn to the plush of your lips, his tongue poking out to wet his own. the simple act was all it took for you to move first to connect yourself together
the feeling of his lips on your own felt surreal. it felt like two puzzle pieces finally becoming one. it was slow, soft, and utterly perfect. like your lips were moulded for one another
it felt like hours before you pulled away. a giggle erupted from you when jungwon followed, already missing your touch — like a moth drawn to a flame. both of you were cherry red after the realization actually hit
youve just kissed your best friend. on the lips. for real
uncertainty filled the room at the question of what now? how will this affect your friendship?
you cleared your throat and uttered the words that broke jungwons heart. he thought maybe he had a chance now — you seemed to have both liked the kiss so maybe- just maybe he ...
"this is just practice? right won-ah? it wont change anything between us"
maybe he didnt have a chance afterall
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© kwaanie — reposting/editing/copying is strictly prohibited !
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sapphicantics · 21 hours
Text
Don’t Want Another Lover
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Pairing: Janis Imi’ike x fem!reader
Summary: Janis ditches a blind date you’d spent helping her prepare for and you confront her at a party to find out why.
Contents: best friends to lovers trope, pining!Janis, talks of unrequited love, Janis is constantly talking about being alone,
Word count: 1.4K
Authors note: This was not supposed to be the next fic I posted but Towa put me in a chokehold with her song and I’ve spent all weekend working on this so here we are. Also imma say this now, I guarantee you guys are gonna get tired of me because the amount of fics running through my head inspired by this song is fucking ridiculous but we’ll see if I actually stick with them and they’ll come out. If you haven’t already, listen to the song down below.
— — — —
Janis Imi’ike can’t believe she let herself be talked into this again.
The this in question is yet another date her best friends somehow convinced her to go on with a girl they’re sure she’ll like because she needs to put herself out there if she ever wants to get a girlfriend. Janis had scoffed at this because Damian doesn’t even like girls so what would he know about getting a girlfriend.
Still, she agreed if only to get over this ridiculous crush she has.
Except getting over her crush is damn near impossible when said crush is also one of her best friends who originally started this whole ‘get Janis a girlfriend’ thing in the first place and is currently helping her get ready for date number whatever.
“Where are you guys going for your date again?”
Janis looks up from her sketchbook, watching you rummage around in her closet. You’re dressed in a white crop top and a pair of black cargo sweatpants that are hanging low on your hips, and Janis can’t stop her eyes from tracing over the skin on display.
“Janis?”
Janis wonders if your skin is as sensitive as it looks; if a single finger would have goosebumps raising on your flesh.
“Janis?”
Janis wonders how it would feel to press kisses along your skin; how many kisses it’d take to make you melt and turn you to putty in her hands.
“Janis!”
She jumps, her eyes shooting up to yours. “What? Sorry, I- I didn’t hear what you said.”
You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. “I asked where you were going for your date.”
“Oh, uh,” Janis licks her lips in thought as she tries to remember exactly where she’s supposed to be meeting this date, Laura she thinks this one’s name is, and what they were supposed to be doing. “We’re going to an art museum.”
You nod and turn back to her closet, rummaging around for a few more moments before emerging with several items in hand. You toss them all on the bed and tug Janis up by her arm, and she has to bite back a groan as she prepares to be turned into a human mannequin.
If it was anyone else, she would’ve snatched her arm away already, but Janis has never been able to deny you anything, so she stands in place while you hold up different articles of clothing until you’ve seemingly decided on the perfect outfit for her; leaving the accessories and makeup to complete the look up to her.
She turns to you once she’s finished and her breath hitches as you reach up and adjust the necklaces around her neck, your fingers tracing lightly on her skin and it takes everything in Janis to fight back the sigh of content that so desperately wants to escape her lips.
She’s done such a good job hiding her feelings from you and she can’t reveal them now. She’s already had several close calls before and she can’t risk destroying her friendship with you over feelings you’ll never return.
No matter how much Janis wishes it was different, she knows the way you’re smoothing down her shirt and brushing off her shoulders is purely platonic.
“You look beautiful.”
Janis blinks her eyes open, unsure when exactly she closed them, and she gulps at the bright smile on your face.
You seem more excited about this date than her and you’re not even the one going on it. She wonders if you’d look that excited if you were going on this date, and her heart clenches in response because she knows you wouldn’t be going with her.
She pushes back how much that thought hurts and instead gives you a smile. “Thank you, it’s all thanks to you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jay, you’re always beautiful. The most beautiful girl in the world.”
Janis swears she’s going to fucking combust if another compliment falls from your mouth and she has to act like it doesn’t mean anything to her when it means absolutely everything to her.
She can practically hear Damian’s voice in her head calling her hopeless — which she is, but she doesn’t need his two cents even if he isn’t here to actually give it.
Thankfully (or maybe not depending on how she looks at it), she doesn’t have to dwell on that too much longer because it’s time for her to leave if she wants to make her date on time — which she totally didn’t forget about until just now — and while she’d much rather stay here with you, she’s not rude enough to bail 15 minutes before the initial meetup.
“Have fun, Jay,” you call. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
-
Admittedly, the date is nice and Janis does vibe with Laura, but she ends up cutting the date short because she keeps picturing you in Lauras’ place instead and that’s not fair to anyone.
She does not tell you that, of course.
She’s actually been avoiding telling you anything about the date which is only making you suspicious about all the things that could’ve happened and made Janis shut down on you like this.
It all comes to a head at a party which you convinced Janis ( and invited Damian because that man needs no convincing when it comes to parties ) to come to and got ample amounts of alcohol in your system.
You end up stealing Janis away from her corner where she’s spent majority of the time glaring at anyone who isn’t you or Damian attempting to talk to her and drag her into an empty room upstairs away from the party.
You’re not tipsy, but you’re also not drunk enough to where you can’t consent to anything or will forget about tonight.
Janis knows this as she’s gotten drunk with you multiple times and she knows you get bold when you’re like this, but she still doesn’t expect the words that come out of your mouth once the door closes behind you.
“Janis, what the fuck?”
Pure confusion laces her face, but you continue before she can say anything.
“I just ran into Laura and she told me you dipped out in the middle of the date.”
“Damian called me, said he was having an emergency.”
Janis can’t seem to deny you anything, but lying to you is apparently really easy. Of course, she’s lying to keep you in her life so that’s probably why it’s so easy.
“Bullshit, Imi’ike,” you scoff. “You’ve been crying about wanting a girlfriend, doing absolutely fuck all to get one, and then you keep accepting to go on these dates I’m setting up for you that are going absolutely no where, for what reason?”
Janis has the decency to look guilty, but in her defense she never asked you to do any of that. She was perfectly content to remain single and alone for the rest of her life while everyone else in her life got to fall in love and find their happy endings.
It fucking hurts that she won’t get hers.
And that combined with the alcohol in her system seems to be enough to make the truth finally come out.
“I don’t want a fucking girlfriend, I want you as my girlfriend!”
Silence falls between the two of you and Janis takes the time to process what she’s said.
Fuck.
Janis decides she fucking hates Tequila and is never going to drink again. It’s cost her a 6+ year friendship and Janis swears when she’s older she’s absolutely going to destroy Tequila manufacturers for this.
“Say it again.”
She can’t believe you’d actually be this cruel to her.
( Somewhere in the back of her head, Janis can hear a voice that is fed up with her shit calling her an idiot and a useless fucking lesbian.
It’s Damian again, she’s sure, and she wishes he’d stop popping up in her head at these times. )
“Janis, please say it again,” you whisper. “Say it again so I know it’s real and not in my head this time.”
It takes a moment for the words to register in Janis’ head and there’s a slither of hope in her heart as she stares at you. Slowly, she releases a breath and speaks. “I want you as my girlfriend.”
“Then kiss me and prove it.”
“Are you sure?”
You place your hands on her neck and her hands fall to your hips, pulling you flush against her. Your lips are inches from hers, breaths mingling together, and if she moves the slightest bit, she’ll kiss you.
“Positive.”
But that’s what you want.
And well, when has Janis ever been able to deny you anything?
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ramblingoak · 2 days
Text
Tell Him
Mushy May in Lucifer's Hollow: Day 12 - First Time
Secondo x Dewdrop
This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. It's sort of like a Satanic version of a Hallmark town. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!
~ In Lucifer's Hollow Secondo is the Fire Chief and Dewdrop teaches art at the high school. ~
Warnings: this ended up being the first time Secondo says a few certain words so there's angst and love confessions and then some smut at the end...anal sex, fingering, a bit of cum play and a dash of size kink, nsfw, 18+ only mdni, 2,600 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)
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It had been a long time since Secondo had tried to woo anyone.
For one thing, he barely had time for himself let alone a partner.  Lucifer’s Hollow might be a small town but it was big enough to keep him busy as the Fire Chief.  A day could include anything from your typical accident to a fire ghoul kit still getting the hang of their element.  He always did his best to keep his crew and his hometown safe but sometimes that meant sacrificing the free time he had.  The free time he could use to focus on someone else.
Dewdrop was the one to make him change his ways.
From the moment he had met the little fire ghoul, his fuocolino, Secondo knew he was worth it.  Worth rushing through his paperwork at the end of his shift, worth taking a little extra care of himself on calls and worth the grief he got from his brothers whenever he skipped their weekly game nights.  He would do all of that and more for Dewdrop, anything to show him how much he meant to him. 
“You should tell him.”  
“Tell who what?”  Secondo squinted at his computer screen as he checked over his supply order.  “Get your feet off my desk.”
“Dewdrop.”  Terzo leaned back in his chair, the legs creaking as he balanced it on two legs.  His expensive Italian shoes knocked into a framed picture on Secondo’s desk earning the younger man a glare.  “You should tell him how you feel.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bugiardo.”
“Fine.  Even if I did feel a particular way about him it’s none of your business.”  Liar?  Terzo was lucky Secondo had tweaked his back earlier that morning otherwise his little brother would be laid out on the floor.  “Put your fucking feet down.”
Terzo ignored him, instead knocked his shoe against the frame again.
“Whose picture is in this?”  The longer Secondo remained silent the bigger Terzo’s smile got.  “Why do I have the feeling it’s not one of your brothers?”
“Another thing that’s none of your business.”  When Terzo tapped the frame and started to turn it towards him he leveled a glare on his little brother that would have made anyone else run.  “If you have even an ounce of self preservation you will stop.”
“Oh fratello, sometimes I feel like you don’t know me at all.”  In a flash Terzo knocked the picture frame off his desk.  Secondo was out of his chair before the front legs of Terzo’s hit the floor but he was still too late to stop him from grabbing the frame off the ground and holding it up with a triumphant shout.  “Ah ha!  What a lovely couple you two ma–cazzo!”
He winced at the sound the glass in the frame made when it hit the tile after slapping it out of Terzo’s hands.  His arms were soon full of the mayor of Lucifer’s Hollow, easily dragging him from his office and out into the hallway.  He nodded at Cirrus when the pair passed her, ignoring her laughter as she followed them until they got to the large open garage door of the station.  With a shove far more gentle then he felt Terzo deserved he left him out in the driveway cursing up a storm.
After directing Aether to call Special to come pick up his boss, Secondo made his way back to his office.  With the door safely closed and locked behind him he stepped over to the frame, slowly kneeling down to pick it up.  His back protested the entire time, each twinge of pain telling him his night would now involve little more than pain killers and his heat pad.
He sighed when he turned it over, pieces of glass left behind on the floor.  Tomorrow he’d have to stop by GraveYarns for a new frame.  Secondo shook the rest of the glass out and then popped the back open so he could remove the picture.  It was a recent one, taken at this year’s high school graduation.  Primo had asked him to make the commencement speech so he had been decked out in his dress uniform.  He had even worn the old Papal face paint his family used to wear in past generations.
The same paint that Secondo knew was smeared onto his fuocolino’s skin under the clothes he was wearing in the picture.  Black mouth prints from his neck to his nipples and down his stomach to his cock.  He loved worshipping Dewdrop, loved tasting his skin that was always warm and smelled slightly of smoke.  Loved getting him to make noises, everything from breathy gasps to desperate moans.  And he loved taking care of him when they were done, cleaning him and holding him for as long as Dewdrop would let him.
Terzo was right.
Fuck.
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“What’s wrong with you?”
“I told you, my ba–”
“Yeah, yeah I know old man.  You fucked your back up playing hero.”  
Secondo chose to ignore the ‘old man’ comment and remain silent.  Ever since his revelation in his office earlier that day he had been biting his tongue, afraid that he’d confess his feelings as soon as he opened his mouth.  It’s not that he didn’t want to tell Dewdrop, it was more he would much rather say it when he felt more confident his feelings were returned.  
It would hurt too much otherwise.
“I wasn’t playing hero.”  He spoke slowly, trying to choose his words carefully.  “I was just doing my job.”
“Well what the hell are the others there for?  Stand around and flirt with teachers?  That seems to be a skill firefighters excel at.”  Secondo grunted when Dewdrop pressed a little too hard on his back.  “Or maybe it’s just the Emeritus family.”
“A little of both perhaps.”  He should just tell him.  “I’m the best at it, of course.”
“Maybe not the best at it but you certainly have the best taste.  Now hold still so I can finish rubbing this in.”
“Is it supposed to smell like that?”  Just tell him.  “It smells like toothpaste.”
“Do you want to call Primo and complain about the smell?  Or should I?”
“Nevermind.”  Tell him.  “The smell is fine.”
“How does it feel though?  Is it helping?”
“Did I say it wasn’t?”  Say it.  “It’s fine.”
“Don’t get bitchy with me, I’m just trying to help you.”
“I wasn't, I just don’t need all these damned questions.”  Tell.  Him.  “Leave it.”
“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I’m supposed to shut the fuck up while I’m spending my evening helping my boyfriend.”  
Dewdrop growled as he moved off the bed, slamming the little jar of salve onto the nightstand.  Secondo could hear his tail swish back and forth through the air like it always did when the ghoul was angry.  He gritted his teeth as he rolled over, wanting to face him but also afraid to look.  There was no anger on his face though, instead he looked almost sad and it made Secondo’s heart clench.
“Fuocolino…”  Tell him.  “Mi disp–”
“No, don’t try to sweet talk me.”
“I was trying to apologize.”  Right now.  “If you’d just give me a moment.”
“Ok, fine.”  Dewdrop crossed his arms, glaring down at Secondo.  When the room remained quiet he quickly threw up his arms.  “I’m waiting!”
“I wanted to tell you…merda.”  
Fucking say it!
“Unbelievable.  And people say I’m emotionally constipated.”
“I am glad you’re here, I’m thankful that you’re here!”
And I love you.
“Why was that so fucking hard to say?”
“It wasn’t fuocolino, there's just something else I’d rather say.”
I love you so much.
“Then say it.”  Secondo could hear the worry creeping into Dewdrop’s voice.  The same tone he’d heard the few times he had to call him and tell him he’d been injured.�� “Do you want to break up?”
“Che cosa?  No!”  I never want you to go.  “Why would you think that?”
“Because you’ve been short with me all night, like you don’t want to talk.  And then you say you need to tell me something but you can’t spit the fucking words out.  What the hell am I supposed to think?”
“I don’t want to break up with you.”
Ever.
“Then what the fuck is going on?!”
“I love you.”
The room was dead silent after those words left Secondo’s mouth.  Dewdrop’s tail was still and neither one of them seemed to breathe.  He was pretty sure his heart had even stopped, like it was waiting to see if it should bother beating again.  Fear started to grip him the longer Dewdrop stayed silent and he began thinking of something to say, anything to say to try and ease the hurt of the rejection he feared was coming.
“What did you say?”
With the smallest tendril of hope tingling in his chest Secondo tried to move closer to the other side of the bed.
“Fuocolino, I love you.”  He hissed when his back protested what he was doing but he was desperate to be near Dewdrop.  “Ti amo.”
Dewdrop immediately turned towards the nightstand and Secondo couldn’t breathe again.  He gasped in pain when he moved too much, falling onto his back and blinking up at the ceiling while spots danced in his vision.  It was probably a few minutes before he was able to collect himself but when he did it was to angry murmurs from the ghoul practically petting his chest.
“...I swear to Lucifer if you die on me right now I will go to Hell myself and drag your ass back here.  Satan’s dick what did Primo put in this fucking salve?!”
“Dewdrop, fuocolino, fermare.  Stop.”  The frantic touching ended but Dewdrop kept his hand over Secondo’s heart, needing to feel the reassurance of the steady beating.  He brought his own hand up to cover it, entwining their fingers together and squeezing Dewrdop’s hand tightly.  “I’m alright.”
“Say it again.”
“I’m alri–”
“Not that you stupid asshole.”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
Secondo smiled, slipping his other hand up Dewdrop’s back and burying his fingers in his long hair.  With a few gentle tugs he got him to lower his face down so he could press their lips together.  It was a relatively chaste kiss, for them at least.  Dewdrop sucking on his tongue when he pressed it inside.  He ended the kiss sooner than he wanted but his back was still screaming at him so he was in no condition to let the kissing go any further.  
Dewdrop’s amber eyes were bright in the dim light of the room, staring unwaveringly into his own.  He couldn’t tell what the ghoul was thinking but the fact that he was still here, still clinging to him gave him hope.  
“I love you.”  The admission earned him a quick and dirty kiss before Dewdrop pulled away again.  Secondo watched him nibble at his bottom lip for a moment before he spoke.  “What is it?”
“Nothing.  I’m just thinking.”
“About what, fuocolino?”
“I was trying to decide if riding you would break your spine in half or not.”  There was humor in the ghoul’s eyes but Secondo could also see the tell tale signs of lust there.  “Maybe Primo has a salve for that.”
“Worth the risk.”
He attempted to bring Dewdrop’s mouth down to his again but the ghoul resisted.  Secondo just wanted to kiss him, even if it hurt at least the pain would distract him from the fact that Dewdrop hadn’t said those words back to him.  He knew enough of Dewdrop’s past to know those words would be hard for the ghoul to say.  And even if he never said them it wouldn’t change how Secondo felt.
“Wait, there was one more thing.”  Secondo let the hope build again as he watched his ghoul, his little flame take a deep breath.  “I love you too, old man.”
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Everything was different now.
The words he had barely spoken to even family came easily to him.  Words he said every morning as he kissed Dewdrop awake.  Words he said throughout the day when the moment felt right.  And words he said at night, especially when he was buried inside of him like he was now.  His cock pulsed along with the beat of his heart as he ground his hips against Dewdrop’s.
“Ti amo.”
Italiano always felt more right in these moments, when their sweat was mingling on each other’s skin.  When they both sported marks from teeth and nails and claws.  Dewdrop was warm, he was so warm inside and out.  Even in the coldest days of winter when the old furnace in his house struggled to keep up.  And Secondo craved that warmth, he craved being surrounded by it.  He always longed to sink his cock into Dewdrop and feel him shake and shudder around him.
Sometimes Dewdrop struggled to say the words back but Secondo knew they were there.  He could see it in those amber eyes and he could feel it in every touch.  But tonight the words came out and Secondo swore he could see them ripple through the air between them.
“I love you.”  
Hearing them had Secondo moving again, practically folding the slender ghoul in half while he pushed in as deep as he could go.  He swore he could see himself moving there and he laid a hand on Dewdrop’s belly, wanting to feel it.  Wanting to feel it inside and out while he thrust his cock into him. 
There were no more words spoken.  Only the wet sounds of Secondo’s thrusts and both of their desperate moans filling the room.  It was possible Dewdrop muttered something in Ghoulish but the blood rushing in his head was too loud for Secondo to tell.  When the ghoul’s claws dug into his forearms he knew Dewdrop was close.  He picked up the pace, reveling in the sounds he was making underneath him.  The sounds he was looking forward to hearing for the rest of his life.
It was almost painful when he came, filling Dewdrop for the second time that night.  His ghoul came soon after, his cock spilling more cum all over his stomach and chest.  Secondo rubbed his hand through it and then brought it up to his mouth, dragging his tongue through the mess and managing a dirty laugh when Dewdrop made a wounded noise.
He stayed inside of him as long as he could but as he gently lowered Dewdrop’s legs he pulled out, his cock soft and covered in lube and cum.  Secondo rubbed at his stomach again while he watched his hole pulse, disappointed to see his cum dribbling out.  He used two fingers to press it back inside, groaning along with his ghoul as he did so.  Eventually Dewdrop’s tail came up and tugged at his wrist so he stopped, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to clean them off.
Secondo loved his fuocolino so much.  The way he tasted and smelled.  The noises he made when they were together like this.  But it was also so much more than that.  It was the little pictures Dewdrop would draw and sneak into his pants pocket before he left for work.  The proud texts he would get during the day of him showing off his students’ artwork.  He loved Dewdrop more than he could ever describe.
But he would spend the rest of his life trying. 
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If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙
My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar
More snippets from this verse are on my masterlist under "Ongoing Series"!
Other Mushy May days: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12
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quinns-art-box · 8 months
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and an extremely late thing i did for saimatsu week day 7!! tiny little comic the prompt was birthday :] absolutely adore the hc that kaede's bad at cooking but she is trying so hard and that's always good enough. plus they can just do it together <3
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cleric4vampire · 11 months
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don't let the world harden your heart
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critterofthenight · 4 days
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i had such a fun dream, i didn't wanna wake up :c
#my art teacher was a former goddess and she was looking after treasure in the secret room of a church#and i was the only human who could see the other gods so she decided to make me her heir#and she taught me magic and other things and the secret room became my safe space#then one day few of my classmates accidentally got into the room when noone was there and they were gonna start investigating wtf is this#when they tried to leave without raising suspicion they ran into me the art teacher and the priest in the church garden#but we didnt realize that smth was going on so we all started playing some kinda ttrpg set in the middle ages#my classmates talked about how much more fun that era was bc this whole dreams setting was a combination of modern day and the 1800s#we played in the church garden and there was a wishing well next to us#if you looked into it your reflection became the person you wanted to be#the art teacher was sad bc she wanted to look different but i showed her that my reflection was her so she laughed and hugged me#the game was very fun and when we were leaving my former crush was waiting outside of the gates#her new best friend was with her but she smiled at me and caressed my head and i literally purred#we were walking home and she told me that dating apps suck and she doesnt know what to do#i took her hand and told her to forget those assholes bc there are so many people who love her#and the two of us started running through the forest next to the road hand in hand#we looked like two nymphs of the forest and we were laughing and i was sure she loved me#and then i woke up :c#✩‧₊˚
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pastel-rights · 2 months
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And then I finally end it off with some doodles of them… they make me feel things.
#ringmaster doodles#sona art#( they’re very much the theme of. love in the face of the neverending march of time. )#( being immortal and knowing you will outlive the man you love because someone else deemed he unworthy of eternal life. )#( he may still have tens of thousands of years left. sure. but you know that those will go by and he’ll disappear in the blink of an eye. )#( and you’ll sit there on his death bed. wondering why did things end up like this? )#( wondering what you did wrong. and if you could have done something different. you’ll always ask yourself. )#( if he lives a life of happiness and comfort or did he live a life as gruesome and miserable as the wars on earth? but you won’t know. )#( and the more you think about it. the more you realize it. how nihilistic he was. and how he never seemed to smile even in the good times.#he always seemed to have a frown or a scowl on his face. he always seems bothered and unhappy. )#( so you wonder if it was something you did. because you know you aren’t perfect. you’re hardly good. )#( you wonder if he’s mad at you. maybe he was. but he doesn’t have the heart to stay mad. )#( and that’s love in the face of adversity. knowing that no matter how bad it gets. he loves you as you love him. )#( and you wonder why he never smiles. because he truly never does. and so you ask him. honest and true. )#( and he tells you there isn’t anything worth smiling for. nothing in this whole world. )#( but he smiles at you. it’s always small. and it’s always brief. )#( but that smile. that smile means love. )#( that hug. as flimsy as it may be. that hug means love. )#( of course. he isn’t affectionate. if anything. he detests it. he hates physical contact of any kind. you’ve noticed. )#( which is a shame. you love your hugs and your kisses and your hand holding. )#( but even if he doesn’t like it. he lets you do it. because it makes you happy. )#( and you learn that when you’re happy. he’s a little less miserable. )#( of course. not all love is equal. and not all love is fair. )#( the love from a lover and the love from the father can never equate to one another. )#( no one will love you in the same way a father or mother loves you. in the same manner. no one will ever love you the way I do. )#( because my love will remain with you. long after I disappear. )#( and as bitter as the idea of my own existence coming to an end is. knowing I did all of this for. essentially nothing. )#( that I’ve gone through all this pain and suffering and hardship just for it to all amount to nothing. for it to be fucking useless to try.#I get to die knowing that you’ll always love and be loved. and that’s enough for me… )#( … maybe there is something worth smiling for after all. )
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i solemnly swear not to write a fic with a similar premise as one ive done in the past but also i like it when people slow dance.....
#snap chats#im thinking of those geezers again.... forgive me father.....#im making my fanfic in the tags fuck it. no one read these im being cringe but i need to be free#anwyay.... i want yokoyama to show me the tally chart for how many nights arakawa and jo stay late at the office alone#just_the_two_of_us.mp3 right and i hope arakawa has a lil radio playing music#maybe some songs they'd play in the background of his stageplays... maybe even a lil miyamo haruki...#we call that a callback heh.... cause i ref'd her b4..... moving on....#i hope arakawa gets that Boss Sense and knows jo's done with his work for the night and invites him in his office#and i hope when he walks in a new song starts and then arakawa gets A Look right#just a small aside a small laugh like Oh Akane Never Liked This One but then goes on how she was still happy to dance with him to it..#and jo just. 🧍‍♂️ . like how does he respond to that. just smile and nod boys smile and nod. except jo doesnt smile he just nods#AND OF COURSE THE LEGALLY REQUIRED QUESTION 'do you dance jo' and no ! he does not. never has most likely never will#until that night anyway <3 one 'it's easy' later and they're just squished in that space between arakawa's desk and the couches#and it just nice bro... maybe arakawa talks a bit bout the song/s that are playin and the genre as a whole#jo wont say much.. he's very much a listener and thats ok hes always happy to lend an ear to arakawa#yk.. just regular things to do with your co workers haha...#i hope jo opens up about his music preferences... of which i dont know what they'd be sincerely#the comedy bit of my brain only imagines metal/rock but i truly wouldnt know...#if he likes art then he might like the same kind of music arakawa enjoys.. my fave bit they can be art enjoyers together....#lmao bye arakawa thinkin to himself What A Nice Moment and jo's just trying his best not to literally step on his toes#or just fuck up in some way like my man RELAX this is supposed to be RELAXING#would arakawa notice how tense he is omg. making myself insane the more i type I WILL NOT OPEN A GOOGLE DOC I REFUSE#the visions will just have to torment me... i must make more arasawa asap...#i have another dorky vision in mind that's a sequel to that comic i shat out a couple nights ago... its short but its cute i think..#maybe tomorrow as a warm up or after i do a lil of comm stuff... for now gn.... i love old people....
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cannibalismyuri · 1 year
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(song added by me)
#i am so Unwell rn what the fuck.#/pos So Fucking /pos#so the art ask was from u as well....elijah ur so secretive and suave this is Too Much for a girl to handle#willelmax in the arcade and byler valentine cards ur too sweet to me i actually cant Take This :')#you're right our friendship IS on another level esp now because i've never felt So Connected to someone its insane#im a little surprised but it makes sense that its you yk#like you're so naturally sweet and kind and amazing at ur core so OFC it was u#and good job i can never listen to (you) on my arm without thinking of you /pos /pos /pos /pos#this is at the TOP of on the list of the pretty little things i've been given#ik i sound like a broken record but its so insane how much i love you. i didnt know i could bond w someone over anon sm and i JUST. idk#its something abt me never getting something like this and idk never ever feeling so cared for....#you deserve all the pretty things and someone who never lies to you and someone who wants to be on your arm so bad that they write a song#about it and someone who cares about you so deeply that they think about you at night and smile so big that it hurts and someone who loves#you so much that it hurts physically and someone who thinks of you now when he listens to songs sometimes and someone who cares#about you so intensely that when he's reading messages from you she feels comforted and your words are smtg that's on repeat in her head no#and someone who wants to mail you flowers so bad because you made him feel so amazing and someone who recognises how much you deserve#and wants to give it all to you so bad and someone who loves you as much as you deserve.#and i wanna do all that and be that person so bad and i'm gonna send you a daily ask now because you mean so much to me#and you deserve someone who makes pretty things for you too and someone who tries so hard to show it#and im GONNA. im gonna try So Hard.#you'll probably get so sick of me but believe me i'm gonna make you feel as special and amazing as you made me feel. believe me.#anyway yeah. i care about you a totally normal amount#if you read all of this just know i love you so much it hurts sometimes 💗💗#my feelings towards this are : 💖💝💓💞💘💕💗⚡☀️✨⭐💫🌟#elijah my heart my love letter my special and awesome best friend my heart anon elijah#<- better tag for u because you deserve it so fucking much#elijah <33#<- ur old tag too so u can look thru my blog and see this whenever u want#heart anon#<- for me. so i can look at this for hours and find it easily so that i could complete loving elijah hours daily
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bigfatbimbo · 4 months
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on my knees begging for some Lucifer smut. Hes such a dork I need him biblically 😭
OMG LITERALLY SAME I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I WANNA EAT HIM UP 🫶🫶
anyways i’m obsessed with him so i’m gonna do nsfw hcs and a little drabble at the end bc bestie i need him too
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art by hellpple_hz on twitters
❀˖° So let me just say, if been a long time since he’s gotten laid so he’s probably so nervous about it.
❀˖° I could see him being a switch but never really a hard dom, more of a sevice top. Like when he tops it would be all about your needs.
❀˖° He definitely loves, probably prefers, when you take control and treat him. He loves feeling cared for it’s so sad.
❀˖° Has a huge praise kink, giving and receiving. He just likes to know he’s doing well. 
❀˖° “good boy” “pretty boy” “pretty baby” are his favorites because he really wants to feel appreciated by you.
❀˖° If you call him on of those during sex he’ll probably whine on the spot because he’s just pathetic like that.
❀˖° Intimacy while doing it is a must. Like please hold his hand when you tell him you’re close. He wants to feel as connected to you as possible.
❀˖° I’m pretty sure Lilith canonically pegged him so… yeah he’s very into that. Being fully taken care of by you while you’re fucking your strap into him.
❀˖° He’s the king of hell and he’s probably very stressed all the time so not having to think or make decisions would make him very happy.
❀˖° When he tops, I feel like he also praises you a lot. I also don’t see him being too dominate and rough.
❀˖° His style is definitely more gentle and caring as he fucks you. He fucks you like you’re made of porcelain, not wanting to break you and only wanting to let you know how perfect you are.
❀˖° I don’t think he’s extremely kinky but I do think he’s SUPER VOCAL. Have you heard his voice? he just sounds like he whines.
❀˖° If you praise him too much he probably tears up under all the attention. Lovingly fucking him and telling him he’s perfect? He will actually cry.
❀˖° When he goes into subspace he’s actually so cute. He just begs you to tell him how well he’s doing and that you love him. To the point where he doesn’t even understand anything else if it’s not praise.
❀˖° Also very sweet during aftercare! Definitely makes breakfast for you the morning after.
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“Just like that baby, you’re doing so good for me,” you cooed as you rode lucifer into what be another orgasm of the night. 
“My love, nngh, please,” he whimpered and threw his head back. His face was puffy from crying and his hair was in shambles from all the attention.
“So pretty like this, sweetheart. So pretty, letting me use you as a toy,” you smile as he lets out a broken whimper from the praise. 
A tear rolls down his cheek and he lets out a soft whine when you roll your hips and pick up the pace. 
You lean forward and breathe into his neck, “you’re doing amazing, Luci, you’re taking it so well.”
He half sobs and arches his back. You pepper kisses all over his tear-covered as your hands lovingly trace his body.
“Please…” he whispers pathetically, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Please what, baby?” You say sweetly as you continue to milk him dry with your pussy.
“Please,” his brows furrow tightly as if he’s trying to remember how to speak under all the pleasure, “please let me cum.”
You smile and ride him faster, starting to loose composure yourself now. 
“Whenever you want, Luci,” you sigh and let your head fall slightly back as you feel your own climax approaching.
Lucifer whined loudly and bucked his hips up into your cunt. 
“My love, nngh,” he moaned uselessly as his eyes filled with more tears. You picked up the pace and Lucifer arched into your touch, chasing his orgasm.
“Good boy, making me feel so good, baby.”
That was his breaking point. With your climax following soon after, he moaned loudly, finally releasing and falling back onto the mattress, chest heaving. 
“Oh my goodness,” he panted, “Th-thank you, my love.” He shut his eyes and softly smiled, exhaustion finally setting in.
“You did amazing,” you say softly, leaning down to kiss his cheek before picking yourself up off of his overstimulated cock.
His eyes fluttered open slightly when he felt your hand slowly tracing down to the base of his cock.
“But we’re not done yet.” 
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a/n: real men say ‘oh my goodness’ after an orgasm
remember that
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tonycries · 3 months
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Brooklyn Baby - G.S.
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Synopsis. Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.
Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rock star! AU, fwb-to-lovers, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), Suguru is sinfully sexy and in l*ve with you, Satoru is a menace, pet names (darling, my girl), Suguru has tattoos and piercings, swearing.
Word count. 3.2k (DAMN I got carried away)
A/N. Happy Valentine’s day! *throws somewhat-fluffy smut at you and leaves* 
Art by @_3aem on X.
Also, wild west! AU longfic with someone dropping on Sunday night (EST), keep your eyes peeled yeehaw.
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Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades.
You did. Your fans did. Hell, you’ve even caught your overworked band manager sneaking a few too many glances. 
And, you conclude, the groupies currently batting their lashes at him definitely did. 
You watch as they swarm to him during open rehearsal, giggling at his pretty smiles. 
Whatever, part of the job anyway.
It’s not like you two were dating. Yeah, a few fucks here and there throughout the years - but what’s one to do when on the road and in such close proximity with a guy that’s practically walking sex? 
Trying not to scowl, you turn away from the commotion, continuing to tune the strings of your trusty Fender. You’ve had your fair share of die-hard fans, so lately why did it bother you so much when Suguru entertained their thinly-veiled advances? 
“Ohoho~ Quite a look on your face there, why don’t you go and caress his biceps too?~” you hear idiot brigade member #1, Gojo Satoru, cackle from beside you. 
If looks could kill, Satoru would’ve been 6 feet under and rotting already. “I thought you stopped writing band fanfiction, Satoru.” you raise a brow. 
“THAT WAS ONE TIME.” he whines dramatically, clinging onto you and shaking you back and forth as if to knock the memory of his Wattpad tendencies out of you. “WHY ATTACK ME JUST CUZ YOU’RE JEALOUS? C’MOOON ADMIT IT.”
You were not jealous. 
Suguru knew you were jealous.
Sneaking a glance, he had to fight the urge to coo at the adorable little furrow of your brows. How unprofessional would it be if he walked off mid-conversation to kiss that pout off your lips?
He knows it’s just sex for you. But - foolishly - every time he held you he could only hope that he ran through your mind as often as you did through his. It elated Suguru to know you were getting that worked up over him. 
That is until, out of the corner of his eye, he spots Satoru draping himself all over you, whispering god-knows-what into your ears. 
The rational part of Suguru knows Satoru is a very touchy person, but why was he so…close? And why weren’t you pushing him off?
Smile tightening into something a little more artificial, he turns to the girls fawning over him. “Well, ladies, I’m sorry to say I’ve gotta go practice before Shoko yells at me again. I’ll see you all in the front row, yeah?” he lies smoothly, disappointed whines following him as he makes a beeline for your figure.
“Well! What have we here, Satoru, are you done tuning?” Suguru pops a head between yours and Satoru’s overly close ones, interrupting whatever conversation you were heatedly whispering. What was so important that you two needed to be that close to talk anyway?
He narrows his eyes at Satoru’s surprised ones, an invisible conversation taking place between them before Satoru cracks a smug grin. “Alright alright. I’ll go tune my guitar.” he rolls his eyes, heading for his electric blue Gibson. 
Your confused gaze meets the twinkling eyes now boring down at you. “Done with the meet-n-greet already?” you question, eyes darting to the group now watching you two like hawks.
The smile on Suguru’s face grows, “Yeah, remembered I didn’t do my pre-concert rituals right.”
“Oh?”
“Wanna help me with it?”
He doesn’t give you time to answer. Quickly setting down your guitar, he drags you out into the corridor - hand tightly in yours and pointedly ignoring Satoru’s wolf-whistles. 
Hallway sex is overrated, Suguru believes - which is why he heads for the dressing room. 
“Pre-concert rituals” his ass, Suguru just thinks he might pass away if he doesn’t get his hands on you right now. Make you feel like his.
It’s not long before the door is locked and he has you bent over the vanity, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. 
“S-Sugu! Why now? The concert- Hah-” You gasp in pleasure as two long fingers probe inside of you, ruthlessly searching for the spot that Suguru knows would have your toes curling and eyes watering deliciously. 
“Fuck the concert, darling. Barely even started and already so wet f’me.” he drawls out over your whimpers. “Wanted you to come over y’know? And save me from those groupies trying to get in my pants.” 
In your lust-hazed mind, you find the words to respond to him, “You s-seemed to - hah - be enjoying that.”
“Of course not.” he leaves a trail of kisses down your back, “Wasn’t my favorite girl.” he whispers into your heated skin.
He’s being rougher than usual, he knows. In the back of his mind he wonders what it was that he was so pissed at. But all thoughts of that are thrown out the window once he presses into that plushy spot inside your wet core, drawing a sinful whine from your mouth. There.
Pulling back to tease your folds with your own slick, he plunges into your swollen pussy once more, easily hitting that spot over and over. 
“Hngh- Suguru, more!” you grind your hips to meet his merciless rhythm, clenching around his fingers. 
You feel as if you’re losing your sanity when he adds in another finger, walls burning as your cunt stretches around his thick rings. 
Suguru was definitely losing his sanity. 
Anyone could walk by. The concert was about to start any second now. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck, too focused on how his fingers were being sucked back in every time he pulls out, your pretty pussy dripping all over his numerous bracelets.
He has to hold back a moan at the way your ass jiggled every time your hips buck to meet his fingers. 
Leaning down over you, he hums lowly into your ear “So desperate for me, hm?”. Pressing the erection straining against his trousers against you, he huffs out “I’m the same, darling. You drive me absolutely mad.”
He feels the way you squirm in impatience at the large outline of his dick, raising your ass in an attempt to get more friction. Eyes crinkling in satisfaction, he pushes down on his girl’s slutty hips, cold rings digging into the small of your waist. 
“Now now…not yet.” he tuts mockingly. 
“Please, Suguru. Please let me cum.”
Increasing his pace, abusing your g-spot relentlessly, Suguru knew by your breathy moans of his name that you were getting close. 
His hand moves from your waist, leaving behind purple marks to remember him by. They wander the expanse of your body - groping your curves, and pinching your nipples through your thin top - delighting in your mewls.
God, you were perfect. He really needed to take his time with you later.
Suguru’s hands, nail polish chipped and fingers calloused from years of playing, finally rest on your face. He pushes your cheeks together, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth and forcing you to look at him through the vanity mirror in front of you. Your dazed eyes meet his darkened ones. 
Suguru was so feral. The man that was usually the personification of grace and poise was falling apart at the seams. His eyes wild and grin spread devilishly as his fingers abuse your cunt never-endingly.
“Look at me when you cum.” he murmurs raspily into your neck, teeth ghosting over your rapid pulse.
You don’t know what it is that sends you over the edge - maybe it was his lustful words, or the way his fingers quirked just right inside of you. All you know is you’re cumming all over Suguru’s fingers, hands clutching the vanity table and eyes locked with Suguru’s in the mirror, mouth dropping into a gasp.
“Fuck! Suguru- Suguru!” you whimper.
Suguru watches in wonder as you ride out your orgasm, using him. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.
Let them see how beautifully you fall apart because of him.
Finally pulling out, Suguru inspects his fingers. “Now now. That won’t do.” he purrs. 
His tongue erotically licks up your juices covering his rings, still holding eye contact with you through the mirror. He catches the way your thighs press together at his lewd act. ‘Oh? Want some?“ he teases. 
Before you can retort, he’s bullying his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself. 
The way you moan around him sends blood rushing straight to his cock. Fuck, he has to steel himself from cumming in his pants right then and there - that wouldn’t be very “sex icon” of him. 
You have no idea what you do to him.
Not willing to wait any longer, he leisurely takes a seat on the spacious vanity sofa. You whine at the loss of contact before catching the predatory look in his eyes. Suguru was going to eat you alive. 
“Come on, darling. Show me how badly you want me.” he grins, legs spreading and prominent bulge on display. 
You take a second to admire the view. Tousled black hair falling enticingly along Suguru’s muscled shoulders, tattooed dragon peeking through where his shirt was messed up. His eyes lustful, and locked on you. 
He was devastatingly handsome. Your mouth waters at the chance to get what so many people would kill for.
Suguru chuckles as you struggle to unbuckle his belt - did rock stars have to always wear such complicated trousers? 
Finally, you pull them down along with his boxers to expose his creamy thighs. Suguru’s throbbing erection lays on his abs, flushed a delicate pale pink.
Your pussy quivers with excitement as you press wet kisses to Suguru’s leaking head, precum dripping down his length to where you’d gently grasped him. A strangled hiss leaves his mouth as you swirl your tongue around the slit. You find yourself lost in his heady taste - he tastes so good.
“Having fun, darling? C’mon now, use me the way you want.” he murmurs, need laced into his voice.
You’ve never gotten used to how big Suguru is. Soft groans leave his mouth as you flatten your tongue and take him in inch by inch, eyes locked with his blown-out ones.
Suguru’s back arches as the heat of your mouth envelops him, hands bunching your hair into a messy ponytail. His pornographic groans echo across the dressing room as you suck on his cock, tongue swirling in just the way you knew he liked.
He can’t even catch his breath with the way you bob your head so heavenly, sucking the soul out of him. It drives him wild to think about how he’s got his lead guitarist on her knees, choking on his cock as your fans wait outside. 
Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as you pop off his cock to take his heavy balls into your mouth, moaning around them as you suck on both erotically.
Shit, he was really feeling it today. 
Through the bangs now sticking to his forehead, he makes out the way your thighs grind against each other for relief. 
You were, too.
If this keeps up he really will lose his sanity.
“As much as I’d love to paint your pretty face with my cum, I think we both prefer it inside, no?” he grits out, cock twitching at the strings of spit and precum connecting you to him as he pulls you off. 
“Need you inside me so badly.” you nod, brain foggy and filled with only Suguru.
He’s quick to lift you into his lap, resting your ass against his pulsing cock, sly grin spreading at the way you’re already so fucked out. 
Suguru feels like he could cum just from the sensation of your juices smearing all over his length, pussy dripping and aching for his throbbing cock. 
“Oh yeah? How bad?” he purrs, eyes half-lidded and already knowing the answer.
“Please. I want you to fuck me so badly, Suguru.” 
“Badly enough that you’d fuck me out there - where everyone is? Show ‘em who I belong to?”
“Yes.” 
At your whimper, Suguru thrusts fully inside you, a moan of relief leaving you both as you finally get what you’ve been craving for. 
“Shit, so tight. Always so good for me, darling.”
Once you start, it’s hard to stop, Suguru finds. 
It happened when he first fucked you in high school - in his car after your first show, running on adrenaline and teenage hormones. And, years later, it’s happening now as he sheathes himself in your wet cunt. 
He just can’t get enough.
He fucks you animalistically, cock ramming in and out of your hole in a way that makes it feel like you’re missing something without him. Nothing in the world other than your two connected bodies. He feels you clamping down on him deliciously, ego growing at you struggling to accommodate his size. 
“F-fuck, darling. Hah- It’s s’tight. Take it like my good girl.”
“Hngh- Suguru, faster!” you groan, fingers delicately playing with the nipple piercings peeking out of his barely-buttoned shirt, euphoric at his drawn-out moans. 
Unlike Satoru - who takes off his shirt every chance he gets onstage - Suguru was one to shy away from showing skin, slutty piercings and tattoos hidden to the world. It just makes it all the more satisfying as you lick a long stripe along the dragon on his shoulder. 
Feels like your little secret. You wanted to be the only one to see this ethereal sight.
“Ah- So good, darling.” Suguru leans back, allowing you more room to play with him as you please. Cock twitching - so close - as you bore into his eyes, sucking his flashy piercings. 
He ramps up his pace, bouncing you on his cock in a way that was carnal. It was so feral, the way his balls sting as they smack your ass, a ring of spit and precum forming around his base. 
His cock aches for release, but he wants to see you cum first. His pretty girl, cumming all over his throbbing cock.
You pull yourself off his swollen nipples and attach your mouth with his, tongues swirling sensually as he kisses you like he needed you to breathe. 
He’s almost as unforgiving with his mouth as he is with his cock. Almost.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
“YOOO I don’t know if ‘pre-concert rituals’ was a code-word for something else but we’re on in twenty minutes.” the unmistakable voice of Suguru’s best friend - and occasional bane-of-his-existence - made you two jump apart. 
“The ultimate cockblock.” Suguru sighs out - his pace, however, does not slow down. Each harsh thrust makes it difficult to muffle your yelps of pleasure from Satoru, who was still calling for you two from outside.
Noticing your predicament, Suguru grins dangerously. “Oh? My poor girl finds it hard to stop her moans? Aww, better try harder unless you want dear Satoru finding out.” he mocks in your ear. 
Both humiliated and turned on by his words, your dripping pussy clenches around his cock. He lets out a choked-up groan, biting hard into the crook of your neck to stop it.
A satisfied smile spreads across your face, “Who should try harder now, Suguru?”
Ah, perfect. You were perfect, perfect for him.
As Satoru’s yells about “cutting a chunk out of Suguru’s pay” disappear across the hallway, both of you let out exhales of relief.
“Dangerous game you played there, mister.” you raise a brow, teasingly.
He chuckles out, before pulling you to him closer by the waist. Lips ghosting over your own, he whispers “Only with you, my darling.” 
Slightly more clear-headed but still dripping with lust, you meet the bounce of Suguru’s hips with your own. Eyes still locked with yours, he stuffs you with every inch - tip kissing your cervix so painfully good. 
The steady slapping of skin and synchronized moans fill the room, blocking out the cheering of the audience awaiting your band. 
Yet, the air crackled with something different this time. For the first time, it didn’t just feel like just mindless fucking.
Bite mark on your neck stinging, you could feel Sugurus heartbeat thundering under your touch - synchronized with your own.
In this moment it felt like just you two in this world. 
You wanted to be the only one in his world. Not his fangirls, not some manager, not anyone else. 
Maybe that was the reason for your courage, feeling like everything has finally come to a boiling point. 
“S-Suguru.” you breathe out as you feel yourself getting closer. 
“Mhm?” brows furrowed, he looks up at you with a tenderness in his eyes that does not translate to the merciless cadence of his hips. 
“Be mine.”
And that’s all Suguru ever wanted. 
With a final hard thrust of his cock, he pulls you into a searing kiss that sends you both over the edge. He cums in hot spurts, thick ropes of seed filling your quivering cunt. It was feral - and it made you feel like his. 
Suguru’s seed drips down the side of his length, forming a white ring at his base as he fucks it deeper into you, letting you ride out your highs together.
As your climaxes bate, he buries his face in your neck, kissing softly over the mark from before. “To be yours is everything I could ever want, darling.” he breathes out, hugging you closer as if to hide this vulnerable moment. But you feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin.
Embracing him, you gather his beautiful black locks in your hand, fingers deftly taking the hair tie around your wrist to tie his long hair into a messy ponytail. 
Pulling back, you admire Suguru’s angelic features. Face flushed, lips swollen, and dark eyes half-lidded as he stares up at you in surprise.
“Wanted to see your pretty face.” you huff out a low laugh.
The expression on Suguru’s face is indescribable, such pure adoration in his eyes. 
Voice low, he murmurs words meant only for you, “I…I’m in lov-” 
“HEYYY I’m serious, stop doing the devil’s tango and GET THE FUCK OUT.” Satoru’s voice bellows once again through the door, shattering the little bubble you and Suguru had found refuge in.
“Ah- um-”
“You-”
Both of you stammer out at once, chuckling at how shy you were acting with one another even after all that had transpired in this room.
“We should probably go, before Satoru and Shoko pop a blood vessel.” Suguru jokes. You laugh out in agreement as he carries you tenderly to the washroom, his interrupted words weighing heavily on both your minds. It’s okay, you have time. 
Rapidly cleaned up and dressed, Suguru stops, a hand on the dressing room doorknob. “”Hey..” he starts almost-hesitantly, “After the concert, would you maybe want to-”
“Yes.” you interrupt, excitement lacing your voice. 
Chuckling in pure euphoria as you both exit, your smiles turn more sheepish as you’re faced with a bored-looking Shoko and an impatient Satoru tapping his foot. “You horny lil’ fuckers almost missed the show, think of my poor fans~” he exclaims, though the glee in his eyes at your intertwined hands was very evident.
“Hope the sex was good at least.” Shoko drones out, eyes flitting over your guilty flushed faces. 
‘Oh yeah, and Suguru - next time you dump your fangirls on me, I chop your balls off.“ she chirps out, pointing her drumsticks threateningly at his neck as you all head back.
Blinding lights. 
Deafening screams.
Hair pulled into a messy ponytail, he was fatally beautiful onstage.
Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. 
But he only wanted to fuck you.
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A/N. MMMMM long-haired men.
Plagiarism not authorized.
4K notes · View notes
angellcherry · 3 months
Text
— home.
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» pairing: jungkook x reader
» genre: fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, nsfw
» synopsis: “show me your thorns, and I'll show you hands ready to bleed.”
» warnings: allusions to depression, brief mentions of self harm (nothing graphic!), a little bit of angst, cuddling, reassurance, jungkook is a big green flag, talks of therapy and healing, confessions, lots of kisses, he's down bad and so in love :( (they both are), pet names, soft!dom jk, slight size kink, missionary bc he needs to look at her and kiss her 😩, praise, dirty talk, choking, creampie, aftercare
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His hand curled around the nape of your neck the moment your lips touched. Warmth trickled down your spine, and he titled his head; tongue prodding at your soft lips, like he wanted you down to the marrow. Like he wanted to dip into your soul, kiss after kiss, until he was completely submerged; until he's explored every nook and crevice, felt every bump and crack.
He pulled away from the heat of your mouth slowly, reluctantly, eyes half lidded and dark. Lungs expanding to take in more air, voice coming out hoarse.
"You weren't answering your phone..."
"I know," you whispered, "I'm sorry."
Jungkook shook his head.
"No need to be sorry, baby," he lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the soft skin there. "I was just worried."
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. You sank into his embrace so easily; like you just came home. In a way, you have. He hasn't seen you in over a week...
It may not have seemed like much, but your absence was tangible. Suffocating. Especially when he didn't know if something was wrong.
"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.
You turned your head to peck his shoulder, fingers entwining, and then you were walking towards his bedroom as though it was second nature. The change in your demeanor had the corners of Jungkook's eyes crinkling from smiling. You practically skipped over to his bed, hopping onto the large mattress.
"Can I get a shirt, please?"
He didn't think you comprehended how fucking cute you were. He turned to open his closet and began rummaging through it.
"At this point, I'm pretty sure I'd kill someone if you asked me," he muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing, baby."
Flushing, he ignored the curious tilt of your head and threw you his favorite t-shirt.
God, how could someone be so fucking cute?
You were always excited to nap in his bed, share food and wear his clothes. The fact that it brought you comfort made his already lovesick heart swell up and ache. Something so simple, but so domestic — it fucked with his head. He wanted this every day, in every life. You were his comfort, too. Why couldn't you see it?
He leaned against his closet, arms crossed, watching you slip out of your clothes, the heap landing on the floor. It was art. You were so beautiful; inside and out. He couldn't help the way his stomach stirred and heart fluttered, yet instead of acting on his urges, he just walked over to you and bent down to pick up your clothes.
While you got into his shirt, he folded them neatly and placed them on his gaming chair.
"I missed this bed so much," you sighed.
Jungkook glanced over at you, taking a moment to drink in the image of you lying there, the black cotton of his shirt slightly too wide and too long for your body; but fuck, it looked perfect to him. He bit his lip, making his way to climb onto the mattress beside you.
"What about me?" He asked, delighted by how you opened up your arms, instinctively scooting closer to him.
"Hm, what about you?"
Jungkook pouted, eyebrows furrowing. His arms wrapped around your waist.
"Hey."
You giggled, peppering his face with kisses, and he wished he could live in this moment forever, stop all the clocks, kill time. To hell with what that would do to the universe.
"I missed you, too."
Just like that, he melted. Somehow, it hurt so bad; he had you right there, and yet he didn't. Disappearing and reappearing. Out of reach, like a mirage.
He lifted your hand to his lips again, momentarily distracted by how small it was compared to his.
"So tiny."
Amused at the scoff you let out, he turned it to kiss your palm, then paused abruptly.
A raw shade of red caught his attention.
Narrowing his eyes, he examined the wounds around multiple fingers — or at least tried to, before you caught on and pulled your hand away like you got burned.
His heart dropped.
It's been a while. Why were you doing this to yourself again?
Fuck. He felt like a failure of a man.
He swallowed thickly, then pulled you in closer, as if treading on thin ice. Terrified of making a mistake and feeling it crack under his weight. Once he was under, once it all fell apart, he didn't know if you'd let him in again.
"Baby..." he whispered into your hair.
"I'm so tired, Jungkook," mellow, you answered the question he didn't get to ask. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."
"Talk to me," he pleaded. "I can't help you if you shut me down."
You sniffed quietly. There was a loud crack. Not in the ice, but in his chest.
"You can't help me either way."
Jungkook tried to lift his head to look at you, but you gripped his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in your hand.
"Baby—"
"Not everyone deserves help," you insisted, a wet sigh following. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I help myself? E-everyone else seems to be doing just fine, a-and I'm just rotting away, filled with these ugly thoughts and feelings, I can't do anything right."
Jungkook hugged you tighter, like he hoped he could mold you together, give you as much of him as you needed to feel whole again. He'd let you rip him to pieces to fill the void.
"Stop saying that," he breathed, his eyes burning, "fuck, stop saying that."
He stroked your back as you cried into his chest, softly, feeling helpless and furious at the same time.
"When you're always in the dark," he whispered, "you learn to make friends with monsters to survive. It's all you know, so it's what feels most comfortable."
He heard you inhale, felt your head lift with hesitation. Eyes swollen, glossy, lower lip still trembling.
Jungkook cupped your face, wiping at the wet streaks.
"When you're always in the dark, sometimes... it feels like it's all you deserve. But it's not your fault. You're not a bad person," he said softly, his thumb rubbing your lower lip. "Sometimes, it's just the monsters you know talking."
You blinked, small and vulnerable, like a child who just woke up from a nightmare.
"I... I don't know..."
Jungkook squeezed your waist, so close his nose almost touched yours.
"But I know," he promised. "I know."
He stared into your eyes, watched them well up with more tears. He wished he could kiss them all away.
"Let me be there for you—"
You kissed him, and once again, it hurt. Because he wanted you, he wanted you so bad, but not like this — why didn't you want him, too?
Outside of the bedroom, when you weren't tangled in sheets, it seemed like you had no interest in letting your walls down. He's spent so much time trying to climb them, only to end up with broken bones, back down on the ground again.
He couldn't do this anymore.
He pulled away from your lips, denying you the oblivion you craved. He wanted to let you use him, he'd do it every day if it meant he could see you again. But he was afraid that if he didn't speak up now, he'd never find the courage to do it.
"I want to be with you," he breathed out. "Why won't you let me love you?"
There was an instant change in your expression that made his stomach lurch.
"I— I..."
A pause, filled with uncertainty.
Jungkook searched your eyes. The windows to the soul, they said. Broken, and the interior was dark. Nothing good lurked in there.
"I love you," he repeated.
His heart pounded in his chest. He stared right into this endless darkness, crawling with insecurities and fear. As though he was hoping the warm whisper would chase away the frigid, haunted air breaking through, make all the other voices come to a halt.
He was no longer a boy, but a man, and he feared no monsters. He wanted to flood the space with light.
"Move in with me," his palm settled on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. "I'll help with your classes and therapy. I'll take care of you. You can lean on me until you're strong enough to stand on your own. And even then, when you do — I still wanna be there. I wanna make you happy... Every day."
There it was. His heart, right in the palm of your hand, like an offering. Bleeding through your fingers. Willing to be crushed, if it meant at least he tried.
But you cradled it instead.
Fresh tears, sticking to your eyelashes, and then a rush of warmth in the dark. Your lips pressed into his, tender, and he shut his eyes, tasting a mixture of salt and your sweetness —
"I love you," a shaky exhale, right into his mouth.
It sank into him like sunlight, pulsing, nourishing and bright. And he swallowed it up with a kiss, his teeth clashing with yours.
He shifted to hover above you, finding rest in between your legs, goosebumps erupting when he felt your hand slip under his hoodie, inching it up.
A giggle slipped past his lips, and he disconnected himself from you only to take it off, throwing it aside carelessly before he was kissing you again.
He felt you smile. You went straight to his head like wine. Your taste, your scent — your touch, exploring the muscles of his back, his shoulders.
He was already hard, aching to get lost in you; dizzy on want and love.
Hands groping over clothes, wherever they could reach, hot lips trailing down your neck. He wanted to do so many things to you; kiss every inch of your skin, make you come on his tongue.
But you had the whole night — a whole eternity, really. And the way you squirmed beneath him, arching your back, legs parting, hips raising to feel him, urgent and breathy, wiped his mind clean off anything but the need to be inside you.
Jungkook groaned, his cock twitching, leaking precum into the cotton of his boxers. He remained still, however, letting your hand wander in between your bodies.
His eyes were glued to the way it traveled down his tensing abdomen, pausing to lower his sweats; then dipping inside.
He tried to stay quiet, though his chest was heaving, the sight and the feeling of your hand wrapping around his girth making it twitch again.
He watched you pull your panties aside, wet and ruined, revealing your pretty, glistening folds and the small entrance below.
So fucking small.
It looked almost obscene compared to his cock, long and thick and pulsating in your hand. But you fit him perfectly, like you were made just for him.
The moment you guided him forward, and the wet tip touched the heat of your cunt, he lifted his eyes to yours.
He felt so fucked out, but he was gentle as he pushed inside. The tight, wet muscle welcomed him eagerly, inch by inch, until his hips touched yours and he couldn't breathe.
For a moment, time stood still.
His head fell into the crook of your neck, inked hand squeezing your thigh.
"I missed you so much."
He sounded broken, but he's never felt so whole before.
"I missed you too..."
You clenched around him, prompting his hips to move off their own accord, coaxing the most beautiful sounds out of your body. The wetness, the smack of his skin against yours; the soft whines that fueled the heat boiling deep in his gut.
"Mmm," he moaned, raspy, "doing so well, baby."
He tried to stretch you out slowly, preoccupy himself with biting and sucking at your neck; anything not to focus on how you clenched around him.
But he was doomed, and he understood that the second you moved your hips, fucking him back.
"Oh shit," he gasped, "baby..."
He stifled another moan into your cheek, picking up his pace, so deep inside you he wondered if you could feel him in your tummy. The thought alone made his cock throb, every vein and ridge.
Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your throat, the pressure soft, but definitely there. In return, you grasped his shoulders, nails digging in, and Jungkook knew he wasn't going to last long.
"Good?" He breathed, slamming into you a little faster, stuck on your shining eyes and eager nods. "Yeah?"
The mattress began to protest under the force of his thrusts, but the sound was drowned out by everything else. Jungkook felt your cunt tightening, so warm and so fucking sloppy, his own little personal heaven.
"Almost there? Hm? Gonna make a mess for me?"
Clench.
He groaned, his tummy twisting, the moans spilling past your lips making his head spin.
You merely nodded again, as though you couldn't speak. It made the corner of his lips quirk upwards.
"Yeah?" He tightened his hold on your neck, staking his claim with a coo. "My girl's gonna make a mess on my cock? Pretty angel's gonna cream all over it?"
Your breath hitched, thighs beginning to quiver around him.
"Y-yeah," you uttered, breathless, "yours—"
Jungkook's tongue slid into your mouth, his rutting becoming desperate. He wanted to mark you and brand you and oh god — he was about to see stars.
"Yeah, fuck— mine, my good girl," he stuttered out, "oh, baby, mhmm, I'm gonna come—"
His hips bucked as your pussy spasmed around him, sucking his cock in deeper, restricting his movements. Still, he fucked you through your orgasm, letting himself go with a loud groan. A burst of stars, the tension snapping; and he spilled inside you, white ropes of hot cum that filled you up to the brim.
He slumped against you after a drawn out moment, his body thrumming with bliss. Careful not to crush you, however, he rolled over to the side, his arms automatically enveloping your frame.
With his nose in your neck, he waited for his breathing to even out, lazily rubbing your hands.
"So good," he mumbled, "fuck... Are you okay, baby?"
You hummed, snuggling into him.
"More than okay."
Jungkook smiled, opening his eyes and pressing a kiss into your cheek.
"I'll wash you up in a sec."
"In a bit... Stay with me."
"I'm staying with you forever. Good luck getting rid of me now."
Your laughter sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to keep hearing it.
He brought your hand up to his lips, gently kissed each wounded finger, muttering his I love yous and praises until you both drifted off. Sated and warm under the sheets, tangled up in each other; with a single promise echoing through his head.
Never again would he let you hurt like this.
And whatever was happening outside of these four walls hardly mattered.
This was all that mattered.
This was home.
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hon3y-y · 5 months
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ “pussy put his ass to sleep, now he callin’ me NyQuil…”
Suguru x fem!reader
Suguru used to swear off relationships, he liked to fuck and labels were exhausting. He felt strongly about this, until he had met you. He liked the intimacy, the connection, and the safety he felt with you. At times, he wondered the possibility of soulmates with the way you two seemed to fit into each other so naturally.
Your pussy being able to put him in a coma was just a bonus.
Suguru had sweat dripping from his brow, his eyes shut tight as he felt the warm stickiness of your wet cunt wrapped tightly around his thick cock. The feeling of Suguru's tip hitting your cervix nearly made you stop breathing. His cock leaking into you as he whined into your ear, “so fuckin’ good!” getting lost in the feeling of your tight cunt sucking him in. He had you in missionary, wanting needing to see your reactions every time he pounded into you roughly. Your nails dug into his soft skin, your mouth wide open letting cries of pleasure bounce on the wall.
“Guru’, R-right there!” You let out a silent scream as a strong pressure fills your cunt. He sped up, biting your shoulder to hush his own moans and indulge in yours. “wa-it, suguru!—“ you gasped, trying to push him away. He laughed breathily at your attempts, pinning your hands above you head as your eyes began to water. “Nuh uh, not going anywhere..” moving one hand to your waist to lift you up a little, perfectly battering the most sensitive part of you. You squirmed as your vision started to blur, the intense feeling made your legs shake and release liquid from your swollen and puffy pussy. You laid there lifeless, trying to breathe as suguru pulled away to watch the way you twitched.
“Look at this pussy~” he cooed when you tried to close your legs, his fingers too much for how sensitive you’ve become. He pulled them apart, a sadistic look in his eye as he let a glob of cool spit land on your soaked cunt, using his thumb to spread it. You bit your lip to hold back a whine, your back arching off the bed. “Is it too much?” Your glossy eyes met his and you nodded. He leaned down to kiss your lips, “you still gonna’ help me cum?” You paused before nodding again, a little sniffle coming from you when you felt his dick grind against you.
“Such a good girl, my perfect girl..” he praised, pulling back to watch his tip push into you again. He looked at the way your brows furrow, a small whimper leaving your glossy lips. Suguru smirked before shoving himself into you fully, taking a sharp intake of breath and letting his head roll back, “fu—uck..”
you immediately tried to pull away only for him to grab your soft hips. “Don’t run baby—you can take it.” His voice strained, fucking into you harder than before, finally chasing his own release. His hand wrapped around your throat, your voice squeaking up higher as you begged for him to use you. You reached up to tweak his nipples making a shiver run up his spin, a choked moan escaping him. “That’s it baby, take that fuckin’ dick.”
He curled himself into your neck when he came, continuing his rutting to work the both of you through your orgasms. He came a lot, purring as you whispered affirmations to him. “Love your pussy..” he muttered into your ear, kissing your neck while trying to level his breathing and wrap his arms around you. You smiled and played with his hair, knowing how much he loves the feeling.
After noticing how quiet it got, you got suspicious. “suguru?” Looking down, only to notice he had fallen asleep, still inside of you and on top of you. You groaned and rolled your eyes, “get up! suguru?! You do this every time-“ you were cut off with a whine and silence again. Maybe you should’ve riden him instead…
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A/n; saw some fan art of him and now he won’t leave my mind🛌 also, thinking of writing hockey player!suguru, can’t get the image of him skating with his long hair flowing behind him he’s so fucking fine.
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