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#every time i see him i get the same fluttering in my chest that makes me oh so so happy
necrolexic0n · 1 month
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no, i am not sobbing crying throwinf up over ink sans. why would do say that
what do you mean you can see the tear stains on my sketchbook—
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(this is only a corner of 2 full pages btw. full of him)
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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month
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sleepover
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words: 700
warnings: 18+ only, smut, handjob, mentions of blowjobs, best friends brother
“am not.” you complain as rafe tells you you’re too little for what feels like the hundredth time.
“yes you are baby.” he coos out, laughing as you pout.
“you’re like barely older than me.” you argue, grinding your hips down.
“three whole years.” rafe reminds you. the same age difference between him and sarah, afterall, you were her friend first.
“but im not a kid!” your eyes flutter closed as you bounce your body up and down, hoping your movements are enough to entice rafe.
“maybe you need to get your behavior in check before i fuck you.” rafe strokes his cock slowly as you’re sitting on his lap, one of his fingers buried inside of you.
“so im not too little?” you question, gripping rafes thighs as you lean back, body moving in waves as you feel his finger push into you.
“eh.” rafe shrugs. he doesn’t have a good reason why he won’t fuck you yet, why he teases you by making you ride his thigh or suck him off. he likes seeing you impatient and needy, teasing you until you both finally break and rafe fucks you.
“you’re so mean.” you pout, eyes opening to watch rafes hand glide up and down his cock.
you pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you reach forward, swiping your thumb over the head of his cock before grasping it and adding to rafe strokes.
“not gonna get me to fuck you.” rafe smirks, laughing slightly when you wiggle your body as a complaint, clenching your pussy around his finger in an attempt to entice him.
“at least add a second, please.” you wanna prove to rafe that you can take it, that you’re able to fit his cock inside of you.
“whats the point of opening you up when im not gonna be inside of you?” rafe questions, dropping his hand away so you can continue stroking his cock.
“raaafe.” you whine. he laughs at you, but adds a second finger inside your cunt, making you moan as you really do feel the stretch, his fingers pushing against your walls as you grind against him.
“make me cum and i’ll touch your clit too, baby.” rafe huffs out. you sit forward, letting out a gasp when rafes fingers curl inside of you, but you don’t let the rush of pleasure distract you from gripping his cock with both hands, working him up and down near frantically.
rafe wishes his digits weren’t currently thrusting into your cunt so you could bend down and take him in your mouth, but he’ll settle for cumming all over your tits and stomach.
“almost there.” he grunts out, chest heaving up and down as you begin to moan with every push forward of his fingers, your hands tightening on his cock as it swells, and then suddenly rafe is cumming, painting your torso as he groans out.
before his orgasm is even finished, his hand turns so his thumb can rub against your clit, not bothering to be gentle as he rubs harshly against your bud.
“i- shit.” you curse, hands falling away from rafes cock the second it stops pulsing as you lean forward, gripping rafes shoulders.
“cum for me, pretty.” he coos out. “don’t you think sarah is getting suspicious of where you disappeared to?”
you let out a moan at the mention of sarah, hoping she hears and you get caught, wanting to quit hiding what you have with rafe. 
“yeah.” you nod. “yeah-i-im close.” 
rafe is unforgiving with his fingers, pushing them so deep inside of you that your orgasm is suddenly ripping through your body as you cum with a loud shout of his name, slumping forward against his bare chest.
“shh, thats it. i got you.” rafe rubs your clit gently through your high until you’re whining and oversensitive, thighs clenching closed.
“you’re gonna fuck me next time, right rafe?” you question.
“when is your next sleepover with sarah?” he questions, as if you don’t spend every weekend at tanneyhill.
“friday.”
“perfect.” rafe helps you sit up, pressing a kiss to your lips. “sneak out and come to my room.”
“you’re gonna fuck me?” you sit up straighter, excitement evident in your voice.
“no, but you can suck my cock.” rafe chuckles while you let out a frustrated groan.
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pinkhelados · 3 months
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miguel x wife!reader 。゚(゚´ω`゚)゚。
includes: fem!reader, latina!reader, miggle being a simp, p in v sex, praise kink, very slight dacryphilia, not edited! Criticism is welcome!
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Miguel swore to you that he’s never make you cry. “Te lo juro, mi alma. Te hare la mujer más feliz del universo. No sentirás tristeza cuando estes en mis brazos.” He remembered saying and he meant it, what kind of a man would make a woman as beautiful as you cry? Miguel was a man of his word, after all.
Well, until now.
Miguel found himself balls deep in your pussy with his talons digging into the fat of your hips. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he just couldn’t help himself when your weeping cunt tightened around his girthy cock like a vice. “Fuck,” He groaned. “Eres- eres tan bonita,” Miguel said with each thrust. His chocolate rown hues stared lovingly into your pretty eyes. Those same pretty eyes that had fat tears of pleasure rolling down your skin as he pushed his dick further into your creamy pussy. “Too good, it’s too good,” You hiccuped. More tears dribbled down your cheeks which were quickly kissed away by your tender husband.
“Good, pretty girl,” You heard him grunt, his thrusts becoming sloppily. He was trying so hard not to cream inside that little cunt of yours. The same man who swore to you on your wedding night that he’d never want to see you weep was getting off on your tears. “Look at your pretty pussy, nena. It’s sucking me in,” He said between breaths, mesmerized by the sticky strings of arousal connecting you every time his hips pulled back. How could you be so pretty? “My wife, my perfect wife. I love you, baby.” Miguel was babbling and his head was churning out thoughts by the second. He could only focus on making you cum.
Slap, slap, slap.
“Miguel! Miguel! Mmngh~!” Saliva dripped down your chin and more gloopy tears spilled from your gorgeous eyes. Each thrust was a kiss to your sweetspot, pussy dripping sweet nectar which left a ring around the base on Miguel’s cock. “Te amo, cariño,” You squealed just as the knot in your tummy tightened as well as your legs around his waist. You were close, and Miguel would stop at nothing until he felt your cunt flutter around him. Despite drilling into your hole, his eyes were soft as he brushed your hair away from your eyes. He was drenched in passion with sweat sticking to his tan skin.
“M’ gonna cum~ C-Can’t hold it,” You whispered and you saw a switch in your husband flip.
Miguel’s talons retreated into his fingers and with strenght, he flipped you over on your stomach and went haywire. Kneading your ass, he whimpered as he chased so desperately after the pleasure. “Close- Cum- cum with me! Nena~” His plush lips fell open and his load filled your womb just as your own sticky fluids ran down the skin of your thighs. Your soaked pussy fluttered and a loud call of his name rang out. “Oh..oh god.”
Spent, Miguel flipped over next to you with labored breaths. His strong arms came around your waist and pulled you on top of his chest. “Miggy,” you purred and kissed his lips. The dim room lighting glinted of the glossy skin of your lover and you swore that your heartbeat had become impossibly fast. The two lovers panted heavily in each other’s arms, waiting for their energy to return so that they could do at all over again.
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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: ❝the summer’s hot, and i’ve been waiting for you all this time.❞ — rafe finally comes back home from his two-month long family vacation, surprising you in the middle of the night.
warnings: established relationship, ward overhears you and rafe on the phone, dry humping, heavy petting, oral (f receiving), face sitting, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, unprotected sex
word count: 2.3k
a/n: it literally makes me so happy when i see the feedback you guys give me, especially when you show your support by reblogging or simply liking. i love and appreciate every single one of you <333 series masterlist
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“you’re actually lying.” tears were already forming in your eyes as rafe spoke on the other line. “i wish i was, baby. we were supposed to fly back in this morning but some weather shit got in the way, so we’re kinda stuck here until they let us know when there’s another flight available.” you sighed, trying your best to keep your voice from shaking. “have you asked the airport people already?” there was a slight pause before rafe answered.
“they said it could be weeks since the hurricanes here get pretty crazy.” weeks?! you thought you could die right now. “i’m so mad my parents didn’t let me go.” the tears were falling now. you and rafe had never been apart for this long. with all the built up anticipation, you couldn’t help but get youreself excited and hopeful about seeing him today, just for all of it to come crashing down with a single phone call. “i wish you were here too, babe. i got you a bunch of stuff from the shopping centers here, i think you’ll love it.” you wanted to cry harder because of how sweet he was.
“aww, you didn’t have to do that for me, baby.” you cooed, your heart fluttering in your chest when you heard the smile in his voice. “at least you’re going on winter vacation with me.” you nodded, trying to stay as positive as you can. “that’s true. i can’t help but to think my parents are trying to torture me or something,” you laughed, “they heard the words ‘shared hotel room’ and freaked out.” rafe shook his head even though you couldn’t see him. “they did, right?” he glanced at the tv, the weather report still the same.
“yeah, but rightfully so i guess. could you imagine if we shared a room for two months?” you bit your lip at the idea. “it’s a good thing we didn’t tell them that we’d have a whole cabin to ourselves in december.” you shut your eyes for a moment, wishing so bad that you could speed up the time. “you need to come back to me already. i’m sad and horny.” rafe snorted at your words. “hey, at least we know we could have amazing phone sex.” before you could respond, you heard what sounded like ward in the background.
“come on, rafe. seriously man?” you gasped, shooting up from your bed. “rafe! i thought you were somehwere private!” your cheeks were on fire with how hard you were blushing right now. “tell ward i said hi.” rafe did as you asked, a muffled ‘hey, sweetheart.’ sounding on the other line. “wheezie and sarah there?” as if you could be anymore mortified right now. “nah, they went to a gift shop with rose.” thank, god. “well, i told lia that i’d go with her to the beach for a little, so i better start getting ready.” you put him on speaker, opening your drawer that had all your bikini’s in it.
“all right, i’m gonna let you go babe,” rafe sighed, “i’ll update you as soon as i find something out.” you chose a top, and grabbed a pair of jean shorts as you started changing. “okay. i’ll see you soon, love you.” you smiled when he kissed the mic. “i love you more, i’ll talk to you later.” you hung up, feeling slightly better after hearing his voice. it didn’t take you long to pack your beach tote, lia picking you up soon after.
you spent the rest of the day with your friend, both of you taking pictures and reading your books. “wanna stay the night at mine? i could really go for some pizza right now.” lia pouted as she pulled into your driveway. “i wish. i have to go to breakfast with my family tomorrow.” she put the car in park, looking at you apologetically. “oh, that’s right! it’s okay, hang tomorrow afterwards?” you grabbed your bag from the backseat. “for sure. i’ll call you when i get home.” she nodded, in which you waved. “hey! send me the pictures we took!” you shouted as she rode off.
“hey, guys,” you greeted your parents as you closed the front door behind you. they were curled up on the couch watching a movie. “hey!” your mom whispered, not wanting to wake your father who was resting his head on her lap. they always looked so cute together. “i’m gonna go shower. goodnight.” you walked past them, eagerly waiting to check your phone to see if you had any messages from rafe.
[2:32 PM] loml <3: still the same bs. i’ll try to call you again tonight
you gasped at the timestamp. that was hours ago. it was about ten o’clock now, and you were definitely feeling the effects of your activities today.
[10:02 PM] y/n: superrr sleepy rn, i’ll still answer if you call bb
you waited until the message delivered and quickly got in the shower. after washing your hair and rinsing yourself off, you changed into an oversized t-shirt and called it a night. you don’t know how long you’d been asleep for, but your eyes were fluttering open as you felt your bed dip beside you.
your heart dropped when you saw a dark figure looming over you, a loud gasp escaping your lips. before you could scream, a large hand covered your mouth. your eyes widening as you starting hitting the person against their chest. “baby, it’s me! it’s me!” you stopped as soon as you heard his voice, rafe’s hand slowly moving away from your face. “what the hell!” you whispered, immediately throwing your arms around him. “how are you here right now?” you reached over, turning on the small lamp on your nightstand.
the soft light barely did anything to illuminate the space, but your heart skipped a beat once you could make out his features. you stared at each other for a few moments before he took your lips into a searing kiss. “fuck, i missed you so much.” he leaned all his body weight on top of you, the feeling nearly bringing you to tears. “two months, rafe. never again.” you scolded him, letting him settle between your thighs. “my dad pulled some strings and we were able to come back today. just landed like an hour ago.” he could barely talk as he kissed you inbetween his words.
the reality of the situation made you stop, your body freezing underneath him. “what?” he looked at you confused. “my parents are here! how did you even get in?” you scrambled to get up, locking your door before you could get caught. when you turned around, rafe was laying flat on your mattress, a sliver of skin poking out from under his t-shirt. “my key. they were knocked out cold on the couch, so i just snuck up here.” he propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes falling to your bare thighs. “you wearing anything underneath that?” you smiled before shaking your head and lifting up the hem of your shirt teasingly. “no.” rafe’s gaze darkened as he watched you straddle him.
“why?” his hands ran up your thighs, squeezing the flesh before they settled on your hips. you shrugged. “just wanted to be ready for you.” rafe could already feel his cock hardening with your words alone. “yeah?” he dragged your hips against his, your naked cunt rubbing against his shorts. “fuck,” you whimpered, letting your head fall to the side as you balanced yourself on your palms. “i missed hearing that. missed seeing you like this.” he took the shirt off of you, marveling at the sight of your bare figure on top of him.
“i want you to get yourself off on me,” rafe splayed a hand over your stomach, “wanna watch you move.” you grabbed his hand, placing his middle and ring fingers in your mouth, your hips grinding against him. “you’re so fucking perfect, ‘don’t know how i made it two months without you.” you moaned, sucking his digits while you started a steady rhythm. you knew you were overly sensitive because of how long it’d been without him here, but you couldn’t help the aftershocks that came with your clit rubbing against his hard on.
rafe groaned, knowing he wouldn’t last too long like this. while he spewed out the most filthy things you’ve ever heard, you sped up, desperate to reach the high you were so close to. rafe screwed his eyes shut, stopping you just before he could cum in his shorts. the sound of both of you trying to catch your breaths filtered throughout your room as you blinked down at him. “i was so close,” you pouted, clenching around nothing. “ride my face.” your eyes widened. “what?” rafe grabbed you by your waist, a yelp leaving your lips as he held you above his mouth.
you shuddered when you felt his breath fanning against the inside of your thighs. “are you su- fuck!” you cried when you felt his tongue where you ached for him the most. “oh my god, rafe,” he was quick to interwine his fingers with yours, holding you tightly so you couldn’t move away. this was new for both of you, but rafe was quickly realizing that watching you with your jaw slacked and greedily chasing his tongue with your hips was becoming his new favorite view.
he moaned against your soaked cunt, the slight vibration making your eyes roll back. “r-rafe!” your hips stuttered as you felt the sweet release of pure euphoria wash over you. rafe held you tighter against him, his tongue attacking your clit as you shook uncontrollably. two months of phone sex could never compare to the real thing, your breaths becoming labored as rafe laid you down. “i’m gonna fuck you senseless.” rafe kissed you, your wetness still on his lips as he did so. just as you pulled away, a knock sounded from your bedroom door.
“y/n, is everything okay honey?” your eyes widened as rafe took the opportunity to roll one of your nipples between his fingers, your face burying in his chest to muffle the moan that left your mouth. “i-i’m okay! just.. cramps!” rafe trailed sloppy kisses across your neck, smiling against your skin as you struggled to formulate a single sentence. “aw i hope you feel better, call me if you need anything, love.” you waited until her footsteps receeded down the hallway before you smacked rafe playfully. “you’re terrible!” you laughed.
he took off his shirt, his muscles on full display as he discarded his shorts. fuck, he was glorious. “yeah, but you love me.” you smiled as he slotted himself between your legs, shivering once you felt his cock sit between your folds. “i do love you.” rafe ran his fingers through your hair, caging you between his arms as he slid into you, a moan sounding from both your mouths. you stretched around him so deliciously, rafe’s head resting in the crook of your neck.
“is that my favorite body wash?” he looked up, pecking your jaw when you nodded. “something told me to use it tonight.” your eyes fluttered shut when rafe pulled out, pushing back into you as he hooked your thigh around his waist. “this is all i could think about over there,” he sighed, “i just wanted to feel this perfect pussy squeezing around me.” you mewled at his words, your nails digging into his shoulders. “did you think about me, baby?”
you nodded, your back arching into his chest. “fuck, yes. i missed having you on top of me, ‘missed taking your cock.” he groaned, lightly wrapping a hand around your neck as his pace sped up. rafe adjusted you so your head was resting on top of his arm as he kissed you roughly. his thrusts were unforgiving, soon the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in your room. with the way the head of his cock was stroking that soft spot inside you, you couldn’t bring yourself to care if you were being too loud. you started meeting his thrusts, your clit meeting his pubic bone.
“you’re doing so fucking good for me.” he panted, his breath fanning your cheeks. you wrapped your arms around his neck, crying out into his skin. “don’t stop!” he covered your mouth, shushing you as he fucked into you relentlessly. “i got you, baby. ‘gonna fill up this pretty cunt with my cum.” you whimpered, tears welling in your eyes as you felt your second orgasm nearing. with a couple more thrusts, you found yourself falling over the edge, your climax hitting you in waves of pure ecstasy. “oh, fuck,” rafe’s jaw was clenched as he suppressed the groan that threatened to rip itself from his throat.
you reveled in the feeling of his seed spilling into you, his eyebrows knitting in pleasure as he continued to move sloppily. “fuck, i don’t think i ever came that hard before.” he removed his hand, allowing you to take a full breath. you sighed, curling into your boyfriend as he plopped down beside you. “i missed this the most.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, his fingers tracing shapes into your side. you smiled softly, draping an arm across his torso. “i could fall asleep like this..” rafe’s voice was hoarse, both of you yawning at the same time.
“me too,” you started, “i’m gonna go grab some water real quick, i’ll be right back.” he pulled you down for another kiss before letting you get up. you poked your head outside your door, slipping on a shirt and a pair of underwear before slipping out. you tiptoed down the stairs, walking into the kitchen where your mother sat with her laptop. “oh-” you smiled awkwardly, getting two water bottles out of the fridge. your mom looked up at you from her spot at the kitchen island.
“i take it that rafe is back from vacation? you’re lucky i left the volume up on the tv.”
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hanasnx · 2 months
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MINORS DNI 18+
! ── BABY DADDY!JASON TODD who can't come around more than once or twice a year. His way of life isn't sustainable for a home, and it certainly isn't safe for a daughter. You and him decided it was best to part ways before that positive pregnancy test, and since he discovered a kid he helped make it didn't change his level of involvement. He's got a lot of eyes on him, and he can't draw attention to anything important to him.
! ── Your daughter adores him. She squeals with delight every time he visits, running full barrel towards him so he can scoop her up. Unbeknownst to her your concern with how he found you again, and how he broke in to the apartment. Apparently running and hiding is not enough when you face the Red Hood. You reluctantly greet him with a half-assed kiss on the cheek, wrapping your arm around his neck to incline him towards you. Your daughter on his hip takes full advantage of hugging you both at the same time, and pressed against your former lover makes you tight-lipped.
! ── He's dangerous for a number of reasons that span beyond what any angry enemy of his would do if they found out where he's been going. You're most afraid of what he's able to make you do the longer you're with him. Only able to hold onto your anger for so long until he melts that cold exterior and somehow convinces you to let him warm your bed again.
! ── He's got it down to a science. As soon as you give him that scathing look, he tells your daughter to run along because "Mommy and Daddy have to talk." while she thoughtfully strokes his chin with her little hand, only to nod with an audible sigh, shaking out her wild hair she won't let you brush. With a little push to her back, she scampers off to her room and he stands to his full height. "I just wanted to see her." he tells you, with that pleading tone you've fallen for countlessly because he knows you're going to say: "It's not safe." for the thousandth time.
! ── He'll tower over you, incline towards you while you scold him under your breath. A hushed argument ensues that your daughter tries to listen in on, and can only hear bits and pieces about how she's not owned, and her dad should get to see her. Stuff she doesn't understand, especially because she can't understand his lack of presence being such a complicated thing when she has no sense of object permanence. If a dad refuses to be there more, it's a problem. You want to cut Jason out completely. That's not fair, as he'll tell you, to the daughter you get to keep.
! ── It's in the way he stands next to you. He's so much taller than you, broader, and muscled. He bulks up more and more every time you see him. He doesn't use his size to intimidate you, rather takes advantage of something else. Big hands stuffed in his back pockets make his leather jacket sit on his wide shoulders exquisitely. His hair is windblown from his motorbike and just the smell of him has a dangerous Pavlov effect on you. Like your eyes want to flutter as they roll into the back of your head and lightning shoots straight down to your core, stinging at the memory of what it's like to be filled by him. The longer you're with him, the thinner your resolve becomes. It evaporates in front of you as he sweeps a hand through his hair, and his posture slacks. "C'mon." he drags out the word playfully, advancing on you. Your hand interrupts him, bracing on his firm chest to keep him from coming closer. "Can't we talk about something else? You're getting me all worked up. Missed you."
You roll your jaw, that resolve slipping. Addicted to him, you're reticent as his tongue darts out to wet his lips while he's eyeing yours. "Jay..." you murmur, and he can hear the defeat in your voice.
! ── "Lucky we got a sitter, huh?" Jason's smug voice cuts through the wet sounds of sex that fills the room. "Now I get some time with my other little girl." That sick delight causes you to reach back, weakly banging your fist against his thigh. He snickers, wolfish and husky resounding from the back of his throat. "Mommy's been missing me, huh? Can feel her clenching down on me like a fuckin' vice."
His thick cock hurts stretching you out, but you needed that pain. There's something about Jason that keeps you saying yes, and it pushed through your requirement of foreplay, unbuckling that belt in haste, comfort be damned you wanted that dick. You're on all fours and he's giving it to you from the back, just how you like it, fucking you like a dog while his hand tangles all up in your hair. He yanks you back by it, and you can't even think of what to say other than mindless pleasured babbles.
"You let me do this every time I come over. Seems like you fuck with me or something." It's true, regardless of the cruel insults you've thrown at him to get him to stay away from you, it's all because you can't say no to him. It's the reason you got pregnant, it's the reason you can't run away far enough, and it's the reason you fuck him every time he comes to visit the kid he helped make.
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assembletheimagines · 2 months
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Can you do one where Bucky is your best friend and he finds out you have a praise kink and you find out Bucky has a bulge kink and one thing leads to another you now riding Bucky with his hand on your throat calling you a good girl and telling you you doing amazing while he points out how deep he is in you by the bulge. And when y'all are are done you fall asleep with him still inside you?
From- your deer fan
Good Girl
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a/n: The way you came in and attacked me like this- ugh, I'm here for it lmao. Please give me more haha
My thought process is you two are friends with building sexual tension and Bucky's finally had enough.
warnings: bucky’s big, praise, smut, cream pie, a smidge of dirty talk?? 18+ to interact
-
You read the text, and then you read it again as you try to comprehend the little words in the bubble from Bucky.
You couldn’t believe it and at the same time you could feel the heat raise in your body as you read the texts again.
Bucky had to be joking, your friend had suddenly turned into a comedian over the last few hours of you two texting back and forth and he was joking.
But then another text popped up, now only containing your name and your breath caught in your throat as another text followed asking you to be a good girl and come over.
And so you did.
-
"Fuck baby, just like that, go nice and slow-" Bucky groans beneath you. His hands gripping your hips as your hand that's wrapped around his dick, slips the head of his cock inside your soaking pussy.
Your thighs were already shaking with just the head, your walls stretching to accommodate his girth. Fuck, it was so big.
"Bucky, I can't I-" your hands move to rest on his chest as you slowly lowered yourself further down. You felt so full with just the first few inches you couldn't imagine the feeling of all of him.
But all thoughts leave your mind as Bucky moves a hand to your clit. A whine leaves your mouth, head falling back as his thumb rubs swift circles causing a new wave of slick to form between your thighs and make you sink lower onto his dick.
"Yes you can," he hums, his thumb never letting up as your eyes roll back and his eyes train on where you two are connected. He watches as you take more of him, your cunt fluttering around his length as he bullies his way in. "See? You're doing so well, taking everything I give you." He coos and your face flushes at the praise, squeezing his cock in response.
And that's all Bucky needs to know, his smirk growing as his eyes darken. His dick twitches inside you and your ass sits on his thighs as you take all of him. Your drowning him, your slick dripping and smearing on his pelvis and balls and you were just getting started.
"Do you like it when I tell you how good you are?" Bucky hums and moves you up a little only to force you back down onto his cock. You both groan at the feeling and your walls tighten around him again as he repeats the actions slowly, still talking to you. "Because you're doing so well, so good, god you're soaking my cock with how wet you are." He groans and your hips roll, his praise fueling your own movements as you lift yourself up and then down again.
His cock is nudging the soft spot inside you with each bounce. Your mind beginning to fog with each roll of your hips. Your eyes become glossy and you begin to babble because it felt so good, you felt so full, " s-so good." Your words slur and Bucky can't look away from you as the lust takes over and you begin to fuck yourself onto Bucky eagerly. Your movements growing in speed as you dig your nails into his chest.
"That's it," he groans hands holding your hips as your moans mix with the wet squelching noise made every time you take him all in. "I want you to make a mess, baby." He grunts and thrusts up to meet your movements, watching your tits bounce with each motion. "I want you to cum on my cock, need to see how good I'm making you feel."
Your eyes flutter close as your thighs begin to shake, the familiar burn in your inner thighs forming as the knot in your abdomen grows. Each thrust has him hitting the soft spot inside you and you're seeing stars and you can't get enough. "Bucky," his name is the only coherent thing you can say between moans and gasps and Bucky's not much better.
You feel so good wrapped around him and his eyes zone in to your lower stomach. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck-" Bucky curses as he realizes the bulge that appears and disappears with each thrust, is him. It's him.
And then you're falling forward as Bucky takes over, flipping you both so he's on top. Your legs find themselves over his arms as he snaps his hips into you harder and faster, his hand resting right over the bulge with each thrust.
He moves your hand to rest where his was and you can feel his cock move from inside you, and your mind blanks, body seizing up as your orgasm takes over suddenly. It makes Bucky curse more and move his thumb back down to your clit, his thrusts never letting up as he fucks you through your orgasm and chases after his own.
His eyes flicker down to your stomach again and with a few more rolls of his hips, he's pressing into you as far as he can as rope after rope of cum begins to fill you up inside. His mouth falling open, taking his turn to being the one babbling now. "Fuck, it's like you were made for me. Took me so well, and you're going to take all my cum, right? Be my good girl and let me stuff you full, yeah?"
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yuujispinkhair · 3 months
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You are watching Sukuna. And Sukuna is watching his brother's girlfriend... Until he is watching you.
-> This is Part 2 of this drabble
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Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Fluff + angst with a happy end. Word count: 4k. Angst, lots of pining, unrequited love at first, mentions of alcohol. There is no cheating. Sukuna and Reader get their happy end. Minors don't interact.
This small series was inspired by this beautiful art by @nayasch.
Also, for the best experience, I recommend listening to "Is there somewhere" by Halsey while reading this. I had it on repeat while writing. Divider @/hitobaby
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It's a spilled drink that brings you closer to Sukuna.
Just a moment ago, you were holding your breath as you walked past the tattooed, pink-haired boy who makes your heart race, too shy to even look his way when you were so close to him. But then someone knocked into you, and now you are standing there like a deer in the headlights, your hands wet, your shirt ruined, staring wide-eyed at the big red stain soaking the front of your crush's white t-shirt.
You faintly hear some guy behind you apologizing. You have no idea if he is apologizing to you or to Sukuna. All you know is that Sukuna is glaring daggers at him,
"Get out of my sight before I punch your stupid face!"
And then those beautiful maroon eyes snap to you, and you forget how to breathe. You wished for Sukuna's gaze to find you, dreamed about it all the time. Hoped he would notice you, hoped that fate would hand you a chance to get closer to him. But now that it happens so unexpectedly, you don't know what to do. A muttered "S... sorry." leaves your lips.
Sukuna's gaze travels from your face down to your shirt, which is just as soaked as his. And that attractive lopsided smirk appears on his face, the one that gives you butterflies, especially now when he is standing right in front of you, close enough to touch. He shrugs,
"Wasn't your fault. I'm gonna change into a fresh shirt. What about you? Want one, too?"
You barely manage a nod before Sukuna starts walking away, and you quickly follow him to his room with your heart beating up to your throat.
He doesn't bother turning away but just pulls his soaked shirt off right in front of you, making your stomach flutter and your face heat when you see his firm abs and chest adorned with those sexy tattoos.
He laughs softly, probably seeing how flustered you are by his bare chest. But he doesn't comment on it and hands you one of his clean shirts, a white one like the one he was wearing before you spilled your drink over it.
He leaves the room after slipping into a fresh shirt, leaving you alone in his room so you can change in peace.
You sit on his bed afterward, pulse fluttering as you feel the soft fabric of Sukuna's shirt on your skin. You bring it to your nose to inhale its scent. It's fresh out of the laundry, so it mostly smells just of fabric softener, but it was in his dresser with his other things, and you can very faintly smell his cologne on it, making you close your eyes and sigh softly, overcome by a longing so bad it almost makes you choke up.
It's ironic. As if fate is taunting you. Here you are, sitting on Sukuna's bed and wearing his shirt like a girlfriend would. But he is already gone again, back to the party, where he will gaze at his brother's girl with the same longing in his eyes that fills yours, too, when you look his way.
Your hand reaches out to touch Sukuna's pillow, fingers sprawling over it, while you stare longingly at the dent where his head rests every night. What you wouldn't give to sleep in this bed with him. Feeling his strong arms around you, your body snuggled against his. Holding him, loving him, showing him that he can have all those things he longs for.
If only things were different.
It's hard to pull yourself away and leave Sukuna's room again. You feel a strange mix of emotions as you walk back to the party. Exhilaration upon getting Sukuna's shirt and being in his room, mixed with that familiar heavy feeling in your chest because you know he isn't yours, and he probably never will be.
You enter the living room and see him leaning casually against the wall in his fresh shirt, tattooed arms crossed over his chest, biceps flexed enticingly, head tilted back, a bottle of vodka pressed to his lips as his eyes are once again on his brother and his girlfriend, who are dancing in the middle of the room.
You leave the party shortly after to go home and crawl into your bed, still wearing Sukuna's shirt, hugging your pillow to your chest, wishing it was him.
Is he alone in his bed, too? Does he yearn, too? Does he, too, think about the one he craves but cannot have?
The thought makes your heart throb painfully.
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Another party, another evening of watching the boy you secretly love from your safe space across the room. His gaze is unsurprisingly on the girl standing next to his brother. Yuuji says something to her, and she laughs happily and hugs him tightly, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. And you see Sukuna's jaw tighten, see his Adam's apple bob as he gulps hard, see the burning jealousy and pain in his eyes.
You blink against the tears threatening to well up in your eyes. His pain is almost palpable to you, but no one else seems to see it. No one seems to care enough to really look at Sukuna. They all just see Sukuna's mocking smirk and the arrogance and roughness he wears like armor. They don't see the pain in those beautiful maroon eyes. They don't see that his heart is aching.
Maybe you only recognize the signs because you feel the same way.
Maybe it is this all too familiar pain you see on his face that makes you brave tonight. And after all, you have a good excuse to walk up to him and stop in front of him, tilting your head to look up at his beautiful face, and say softly,
"Hey, Sukuna... thank you for the shirt you gave me last week. I wanted to give it back to you."
You don't really want to give it back. You have slept every night in it since last week, snuggling into it, inhaling the faint traces of Sukuna's scent, dreaming about having him in your bed, hugging him, feeling the warmth of his body seep through the thin fabric of the t-shirt.
But you reluctantly put it in the washing machine yesterday, folded it neatly, and put it in your bag to return it to him tonight.
You hand him the shirt, and Sukuna takes it, his large hand with the tattoos and various rings brushing over yours, sending the butterflies fluttering in your stomach like crazy. You know how nervous you must look when you smile a shaky smile at him,
"Thank you again. That was really nice of you."
There is surprise in his eyes as if no one ever tells him he is nice. Maybe he isn't. Or maybe people just don't see the small, nice things he does sometimes. Maybe he doesn't want them to see.
"No problem, princess."
You lie awake that night, in your own shirt this time, but with Sukuna's low, velvety voice playing over and over in your mind, calling you princess. You know it means nothing, but it still makes your heart race and a giddy smile lift your lips.
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You clutch your drink tightly as you watch the boy you secretly love from across the room, just like you do every weekend. If only you weren't so shy. If only you were brave enough to walk over to him without needing a reason like giving back his shirt.
You sigh longingly as your eyes trail over Sukuna's face. Longing is what you can see on his face, too, as his gaze is on the happy couple at the other end of the room. Your chest feels so tight that it hurts.
I want to take the pain away from you, Sukuna. I wish I could be the one to make you happy.
But you are standing here, and he is standing over there with his eyes on someone else.
A sad love song starts playing and the air in the room feels suffocating all of a sudden.
Maybe you should leave.
What are you even doing at this party, where you are surrounded by so many people but feel more alone than at home, where it is only you and your bed?
What are you doing, coming here week after week just to stare at a boy you can't have? Hurting yourself when you see him looking at someone else. Drowning in desperation when you realize week after week that he is just as alone in his pain as you are and that you will probably never be able to break through his walls.
He is in pain, and you are in pain, and nothing will change about that.
Might as well leave and never come back. Stay away from those stupid parties. Find other places to go to. Maybe after some time, you will be able to forget about pink hair and black tattoos and maroon eyes.
Right when you push yourself off the wall, Sukuna turns his head. That beautiful maroon gaze lands on you, and all you can do is stare back at him.
Time seems to slow down as you and Sukuna look at each other across the room. You are sure he can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the pain in your eyes, can recognize it for what it is because he carries the same pain in his eyes.
Maybe that shared pain is what makes him slowly walk over to you. He stops in front of you, his typical teasing smirk on his lips, but the same sadness still unveiled in his eyes.
For a moment, you think he will ask you to go to his room with him to fuck. And it fills you with dread because you know you would just be a rebound. You would just be someone he uses for sex to take his mind off the girl he really wants. It would mean nothing to him. And yet, you know that you would say yes. You would go with him, would lay down in his bed, would let him take everything he needs from you until you have nothing left. And in turn, you would take anything he is willing to give you, too, even if it was just meaningless sex. Because even if he just used you to distract himself, it would still be better than nothing. Even if it were just impersonal sex, without any feelings involved from his side, you would still go with him just to feel his skin on yours.
But to your relief, the question never comes. Instead, he says in that calm, low voice,
"You look like you aren't enjoying this stupid party either. Even the pizza tastes disgusting. I'll make something myself. Wanna join me?"
You follow him as if you are in a daze. Everything around you is blurred as you walk behind Sukuna's tall figure, following him to the kitchen, your head spinning, making you feel light-headed even though you barely drank any alcohol.
You sit on the kitchen counter while he cooks. Studying his beautiful face while he is focusing on the pan in front of him. The pain in his eyes is not as burning anymore while he stirs the vegetables and adds various spices. Maybe this is why he wanted to come here. Maybe cooking distracts him enough to ease the pain at least a little.
Those maroon eyes you love so much meet yours while Sukuna tells you how tired he is of those parties all the time and those people he cannot stand in his apartment. He doesn't say what he really means, but you know. How tired his heart is of the longing, of the pain, of having to pretend like he is ok.
You tell him he is a good cook when he hands you a spoon to try, and a smile flickers over his face. A genuine smile, not the typical smirk. And it makes you fall. Makes you tumble down an abyss that you know you will never be able to get out of again. As if you needed to fall even more for him. As if you weren't already too in love with him.
You know you are lost. Lost in everything that makes Sukuna Sukuna. You thought you knew him and already fell in love with what you knew about him on a surface level. But now you have caught glimpses of the boy beneath the surface, and it makes you fall even deeper in love with him. Makes your chest hurt even more. Makes your every fiber scream with longing.
He hoists himself up on the kitchen counter next to you, handing you a plate and grabbing one for himself, too. You sit in silence, eating side by side, while the sounds of the party dimly drift to your ears through the closed door.
You praise his cooking skills some more because you are too nervous to think of anything else to say and because you like the way his lips curl in a smile again and how the pain in his eyes is almost completely gone when he turns to look at you.
He tells you where he got the recipe, how he adjusted it over several weeks, and that he enjoys cooking a lot. The way he says it doesn't sound like he is simply doing small talk, but rather as if he is letting you in on a secret. As if this is a side of Sukuna that people aren't supposed to know.
And you smile softly at him, hoping it conveys that you are grateful that he lets you share this moment with him.
His thumb brushes over the corner of your lips to scoop up some stray sauce, making your heart beat so fast you think you will black out.
When you leave an hour later, you tell him that you really enjoyed yourself,
"Thank you for letting me try your food. It tasted delicious... and I..."
You want to tell him how happy it made you to spend time with him, just the two of you in the kitchen. That you will always keep those moments in your heart like a treasure. But you are too shy to say those words out loud, and so you trail off sheepishly, smiling nervously at him and nodding awkwardly.
"Bye, Sukuna. Have a nice rest of the night."
He watches you closely with those beautiful maroon eyes, a thoughtful expression on his face, saying nothing. But he holds the door open for you like a gentleman in those old movies.
You can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin when you lie in bed with a smile on your face and a warm feeling in your chest for the first time after coming home after one of those parties.
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You are standing in a corner, taking a sip from your drink as your gaze wanders to the tall figure leaning against the wall across the room. Tattooed face and arms, pink hair, and maroon eyes.
You are prepared to see his gaze glued to his brother's girl. You are prepared to see the familiar longing and pain on his face. But you frown when you realize Sukuna's gaze isn't staring at a fixed place but instead wandering slowly through the room, scanning it as if he is searching for something or someone, even though the object of his pining is right in front of him. And yet that gaze slips over her and continues to wander.
Until it lands on you.
It catches you so off guard that you spill your drink again. This time, only over your own shirt, but you cannot bring yourself to look at the mess. Your eyes are on Sukuna, watching wide-eyed as he walks toward you, brushing past the girl you thought he would look at without so much as sparing a glance at her.
He looks amused when he takes in the mess on your shirt. A raised eyebrow, a boyish grin lifting the corners of his lips, a long tattooed finger pointing at your chest,
"Need one of my shirts again?"
You are back in his room a few minutes later, changing into one of his clean shirts while he has his back turned to you, making your heart beat so fast that you fear he can hear it thundering in your chest.
He leans against his desk while you sit on his bed, finding it hard to breathe with how nervous you are. With how lovesick you are for him. The longing to hold him so bad that you feel dizzy from it.
And he talks to you, tells you about a new recipe he tried, about a cooking show he watched, about this and that. Like he wants to keep you here in his room. Like he wants a reason to stay here and not go out to the party again. Like you are his escape.
His shirt feels soft on your skin, his bed so tempting under you. You grab a small pillow to hug to your chest, and the butterflies flutter like crazy when you smell Sukuna's cologne wafting off it.
He jokingly asks you,
"Did you spill your drink intentionally so you could get one of my shirts again? Liked it so much, huh?"
And you chuckle and tell him,
"Well, the end justifies the means. That shirt you gave me last time was really comfy. I slept in it a whole week."
You feel your face heat up when you realize what you just admitted. But Sukuna just laughs, and those beautiful maroon eyes sparkle like two precious jewels.
He tells you to keep his shirt this time.
"So you have something to sleep in."
And your voice wavers nervously, but you still tell him:
"You are really nice, Sukuna. Do you know that?"
He scrunches his nose at that,
"That's something I've never heard anyone tell me before. Are you sure you got the right Sukuna?"
"Yeah. In my eyes, you are nice. At least when you want to. You give me your shirts, and you let me try your self-cooked meals, and you hold open doors and talk to me and... make me feel less alone on these parties."
The last part comes out in a whisper, your emotions threatening to choke you up as you are overcome by your feelings for him. Being so close to him, spending time with him, seeing him smile and joke around with you. Sharing those moments with him that seem like something special.
Sukuna's eyes widen, an emotion flickering over his face that you cannot place. Surprise, maybe, but also something else. Something much softer. He looks away for a moment, staring at his wall that is adorned with pictures of pretty landscapes and bright red shrines and an old man standing in the middle of two pink-haired boys.
When he looks at you again, there is a vulnerability in his eyes you have never seen before. His voice is soft when he tells you,
"You make me feel less alone, too."
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Sukuna kisses you for the first time at a party two weeks later. And it is not a kiss in the middle of the party. It is not a kiss in front of his brother and his girlfriend. It is not a kiss meant for someone else. It is not a kiss to make someone jealous. It is not a kiss only for the show.
No, it is a kiss that is real. In his room, where he sits next to you on his bed. It is soft and slow. Sukuna's hand is cupping your cheek gently, his lips brushing over yours slowly as if he is scared to hurt you or hurt himself. As if he is scared that he is fucking things up. Or maybe as if he fears he doesn't deserve this.
It's a kiss that makes you fall apart and makes you whole at the same time.
You kiss him back as tenderly as he kisses you. Slow and gentle, your eyes closed, your hand landing on his neck and caressing the short stubble of his undercut. You kiss him like you are writing poetry for him with your lips against his, putting all the words you are too shy to say into this kiss, all your longing for him, all the tenderness you feel for him, all your love. And he kisses you like he is a drowning man who finally reached the saving shore.
You walk out of his room side by side. Sukuna holds your hand, tugging you along to the kitchen to cook another homemade meal he wants to share with you.
Your heart feels like bursting with happiness. No traces of pain are left in Sukuna's eyes when he hands you a plate of stir-fried rice. And that smile is lighting up his face again. He is so beautiful, and you tell him so without worrying that he will make fun of you.
He kisses you again when he walks you to the door, right there in the hallway where anyone can see, his lips lingering against yours before he pulls away as if he doesn't want to let you leave.
You smile at him and nod when he tells you to text him once you are safely home.
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"I like you."
Sukuna tells you in a soft voice while you are straddling his lap, currently cleaning some food experiment gone wrong off his tattooed face with a wet kitchen towel.
Wide, terrified maroon eyes look at you as if their owner thinks he just handed you a knife for you to ram into his chest and twist in his heart. It makes your own heart throb painfully even as you feel elated to hear that your feelings are reciprocated. Seeing this rough boy so scared. Scared of his feelings, scared of admitting them. Scared what you will do with that confession. Because all he knows about love is that it is painful and that it hurts and never gets returned.
You want to cry for him. For the boy who, until now, only knew meaningless sex and hopeless longing for what he thought he couldn't have. For the boy who believed that love wasn't meant for someone like him.
The first tear slips out of the corner of your left eye as Sukuna's large hands sprawl over your waist possessively, and he repeats his words despite the fear so evident in his low voice, the words nothing more than a hoarse whisper,
"I like you so fucking much."
Your hand with the towel is hovering in midair, your lips twitch, and finally, you cannot hold back anymore, and the tears spill over, running down your cheeks in hot rivulets. A broken sob falls from your lips, followed by a choked-up sounding:
"I like you too."
Sukuna closes his eyes for a moment, long black lashes fanning over his skin, a beautiful image that makes you drop the kitchen towel and cup his cheek with your hand. Your thumb brushes tenderly over the tattooed lines on his skin when those beautiful eyes open again and look deeply into yours.
He is braver than you are. Adding more to his confession. Making sure you can destroy him fully, if you like,
"Do you know what I mean? I.. I think I am in love with you."
"Sukuna..."
Your voice is thick with tears, but you continue despite the fresh tears welling up in your eyes, despite how much you are trembling in his arms,
"I... I am in love with you, too. Have been for months. Or maybe I was in love with an idea of you back then. But now I know the real you, and I fell even deeper in love with you."
You can see in his eyes that he half expected to get turned down, and it breaks your heart for him, even while happy laughter bubbles out of your trembling lips.
You cling to him when he kisses you, never wanting to let go again. Filled with the need to show him that this love won't hurt. That it won't slip through his fingers. That love can be good and safe and give him peace. That he deserves love, too, and that you are here to love him with everything you have.
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It's another Saturday, and you are at Sukuna and Yuuji's apartment two hours before the party starts, helping them with the preparations. Yuuji's girlfriend is there too. You feel a bit awkward, a bit uneasy when you see her. But she smiles a genuine smile at you and greets you with a hug.
You work next to her for an hour and realize that she probably never was aware of Sukuna's feelings. She might look at Sukuna, but she doesn't truly see him. She only sees Yuuji. Her gaze is filled with love when she looks at him with an expression on her face that lets you know she has found her person.
You turn around to glance at Sukuna, a mix of fear and hope in your heart. What you see makes your chest fill with warmth. Sukuna isn't looking at Yuuji's girl. He is looking at you. Looking at you with the same expression as Yuuji's girlfriend when she looks at Yuuji. And you know that Sukuna has found his person, too. 
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You wake up in Sukuna's bed with his tall, firm body behind you, just like you do almost every morning now. You feel his lips against your skin, trailing gentle kisses up and down your neck. His voice is still hoarse from sleeping when he murmurs,
"Mine."
His arms tighten around you and pull you even closer to him. And you answer with a smile audible in your voice,
"All yours."
Your cheeks almost hurt from smiling so broadly when you feel Sukuna's matching smile against your neck and hear his whispered:
"Just like I am all yours."
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I cried so much while writing this and listening to the song and looking at the beautiful fanart and the sadness in Sukuna's eyes. This version of Sukuna is my Achilles heel. I love this broken mess of a boy so much. I want to love him so bad and make him happy :(( This story hit me so hard, and the kissing scene is one of my favorite scenes I ever wrote. I am so emotional right now, but also so happy to share it with you.
Thank you so much to everyone who commented on the first part of this story, wishing for a happy end. I needed a happy end too, and I am so glad I wrote this!! This story is very personal. I could relate to Reader 100%, and I got the impression that a lot of people could see themselves in her, too. So I hope you could enjoy your happy end with Sukuna, just like I did 🖤
3K notes · View notes
ilylovelyz · 9 months
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⍣ ೋ the times they cried because of you
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☆ includes ushijima, iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama, bokuto
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USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — he never cries. you met this guy when the two of you were young freshman in high-school, and you quickly became a good friend of his. that being said, you never saw him cry. even when the two of you began dating in your senior year, you still never did. years passed, and it was the same as the previous years. sure, he occasionally got upset, but even then, he still put on a stoic display, never really letting you in on that side of him. even at your wedding, he sure showed some emotion but he didn't cry. then came the birth of your first child.
"she's so cute, isn't she 'toshi..?" you said weakly, forehead still damp with sweat, bodu trembling with the aftershocks of your hard, long labor. your eyes fluttered open, focusing on the sight of your dear wakatoshi holding your newborn baby.
your heart fluttered at the soft image of your husband holding the tiny baby closely again his chest, his forehead mere inches away from the baby's forehead. it was barely there, barely noticeable. if it weren't for the reflection of light, then you wouldn't have been able to see the way his eyes were glazed over, corners red, tears brimming at the borderlines of his eyes.
he was so memorized, so in love with this product of you, this product of his and your love. god, you just make him the happiest guy on earth.
with a grunt, he sniffled lightly, trying to mask his emotions. "yeah.."
IWAIZUMI HAJIME — he hates crying. but being the responsible and knowing person he is, he knows that crying is inevitable. but the "strong", reliable guy in him wants to punch himself every-time he feels his eyes sting at the feel of salty tears brimming at his waterline. unbeknownst to you, he would avoid you every-time he felt like he was going to cry, usually hiding in the locked confides of the bathroom. he thought he was hiding it well, until one fateful day where it all came crashing down..
"haji?" you said on the other side of the door. he immediately shot up, his eyes darting to the doorknob. he always made sure to lock it, but today, he was just so exhausted and down that the idea of a lock was forgotten. crap, "hey wait-," before he could even rise up from his slouched kneeling position on the bathtub's side, you opened the door unknowingly. "i just need my–hajime?"
there he was, in all of his fucking glory, hunched over, his face long and clearly expressing his hurt feelings. his heart fell to his stomach, his vision going cloudy as his day just kept getting worse. "hajime?" you called out once more, only your tone had softened, more light and tender. you reached a hand out to him, eyes full of concern. he couldn't help but jolt away from your hand, eyebrows furrowing at your softness.
he didn't like your tone. why are you looking at him like that? like some sad kicked puppy lost in the middle of nowhere? it made him feel so small, so weak. "haji.. are you okay?" you whispered, crouching down to his level outside of the bathtub. you attempted yet again to touch the side of his face, lightly pressing your fingertips against his cheekbone before fully pressing your palm against the side of his face.
his lips trembled as he was just a second away from breaking down, his eyes locked on a single object as to hold on to the last of his will. you sighed softly at his resistance, of course he wouldn't want to cry in front of you, but you don't understand why, afterall, what makes a person weak for crying? "it's okay, hajime."
with that, fat tears finally ran down his cheeks, his eyes shutting close as he finally broke at your words. he could only grab onto your hand as you climbed into the tub, his head going straight into your chest as he sobbed and wailed.
MIYA ATSUMU — surprisingly, you've seen this guy cry many of times before. he cried when getting accepted into nationals, winning nationals, just crying at things any normal person would do. but he never cried for you. no, he held himself to higher standards. he'd never cry for someone, not even for you. yeah, he loved you, but he wasn't about to cry for someone like a little child. all high and mighty, he never thought you would actually have an affect on him like you do now. him being someone who wears his heart proudly on his sleeve, he found himself getting into an argument late at night with you, too prideful to back down.
"are you serious atsumu?! you know i'd never do that!" you yelled, voice hoarse and scratchy due to the ongoing screaming match between you and your boyfriend. "oh really?! then why were ya' 'll over that fucker earlier? huh?!" he yelled back, pointing out the way you were seemingly flirting with a guy at the club earlier.
but you weren't? you would never do that, you're not a scum. "what?! we were just talking?! am i not allowed to TALK to people atsumu?" you scoffed, arms crossing defensively. "if you wanna consider talking as flirting, then let's talk about that girl you were laughing with the other day? huh? let's talk about that!"
his eyebrow raised at your counter, fumbling nervously as he wondered what to say. "w-wh- you know what?! fuck you! i don't know why i'm even dating a bitch like you!" he said, almost immediately regretting his words when he saw the way your eye's widened at his harsh words. the apartment was finally silent as you registered his words, he wishes you had any sort of expression on your face, but you had nothing but a stoic and emotionless face.
"okay then," you finally said, arching your eyebrow in a taunting way, resting your hand down on your hip. "bye." you followed, grabbing your bag and your keys, turning your back on him.
he watched, frozen in his spot as you exited out the apartment with your composure. his body jolted when he heard the slam of the front door, finally letting out that breath he was unknowingly holding. he scoffed at what you said, clenching his jaw tightly as he tried to hold onto his pride. "damn it." he said.
he felt the tear roll down his cheek before he could even register that he was crying. "..damn it!"
KAGEYAMA TOBIO — to him, life is volleyball. his childhood consisted nothing of volleyball, and so will his adulthood. maybe his obsession with volleyball was a little extreme, but you never really minded. he respected you greatly for your patience, he wasn't dumb, he knew that his priority of volleyball was evident, so he always tried to make it up to you by spending time with you whenever you wanted. but it seemed like after awhile, he began to take your patience for granted. it wasn't until the nth time when he didn't show up for the nth date was when he realized.
kageyama was careful to shut the front door as quiet as he could, tiptoeing as he took off his shoes and walked throughout the dark hallways and into the master-bedroom. he jolted like a cat when he sat you sitting up on the side of the bed, back facing the doorway.
"y-you scared me. what are you doing up at this time? it's nearly 10PM." he stuttered obliviously. it was silent for a few seconds before you sighed, slowly turning your head to face him. "you forgot." you muttered before turning back to look at the wall. forgot? forgot what? it was then he noticed the way your hair was done, still clad in a pretty dress.
"o-oh.. the date! i-i'm sorry y/n, i promise i can make it up to you"— "don't bother." you interrupted, voice stern yet monotonous. what do you mean 'don't bother?' you love going on dates don't you? his lips pursed into a straight line, chewing on his bottom lips nervously. "w-what do you mean? i really promise, this thursday i have a free day.." he trailed off when you suddenly stood up from the bed.
"i mean that i think we should break up." his heart dropped at your words, eyes widening. break up? his mouth was agape, mind spinning with different solutions and apologies. before he could detest, you walked over to the corner of the room, pulling up a suitcase that he didn't even notice.
"b-but why? you said yourself that me and you are meant to be together?" he cried out, quickly rushing over to your side and grabbing onto your wrist. he watched your face closely, eyes taking note of every single feature of yours. you inhaled deeply, still refusing to look at him.
"i said that when we were in high-school and didn't have any major responsibilities. things have changed, we aren't in high-school any more. you're now a pro-volleyball player with big responsibilities, and i'm.. someone who clearly has too much time on their hands, wasting it on someone who can't give me any of theirs. it's not your fault, kageyama, but we just don't align anymore."
you finally said, tugging your hand away from his grasp. before you could take a step, his hands were once again on you, gripped onto your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. "but.. you said you would be there for my game at nationals.." he whimpered out, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
it was then, when you were finally walking out of his apartment, out of his life, was when he finally did realize, that maybe, he did take your patience for granted..
BOKUTO KOUTARO — this guy cries a lot. he's cried so many times you might have to start writing it down somewhere. he rarely masks his emotions, he's an open book. thats what you love so much about him, that he's so open and honest. you love the way he's so eager and sweet, you love the way he's always willing to talk to you and so damn clingy it's like you have your own personal koala. aside from the times he's happy, he's sad, sad because he didn't perform well, or because you didn't kiss him. but you never really made him cry, you'd never do that. or so you thought.
"y/n!! i missed you!" you hear a booming voice yell, his footsteps speeding up at the sight you. he paid no mind when you didn't respond to him, as you were currently hunched over the your work desk, laptop gleaming at you brightly. your back was turned to him, so you were basically calling him for a back hug.
"y/n!" — "not now koutaro." you interrupted, tone serious and stern. he raised his eyebrows at you with surprise, his arms a few inches away from your shoulders as they stilled in their preparation to hug you. "babe? is something wrong?" he asked curiously, lips pouting at your stern denial. you never decline a hug. you love them. right?
"i'm working. can't you see that?" you spit out, sighing deeply. you pull away your cramping fingers away from your keyboard, rubbing them over your sore eyes. "my gosh." you mumble under your breath, eyebrows intensely furrowed with stress. you had been working for a few hours straight, staring at nothing but a bright screen with words that were becoming incoherent to you.
you yelp out when you're suddenly pulled from your chair, being lifted up into bokuto's strong arms as he spins you around. "don't be so sad!" he says cheerfully, hoping to cheer you up with a big warm hug. only— this seems to make you mad. "put me down, koutaro!" you yell, pushing his chest away and forcing him to practically drop you.
"don't you see i'm working?! why are you so damn clingy? you're so annoying, god, why don't you just leave me alone?" you spit out. your words are like venom, stinging his heart greatly as his hair is quickly deflating once your words reach his ears. you simply return to your laptop once you've finished, typing mindlessly once more.
him? annoying? he didn't mean to annoy you..
he couldn't help but softly whimper, left standing in shock. he opened his mouth to say something before your previous words were reminding him to stay silent—leave me alone. he clutched his palms, looking at your turned back with teary eyes. he hopes you don't find him annoying for long..
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hungharrington · 3 months
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hey guys long time no see ! this was purely inspired bcos i think its HOT when guys hold their gfs legs open when they fuck. naturally im thinking of steve <3 enjoy! MDNI this entire blog is 18+ fem!reader
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Fire burns beneath your skin.
Pure flames of desire that seem to start in your gut, licking and settling alight every nerve in your body. The fire within you hums and you burn up deliciously in it, trying so hard to stay still and feel everything.
Your breath hits the pillow, its soft feel pressed up against your cheek. Steve's chest drags against your bare back. You can feel the muscles of his chest shift, the drag of his chest hair as his bicep bulges over and over from a repeated motion.
The motion being his hand, buried between your thighs.
"Want you to..." Steve's voice breathes in your ear, that rasp in it that clues you in to how turned on he is. How keyed up he is. His forearm nudges at your thigh, pressing it outwards. "Want you to keep 'em spread for me, baby."
You swallow a gasp as his thumb passes over your clit teasingly. You nod against the pillow and your thighs part further without even thinking about it.
"That's it," Steve coos. This close, you can feel the curl of his smile against your neck. He's practically purring when he says, "That's my girl."
You're spreading yourself for him, your drooling cunt on display for him to play with, and the thought only fuels the dribbling, burning hot feeling in your gut. A whimpery noise pulls from your throat.
Steve kisses the skin of your neck generously, slow languid kisses that make your nipples peak against the sheets. A scrape of teeth. Heat burns between the shared skin.
Long, thick fingers draw circles at your entrance and you can't help how your back arches to push down onto them, a stuttering gasp escaping you. He's been teasing you for too damn long tonight.
"S-Steve."
His name has never sounded so filthy.
"Mm? What is it, baby?"
He's still circling your entrance tantalizingly, his thumb dancing over your clit so perfectly, so teasingly. Asshole. Teasing, stupidly hot, too-good-with-his-fingers asshole.
"Please," Is all you can manage, voice weak.
It's all you need for Steve give in, sinking his finger into your cunt and pulling simultaneous groans from both of you. You can feel the rumble of it against your spine. Your head tips back instinctively, your cunt fluttering in bliss.
Steve doesn't give you a moment to relax into it, another finger joining as he pumps them in. Lewd noises leak out as his fingers setting a punishing pace. They curl expertly, hitting the spot that makes your hole clench around him with every thrust of his fingers.
You clutch the sheets, your leg quivering and threatening to fall. A moan you can't contain pools in your chest and you bury your face in the pillow to muffle it.
Your hand shoots down to hold Steve's forearm — half to make sure he won't stop, half to keep yourself from falling apart too soon.
"God, look at you," Steve murmurs, his voice hot with praise.
All your whimpery noises, pressed into the pillow, going straight to his cock. It thickens in his boxers, straining against the fabric and Steve shivers in anticipation.
You can feel his trail of kisses up your neck but you know he’s watching the way your hips rock down onto his fingers. A fiery desire licks up your spine at the hardness you feel behind you. You feel yourself grow slicker at the feel of it, your mouth almost watering.
Steve's hips rolls up against yours roughly, no doubt eager to gain the same pleasure you were getting. His quiet grunts mix with your whiny breathes, pleasure burning and bubbling hotter and hotter.
Then a filthy moan scrapes out his throat when you clench down around his fingers — which disappear between your legs in a moment.
You barely get a moment to pout, a soft whine sounding, before you hear the fabric of his boxers being pushed down. It's frantic sounding, like he can't wait another second, like he needs to be buried inside you. You need it just as bad. You whine again.
"Sh, sh, sh, sh," Steve soothes, all too aware of your every noise. His needy baby. "I know, I got you."
His hand finds the bend in your knee and he holds it for you, keeping you spread for him. His nose nuzzles along your neck, kissing and suckling as he finally, finally, sinks his cock into you in one slow stroke.
You keen. A pitiful cry escapes your lips, the coil in your tummy twisting tighter at the gravelly moan that Steve makes. His hot breath of your neck, his closeness, the stretch of him inside you — you quiver and whimper, your cunt gushing on his cock.
"Oh f-fuck, honey," There's that whiny hitch in Steve's words now, the way there always is when nears pussy drunk.
You can feel the urge to close your shaky legs with how you cunt throbs in pleasure but Steve's hand is still tucked under your knee, keeping them apart, as he starts to rock into you.
The lewd noises from before return, the wet sound of your slick as Steve ruts into you. His hips move fast, his pace building.
A ragged moan drools from your lips and you push your head back instinctively, searching for more Steve. He's there already, his kisses resuming up your neck feverishly, his thrusts not faltering.
"Ste— Stevie," You gasp needily, letting one of your hands slip over your waist to hold him however you can. Your fingers find his bicep and you clutch it, breathy noises punched out with every roll of his hips. Steve groans loudly.
"God, you feel so fuckin' good around me," He pants, thick cock driving into you steadily enough to make you melt. He drops his hold on your leg for a moment, his hand darting up to your face. He pushes back the hair in your face, his lips kissing the exposed skin as he does.
"My pretty fuckin' girl," He hums, voice wavering in his own pleasure.
Your thighs start to ease close without thinking and Steve snakes his hand down, slapping lightly at your clit with his large hand. It makes you squeal, your legs jumping apart and your hole clenching down on his cock deliciously. Steve moans again, a thread of a whine in it.
"Told you," He huffs breathlessly, lips dragging up the sensitive skin of your neck. He nips at your ear. You whimper. "To keep 'em spread for me. You can- you can do that f'me, can't you?"
It's a trick question because there's no way you can answer anything right now. Steve's thrusts slow for a moment, as if he's giving you a moment's reprieve, only for you to realise it's for a more sinister reason all together.
He shifts forward and lets his hand find its place under your knee again, holding your legs apart, and this time when he fucks back in, your whole body twitches.
You make a pitiful noise, something between a moan and a gasp. And then you make it again and again, as Steve drives his cock into your cunt, hitting the spot every single time.
"Oh, there she is." Steve coos. "Is that it, yeah? That spot feel good, honey?"
It would nearly be embarrassing, the little uh, uh, uh's you keep making, if it didn't feel so fucking good. You thought you were on fire before but now you're molten. Your skin blazes. Pleasure twists the coil in your gut tighter. You clench down on Steve's cock and gush at the whimpery noise he makes.
"I- ngh, shit—" He's panting now, beginning to become undone at the silky feel of you wrapped around him. "I asked -ah- you a question, baby."
You wail softly into the pillow, head curling in. Your head swims in delirious pleasure, the question he asked a minute ago long gone. You whine at his cruelty, your mind utterly distracted by the filthy squelchy noises he's fucking out of you.
"B-Baby can't think right now?" Steve teases, his thrusts turning shallow but faster. He hikes your leg up higher, pulled back towards his hairy thigh. "Getting fucked too good, huh?"
"Uh huh," Your voice comes out all whiny, the words drooling out your mouth. Your cheek brushes the pillow as you reply, eyes screwing up as the tightness in your stomach looms closer, hotter, nearly bursting. You grip his bicep tighter.
"Pleasepleaseplease, don't- don't stop, baby, I'm— I'm," The words rush out of you in a frantic babble. "Please, fuck- I'm, uh,"
A moan warbles out of Steve at your pleading, feeling his balls draw up as his own orgasm creeps up on him. He dutifully listens to his baby, still fucking himself into you with a lustful fervor.
"Gonna cum?" He grunts. You whine.
"I wanna see you cum," Steve rasps, his tummy flexing as he tries to hold back his mounting pleasure. "C'mon, baby, cum all over my cock, yeah? Show me how good it is."
His hand slips from your beneath your knee once more, sliding down to pat at your clit and it's all it takes. You unravel. The heat in your bloodstream gives way to pure euphoria, confetti pumping through your body as you gasp and moan. Your cunt clenches and flutters, throbbing in just the right way.
Steve's hips stutter, the sudden snugness of you pushing him over the edge. It's everything to hear the little inhale he does; the whimper he makes as his cock twitches inside you, dribbling hot ropes of cum.
He keeps moving, milking out every dreg of pleasure for the both of you. Your hand on his arm shifts, moving up, searching for his face and when you tangle your hands in his hair, it's to turn and kiss him. It's sloppy, your lips barely aligned. Still, it hums with love.
The kiss breaks. Slowly, the pleasure and his movements taper off, til Steve's easing himself out of you. A warm buzz sits over the room, satisfaction rolling off the both of you in waves. You feel faint, a sluggish happy feeling settling into your skin.
"Mm, you okay?" Steve's voice sounds from behind you.
You're still snuggled close together, Steve dropping his head into the crook of your neck to nuzzle into it. You huff a happy laugh, reaching a hand up to bury it into his hair like you know he loves.
"More than okay." You sigh happily. Steve's responding hum vibrates against your shoulder. "You just fucked my brains out, baby."
Steve makes a little noise, a half-hearted snort. He kisses the curve of your shoulder again. "Just doin' my job."
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so-starz · 4 months
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˗ˏˋ⭒ things that make their heart flutter ⭒´ˎ˗
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genre ? fluff reactions/headcanons , cw ? mentions of insecurities
bf!riize x gn!reader
⋆ note: first post! check pinned :3 might do little drabbles on some of these
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将太郎⭒SHOTARO
[initiating hugs]
☆ shotaro’s love language is definitely physical touch
☆ so when you hug him from behind to surprise him
☆ or pull him into your arms in bed
☆ or bury your face in his chest as you squeeze him
☆ he feels like his life is complete
☆ adores when you run and jump into his arms after a long day
☆ just the feeling of being in your hold is enough for him
☆ he always makes sure to hug you back 10x tighter too
☆ (and no, he is never letting you go now)
은석⭒EUNSEOK
[dressing up for him]
☆ he thinks you always look pretty, no matter what you wear
☆ but when you dress up really nicely for dates, or to show off some new clothes you bought
☆ oh my god he loves it
☆ makes sure to compliment you every 3 seconds
☆ “you look beautiful”
☆ “that sweater looks so nice on you”
☆ fixes your jacket for you, smooths out your skirt
☆ silently admiring you the entire time
☆ you are his angel and he can’t believe he was lucky enough to be chosen by you
성찬⭒SUNGCHAN
[public skinship]
☆ sungchan loves to make sure everyone knows that he is yours and you are his
☆ like Yes you are taken and Yes he will bark at anyone who dares to think otherwise
☆ he always has a hand on your back, an arm wrapped around your waist or over your shoulders, etc
☆ but when you do it to him? he literally does a happy dance on the inside
☆ when you grab his hand and lace your fingers together
☆ or link your arm with his
☆ or hug his middle while waiting in line
☆ you are his Baby okay
☆ he thinks its so cute when you show him off to others
☆ it always puts the biggest smile on his face
원빈⭒WONBIN
[praise/compliments]
☆ you always have a knack for telling when wonbin gets in his head
☆ when his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, or when he’s even quieter than usual
☆ so you make sure to shower him in compliments and praise whenever you can
☆ telling him how hard he’s working and how good he is at what he does
☆ commenting on how pretty his eyes are, or how you like his new shirt
☆ you can see the stress leave his body when you praise him
☆ sometimes your reassurance is all he needs
☆ especially when he’s feeling insecure, he immediately searches for comfort in you
☆ because you always know just what to say
승한⭒SEUNGHAN
[random kisses]
☆ there’s nothing seunghan loves more than when you kiss him
☆ he’ll just be scrolling on his phone and you stop to kiss him on the forehead before going about your day
☆ or you could be in the middle of a conversation and then you randomly peck him on the lips
☆ it makes him smile so hard
☆ he could be having the worst day ever, but at least he knows he’ll be able to get a kiss from you later
☆ please cup his face kiss his cheeks when you see him
☆ if you kiss his neck while cuddling, he’ll literally melt in your arms
소희⭒SOHEE
[whispering in his ear]
☆ cuddles with sohee is a mandatory step in your nighttime routine
☆ and the atmosphere is always so soft and peaceful
☆ you always whisper an “i love you” into his ear
☆ or if you’re quietly talking about your day in your soft sleepy voice
☆ and he kind of dies inside everytime
☆ like his heart actually stops in his chest
☆ your voice is so beautiful to him, and when you whisper??? even better
☆ you make him feel so safe and he loves how vulnerable you can be around him
찬영⭒ANTON
[playing with his hair]
☆ it’s a subconscious habit you have, to mess with his hair, or twirl strands around your fingers
☆ and he falls for you all over again every time you do it
☆ when his hair falls into his eyes in the middle of a conversation and you reach up to brush his fringe to aside
☆ and if you make eye contact at the same time? 
☆ anton.exe has stopped working
☆ he stutters in the middle of his sentence
☆ you always make him so nervous
☆ you can see him trying not to smile when you begin to play with his hair if his head is in your lap
☆ he's so soft for you, it's crazy
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MASTERLIST
reblogs + feedback are greatly appreciated!
©️SO-STARZ
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shockedemojiatsv · 29 days
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▪︎■☆ Новое Mолоко 🐮🥛 ☆■▪︎
(Translation: New Milk)
☆ 🔞!!NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!🔞
☆ male! subtop! Francis Mosses / male! dombottom! Reader
☆ overstimulation if ya squint a lil, milking, breeding, dumbification, passing out, belly bulge (If your not into this, look away!! 👻👻)
☆ implied Russian speaking Francis (translated from google translate and research for needed accuracy, however, any form of critique or correction definetely is allowed!)
☆ short (I think???)
☆ author has played Not My Neighbor
°○☆nsfw under the cut☆○°
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You and Francis had a thing. And, fuck, for a minimum wage worker who barely gets any kind of rest at all, he's fucking good at what he does. He's a big fan of milking. Not his job, no, he could rant about how shitty it can be despite not wanting to get a new one (A/N: so real) but he's a fan of milking. Just the other kind of milking.
The first tim you two had sex, he was pretty sheepish about it, yeah. He didn't know if you prefered topping or bottoming so he settled for a handjob. You did the same as well. Until you both got used to each other and realized that he was pretty flexible. He'd do whatever you'd want to do, whatever you had in store, as long as if it wasn't too much for either of you. He loves fucking but he surely isn't a sex devient. Somewhere in the middle. Pliant to whatever you to had planned. But recently, he may or may not have discovered a new kink. Somethig that made his legs flex and his stamina increase and the gooey, warm, and fuzzy gears in his head grind back to life to keep on going. The last time you two had sex, there was now no condom, and he was pounding you into the bed that you swore Isaack would definetely send a formally written complain, persuasive enough for the both of you to not have such intense, hot, steamy sex for the next few months, (He's a reporter after all, have to respect the man informing the people, and he definetely has a way with words).
Humming, groaning, a little against your neck. You swore it was like a kitten, as if he was purring in a way. You pulled his hair as per usual and with a louder grunt his dark brown eyes roll up just a slight and flutter, closing shut as he fills you to the brim with his warm baby batter. Shaking, sweating, and biting his lip when he just keeps on cumming until theres nothing more to give. Or is there?
What he didn't expect, was when you suddenly whispered in the midst of him balls deep inside you,
"Thats it... good boy, you fuckin slut... Cum in me, keep milkin' yourself f'me"
Ah shit, he swore something inside of him just snapped loose. With the way he shivered violently, and as your hand loosened on his sweaty brown hair he moves again. Oh how odd, after a few rounds, the last one being penetration, he's always so tired, opting to give you a handjob or finger you if you didnt get a taste of your climax but shit. If this wasn't hot then what was?!
When you had basically degraded him to milk his balls dry you didn't mean literally, but fuck. This was so appealing, that your little milk boy had his quirks.
You look down at yourself seeing the bulge appearing on your abdoment everytime he thrusts in and god does it make you feel dizzy. Your hard dick, leaking as well just begging to cum while Francis gasps and shudders a little more, oh he looks so dumb. Trying to do as he's told. To keep milking himself. Milking himself for you. Just for motherfucking you. It keeps fuzzy sparks inside of his brain that has him smiling and drooling against your chest.
"Awe, what an adorable little cow you are... Milking your-...yourself for me... Giving me every ounce of that sweet sweet milk of yours, hmm? You wanna give me your milk Francis? You wanna fucking cum in me again?"
He feels so lightheaded that he smiles dumbly at the idea and nods as if his head is too heavy, full of warm cream. Muttering several words in russian mixed in with english as he nods slowly, trembling as his cock, still hard and moving perfectly against every spot inside of you.
"Please please please К-Куколка please... fuck fuckk- let me cum... inside... inside... cum inside please please milk me- oh... П-Пожалуйста... З-...Золотце... Пожалуйста..."
The pathetic, brown haired man sobs. Pawing at your sides like an injured little puppy. Begging so prettily, who could deny those eyes of his? all teary and tired. Small blobs of salty water dripping down his eyebags which were now disappearing, thanks to yourself for keeping his sleep schedule normal again after years of nap malnutrition.
After a few more moments of Francis groaning so softly against your ear, you feel yourself about to cum too, and when you order it directly, he really does come undone. Panting like a dog in heat while nails dig against his back skin. All the while he buries himself deep inside of you once again and fills you up with a second load of his fluids that it's practically drooling out of your hole. You hiss as well, shutting your eyes with a shudder as your dick spurts out a thick white rope of cum, coating Francis' stomach and your chest. Fuck.
Francis pants, collapsing on you. You gently push him to the side and just watch him catch his breath. Eyes closed, skin warm and sweaty while he's still inside you. All soft. But its not uncomfortable. At least now, you definetely know how you can abuse this new found information with your lovely boyfriend.
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perlelune · 16 days
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Oblivion | Paul Atreides
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There used to be beginnings and ends, nights and days, dream and reality, before the haze took over, swallowing every thought, every memory, every whisper of free will.
Warnings: NON-CON, Fremen Reader, Kynes!Reader, Mind Control, Memory Manipulation, Padishah Emperor Paul, Loss of Identity, Brainwashing, Mentions of war and religious fanaticism
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
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Muad’Dib leads the way. 
It is what the prophecy dictates. That he is the voice from the Outer World. The one who will lead your people to paradise. The one who will turn Dune’s arid desert lands into bountiful, endless green fields. 
But as your eyes rest on him, you do not see the chosen one. You do not see the Lisan Al-Ghaib. You see your friend Paul, broken, lost, his heart shattered into a million pieces due to your cousin’s absence. 
He sits at the head of his bed, shadows fluttering across his delicate features from the glowglobes’ dull orange light. Wide black rings surround his sunken blue eyes, the result of his daily consumption of spice melange. Lank, greasy brown curls hang around his handsome face. A pang twists your chest. He hasn’t slept in days, has barely gotten a full night of replenishing sleep since she left on a maker’s back.
You cannot blame your cousin. Paul’s ascendency to the Golden Lion throne came at a cost. A hefty one. Promises were broken. Trust was destroyed. Only time will repair the damage that was done. Though you carry faith the two of them will find their way back to each other. 
You stir the spice-coffee in the pot, straining the shimmering dark powder before pouring some in a cup. A spicy cinnamon smell coats the cool night air. 
You rise and bring the cup to him.
“For you, Usul.”
A soft smile blooms on his lips as he takes a slow, weary sip.
“You make it so well,” he praises.
You glow at the compliment, returning his smile. Your grandmother used to show you and Chani how to blend coffee beans with spice and herbs. The knowledge never left you. Now, every time you feel troubled or upset, you make a fresh kettleful. A single sip of the familiar brew is enough to alleviate your frazzled nerves. Especially here, so far away from Sietch Tabr, between the strange stone walls of the Arrakeen Keep, you have craved little reminders of home more than ever before.
Fremen belong in the desert, not in peculiar tents made of marble and stone.
Paul’s brows crumple as he studies you. 
“You don’t have to take care of me,” he says.
“I can get another Fremen-”
His fingers latch around your wrist, desperation sizzling under his touch. 
“I prefer it to be you.” He sighs. A bone deep fatigue radiates from the sound. You halt in your tracks. You suppose you could stay a while longer. “Please, stay, your presence soothes me.”
You nod. “I’ll stay, Muad’Dib.”
Relief falls over his features. 
The doors suddenly open, the guards stepping aside to let Stilgar in. He bows to Paul.
“Lisan Al-Ghaib…”
Your friend’s mouth flattens into a thin line. 
“I told you to stop calling me that.”
Stilgar acquiesces. He will never stop addressing Paul with reverence and admiration. None of his followers believes in him more. At times, it scares you a little. While you share the same faith, the fervor with which every Fedaykin is willing to lay their swords in his name can be frightening. Sometimes you wonder if Chani was right. How much will it take to liberate your world? How much blood will require spilling? You’re not completely naive. No war was ever won without a few casualties. Still, part of you hopes the war will end soon and peaceful times will come.
“No sign of her?” Paul asks. 
A contrite expression tugs the older man’s face.
“Apologies, my liege. We scouted the Southern regions this time. We couldn’t find her. She knows the desert well. It is home to us Fremen. She will not be found…”
“...Unless she wants to be found,” you finish, grabbing the empty cup from Paul’s hands and placing it back on the table.
The faint embers of hope in Paul’s cobalt gaze flicker out. Your heart sinks, for both you and him. Though you do not wish to burden him, you miss your cousin too. Her practicality and common sense. Her strength. Without her, a piece of you is missing. A crucial one. Your mother died in childbirth and your father in battle, so both of you grew up together, close enough in age to share secrets and play together for most of your childhood. 
It was Chani who taught you how to summon a worm and ride upon its back for the first time. She is the sister tragic circumstances blessed you with.
Stilgar apologizes profusely once more before taking his leave.
As soon as he’s gone, Paul’s shoulders slump.
“She hates me.” 
You crouch beside him.
“She doesn’t hate you. She never could. She is your quiet in the storm, and you are hers. She will return when she is ready.”
A wry laugh escapes his lips. 
“I have Irulan, my beloved wife, who is likely plotting my demise as we speak. Qizarate missionaries pressing me to take action and purge the non-believers on Aldinor. I am surrounded by foes, everywhere I look.” That distant expression he gets whenever his visions haunt him touches his face. “Blades pointed at my neck at all times, waiting for a sign of weakness to strike.”
You grab his hand, reassuring him, “You also have friends, Usul, who believe in your cause.”
“Fanatics,” he corrects bitterly. 
Your chest swells with worry. You don’t like it when he questions himself as such. His cause is right. He freed Arrakis from the Harkonnen’s iron-fisted rule. He will bring peace to every world in the universe. It is written. It’s the only path forward.
“You are not alone.” His fingers squeeze around yours. Warmth rushes to your face, the realization that you’re awfully close to the Emperor striking you. You adjust the nezhoni scarf covering your hair and rise. “I shall let you rest, my Lord.”
“Stay, please.”
His tone is beseeching. Your gaze swings to the window. There, moon beams pierce through the colorful glass, scattering rainbow splashes of light across the floor. Vibrant stars pepper the dark sky, pearls lost in a sea of ink. It’s pitch black outside. You should be in your own room. Not his.
“Muad’Dib, it’s late…”
His grip on your hand tightens. When he speaks again, his tone is different. Disembodied. Powerful. Its tantalizing echo drips inside your head like honey. 
“Stay,” he mumbles. You plop down on the bed, your body moving on its own, driven by the strange, irresistible thrall of Paul’s voice.
“Usul…” 
He cups your cheeks. 
“Sleep beside me tonight.”
“I’m not her.”
“I don’t want you to be.”
“She should be with me and she isn’t. But you are.” His inflection becomes soft and inviting as he drinks you in. As if he were lumbering through the desert, parched and desperate, and you were a well overflowing with fresh water. “You are beautiful. I never noticed before.” He pauses, tracing your bottom lip. “Perhaps I should have.”
You blink, dazed. When did Paul’s face get so close to yours? You can outline each of his long lashes, the speckles of green lingering in his blue eyes. 
“Paul-”
His mouth grazes yours, his thumb stroking your cheeks. It only lasts a few seconds. The warm plushness of his lips on yours yanks you back to reality. You gasp and flinch back. When you recoil, his silky tone fills your ears once more.
“Don’t fight it. You love me, remember?”
A confused whisper slips through your lips. Two parts of your mind wrestle with Paul’s words. 
“I do?”
His eyes dive into yours.
“Of course, you do.”
“Of course I do,” you repeat, his tone nudging aside the doubts lurking inside your mind. 
A bright smile unfurls on his lips, his lids sagging to half-mast.
“It’s like you said before. You are my quiet in the storm and I am yours.”
Right. You uttered those very same words. How could you forget?
You are Paul’s quiet in the storm. He is yours.
His mouth covers yours. It moves slowly against your own. He explores your mouth as he cradles your face. His long lashes fall over his cheekbones as he loses himself in your taste. He hums against your lips, gentle fingers touching your face. You don’t move, eyes half-open as you let it happen. It’s foreign, the sensation of Paul’s lips on yours. Foreign and strange yet you can’t help but numbly accept it. 
Once he frees your lips, he rests his forehead against yours. 
“Come into my arms, my love,” he says.
You don’t resist as he pulls you into his embrace, nudging you onto the bed. Soft strands of Paul’s brown mane brush against your cheek as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your spice-coated scent. 
His arms circle your waist. Your back melds against his chest, the warmth of your bodies mingling through the thin layers of your clothes. 
“You smell so good,” he mutters. Your scarf shifts when he rubs his face against it. “Don’t ever leave me.”
When you don’t reply, his tone gets firmer. “Promise it.”
The words roll off your tongue easily.
“I won’t ever leave you, Paul.”
Tension leaks out of his tightly coiled muscles. 
“Good,” he says, drifting off to sleep quickly with you nestled in his snug embrace. 
You fall asleep too, no thoughts in your head, Paul’s soft snores lulling you into peaceful slumber. 
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You awake with a start, the stark unfamiliarity of the palatial chambers you find yourself in causing your pulse to soar. Your eyes dart about the room. Recognition hits you. These are the Emperor’s apartments.
Your eyes grow wide. You’re not supposed to be here. Panic sets in.
“W-What am I doing here?”
Paul’s quiet voice flows across your back.
“Calm down.”
“No. I shouldn’t be here…”
You start crawling off the bed but Paul’s fingers around your wrist impede your departure. 
He holds your face, vibrant blue eyes locking with yours. You find yourself incapable of looking away, ensnared by his unflinching focus.
“I said, Calm down.”
The alarms ringing inside your head fall quiet. You lean into Paul’s touch. What were you doing? What were you thinking? Every thought you attempt to grasp at evaporates in the heat of Muad’Dib’s stare. 
“There. Much better,” he coos, satisfaction hovering on his handsome face. His voice sinks into a sensual whisper. “Why don’t you kneel for me?”
You do as he instructs. Then all fades to black as quicksands of confusion engulf your thoughts. 
When you return to yourself, you aren’t on the bed anymore, but on your knees on the carpeted floor. 
Paul is looming over you, grunting, his throat bobbing. One of his hands is curled around your nape while the other is under your jaw. 
You note the saltiness coating your tongue, the drool on your chin, the soreness in the back of your throat. 
You choke on his length, air wavering inside your lungs. 
Paul’s cock is in your mouth. 
The sick, awful realization tumbles over you like a bag of stones. 
Muffled moans leave you as you lift pleading eyes towards him.
You place your hands on his thighs, shoving with all your strength. 
Paul doesn’t let you move. He cradles your face and thrusts inside your mouth until his balls are pressed into your chin. 
Clouds of lust obscure his gaze as it falls upon you. 
He caresses your face, dragging his cock out before pushing it inside your mouth again. Gurgled sounds leave your throat. Tears skip down your cheeks and you wonder when you’ve started crying. 
Fremen do not cry. Ever. Even for the dead. It is a rare, sacred act.
Paul wipes them off your face with his thumbs. 
“You love me. It is what lovers do,” he says matter-of-factly.
Your body relaxes. 
Right. Of course. You love him. It is what lovers do. 
You hollow your cheeks and suck him off. He unleashes a throaty sigh of delight as you pleasure him with your mouth. 
When his seed drips down your tongue, he coaxes you not to waste a single drop. You swallow all of it, showing no resistance when he nudges a stray drop between your wet lips. 
Several days in a row, you awake in the emperor’s chambers. At first, you experience great confusion. However, Paul’s soothing words always quell your rising panic. It becomes all you know. The Emperor’s mesmerizing voice. His large, soft bed. His ceaseless, ravenous touch. 
Sweaty, tangled limbs melting in lewd harmony.
You stop questioning it. Even the strange lapses of time when you are in one room and mysteriously wind up in another. It isn’t rare for you to wake up with the Emperor’s head bobbing between your thighs, greedily lapping at your folds, or with your hips grinding into his as he impales you on his cock. 
It is where you belong. And you believe him when he says that, mumbling loving promises into your ear in the dead of night.
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“If we do not strike fast and hard, they will not accept your rule,” Stilgar says. 
“They worship a false god. We are doing them a favor,” another man sitting at the table interjects. 
A shaky exhale flows from your tongue. You look around, dismay filling you when you realize you’re in Paul’s war room amidst a council meeting. Your head throbs. How did you get here?
You rise from your chair. Bemused gazes land on you. 
Princess Irulan snickers from her seat.
“Husband, your concubine is acting strange,” she sneers.
Concubine? You step away from the table.
You blink several times as you stumble outside. You grip your temples, your forehead scrunching. That cannot be right. Is it? 
You are no one’s concubine. 
You are…
You are…
Adrenaline pumps through your blood as your head buzzes. 
The answer will not come, your mind keeping it under firm lock and key.
Frustration mounts within you. You blindly waddle around.
You end up in a room that bears vague familiarity. You lean against a basin full of water. Water…just lying around. That seems strange.
Your eyes land on a mirror on the opposite wall. The reflection in the glass has your heart rate spiking. Who is this?
You bolt to your feet, the water in the basin splashing around your feet. 
Your tremulous fingers rise to your face, horror filling you when the woman in the mirror mimicks your exact motions. 
Your gaze travels across the wide, open space. Quick breaths rush from your throat. The Emperor’s room. Why did you think it was your room? 
You stagger backwards. You gasp as you bump into a solid form.
You whirl, eyes widening.
“Paul.”
He gauges you, slight concern etched in his blue eyes. Relief fills you as you soak in his boyish, slender features, much more familiar than those of the stranger in the mirror. 
You know Paul. Muad’Dib. Paul is familiar, safe. You trust him. He will tell you who you are.
“Yes, my love?”
“Paul, who am I?”
A displeased frown settles on his brow. He approaches you and grabs your face. His expression hardens.
“You are mine. Nothing else matters.”
“But Paul-”
Your protests are stifled by the feverish press of his lips on yours. A fog surrounds your thoughts as his kiss grows more passionate, his hands sweeping over your curves. You place your hand on his chest, pushing feebly.  
“Forget it. Forget it all, beloved,” he mumbles against your lips. You sag against him. You drown in Paul’s blue eyes, time stretching beyond eternity. 
When you gain a semblance of awareness, your naked form is writhing above Paul’s. Your palms are spread over his lithe muscles, your hips moving as he slams his cock into your cunt repetitively. Paul bites his lip, his gaze glued to the sight of his length disappearing between your wet folds. 
When did you get on the bed? When did you shed your clothes?
Every inquiry melts in the heat swirling across your damp flesh. 
Your lashes flutter as you unleash a broken whimper, Paul’s hard length touching you in places that send electricity rippling through your spine.
You tighten around him and he purrs. 
“Remember nothing but my name,” he rasps, clutching your hips possessively. He impales you on his length, thrusting faster. You choke on your breath, his quickening pace driving you wild.
You brace yourself on his chest and lose yourself in the pleasure, your breath hitching each time he pounds into you.
The filthy sounds of your coupling fill the room, bouncing off the stone walls. Paul’s deep, animalistic moans. Your soft, desperate whimpers. The blunt, wet sounds your cunt makes as he buries himself inside you. The bed rattling and squeaking under your writhing forms.
“Paul, Paul…” you pant as you bounce on his cock. An intensity ignites his eyes as his name falls from your tongue like a prayer. You toss your head back, voice dying in your throat as another wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your toes flex. You tremble, your body jolting as your slick walls flutter around his length. A husky moan leaves him. He twitches inside you. His back lifts from the sheets, his body tensing as he hits his peak too. Slick warmth spills from his tip, glazing your walls. 
An errant sliver of panic lurks inside your brain. Your eyes bulge as you glance down at where your body and Paul’s are conjoined. Rapid breaths burst from your chest.
Seeming to sense your distress, he shoves your hips back down when you try to squirm away.
His authoritative voice booms across the room, unnatural, multiplied. Everywhere at once. 
“Do not move, beloved. Let me fill you up. Make you mine in every way.”
Your breaths settle down. Your worries disappear. You look into Paul’s loving gaze. A smile unfans on his lips as you ride him with abandon again.
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“What are you doing?”
You pivot at the abrupt sound of Paul’s voice. You pause above the bag you’re packing. You peer at him, mulling over an appropriate answer to his question. You do not find one. You only know that you stirred awake that morning, feeling strange, sore…Lost. The urge to collect your meager belongings and leave the Arrakeen Keep seared inside you since then. A hollow, distant voice rings inside your head.
Return to Sietch Tabr.
“I have to go. Something…Something isn’t feeling right.”
The muscles of Paul’s jaw flare, his tone as ice as he states, “You want to leave me.”
Discarding your bag, you rush to him. You take his hands in yours.
“No. I made you a promise. I just need time to think…I can’t think anymore, Paul.”
It’s true. Every day feels like trudging through a Coriolis storm, your thoughts scattering as dust in the wind the minute they form.
Everything that was solid before is now sand slipping through your fingers.
Paul’s gaze corrals yours.
“You don’t need to,” he says, gripping your face. His tone dips to a soft lilt that penetrates your senses. “Who are you?”
You search his eyes. A breeze blows away every single doubt you had.
The answer to every inquiry you had is right there. In Paul’s fond stare.
The persistent little voice in your head, that pesky plea begging to be heard suddenly falls quiet. The truth echoes in your head, Paul’s powerful voice filling your mind.
You are right where you belong. 
“I’m yours,” you utter with certainty.
His face softens. “That is correct, my love,” he says, stroking your cheek.
“Now, why don’t you settle down, beloved?” You let him escort you to the bed, coaxing you to take a seat on the sheets. “Agitating yourself as such isn’t good for you.”
He sinks to the floor and drops a gentle kiss over your round belly.
“And it’s not good for the baby either.”
940 notes · View notes
bluenotes75 · 11 months
Text
Trust
Miles Morales ! 42 x Fem ! Reader Synopsis : ''I messed up princesa, I messed up bad.'' wc : 1,6k Warnings : spoilder for atsv, angst, THEY ARE AROUND 19 YEARS OLD, possessiveness, this is angst but like good one, no proofread, what I could remember from my spanish class 3 years ago. pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.3
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You glanced at your phone for the hundredth time this minute.
Still no sign of life from Miles.
You were worried, more than you should as you had seen him for the last time the previous day. Yet, you were used to texting your boyfriend every day. It was now nighttime and he had not answered any of your messages. You scrutinized with a frown the last texts you had sent him. He had left you on read.
Miles never left you on read.
Well, he did but only for two reasons. First, when he was mad at you. Thus the first contradiction because the boy was rarely mad at you. Even if he was, he would always confront you directly and talk things out. He hated being on bad terms with you. Life was already rough without you by his side and he wouldn't let anything strip him of any quality time with his girl.
The other situation was is… street activities with his uncle. He used to disappear for days without telling you why, convincing you to not get concerned about him. However, after that one night when you yelled at him, crying, for worrying to death after he ghosted you for two days straight, he promise to always send a quick message to tell you when he would get really busy.
So as you sat on your bed, plunged in the darkness of your room, you knew that none of these cases applied to the current situation. You two hadn't fought and he hadn't told you anything about his prowler activities. Well, nothing that you knew of, which left you insanely troubled.
Your last words together were when he left for a party the previous night. You were supposed to go with him but dropped at the last minute because your mother felt sick. You preferred staying by her side, making sure she get better. At first, Morales wanted to stay with you and spend the night at yours, but you refused. You couldn't remember the last time he got to catch a breath and just enjoyed life like the young man he was. He was always either hanging out with you - making sure you were safe by the same occasion- or working with his uncle. So like the good girlfriend you were, you convinced him to go to the party without you. You just wanted him to have fun and even though he was reluctant, he couldn't say no to you.
Since then you had heard nothing from his side. It was already far in the night and you should be sleeping, but you couldn't close an eye.
At this point, you were contemplating directly calling his mother or even his friends. But you knew Miles despised you talking to other guys. Even if they were his own friends.
Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a bang on your window. You jumped at the sound and gawked when you catch sight of the boy tormenting your thoughts out of the corner of your eyes.
You hurried up and opened the window for him and he stumbled inside your room looking…awful. You could see the dark circles painted under his eyes and the frown settled on his forehead. Before you could say anything, he clenched his jaw and wrapped his arms around your waist, dragging your body to his. He pressed your bodies tightly against each other, leaving no room for anything else and the heat of your skin warmed the iciness of his.
You were left speechless as he leaned down and nestled his face on your chest. This sudden display of physical affection was unusual from your Miles. You were the one initiating the cuddles, the kisses, the hand-holding. So you couldn't help your heart from fluttering at this new attention. However, the feeling quickly vanished as you remembered the context. Your worry came back like a slap on your cheek.
“My love, what's going on ?” you broke the silence and wrapped your arms around his neck to hug him back, sensing that he needed it.
You received the silence treatment.
“Miles,” you frowned and leaned back to look at his face, only for him to stop you by tightening his arms around the low of your back.
“You haven't answered any of my texts since yesterday, what happened? Is it your uncle? You can talk to me. ”
He took a deep breath against your skin but still left you with no explanation, which made you upset.
“Miles, you can't just disappear for a whole day and come back as if it was nothing !”
“Lo siento Mami, I messed up,” his pained voice came out muffled by your shirt. You scowled at his words. ‘uh ?’
“What do you mean ?”
''m' so sorry. I messed up princesa. I messed up bad.''
You moved your hand to his hair to caress it and comfort him.
''What did you do ?''
''I-don't make me say it.''
Whatever he has done had to be really bad for him to be that panicked. You could definitely tell that it had been eating him all day.
''Tell me,''
''….I messed up last night, because of another girl.''
As soon as the words escaped his mouth, your hand froze in his hair. All the worries slipped out of your body as your blood ran cold. This couldn't be what you thought right?
''W-what ?''
''I kissed another girl.''
There it was.
Your hands fell to your side as your heart dropped. This was the last thing you could have ever imagined. You took a shaky breath trying to process the wave of emotions that invaded you, but your stare was already lost in the wall facing you.
Sensing your lack of reaction, Miles leaned back to look at you.
''You don't know how much I regret it-''
''Let go of me.''
The boy tensed in your arm at the unusual coldness of your voice.
“No mami, let me explain-”
“Let me go !” This time you yelled.
You thought back to all his possessiveness. Him not letting you talk to your guy friends. You thought back to these sleepless nights you spend worrying about this safety, just like tonight. To all these efforts you pulled to break the wall he build around him after the loss of his father.
All that for him to fumble and betray you in the end.
You felt your eyes water but you refused to cry in front of him. He couldn't see you weak. He couldn't see how much he had wounded you.
“Get out,”
“I won't, you can't end us.”
“What?'' You scoffed at his nerve. ''You ended us the moment you prioritized having fun over our relationship. Get out !”
Yet, he stayed still.
And that's all it took for you to lose it. He didn't have enough of betraying you, now he had to stay and insensitively watch you break down. He was a mess on the inside. He had never seen you this upset, and he loathed himself for being the cause of it.
“How could you do this to me !” Tears rolled down your cheeks.
There, you had failed to maintain your facade and Miles watched in horror as you fell apart in front of him. Through your blurry sight, you didn't notice that he was also crying. He stood there, towering over you, eaten up by remorse. He was supposed to protect you. He had accepted the prowler job to protect both you and his mother, but he had done the total opposite.
But he couldn't bear to lose you.
He let go of your waist and wrapped his fingers around your wrists to stop you. You tried to escape his hold but he was too strong.
“Querida, mirame por favor. I will make it up to you. I'll buy you everything you want. Tu eres mi mundo and you know-” he tried but you wouldn't hear anything.
“Who do you think I am? You can't buy me with money! Stop being selfish and leave !”
The boy tried to make eye contact with you but you looked sideways, taking deep breaths to calm down. You were overwhelmed with so many emotions that you didn't know what to feel anymore. However, you knew you couldn't bear to see him anymore.
For some reason, Miles seemed to catch the message as he finally let go of your hands and stepped back.
''I hope you can forgive me, mami.''
''Don't. I hate you. I wish I never met you.''
You spat those words purposely to hurt him. You didn't mean them at all. If anything, you still loved him as hard as before. Yet, when you noticed his hurt expression, it brought you a bit of consolation. It was tiny and it only lasted a second, but it was something.
You turned your back to him and eventually, you heard the window open and close behind you. Only then, you tumbled to your knees and let all of your tears fall, becoming a sobering mess in the silence of the room.
You had heard a lot about heartbreak. From your friends to your mother and even your aunt. What you didn't know was how aching it would be. Because even after he betrayed you, even after he made you feel like you weren't enough, you couldn't stop your heart from beating faster for Miles.
3K notes · View notes
chuluoyi · 7 months
Note
Could you do a brother’s best friend!Megumi x reader?
like her brother being overprotective, but being oblivious of his best friend’s crush on her sister?
(not the) best kept secret
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- fushiguro megumi x reader
cool, brooding and handsome. your crush on your brother's best friend is a secret you only keep to yourself. little do you know, he too feels the same. and so, your love story—and the trials and tribulations that come with it—begins.
genre/warnings: college au, reader being yuji's little sister and him and your family being protective, fluff, mutual pining, tiny weeny angst if you squint? with happy ending ofc!
notes: awww anon, this ask is so cute and so hidden love-coded! did you watch hidden love too? because this piece draws inspiration from that ehe. and uh it turned out longer than i expected and i haven't proofread it but pls enjoy!
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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You have had a crush on your brother’s best friend, Megumi, for a while now.
Actually, scratch that. For a long time now, since you were in middle school, in fact.
In your eyes, he was really cool. He was reserved and not very talkative, which was a stark contrast to your brother Yuji, who could talk a mile a minute every day. It always baffled you why the two could be bosom friends.
And he treated you well. Megumi may have bonked Yuji’s head at any given chance, but with you, he was different. He was gentler, kinder, and overall just considerate. Sometimes he would even pick you up in your brother’s place, and your heart would beat out of your chest from sheer giddiness.
Little did you know, he too didn’t quite see you as a mere sister of his friend.
It started with head pats. You heart would flutter and he would be more conscious of his actions. Yuji had furrowed an righteous eyebrow at the sight.
“Oi, Fushiguro, that’s some favoritism there!” he whined. “I helped you with homework and what did I get—”
“Shut up, Itadori.”
And then the text messages. You didn’t know how or why you ended up texting him on daily basis. He was the one who texted you first a few months ago, having obtained your number from a mutual friend in your circle to ask about the best gift for Yuji’s birthday. And somehow up until now, you found yourselves telling him how your day went, and he the same.
you: i've just finished my class today. so tired megumi: oh? mine is still in session. quite boring you: i see. well, ganbatte!
Those little interactions made your day, and for now, you were quite satisfied with them. But when your phone buzzed once again, signaling a new text, you couldn't resist the urge to swiftly open the messaging app to expect the expected.
megumi: wanna grab lunch later?
It was so incredibly childish, but you felt like winning.
Lunch invitations were often. You spent the whole duration of lunch with him almost every day at this point. The two of you talked about many mundane things, and he would have this small smile whenever you griped about your hard tests or annoying classmates.
Head pats. Texts. Lunches.
And then there was Nobara.
Now, don't get me wrong. You adored her—she was a fun person, pretty and you even looked up to her as your role model at some point. If Yuji somehow ended up with her, you were sure to give them 200% of your blessings.
But seeing her with Megumi was another story. Sometimes you envied your brother's close knit group of three. They had been friends since middle school, and it was granted that Nobara would spend a whole load of time with both your brother and Megumi. With Yuji, she was harsher and didn't take him seriously, but you couldn't deny what your peers had been whispering and what you yourself found very plausible—she and Megumi would make a fine match.
It wasn't your intention at all, but ever since you saw him and Nobara at the toy shop together, pulling for popular merchandises in gacha box, you started losing confidence in yourself and inadvertently put this distance between you and him.
At first it was subtle, Megumi didn't even realize it. But when your replies were few and far in between, he decided it was time to address the problem.
"You don't answer my texts," he stated one day, barely catching you at campus during the lunchtime. Now that he thought about it, you kept denying his lunch invitations too. "Are you avoiding me?"
"I, um," you stuttered. You didn't anticipate running into him, to be honest, and so you were at loss of words. "It isn't like that..."
Megumi figured that he had done something to make you feel like you should avoid him, but he didn't want the two of you to be in this awkward situation any longer, so he led you away from the crowd to your usual place of hanging out after lunch—the rooftop.
"Have I done something?" he asked warily. "It's okay, you can tell me."
"No, Megumi, I—"
"I don't want us to be like—this," Megumi said, his face contorting with a deep frown. "I don't like it at all."
Typically, he regarded friendships as a pain, but not with you. Not with the girl he had been pining over for who knows how long now.
Yuji's sister. He had to remind himself of that fact so many times and yet his heart didn't seem to get it. You were his best friend's dearest sister, and yet he fell for you regardless. If Yuji knew, he would definitely had some opinions on this.
And so for the last few months, he kept it hidden under his sleeves. He approached you, befriended you, took you out on lunch dates—acting on his growing feelings for you and yet he didn't have the courage to confess still.
But enough was enough. If not confessing meant losing you altogether, then he was willing to take the risk. At the very least, if you did reject him, he would have gone down with a fight.
"Y/N, I don't know if you're already aware of this or not, but..." he gulped. Apparently this wasn't as easy as he thought, especially when you met his gaze with your cutely confused ones.
"I have feelings for you. I... like you, quite much."
His voice was clear, without any hint of doubt. You were taken aback and widened your eyes out of surprise.
"You do...?" you shyly asked him back, finding it hard to believe. Fushiguro Megumi, the boy you've been crushing on since you were 15, when you were only able to hide behind Yuji and saw him from afar. The boy who once was indifferent to you, was now confessing his feelings for you? He liked you back in the same way you liked him?
"I do," he replied with clarity, and then a smile. That small smile that always made your insides do somersaults. "I want to ask you out for a while now, but since well... you know... out of consideration for your brother, I felt like I couldn't simply whisk you away."
To his surprise, you laughed, and Megumi found himself breathless. The way you laugh was so mesmerizing in his eyes, reminding him why he could fall in love with you in the first place.
"I like you too, Megumi."
And that was all he needed. Apparently that confirmation was enough to forget that you were the sister of his long-time friend, and that it was fine even if you were. After all, since when was it a crime to romance your best friend's sister?
Still, you two decided to keep it under the wraps first. Springing this on Yuji would startle him, you reasoned, and he agreed. It was more convenient this way anyways.
Your relationship with Megumi was a happy one. He was curt, but never failed to look out for you. He remembered things you liked, and would take you out on places you wanted to go. Arguments were there—granted, sometimes he was just too stubborn, so you may have a clash of opinions—but in the end, the two of you always managed to work it out.
But there was always something melancholic in Megumi that you weren't sure you could touch at all. Perhaps it was due to his upbringing—his incomplete family. You tried to fill that gap, giving him many fun and happy memories, hoping it would replace his sad ones. He was grateful for that.
Nonetheless, the reality persisted that your brother, Yuji, remained completely oblivious to all of this. Yuji still thought that you were his innocent younger sister, and Megumi was his best bro. Sometimes you felt bad to do all this behind his back, and yet you made no move to rectify it.
“Hey, let’s ask Fushiguro to join too!” Yuji would say, and you would agree. And then, in front of him, you and Megumi would refrain from being too friendly, and he would be none the wiser.
All things have karma. You have built your karma too, for deceiving your kind and sweet brother.
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"Fushiguro! How could you?!"
When Yuji's fist collided with his jaw, honestly Megumi had given up on fighting back, because one, there was no chance of winning against him, and two, your scream pierced the air, filled with worry for him.
You two just had to be found out in the worst way possible—while making out. It was wrong in so many levels in the first place. Why and how did you even initiate making out in your house that you shared with your brother?
"It could've been anyone," Yuji fumed with anger, his teeth clenching. "Anyone at all! And yet it has to be Y/N—my own sister! Fushiguro, have you ever considered the magnitude of betrayal this is to me?"
"Yuji! Please stop!" you tried to intervene. "He's not at wrong—it was me who—"
"No, you don't get any say in this!" for the first time, you saw your kind brother got angry and it made you quiver in fear. Yuji had never been angry, not to you. "You too, Y/N. How could do this behind my back? The least you could do is telling me!"
"I'm an adult!" you stressed, now irritated at this display of protectiveness from him. "I can date whoever I want and you can't just punch the man who happens to be my boyfriend!"
Honestly, if asked, Yuji wasn’t like 100% against your relationship with Megumi. He and Megumi practically grew up together, he knew the best and worst parts of him, and overall he still considered him decent.
But what made it hurt was that the two of you decided to leave him out. It made him doubt everything he knew about his best friend. How could he trust his sister to someone he found hard to trust?
He turned to Megumi, who was still slumped on the floors of his garage. “No. If he really likes you that much, then he will willingly accept this.”
Megumi understood, if his own sister was dating… let’s say, someone like Gojo, whom he trusted but not at the same time, he too would definitely beat the crap out of him.
And so he willingly endured all the blows. Yuji had to let off steam, and this pain was worth everything if it meant he would give his blessing for you.
Yuji was taken aback that his friend actually let him do this. When Megumi got thrown one last time and almost passed out, Yuji finally decided that it was the end.
His best friend and his sister… it was almost laughable if he didn’t feel like the biggest fool between the two of you.
He saw how you immediately sauntered towards him with tears in your eyes, muttering several apologies. Yuji wanted to snort, but then Megumi took a hold of your hand that was on his bruised cheek, and smiled, saying that it was okay.
And despite himself, his heart felt warm. Seeing the usual gruff and cold Megumi be this… soft with you seemed to open his eyes to something more.
Looking back, he could’ve had realized it when Megumi started to get touchy with you. He completely missed that the head pats were actually his subtle way of expressing his fondness for you.
Yuji decided to leave you be. At least he had made his point across, and he hated to say it outright, but perhaps, it was okay after all for you to be with him.
Okay didn’t mean you two had obtained his full blessing, though. But another event soon changed his perspective.
“Itadori,” Megumi’s ragged breaths was what he registered first through the sudden phone call. “Please come here—Y/N—she was—”
It was Yuji’s first time to witness pure panic from Megumi. He proceeded to tell him how you had been in pain and then collapsed, and that he had brought you to the hospital.
When Yuji arrived at the hospital, he once again saw how restless his friend was over your wellbeing. He could no longer deny it—the sight moved him.
“Hey, you awake?” Megumi’s face was the first you saw when you awoke at the hospital bed. He looked so concerned, a frown creased deep in his face. “Are you not in pain anymore?”
No, not quite much anymore, you wanted to say, but your throat felt so dry and you only managed to shake your head lightly.
“That’s good,” he let out a relieved sigh, and that was when you notice your brother at the corner of the room, looking at you two with a somewhat exasperated expression, but then he smiled.
Who knew a severe case of appendicitis would lead to Yuji giving his complete approval for you to date his best friend, huh?
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But life is nothing if not full of obstacles. The next obstacle you faced after Yuji’s finding out was your parents.
“Look Y/N, we know. Megumi is a good guy,” you mother started. “We've known him for a long time, of course, personality-wise, we have nothing against him.”
You bit your lower lip in frustration. Beside you at the dinner table, Yuji kept his silence, but listened attentively too.
“It’s just… the matters of his family,” your father added, carefully choosing his words.
“His father is never in the picture, is he? And there are also rather unsettling news about him too.” Your mother was always the one being more straightforward.
Both you and Yuji knew it already. As of now, Megumi only had his stepsister, and last you heard, his father was gambling somewhere and then became a convict. Megumi said he had cut ties with him, but there was no such thing as an ex-father. Until forevermore, Fushiguro Toji, a criminal, was his biological father.
“Mom, I know your concern,” Yuji had finally decided to step up, and you were grateful for that. “Fushiguro won’t end up—”
“Yes, we know,” your mother emphasized, letting out a sigh. “But we are your parents, Yuji, Y/N. If there’s even the slightest chance, we worry. We want the best for you. Always.”
You were at a loss.
You were young, and yet you already saw him in your distant future. Being with Megumi felt so right and comfortable. He was your safe space as you were his.
But you also understood where your parents’ concerns came from, or at least tried to. At least until you found out how your father approached Megumi to talk him into thinking your relationship over.
"How could you, Dad?" you asked, aghast. "You're... practically intimidating him into breaking up with me!"
"Y/N, listen—I never meant it like that," your father tried to explain himself, and yet you were already too heartbroken to hear him, and so you shut the door to your room, not giving him any chance.
Why did your relationship suddenly become everyone's business? Why couldn't they just let you be an adult?
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Megumi could still hear your father's words rang in his ears.
"Y/N... we raised her with love and care," your father said with a forlorn expression. By all means, Megumi knew that he meant well. "She's always spoiled, my only daughter... Megumi-kun, you must understand, it's not easy for us too."
He knew that his rather colorful past would get in the way one way or another, and he had come to accept it. But it still stung, because of course, he wanted full blessings from the family of the girl he fell in love with.
You were like a ray of sunshine in his dreary life. Like Yuji, your presence had made an impact on him. Your cute smiles, pouts and vulnerability around him... he loved them all.
He would get upset when you looked sad, just as you were now.
"It's really okay... Y/N." He swiftly wiped your tears with his thumb, as you sniffled. "I didn't take it to heart. Your father is just worried about you... I can understand that."
"But still—h-he shouldn't do that," you replied amidst your small sobs. Above all, you didn't want your father to have spooked him. "Megumi... I don't want to break up with you."
And honestly he didn't expect that. You were afraid of him... leaving you?
He, who did everything he could, just to have you to be by his side?
"Sir, I know where you are coming from. As of now, I don't have much. But I can say this with confidence—I... love your daughter very much, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that she is happy."
"Stupid," he huffed, putting a hand on your head, before messing up your hair. And gosh, you were so cute, glaring at him through your lashes.
"I won't. I've told your father that too actually."
"Just give me two years," Megumi added with unwavering voice, staring at your father earnestly. "After graduation, I'm getting my life in order. I'll secure a stable job and do my best. I'm... going to prove it to you, and you can be the judge if I can finally deserve Y/N or not."
He was 16 when he knew you, seeing you as nothing but a little girl too timid to approach him. And he was 19 when he realized that you were everything he wanted in a girl of his dreams.
At one point in his life, Megumi thought it was okay to be alone. But ever since getting to know you, he realized that loving and being loved by you were the greatest happiness of existence.
"Thank you," he muttered afterwards, as you were still starstruck that he apparently had the balls to declare something like that before your father.
"Thank you for giving me so much love. Because of you, I realized that I too deserve to be loved."
You could feel tears glassing your eyes once again. “You are. I’m glad that you finally think so.”
And that was it—your love story. Something that had started when you were 15, and ended ten years later when you were 25, with swearing your love for each other in front of the sacred altar before your closest family and friends, and Megumi by your side.
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Text
Jealousy, Jealousy... | Part 2
A/N: don't even have a summary for this. oc is in love with gyu and gyu is in love with another girl but both are virgin losers and gyu is a horndog who would let oc do what she wants to him just as long as he gets to cum.
Word count: 6.3
Genre: Smut, angst
Warnings: fem!reader, dry humping, degradation, dom!reader, sub!beomgyu, fleshlights, beomgyu being a perv and using oc's panties
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You step into the apartment, hoping against hope that you won’t find Beomgyu in there. It’s been a few days since your fight, and you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder–ignoring his text messages, giving him one-word replies whenever he speaks to you, pretending you’re too busy to continue the marathon of whatever stupid show you were currently watching–and every time you do that, he’d look so heartbroken you have to fight for your life to not forgive him then and there. 
But fate hates you, or maybe it was by Beomgyu’s design, because as soon as you step into the living room, you see Beomgyu on the couch, fiddling with his guitar. He looks up when he hears you enter.  
You try to make a run for it, sight set on your bedroom door, but Beomgyu quickly springs up and calls your name. “Wait! I wanna talk to you.” 
“Well, I don't wanna talk to you.” You mutter, bee-lining towards your room, but Beomgyu is quicker. It only takes him a couple of large steps to put himself between you and your bedroom door. 
“Please!” He begs. “Just talk to me.” 
“I don’t want to talk right now.” You try to push past him but he won’t budge. 
“No, please, listen. I’m sorry for kissing you. I was just… I never got an A before. I didn’t think I could get an A. You know me. You know how everyone thinks that I’m so stupid. I know you think that I’m stupid. It just meant a lot to me. I was so excited to show you that I’m not always such a dumbass.” 
You sigh. "I know you're not a dumbass." 
“But I am. I’m such a dumbass and I’m so sorry for kissing you but please don’t leave me.” 
“Leave you?” You stare at him incredulously. “Beommie, I’m not going to leave you. What makes you think I would?”
“Well you haven’t been talking to me. I thought you were done with me.” He says glumly and you laugh. “No, silly. I was just giving you the silent treatment. Never heard of it?” 
"So we’re still friends?" He asks hopefully, tears in his eyes, looking like a kicked puppy. 
"Of course, we are. Don't be silly." You reach out to run a hand through his hair, and he happily leans into your touch. "Okay. Promise me we'll never stop being friends. I can't lose you."
You hesitate. This is why he can’t know you’re in love with him. It would ruin you. "I promise." . 
“Good.” He gives a big sigh of relief before he throws you a mischievous grin. “Are you going to come see me practice for the big gig today? I need my groupie.”
You smack his shoulder. “I’m not your groupie.” 
“You can be. Maybe we can sneak off and mess around backstage.” He pulls you by the hips and rests his forehead against yours but doesn't attempt to kiss you. 
"Beommie… I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why?” He whines like a brat, “I won’t try to kiss you again, I promise. I'll be your good boy." 
God, the things those simple words do to you. You could never have imagined the man you’ve thirsted after for years acting so needy for you, but you can’t let this go on any longer. It fucking killed you to have him kiss you, knowing it didn’t mean the same to him as it did to you. If you keep this up, you’ll only open yourself up for more hurt. You have to protect yourself. 
"I just don't want us to get mad at each other again."
"We won't." He tries to reassure you, but you put a hand to his chest and push him away. "No, gyu. It was fun but we can’t do this anymore.” 
He grabs your hand in his and brings it to his lips to press a kiss against your palm, making your heart flutter. "Then what's going to motivate me to do good?"
"Ice cream?" You suggest, taking your hand away, and he groans. “What’s rock and roll about that?” 
You snort. “Your band name is tomorrow by together. There is nothing rock and roll about you guys.”
“Okay, ouch. Groupie invitation revoked.” 
__________________
Watching Beomgyu play his guitar is like watching magic happen. Even when he messes up or is struggling–the way he’s just so immersed and serious about his craft is so inspiring and you feel so lucky to be able to witness it. 
It was a moment like this–seeing him so lost in the music–when you first realized you’re in love with him. And now, a few years later, that love has only grown stronger. 
“He really is an idiot.” You hear a familiar voice next to you and look to the side to see Yeonjun also looking at Beomgyu. 
“What do you mean?” 
“If I had a girl look at me the way you’re looking at him, I would never let her go.” He says so casually as if he hadn’t just exposed your entire guts out to the world. 
“What–-why would you–I–” You sputter, getting even more flustered at the amused look on his face. Damn him. You take a moment to recollect yourself. “Don’t be silly, Yeonjun. We’re just friends.” 
“Are you? Then how come you won’t go out with me?”
You roll your eyes. “Have you ever considered that you just might not be my type?” 
He raises an eyebrow at you, looking at you like he doesn’t believe it for a second. “Oh, please, I’m everyone’s type. What, you don’t like tall, handsome men? Lead singers? Really talented lovers?”
You suppress the blush his last comment intended to entice in you. “I already told you. I can’t go out with a guy who will flirt more with his fans than me.” 
“Aw, are you jealous, baby? You know I can clean my act up for you.” He moves to get closer to you, his hand reaching out to wrap around you, when suddenly Beomgyu steps in between you two. “Leave her alone, Yeonjun.”
“Why? She likes it.” Yeonjun grins, sending you a wink, and you stick your tongue out at him, making him laugh. Yeonjun tries to reach out to mess up your hair in revenge, but Beomgyu intercepts him. 
“No, she doesn’t. Now, leave.” 
“Alright. Alright. Chill. I’ll leave for now but if you’re not gonna snatch her up then don’t blame me for trying.” He sends you a wink, making you blush. “See you later, doll.” 
You bite your lip, staring at the ground to try to get your blush under control. You don’t like Yeonjun like that. Well, at least not near as much as you like Beomgyu, but you still can’t help the effect he has on you. He’s just so charming, and if you hadn’t been so absolutely in love with Beomgyu, you would’ve definitely been under him long ago. 
“You really shouldn’t encourage him.” Beomgyu says irritably, “You know he’s a manwhore.”
You shrug. “I know but it’s still nice to have a man’s attention.”
“Hey, you have my attention.” He protests, and you stay silent, giving him a cryptic look. 
“What?” He narrows his eyes at you, and you shake your head, dispelling any stupid thoughts of confessing your undying love for him. “Nothing. It’s just not the same. You’re my best friend. He could be something more.” 
“Oh.” Beomgyu steps back, frowning. “Um…okay. I understand that, but do you really need it from Yeonjun? I just… he’s my bandmate, you know?”
“I know.” You say, even though you really don’t. Why should that matter? “But he’s sweet and charming–”
Beomgyu groans, cutting you off. “Please. Anyone but Yeonjun.” 
“Beomgyu—”
“Please.” 
You roll your eyes. “Fine.”
You don’t know why it matters so much to him but you honestly don’t care. It’s not like you have your eyes on Yeonjun or anyone else but Beomgyu. You’re hopeless anyway. 
__________________
You and Beomgyu have easily settled back into your old routine, pre-hooking up. Like right now,  you’re cuddled up on his bed watching a movie as if nothing had ever happened–as if you’ve never touched him–as if just the feeling of his body wrapped around yours isn’t scorching your skin. 
“I can’t believe we’re watching this stupid movie again.” You groan, shoveling popcorn into your mouth. 
“Hey! I’ll have you know that Top Gun is one of the greatest pieces of cinema ever made.” He defends his favorite movie fiercely. 
“The greatest bore ever made you mean.” You grumble and he kicks your leg. “Shut up. I don’t insult your stupid horror movies when you make me watch them.” 
“You just did!” You retort, and he scoffs. “Well they’re stupid.” 
“Whatever. We’re watching The Shining after this.” 
“No we’re not!” He protests heatedly, and you answer back just as passionately. “Why not? We agreed we would watch one movie horribly picked by you, and another very superiorly picked by me.” 
He looks down at his hands, mumbling quietly. “You know those twins freak me out. I won’t be able to sleep for a week if we watch that.” 
“Aw, Beommie.” You coo, propping a finger under his chin to make him look up at you. “Well tough luck, wuss. We’re watching it.” 
“I hate you.” He whines, burying his face into your neck. 
Yup, all back to normal. You don’t want to cry because just the light brush of his breath against your skin sends your nervous system into overdrive. Nope. You’re all good. Just two friends watching a terrible movie. 
_______________________________
For a guy who just said he’s so afraid of The Shining, he won’t be able to sleep, he sure is sleeping very soundly right now. 
You glare down at him. He made you sit all through that stupid movie and he’s knocked out half-way through yours. You’d wake him up and give him a severe talking to if you weren’t so incredibly, wonderfully comfortable right now. You feel so warm and toasty with his long body wrapped around you like this, and the view you have–his face resting against your chest so close you can count his eyelashes… it was heaven for you. You suppose you’ll let him sleep for a bit more. 
Maybe you should get some shut-eye too. You’ve been so tired staying up all night studying for the test you took earlier this morning that you can’t help dozing off yourself, his embrace more comfortable than a bed of clouds to you. 
You were feeling so fucking peaceful, the weight of sleep helping to push down all your negative feelings that you don’t even pay much attention to Beomgyu’s repeated movements at first, just chalking them up to him shifting around to try to get comfortable like you. 
Sure, it was taking longer than was reasonable and he was pressing himself closer and closer to you each time, but it’s not like you were going to complain. The closer to Beomgyu, the better, right? It’s only when you feel something hard pushing up against your thigh that you realize what exactly is happening. 
"Beommie, what are you doing?" You mutter sleepily. 
He goes rigid and it takes him a while to respond. "...nothing."
You would have let it go if you didn’t still feel his hard cock against you. “Oh, really?” You challenge, moving your thigh up against him, ripping a deep groan from his throat. “Then what is this?” 
“Okay, okay, I really missed you.” He groans, wrapping his entire body around you. “And you just felt too good against me.” 
You scoff. “Have you no self control?” You ask even as you move your thigh against his cock. 
“No.” He admits, full on humping you. “Just need you.” 
“Beomgyu…” You pretend to hesitate, not wanting to let him off the hook quite so easily, not wanting him to see how much you need him too.
“Please, baby.” He begs, voice even deeper with sleep and all husky. That was your undoing. 
“Fine. You can keep going, fuck me.” You ‘finally’ relent, but the spoiled brat isn’t content with that. He tries to pull your shorts down. “Can I actually fuck you?” 
“No! I meant you can fuck my thigh.” You clarify, silencing his emerging protests with your finger in his mouth. “It’s bad enough that I’m letting you hump me like a rabid dog. You don’t get more.” 
“But this is so humiliating.” He whines through your finger before burying his face against your shoulder as he continues to vigorously dry hump you, miming fucking you the best he can. 
"I've seen you hump your body pillow before– More times than I would have liked– This is an upgrade for you, you pervert."
"You're so mean." He whines again and you snort. "I'm helping get your virgin ass off. How am I mean?"
“You’re just so mean.” He cries, grinding fervently against you. 
“And you’ve gone brain-dead again.” You laugh, “Come on, baby. Just focus on getting off. You’re almost there aren’t you?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Then come on. I want to feel you cumming against my thigh. It would be really fucking sexy.” You drawl, pulling his head back so he can look at you. 
“Y-yeah?” 
“Yeah.” You trace a finger over his perfect lips, resisting the urge to kiss them. Fuck, now that you’ve had a taste, it’s like you’ve developed a craving to them. This is why you should have never let him kiss you. “You’re so pretty, wanna see you lose control.” 
“Okay–okay… if you want it.” He stares at you deeply, and you nod.  
“I really do.” You murmur, “Want you to cum all over yourself for me.” 
“You’re so fucking dirty.” He growls, pushing your legs open and pressing himself between your them so he’s humping your pussy instead of your thigh. 
“Hey! Bad boy!” You screech, stuttering when his cock brushes against your clit. Your hand goes out to grab him by the hair. “Bad b-boy.” 
“Please, please, don’t make me let go.” He pants, his hips driving into yours roughly. “I’m almost there. Gonna cum for you, pretty.” 
You hesitate at the nickname, loosening your grip. 
"No, pull my hair harder. I like it when you’re rough with me."
"Now who's the dirty one?" 
"I can't help it." He sucks in a sharp breath, "You drive me crazy." 
Well, that makes two of you.
"Fuck, Beommie." You gasp, pulling on his hair and making him lose it. The way his cock is grinding against your clit making you reach the edge yourself. If he keeps this up, you might actually…
"Oh god, yes, yes, fuck!' He shudders and can tell by the warmth soaking his pants and the way he presses his hips snug against yours that he had orgasmed. 
Oh well, so much for that. 
"Did… did you cum?" He asks once he had caught his breath a bit. 
"No." You admit awkwardly, a little breathless yourself, and he looks disappointed. "It's okay, I'll take care of it."
"But I wanna do it." He whines. “Let me.” 
"No, Beomgyu." You refuse to let him feel how wet you are right now. He can’t know how much you want him. You can’t let him touch you because if he did, you don’t know if you would ever get enough.
"Why not?” He huffs, annoyed. “Why don't you want me to touch you? Do you find me so repulsive?"
"Don't be ridiculous.” You grit out. How very Beomgyu to be this oblivious. “You’re very handsome.” 
"You clearly don't think so. Otherwise you wouldn't freak out every time I try to touch you." He snaps, “Listen, I know I’m no Yeonjun, but you don’t have to make me feel so hideous.” 
“This has nothing to do with Yeonjun or you, you ass.” You lie through your teeth. "I'm just not ready to let anyone touch me yet, okay? Unlike you I’m not just looking to get my rocks off. This actually means something to me.”
“So it’s okay to meaninglessly get someone off but it’s not okay to let them get you off too?” He calls you out on your flawed logic.
“Yes.” You double down anyway, and he opens his mouth to argue but you beat him to it, realizing you need to end this discussion before you say something stupid. “See? This is exactly why I didn’t want us to hook up again. Maybe we should–”
“No, no! Fine, I’ll back off.” He puts his hands up in the air, literally backing off. “I won’t try to touch you or kiss you or do anything to you anymore. Only you can do what you want.”
“Beomgyu–”
“Please! I really don’t want this to end. It feels good being with you.” He pleads. God, he has no idea what he’s doing to you. It’s unfair that he has this much effect on you and he doesn’t even know it. 
You really shouldn’t say yes. This is only going to end in disaster, if you say yes. 
“Fine.” 
____________
“I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m just going to go home.” Beomgyu exclaims, freaking out in his small dressing room. He and his band have been invited to play at one of the most popular spots in town. It’s a huge opportunity for them, and so naturally it comes with a great deal of pressure, which Beomgyu is definitely feeling. 
“No! You can’t!” You intercept him, holding onto him tightly so he won’t escape. “You’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for years! You can’t just go.” 
“But I am freaking out. I am going to make a fool of myself if I go on that stage. I know I will.” He cries, looking at you with pure panic in his eyes that is actually contagious. But you fight to keep in control of yourself. You have to be the rational one for him. 
“You are going to do great–”
“You don’t know that. They will hate me. They’re boo me. Oh, god, they’re going to throw things at me. I have to go. I have to–” 
You grab his face and kiss him, shutting him up, and even though this time you’re prepared for the kiss, the feel of his lips still takes you off guard. There is nothing in the world that could prepare you for the electricity you feel whenever your lips touch, and this time when you hold onto him, it’s to keep yourself from falling to the ground.
“You won’t.” You tell him once you bring yourself to pull away from the kiss. Or once you run out of oxygen that is. “You’re the most talented musician I know. I know you’re freaking out right now but once you’re out there, you’re going to put on the greatest show those people have ever seen. I know you will, because you’re that good!” 
“You kissed me.” He mumbles, confused. 
“Well, you wouldn’t shut up.” You mutter nervously. 
“Right.” He clears his throat, and it’s silent for a few seconds before he looks at you shyly. “You really think I’m the most talented musician, you know?” 
“I know you are.” You say truthfully. 
“Even more than Yeonjun?” He asks and you roll your eyes. “Even more than Yeonjun.”
He grins widely, triumphant. “Okay. I will go out there and show those fuckers how it’s done.” He says confidently, taking a step towards the stage before he quickly doubles back. “But before I go… another kiss for good luck?”
Oh god, you’re being put through hell and you have no one to blame but yourself. 
“Don’t get used to this.” You roll your eyes, pulling him into another kiss. 
_________________
Beomgyu does amazing. Maybe it’s the stage lights, maybe it’s the sway of the music, maybe it’s the energy of the crowd, maybe it’s how happy he looks up there–but you’ve never been so in love with him. And so proud, and so amazed, and so bewitched. 
And it seems everyone around you thinks the same. The crowd absolutely went wild for him and his band. They cheered loudly after every song. They hooted and clapped whenever one of the boys interacted with them. They enthusiastically answered their questions and followed their requests. It all went so well, you just know this gig has secured them many more in the future, and you like to think that you helped in your own way, by keeping the lead guitarist from running away before the concert. 
Said guitarist grabs you and hauls you off the ground in a suffocating hug as soon as he sees you backstage. “Did you see that? Did you hear how loudly they cheered for us?” 
“So loudly I think one of my eardrums has ruptured actually.” You laugh, making a show of pulling at your ear. “You guys did so amazing, Beommie! The band absolutely blew everyone away!”
“Who cares about the band? I rocked!” He shakes you excitedly. 
“Yes, you did.” You easily give in to him fishing for compliments. He deserves it. “You were the star of the show. I heard so many people around me–”
“Oh my god.” Beomgyu gasps, staring at something behind you. 
“What?”
“It’s Haeun.”
You look back to see the devil herself. “Oh.” 
“Beommie!” She greets him enthusiastically, coming over. Beommie? That’s your nickname for him. You’re the only one who calls him that!
“You did really well.” She enthuses, making him puff his chest out like a goddamn rooster. “Y-you l-liked it?” 
“Of course, I did. I always knew you’re so talented.” 
You can’t help the snort that escapes you, and they both look at you, Beomgyu mortified and Haeun unimpressed. “Sorry, something was stuck in my throat.” You mutter, wishing the ground would swallow you up right about now.  
“Anyways,” She rolls her eyes at you then pins him with a flirty look so thick you think you could actually suffocate on it “What I was saying is that you looked really good up there.”
He gulps, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She coos, stepping closer to him and running her hand down his arm through his sleeveless shirt until she reaches his hand and pulls it up, playing with his fingers. “You really know how to finger those strings, huh? I wonder if the guitar is the only thing you can play?”
Once again, you can’t keep in the noise of disgust that came from deep within you, but this time neither Beomgyu nor her pay any attention to you. 
“Uh—well—I–” He stutters dumbly. Typical.
“Why don’t you and the band come to the party I am hosting Friday? Maybe you can show me those moves up close?” She winks at him. 
“Hell y-yeah. I’ll be there.” He chokes out and she smiles widely. “Great. See you then.” She leans in to press a kiss to his cheek and you almost reach out to scratch her eyes out but you contain yourself. 
She gives you one last snobby look before throwing her hair back and walking off. Beomgyu stares after her, dazed. "Am I crazy or did she just flirt with me?" 
“Come on, Beomgyu, apes are more subtle than her.” You grumble, the fire of jealousy consuming your insides. “Anyways, you know she’s only doing this because you’re becoming successful, right? She always treated you as a loser before, never giving you the time of day, but now suddenly that you gain a shred of popularity, she starts liking you?" 
"Oh." He pauses for a second, and you reach out to pat his back, wishing to comfort him, when he breaks into a huge grin. “So what you’re saying is that I’m popular and she likes me? Awesome!” 
“Ugh.” You storm away, followed behind by a confused Beomgyu.
________________
“Since I did really well today, don’t I deserve a reward?” Beomgyu grabs you as soon as you’re back at your apartment, pulling you flush against him and trying to kiss you.
Now, you would have loved to give in. That kiss you shared earlier still tingles at your lips, but not after what he did. The nerve of him after slobbering all over another woman in front of you!
“Wait until the party, maybe she’ll give you your reward.” You push him away, disgusted at the thought of it. But Beomgyu continues proving to you why he easily wins the title of least aware person in the entire universe. “But I want my reward now.” 
“God, Beomgyu, you really know how to turn a girl on.” You growl, shoving him out of your way. “Go to sleep.” 
"What's your problem?" You hear him ask before you slam the door shut. 
You rip your clothes off–band merch you wore to support the idiot–and put on a long shirt. Which as soon as you settle under the covers, you discover actually belongs to him, his scent all over it and drowning you in unwanted feelings. 
You don’t care that she came on to him. You don’t care that she invited him to her party. You don’t care that he’ll probably go and she’ll make a move on him and he’ll fall deeper in love with her and she’ll have him all wrapped around her finger and–
Okay, you care. You care too much. You can’t handle the thought of it any longer, but you can’t reveal your real feelings. It will be the end of you. No, you have to bottle it all down. 
‘You can’t let it show.’ You think to yourself as you curl into a ball, shutting out the outside world and even your own memories, trying to just be claimed by sleep. 
But the world isn’t that fair, and through your curled form you can hear the sound of Beomgyu moaning out. You can’t quite hear what he’s saying but you’ve heard him enough times to know exactly what he’s doing. 
You bet he’s thinking of her. You bet he’s imagining fingering her. You can’t allow that. Not while you’re lying here breaking over him.
You throw the covers off you and storm to his room, bursting the door open. 
“Hey!” He cries out, trying to cover his junk. 
You roll your eyes. “It’s just me. No need to freak out.” 
“What are you doing here?”
“I heard you from my room.” You say plainly. “You weren't exactly subtle. Now let me see.”
“But I thought you–”
“Do you want it or not?”
He only hesitates for a second, the whore, before he throws the blanket away.  You roll your eyes, getting onto the bed and grabbing his dick, pumping it in your hand. He immediately flops back, relaxing into your touch. “Oh god, I needed this.”
"Yeah? Got all horny from the way everyone was eyeing you up? You know you really gave Yeonjun a run for his money with how slutty you were acting." You mutter bitterly. Yes, you enjoyed the show, but it wasn’t only Haeun eyeing him up. 
Beomgyu glares at you. "Can we not talk about him while you're fisting my cock?" 
“Whatever.” You brush him off, focused on something else right now. "So, thinking of fucking any of your new fans?"
“Hmmm.” He mumbles, and you can see from the way his eyes have gone all glazed that he’s not paying attention. “You. I really wanna fuck you.” He thrusts into your hand, whining. 
"You wish." 
"I really do." He breathes out, and your own breath stutters. Man, this is dangerous but you can’t stop. You speed up your movement, making Beomgyu wince. 
“Wait, dry, dry, hurts.” Beomgyu whines at the chafing feeling, and you almost feel bad for him if it weren’t for his next words. “Why don’t you put it in your mouth to get it wet?” 
You snort, seeing right through him. “You’re not slick, gyu.”
“But it really is dry.” He pouts, making a show of expressing his pain as you continue to jerk him off, and you sigh, removing your hand. “Where is your lube?” 
“In your mouth.” He replies like a smartass and you pin him down with a glare. “I can always stop, you know?”
“Okay, okay, it’s in the drawer.” He gives up, pointing to his bedside cabinet, and you quickly look away from his adorable pout, knowing if you look at it too long you’d just give him everything he wants. 
“What the fuck is this?” You pause in your tracks once you open up the drawer.
“What?” He asks, a confused look on his face that quickly turns to horror once he sees what you’ve fished out of the drawer. 
You hold up a fleshlight and a pair of panties silently, waiting for him to explain. Panties that you know too well, your own fucking panties in fact. 
“I can explain.”
“Yes, please. Explain to me how you’re such a massive pervert who steals his best friend’s panties so he can jerk off with them.” 
“You’re not just my best friend.” He protests lamely and your stupid heart swells up against your best efforts, only for him to smash it to pieces again. “We mess around and you get me so horny, I can't help but imagine what you'd feel like. But I know you don't want that so I had to get creative."
Well, it’s still a compliment, right? He’s jerking off with your panties, not hers. Then again, you’re his roommate and he has easier access to your underwear. 
You throw the items at him. “Show me what you do with them.”
"But I don't wanna… I want you." He whimpers, leaning towards you and trying to kiss you. 
"Tough luck.” You hiss, pushing him away. “I want to see." 
He groans, grabbing the lube and squirting a generous amount onto the toy before pushing it in with his fingers… in and out, in and out. 
Okay, that bitch may have had a point about his fingers. 
"Get to it already." You snap, mouth dry. 
"I'm just getting it ready, sheesh." He mutters, finally lining the toy up with his cock before moving it down his length. 
"Oh…" He sighs, head falling back as the toy takes his cock. 
"Feels good?" You whisper, and he nods, pulling the toy off with a wet sound, taking a second to catch his breath before pushing it down again. 
"God, you're pathetic." You mutter, more to yourself than to him. You're so fucking turned on right now, you’re sure you’re more wet than that fucking toy. "Fucking a plastic pussy because you can't get laid?"
"You wanna volunteer to f-fuck me instead?" He grits out but it sounds more like a moan with how much he's struggling to not succumb to the pleasure. 
“Is that what you think about when you're fucking yourself?" You ask and he hesitates, the toy slipping off his cock. 
God, his cock looked so good–so hard and glistening and thick. You wanna throw that stupid toy away and take him instead… but you can't. So you grab the hand he has holding the toy and make him move it to his cock again. 
He gasps as you push it back down. “Ah…y-yeah. Think about fucking you all the time.” 
It takes everything in you not to put your hand between your legs and rub yourself off right now. “And what do you do with the panties?” 
He freezes, a deep blush dusting his cheeks. “I don’t wanna say.” 
Now that just makes you want to know all the more. “You know I can always leave?” You threaten and he groans, his hips bucking into the toy. “Stop saying that. It’s not fair.” 
“Show me.” You insist and he whimpers, not looking at you as he grabs the panties with his free hand and pulls them towards his face, taking a whiff off them. 
“Oh my god, you freak.” You gasp, your thighs pressing together at the obscene sight. 
“No, please–”
“I didn't say you could stop.” You snap when he drops his hand and stops fucking his fleshlight. 
He whimpers, bringing the cloth back to his face, his tongue peeking out to lick against the fabric. 
“Fuck, you’re disgusting.” 
He whines again, shaking his head. “Just wanna taste you.” 
You cock your head to the side curiously. “You wanna taste me?”
“Uh-huh.” He nods dumbly, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head at the thought of it. Well, who are you to deny him something he wants this badly?
You put your hand down your shorts, nearly making him choke as he watches you rub your soaking pussy a little bit to coat your fingers before bringing them out and holding them for him to see. You spread your fingers apart, showing him the strings of arousal between them. “You want this?” 
He drops the panties and sticks his tongue out like a dog begging for a treat, his hips never ceasing their rutting into his toy, the sticky sound of his cock pushing in and out ringing against your ears.  “Please…please…” 
“Okay, quit drooling.” You mutter in disgust at the saliva falling onto the sheets below, and move your hand towards him. As soon as your fingers are within reach, he takes them fully into his touch, moaning out at the taste. 
He sucks them off, his tongue licking up any juices in between your fingers until there is none left. Then he pants, “More…sit on my face.” 
You pull your hand away, your pussy quivering at the thought but you don’t let it show. “No way. You don’t deserve it.” 
“Why not? I’ve been good. Haven’t I been good?” 
‘Not when you’re thirsting over her.’ You think to yourself bitterly. 
“Please.” 
“I said no.” You shut him down, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun of your own.  Finally giving into the temptation, you slip a hand into your shorts as you watch him continue to fuck his toy.
Beomgyu groans out loud. “Oh, come on. Now you’re just teasing me.” 
“How am I teasing you?” You grin, rubbing your clit as you watch him lose it over you. Yeah, this is why you continue to do this. This will be your undoing. 
“You know how much I wanna touch you. Just come on up and sit on my face.”
“No.” 
“Please. I can make you feel better than your fingers can. Just give me a chance.” 
“Oh please, you’re a virgin, Beomgyu. I know you have no experience. I’m better off fucking myself.” You laugh at him. 
“Yes, I do. Look at this.” He leans forward, pressing his fleshlight against the bed and fucking into it. 
“Is that how you imagine fucking me?” 
“Yeah–you always take it so well.” 
Fuck, he really knows how to get you going. 
You shake your head. “Well I’m not a plastic toy for you to hammer your dick into. I need to feel pleasure too.”
“Then teach me.” He cries out desperately. “You can make me do whatever you want. I won’t say no.” 
“Are you whoring yourself out to me?” 
“Yes. I’m your whore.” He agrees, his dick thrusting wildly into his toy, and you in turn pushing your fingers into yourself and matching his pace, pretending he’s fucking you. “Just please do something. I’m going to burst.” 
“But I want you to burst, baby.” You lean closer to him, brushing your nose against his. “I like how pathetic you look cumming on yourself or in a pocket pussy. You’re such a fucking loser.” 
He’s nearly gasping at this point. “Come on, please. Wouldn’t having my cock inside you feel so much better than your fingers? Just pin me down and use me the way you like. I don’t mind.” 
He’s driving you fucking crazy. You’re one second away from breaking. And maybe you would have, if he hadn’t kept talking. 
“Just need to feel a real pussy.” 
How does he always do this? He always ruins it for himself, always reminds you that you’re just a pair of tits and a warm pussy for him. Not who he really wants, just what’s available. 
You sigh heavily, taking your fingers away from your pussy. “I’m getting bored. If you don’t blow your load now, then you can do it by yourself.” 
“No, no. I can do it. I’m a good boy.”
“Yeah? Are you a good, pretty slut who cums on command?” You mock him, but he doesn’t care. He wants it too bad. 
“Yeah. Just–just give me a kiss.” He pleads, and seeing your face, he quickly adds. “Just a kiss and I’ll empty my balls out for you.” 
Well, it’s not like this would be the most egregious mistake you’ve ever made. You’ve already kissed him. Might as well get this over with and go back to your bed so you can wallow in how you’re nothing but a warm body to him. 
“Fine.” You press your lips against his and he immediately opens his mouth, his tongue licking your lips, trying to push inside. You let him, wrapping your lips around his tongue and sucking on it before brushing against it with your own tongue. Meanwhile, you sneak your hand between you, taking control of the fleshlight and pumping it rapidly over his sensitive cock, not even giving him a chance.
“Do it then. Now.” You demand, your lips still connected together with a thick string of saliva. “Oh god, oh my god, cumming, cumming baby.” 
He kisses you again, muffling the noises of his climax against your mouth, and you take every bit of it like you can never get enough. 
But eventually he pulls back, his high over and not needing you anymore. 
“God, that was crazy.” He says at last. 
“Yeah. Learned a lot about you and what you like to do behind closed doors.” You mutter, and his eyes widen. 
“Listen, it’s not–”
“It’s not what I think, I know. You’re just a pervert who needed some help getting off. I get it. But next time you take one of my panties, I’m breaking your arms.” 
____________________________
A/N: well I think there is one more chapter or at most two left of this series. kind of a short one. what are we thinking so far? always open to hear ideas. i just thought of an ending but i'd love to hear from you guys. maybe i'll be inspired
Taglist: @wonwooz1 @yaorzu-blog @allylikesdabee @rkivezzs @malieno @leviathanlee26 @yomomas-stuff @kurisaiyunobara @girlwholovekpop
this was just a provisional taglist as i don't usually do one. it's just a few people have specifically asked to be tagged so there you go
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saetoru · 1 year
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[ REACH ] SCARAMOUCHE.
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scaramouche is awkward the first time he lays beside you, rigid and hardly relaxed when his body slides under the covers—you’d almost think he doesn’t want to be near you if you didn’t know him any better. you keep a small distance between you both when you see the way he seems to stiffen the closer you get, whispering a soft goodnight before closing your eyes.
what you don’t seem to see, however, is the way his eyes wander to your figure every few seconds, lingering over your face and raking over your features. you don’t see the way his eyes soften when you curl into the sheets for warmth. you don’t see the way his hand reaches out as you sleep, a little shaky at first—hesitant. he brushes a finger against your cheek as if testing the waters—and then he retreats almost immediately.
because you look delicate like this, soft and fragile, too easy to disappear suddenly, like you were never there to begin with. he doesn’t think he should be here beside you—but then you crinkle your nose in your slumber, and despite his better judgement, he smiles a little at the sight. his fingers run over the swell of your cheeks and brush over the bridge of your nose, delicately tracing the skin as he maps your features.
it’s not until you nibble on his fingertip as he traces your bottom lip does he realize you’re now awake.
“what are you—”
“how romantic,” you tease, grinning cheekily as your eyes flutter open, “and here i almost thought you didn’t like me for a bit.”
“that’s because i don’t like you,” he grunts, pushing you away (though gently) as you scoot closer and wriggle your brows.
“if you wanted to cuddle, you could just ask,” you giggle, and he glares.
you’ve always been bold, far bolder than he should let you get away with—but you throw him the bright grin you always do, and somehow he finds himself softening the harsh edges, like the glass is rounded so he doesn’t cut you as you reach your hand out.
“i don’t,” he huffs, “now go to sleep.”
there’s a slight pout on his face—though, you don’t think he realizes as much, and pointing it out would only sour his mood more. so you smile to yourself, taking in the way his hand falls limply onto the mattress beside him.
if he craves to reach for you again, to feel the warmth of your skin press against the tips of his fingers one more time, he makes no indication of it. scaramouche never reaches first—he simply tolerates your back hugs and linked arms, let’s you follow him around and maybe even hold his hand if he’s in a good mood. there’s always a disgruntled protest, however weak it might be, but just like always, he never pulls away.
and something tells you he doesn’t want to—something about the way his expression breaks for a swift moment before it’s hardened again tells you that maybe he needs your touch more than you need his.
so you flick his forehead, make his brows furrow and his chest ache with that smile you shoot him, the same one that soothes over the cracks the world has left in him over the years and fills them until he’s whole. “i would be asleep, if someone didn’t wake me.”
he hates that you’re right—but more than anything, he hates how easily you trust him. he hates how easy it is for his harsh glares to go ignored, how easy it is not to care about his bitter words and cold resolve, how easy it is to give and give when you get nothing in return. and because you never seem to care just how hard it is to love someone like scaramouche, you wrap yourself around his arm, making him stiffen with a scowl.
“hey, get off,” he says—but even as he pokes your shoulder to make a point, he makes no moves to pull away. it tells you enough, you think, it tells you everything you need to know.
please don’t ever let go.
“are you sure you want that, kuni?” you hum, reaching to poke his cheek, “you sure seem to like touching me—”
“i’ve had enough,” he grunts, “you can go sleep in another bed.”
“this is my bed,” you snort.
you’re right again, which only makes him ten times more irritated, but maybe…maybe he’s also ten times more in love. he wonders for a moment—thinks whether or not someday he can really bring himself to admit it.
so for now, he doesn’t pull away—and he hopes that’s enough to make you keep reaching out.
“whatever,” he mutters, and almost too swiftly, as if he wills himself to do it before he can change his mind, his arm tugs you closer against his side, letting your head fall to his chest. “i’d say it’s ours now,” he says quietly.
you grin, reaching a hand out to grab his, squeezing gently as your fingers lace with his.
and when you whisper, “goodnight, kuni,” with a kiss to his chest, he doesn’t pull away.
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© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok
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i’m posting this and running away bc i hate it lmao bye
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