#it's either I eat nothing or I eat very little OR feel sick or for about a week or two a month pre-mother nature

[xxsabitoxx]

Breed | Kinktober

Satoru x AFAB Reader + Higher Up Suguru

Warnings: Mild dub-con, fucking with the intent of getting pregnant, creampies, pussy eating, voyeurism, drunk sex, use of pet name "princess", Satoru talking you through it, Satoru having a big ass cock ngl hehe, biting

A/N: Day 4... I got really carried away. Lordy lordy... enjoy

WORD COUNT: 6.2K

You swore you didn’t hear him right, your eyebrow cocking upwards as you opened your mouth to say something but Satoru beat you to it. “You want us to do what?” he sounded just as lost as you, face twisted in a grimace as he hoped his best friend would say it was nothing more than a sick joke. “I want the two of you to breed.” Suguru repeated with his easy going smile, eyes shifting between the two very concerned faces before him. 

Ever since becoming a higher up in the Jujutsu world, Suguru had started to change. 

“You… you’re joking, right?” You laughed a bit, eyes shifting to the white-haired man beside you to try and see how he was taking it. Sure enough, Satoru looked completely confused, blue eyes scanning his best friend’s face for some kind of inkling that this was all a prank. “I’m not joking, quite the contrary, I’m dead serious.” Still though, he was smiling, completely unphased. “Yeah, bull shit… I don’t know why you’d think it’s okay to make such a–”

“The higher ups and I have been discussing things. Since the two of you are undoubtedly the strongest of our generation, we want you two to produce children. We want to know if you’ll create sorcerers just as strong, if not stronger than the two of you.” You felt yourself stiffen, immediately off put that he had totally interrupted you to spout the most foul shit you’d ever heard. “We aren’t some fucking experiment.” Satoru stated blandly, arms coming up to splay across the back of the couch you two were sitting on. Suguru still seemed unphased. 

“I don’t see why you two wouldn’t accept the offer.” You gasped, feeling Satoru stiffen beside you as Suguru said such blatantly ignorant shit. “Why wouldn't we accept? We aren’t even a couple! Never mind the fact that you want him to breed me like I’m some bitch in heat?!” you practically screeched, still partially believing this was a sick joke. Suguru’s smile faltered a little now, a crack in his facade that sent a shiver straight down your spine. “You two would be wise to accept the offer. I’m giving you a choice. The rest of the higher ups would not.” 

“You’re not giving us a choice.” You immediately countered, mildly aware that Satoru’s arm was lowering a bit, as if to wrap around you protectively. “Oh but I am, dear y/n.” His hands clasped in front of him, that smile creeping back up his face as his eyes shut. You both shared a glance, eyes returning to Suguru as he exhaled and opened his eyes again. “Either the two of you fuck and let me watch, or the higher ups will sit in and watch you instead. I’m giving you the choice to do this comfortably or do this in front of many watching eyes.”

“I decline both options.” Satoru said with an air of annoyance, not willing to subject you to anything you didn’t want. “That is not an option, Satoru.” Suguru immediately countered, eyes shifting over to you. “Really what is the harm in this? You two can have some fun and then go on with your lives.” Suguru tried again, not grasping how this was a huge deal. “You want me to get her pregnant, Suguru. That is not something you can just move on from.” You remained quiet, still reeling from the fact that Suguru was dead serious. “Not only that but you are looking me dead in the eye and telling me this hypothetical child would be at the whim of the higher ups.”

Suguru knew how strongly Satoru felt about this matter, he had since their high school days. For the man across from you to be so blindly devoted to this inhumane experiment, he must have been brainwashed. “Suguru… did they threaten you or something?” Your voice was a little weaker now, Suguru may think the two of you only have two options, but you knew Satoru well enough to know a third. If it came down to life or death, Satoru would choose death. Not of you or himself, but of the hierarchy in the Jujutsu world. You were both strong enough to do it. 

“Not at all, dear y/n. I just think this would be highly beneficial for not only the two of you but the rest of the jujutsu society. The Gojo clan needs an heir, if you two were to produce a child, it would bind both the Y/L/N clan and Gojo clan together. It would be utterly unstoppable with the two of you at their heads, a perfect child to take the reins when that time comes…” Satoru made a fake gagging sound, lifting his blindfold with one finger to look at Suguru. “Don’t tell me you really believe all that bull shit they’ve been feeding you.” Suguru’s calm aura faded completely at that, smile dropping from his face as his eyes became cold. 

“Either we do it the easy way or the hard way. You fuck each other, or they’ll force it upon you. I, as your friend, implore you two to take the easy route. I mean really, even if she doesn’t get pregnant, at least you’ll have had a good time, no?” That clicked something in your mind, body straightening a bit as you mulled his words over in your mind. “I’m not going to fuck someone who isn’t willing, Suguru.” Satoru sounded completely uninterested now, letting the blindfold snap back into place as you sat up a little more. “Satoru…” you started, turning your body to face him. His head snapped in your direction, the tone of your voice was different. 

Knowing he could still see you with the blindfold on, you turned your body and pressed yourself a little closer. Carefully, you brought your lips to his ear, using one hand to hide your mouth so Suguru couldn’t read your lips. “Why don’t we just play along, Satoru?” You swallowed, face feeling a bit warm as you settled again so he could reply. Much to your surprise, he turned his body so he could lean and whisper against your ear. You half expected him to just blurt his answer out. You held your breath as Satoru’s breath ghosted your ear, large hand easily blocking his face from Suguru’s view. “I don’t want to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” 

You sigh, letting him move away so you can press your lips to his ear again. “I’m fine with it, we can have fun with each other, can’t we?” you pulled away, shrugging your shoulders to say the decision was his. Satoru huffed out a laugh, one arm still draped over the back of the couch as he used the other to pull at his blindfold again. “Suguru, name a time and a place. We’ll entertain your request.” Your heart skipped, trying to remain composed as Suguru gave the two of you a sly smirk. “I’m glad you’ve made the right choice, we have a few things to discuss before we decide those main factors I’m afraid.” Still, he seemed thrilled at the thought. 

“Then discuss them now, Suguru. If we are doing this, you need to act fast before we change our mind.” you appreciated that Satoru was now speaking for the both of you. It was giving you time to properly sort out your thoughts. “No need for such hostility, Satoru. I just want to figure out when the best time is for dear y/n. After all, she needs to be ovulating when you do this.” You stifled your shudder, you weren’t fond of being discussed like some dog that was about to be bred for his own personal gain. “I’m due to get my period in about two weeks time.” 

You were lying, your cycle had just passed. But you knew if you told him you were currently in your ovulation period, the sooner this could be done and over with. “Well would you look at that, I came to you at the right time.” Suguru smiled, clearly he had done a little research beforehand. Beside you, Satoru was visibly confused, clearly having no understanding of a woman’s cycle. Not that you really expected him to in the first place, but you had to admit it was a bit amusing. “If that is the case, Suguru. Why don’t we get this over with, here and now?” you drawled, falling back into the couch and subsequently, Satoru’s arm. 

“That works for me, does it work for you, Satoru?” You and Suguru were both looking at him now, a sigh leaving his plump lips before speaking. “Yeah, works for me.” Somewhere in the back of his mind he couldn’t quite believe you were willing to do this, especially after being so adamant about not wanting to. Something Suguru had said clearly convinced you, though he couldn’t be quite sure. “That settles it then, I’ll treat the two of you to drinks for accepting my offer.” You snorted, pushing yourself up and off the couch. “I expect a lot more than drinks, Suguru.” you patted your skirt, flattening any wrinkles that had formed while sitting. 

“Dinner and sweets!” Satoru added, standing to his full height and stretching dramatically. “What he said, Suguru. You owe us big time.” You crossed your arms, watching your long time friend look between the two of you before heaving a sigh. “Alright, fine. Dinner, drinks and sweets.” Satoru cheered triumphantly, slinging an arm over your shoulder as you headed out the door. “Only one drink for Satoru though, he’s a lightweight and needs to perform.” you couldn’t help but snicker, Satoru’s face turning a shade of red as he yelled at Suguru for saying such things. 

“It’s the truth and you know it, Satoru.” was all you managed, trying your best to keep up with the pace his lengthy legs set. “Who’s side are you on?!” he pulled you a little closer, nearly crushing you to his side. “I guess I should be on yours, shouldn’t I?” you teased, trying to ignore the new found flurry in your heart when you talked to him. But part of you couldn’t help but wonder, did he feel it too. Of course you would let your emotions start to toy with your mind, knowing full and well what would happen within a few hours time. 

—

“S-shit… oh fuck…” Satoru choked out, blindfold pushed back and sitting on his head like a headband. Your teeth were sinking into the junction between his neck and shoulder, making his hips jerk up against yours. Suguru had cut Satoru off after one drink, the white-hair man getting more than tipsy off of it because of his low tolerance. You, on the other hand, had been three drinks in when Suguru cut you off. Having a better tolerance than Satoru did not equate to you being any less sloppy. Suguru was quickly learning that, eyes wide as he watched the two of you make out on the couch within the hotel room he had rented for the night. 

You hadn’t even made it to the bed, your hands all over each other the moment he swiped the card and the door unlocked. Needless to say, Suguru didn’t think he would be in for such a ride. “E-easy! Fuck… y/n please!” Satoru whimpered, fingers digging into the flesh on your hips as you bit a little harder. You wanted to taste blood, desperate to leave a permanent mark on the man below you. Though, even in your intoxicated state you still had a heart. You eased up, lapping at the indents on his skin to try and soothe the damage. Satoru’s hips were restless, bucking into yours every few seconds. Each time your clothed cunt met his covered erection, a wave of molten heat spread through your already too hot body. 

Behind the two of you, Suguru was getting comfortable in the plush chair that sat in the corner of the room. He had only consumed one drink, a buzz settling under his skin but not impairing him enough to let you two have free reign. “Don’t you dare waste a drop of his cum, if you’re going to grind on each other like horny teenagers, at least strip.” You audibly whined, looking over your shoulder to glare at Suguru. Though it wasn’t threatening at all, you looked like a child trying to intimidate an adult. “You heard me.” was all Suguru responded with, his tone demeaning as your face flushed. Satoru took your distraction as the perfect opportunity

You gasped, body falling forward against his as his fingers dug into your thighs. Hauling you up, Satoru made quick work of tossing you on the queen size bed, the white sheets quickly crumpling as you fell onto it. “You heard him, strip.” Satoru’s voice was mocking, and yet he was quickly undoing the top half of his uniform. You rolled your eyes, clearly disgruntled by your dominance being stripped from you. But you couldn’t complain, your skin was prickling with sweat, your own uniform sticking to you uncomfortably. Your fingers fumbled a bit as you undid your top, shouldering it off after a moment with Satoru’s eyes glued to you. 

“You need help?” he breathed out, looking at the fabric of your bra hugging your breasts perfectly. “No, I’m fine…” always stubborn, you undid the button on your wrist and yanked your arm out, repeating the motion on your other arm with a little struggle. “Done yet?” Satoru’s knee sunk into the mattress, hands coming down to press into the linen as he waited for your “okay” to crawl on top of you. “Yeah, done.” you groaned, tossing the white button up at Suguru who managed to catch it. Maybe your reflexes really were slowing down from the booze. Satoru sighed, crawling fully onto the mattress and connecting his lips with yours. 

Your hands came up to wrap around the back of his neck, legs spreading to accommodate him as you slowly laid back. You had to groan into the kiss, Satoru’s teeth grazing your lower lip for entrance only made you feel more defiant. You were slightly pissed he had moved so fast, you hadn’t even gotten the change to admire his toned torso. Which was something you had been most looking forward to, you knew the man was built but he was always hiding it under his uniform or baggy clothing. One of Satoru’s hands was splayed by your head, supporting him so he didn’t crush you under his weight. The other hand was cupping your cheek, trying to coax your stubborn jaw open for him. Still, you were managing to resist. 

“Such a tease, y/n.” Suguru cooed from his spot, hand shamelessly adjusting his half-hard cock. Of course he’d enjoy this, how could he not? Satoru pulled away, gasping as you stared up at him. “She is, won’t open that pretty mouth for me… so cruel.” he whined, cheeks flushed pink as he dipped his head lower to return the favor you had paid him earlier. This time, it was your turn to gasp, fingers digging into the back of his neck since there was no hair to grab… curse him and his undercut. Satoru’s teeth were sinking into the same point on your body, making a mark that would match the already bruising bite you left behind on him. “F-fuck! Satoru!” 

Your eyes shut, the warm pain blooming on your neck was only making the throb between your legs worsen. “I didn’t think it was possible for someone to be a masochist and a sadist at the same time.” Suguru mused, watching your eyes open slowly, head turning to glare at him. Still, he only smirked, fist pressed into his cheek as his other hand now began palming himself. You looked away, skin vibrating with the realization that Suguru was also getting off on this. “Satoru… ease up!” you whined after a moment, the feeling nearly dizzying as he finally released the skin he had clamped down on. Perfect teeth indents were left behind, the slight swell of blood appearing in some of them. He swallowed, throat dry at the sight. 

“So pretty…” he murmured, head lowering to lap at the mark before trailing his lips up your neck and jaw. “Let me taste you this time, please?” you nodded, dazed as he slotted his lips over yours once more. You were a little easier on him now, mouth opening to accommodate his eager tongue. You shivered as you tasted the slight metallic blood mixing with the fruity cocktail he had consumed earlier. You were envious, he had managed to break your skin but you hadn’t been able to break his. No fair! Your fingers scratched at his skin the more you thought about it, pressing your head into the mattress to create a little distance so you could catch your breath.

“Please…” you gasped out, unsure of what you were asking him for. Yet, he seemed to understand perfectly. Satoru placed one last kiss to your slightly swollen lips before his head dipped lower. Carefully, he kissed down your neck to your chest, burying his face in your sternum, cradled by your breasts. “Can I take this off of you?” He asked even though he knew the answer was yes, still you nodded. Satoru’s hand slipped around your back, the other still supporting himself. You helped by rolling over a bit, allowing him to nimbly undo the clasp of your bra. He tugged it off of you, holding in a shaky breath as he admired your bare skin. Your nipples were pebbling under the cool air of the room, making your cheeks feel warm as Satoru clearly observed them. 

No words were spoken as his head lowered again, tongue running along the valley between your breasts before making the decision to go left. You tried to suppress your noises as his nose dragged along your skin, his tongue leaving a wet trail as he lapped around the pliant skin. He made a point to avoid your nipple, wanting to tease you until you were squirming. You sunk your teeth into the side of your cheek, not willing to give in so easily, still annoyed you were being dominated. “C’mon sweetheart, let me hear that pretty voice.” Satoru pulled away enough to speak, chlorine blue eyes shining even in the dim hotel light. You held his gaze for only a moment before looking away, lips wobbling as he returned to sucking bruises on your breast. 

A quiet, barely audible sigh left your lips, and that seemed to be enough for Satoru. A loud gasp slipped out of you as his lips wrapped around your nipple, tongue flicking across the sensitive bud before he sucked. It was a dizzying feeling, each movement sending a shockwave of pleasure straight down to your cunt. You wanted to feel him, every single inch, that realization tore a moan from your lips as your fingers moved from his neck to thread in his hair. “Satoru… I don’t want to be teased…” You could feel your panties sticking to your cunt as you squirmed, the feeling mildly uncomfortable until you found the right angle. If you moved just right, you could brush against his erection. 

This earned a low groan from Satoru, his teeth grazing your nipple in retaliation. Suguru was still watching, amused as the two of you toyed with one another. “Satoru please!” you cried out again as his teeth actually sunk into the tender flesh, making your eyes water as you tugged on his hair hard enough to pull his head away. The only issue was that he didn't let go, you tugging him away from your chest only caused him to pull at your nipple. A shrill cry left your lips this time, hands immediately letting his hair go as his head lowered to a more tolerable distance. You were panting, your heartbeat racing as Satoru’s free hand moved to cup your other breast. 

He was putting all of his weight on his knees, but that didn’t stop you from feeling the brunt of his weight. “Satoru…” you tried again as he finally let go of your nipple. Still, he didn’t answer you, slim fingers tugging on your other nipple as his eyes focused on yours. You looked completely fucked out already, pupils blown and eyelids heavy as you stared up at him. “Gonna fuck you real good, princess.” Your lips parted at the nickname, not expecting it to have such an effect on you. “Then get to it.” you whined, missing his warmth the moment he straightened. He was towering over you know, giving you a full shot of his muscular torso. 

“Can I take your skirt off?” he asked for your permission yet again, eyes shifting to where his blindfold sat by the pillows. It had slipped off his head when he took his uniform off, but he had the intention of using it for something else later on. “You can, please…” breathless, your hips lifted so he could hook his fingers in the waistband and tug them off of you. Satoru did just as you wanted, pulling your skirt and panties off in one go. You sighed in relief, not at all embarrassed this time when Satoru shamelessly admired your bare cunt. “Pretty.” It was more to himself than you, either way it made you whine. 

“I want to see you, Satoru.” You whined, arms reaching out to try and grab for his waistband. Your hands missed, making you burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to push yourself up. Satoru smirked, undoing his pants with leisure as he looked you over. “You were doing so good at hiding the fact you’re not sober.” He comments, watching you give up and flop back onto the bed with your legs spread around him. He had managed to get his pants off without making a fool of himself. As for his briefs, they were still hugging his hips, straining tightly as his hard-on pressed into the soft material. Behind you, Suguru was chuckling at Satoru’s comment. 

“Yeah, you’re just as bad as she is if you think she was hiding her intoxication.” Still, he was mildly impressed that Satoru had stripped as far as he had without falling over. “Hurry up and pull your cock out.” you groaned, tired of the men’s banter. There was a time and place and it wasn’t now, when your cunt was aching with the desire to be filled up. “Fuck…” Satoru hissed at your words, reaching down to push his briefs, ignoring the way Suguru groaned at your desperation. You swallowed the moment his cock sprang free, slapping up against his abdomen and nearly pulling the air from your lungs. He was big to say the least. Not only that, he was girthy, the kind of girth that would hurt no matter how prepared you were. 

“Damn…” was all you managed to croak, lip trembling a bit as he got his briefs off the rest of the way. Satoru smirked, your reaction stroking his ego in perfect time with his fist stroking his cock. You met his gaze, silently begging him to do something. Satoru took the initiative, grabbing under your knees and pushing you further up into the mattress. “Don’t work, I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt…” You wanted to ask what he was about to do, but your answer came seconds later as he lowered himself onto his stomach, half of his body hanging off the bed as he settled between your spread thighs. You tried to suppress the strangled noise that left your throat as Satoru’s nose dragged along your inner thighs, shamelessly inhaling the smell of your arousal. 

“S-satoru!” you squealed, hands coming up to cover your face as he groaned. “You smell so fucking good.” You whined, thighs twitching to close around his head but his hands managed to stop you before you could successfully do it. Your head tilted back, too embarrassed to look down at your body and see Satoru start kissing your inner thighs. Suguru watched with dilated pupils, adjusting himself yet again in order to properly monitor the two of you. If he gave into his desires, who knows what the two of you would do. So instead, he sunk his teeth into the side of his cheek and watched you diligently. “Satoru~” you whined as his tongue licked up your folds, not going any further, just covering them in the slick shine of his saliva. 

Your back arched off the mattress the moment his teeth sunk into the underside of your thigh, pain blossoming under the pressure and earning a shrill cry from your lips. It was so sudden that it was nearly dizzying, earning breathless whimpers as he lapped at the now bruising skin. “Sorry…” though you could tell he wasn’t “… you’re just so biteable.” You wanted to scold him but you were too lost in the sensation of his mouth returning to your cunt, letting them fall open for him with ease to give him the access he desired.  The first time Satoru’s tongue passed over your clit, you were certain stars were dotting your vision. He knew better than to poke and prod anywhere else, focusing every ounce of his attention on the pulsing bud below his tongue. 

You felt your thighs tremble, hands twisting in the sheets as you tried to suppress the surplus of whiny moans that slipped out of you. Satoru’s tongue was just as nimble as his fingers, swiping across the sensitive flesh in rapid succession before his lips wrapped around it. You tugged a little harder, the sheets going taut under your fingers as Satoru sucked on your clit just as he had with your nipple. “Fuck… oh fuck… please… just like that… suck it like t-that…” Somewhere in the back of your mind you were mortified for uttering such things, but you couldn’t help but notice the coil in your abdomen tightening with each syllable you spoke. 

It seemed to have a similar effect on Satoru, the man groaning audibly against your bare cunt as his teeth grazed the tender flesh. “S-satoru!” you stuttered out, stomach tightening as his teeth sent a bolt of electricity straight up your spine. The only give away that he heard you was the way his fingers dug into the soft skin of your thighs. You were already close, too overwhelmed by the sensations Satoru bestowed on you. Satoru could tell by the way your sticky arousal was coating his chin each time he grinded his own face into your cunt. He wanted to suffocate on you, dying by your pussy would easily be the best way to go. 

The thought made his hips buck into nothing, mind drowning in the thoughts of shoving his cock into you and doing just as he so boldly refused only a few hours earlier… pumping you full of his cum so you would bear his child. He wanted to utter the filthiest things to you but he knew if he paused for even a moment, that sweet relief you were clearly craving would fizzle away and you’d be back at square one. And at this point, anything that further delayed him delving into your warm cunt felt like pure torture. One of your hands managed to uncurl itself from the hotel sheets, reaching down to instead thread through Satoru’s silky soft white strands. 

You tugged, albeit a little harder than you probably intended, and smothered his face even harder into your cunt. Satoru audibly whimpered at the pain of your tugging, only sending your stomach into a summersault as your orgasm dangled dangerously in front of you. “Satoru please!” you wailed, head tossing back again to make contact with a clearly turned on Suguru. “Go on, Satoru, you heard her, make her cum.” he encouraged with a shaky voice, his tone a lot more wobbly than it had been all night. That made you moan even louder, knowing how visibly turned on he was by this whole thing… and to think you had been so against it at first. 

Satoru grumbled something but it was muffled by your cunt, sending vibrations straight through your core. It didn’t take much more than that, his tongue licking so eagerly at your clit had you spilling all over his face. Your ears ring with the force of your orgasm, Satoru’s touches turning light enough to work you through it without overstimulating you. As much as Satoru wanted to lap up every ounce of your release, he knew he needed you to be sloppy to be able to take him. So, reluctantly, after a few chaste kisses to your now puffy clit, he pulled away. “Do you need a break?” he spoke with a slight pant, face flushed and shiny from his own sweat and your arousal. 

“No… fuck no. Please, Satoru, I want you inside of me.” He couldn’t deny that request, judging by the groan Suguru let out, he wouldn’t deny it either. “Alright.. Fuck alright…” Satoru was getting back on the bed fully, grabbing your ankles and lifting them. You had no time to even squeal in protest before Satoru was folding you into a mating press. “Y-you haven’t even entered me yet…” you wheezed, your knees nearly touching your breasts as the over six foot man settled more of his weight onto you. “Shh don’t worry princess, this will be worth it.” any protest died on your lips, the nickname of his choosing made your body feel warm all over. 

Satoru got himself as comfortable as he could, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to truly settle until he pushed his way inside of you. Ever aware of his size, Satoru ran the slightly swollen head of his cock between your puffy folds, letting your arousal cover him. He held his breath, too enthralled by the way yours caught in your throat each time he bumped your clit. “It’ll hurt a bit at first but it’ll ease up pretty quick, okay?” His alcohol was wearing off but it was no match for his pussy drunk daze. Still, he was going to walk you through each thing he did, blue eyes sparkling with tender reassurance. You nodded, chewing on your lower lip as he positioned his head at your entrance. “Just relax, princess…” 

You nodded, inhaling deeply before slowly letting it out. Satoru timed your breathing with his movements, pressing into you as you exhaled. Your breathing stuttered just a bit as the bulbous head of his cock split you open, stretching you wide and making you flinch. Satoru stopped, whispering soft praises before he kept his hips moving. “It’ll be more uncomfortable if I just stay in place, let me bottom out.” You nodded, your hands holding onto the backs of your thighs as Satoru kept pushing his length into you. When he noticed tears starting to shine in your eyes, he cooed soft reassurance to you, ignoring how his cock was pulsating between your fluttering walls. “I’m almost all the way in, the worst part is almost over.” He smiled a bit, thumb brushing your knee where he held it. You couldn’t recall ever being with a man that had a dick this big. 

“Rub her clit, Satoru. That will help ease any of her discomfort.” Suguru chimed, hand blatantly palming his erection as he greedily observed. “Good thinking.” Satoru hummed, the hand he had been using to guide himself into you now moved to rub gentle circles on your clit. Stars exploded in your vision as the uncomfortable stretch turned into blinding pleasure. Your walls clamped down around him, earning a barely audible whimper between his endless praises. “Yo-you’re taking me so well, I’m sorry it’s so big… oh fuck you’re doing so good f’me princess.” Satoru whined, bottoming out as he tried to regain his bearing before fucking into you. It was nearly impossible to stay still, but the last thing he wanted was to hurt you in this way. He would later argue that the bite marks you bestowed on one another were different from this. 

“Are you okay?” He breathed out, looking at you with lidded eyes and parted lips, making your heart stutter in your chest as you nodded on autopilot. Satoru smiled, settling his body onto you better and really solidifying the mating press he had maneuvered you into. “I’m gonna start moving, princess. Just tell me if I get too rough…” his arms hooked under your knees, forcing your legs wider and further up as he found himself a good position to roll his hips into you. Your hands shakily reached up to rest on his shoulders, shivering as Satoru’s head came to bury in the crook of your neck. Even from Suguru’s perspective, he couldn’t tell where you started and Satoru ended, completely engulfed in one another as Satoru began to find his rhythm. 

Your hands quickly turned from resting to grabbing, breathless whines leaving your lips as Satoru’s cock dragged in and out of your already sensitive cunt. He felt heavy and warm despite being enveloped in your suffocating heat. You could feel the slight upward curve every time he passed over one particular spot, it wasn’t long before a slick squelch emitted from where your bodies connected. “Oh fuck… oh fuck…” Satoru whimpered against your neck, losing himself in the slipper embrace of your cunt. “So good.. Fuck you feel so good… you’re so wet…” he nearly sobbed into your neck, drunk off of your body as his hips relentlessly fucked into you. “Gonna fill you up so good, princess. Fuck so–so fucking good.” he continued to blabber, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as pleasure racked his body over and over. 

You were too far gone to respond to anything, loud moans falling from your lips as you tried to convey how he was making you feel. Each connection had Satoru’s balls slapping against your ass, earning a low whimper into the crook of your neck, right over where he had bitten you. “Make sure you tell me when you’re cumming, Satoru.” Suguru spoke in a slightly raised tone, between the noises you were both making and the noises your bodies made each time he slammed into you, Suguru needed to be sure he was heard. Satoru only lifted his head a bit to mumble a “sure”, vision blurry as he sloppily slotted his lips over yours. The kiss was nothing short of a mess, tongues and breathless pants colliding as drool seeped down the sides of your mouth. Your abdomen was tightening again, an orgasm prickling in your gut as Satoru’s pubic bone managed to rub your cunt with each messy thrust. 

“Gonna cum… ‘toru…” You slurred, this time your impending orgasm felt a little more relaxed,  a warmth spreading through you as Satoru hovered over you. He was studying your face intently, lips a pretty shade of pink and slightly swollen from your kisses. He was close too, but his ability to speak seemed to be robbed by the way your cunt clenched around him. No words could get past his lips, nevermind form in his brain. Satoru’s hips bucked into you a little harder, your whole body shaking with the force of his blows before finally, he was stuttering into you with a loud groan. Your own orgasm hit you shortly after, making your body quiver as Satoru spilled his seed into you. His hips were rocking still, fucking his load deep into your awaiting womb. “So… fuck take it all… take every last drop, Princess…” he had given up on making sense, half of his words stumbling over the other as you tried to remember how to breathe. 

The room finally fell silent, Satoru’s body was still mildly restless as his hips slowly grinded into you. “Well done, you two.” Suguru’s voice earned a groan from the two of you, in your post-orgasm haze, you had forgotten he was there. “You can relax for a few minutes but you’ll have to start round two soon… oh, and Satoru? Don’t you dare pull out of her, keep every drop inside.” Satoru’s body nearly collapsed on you fully at that. “Round two?” He rasped out, limbs feeling like pure jello. “Yes, round two. We have to be thorough. If this doesn't work, we’ll have to keep trying until it's successful.” Suguru was once again displaying a nonchalant behavior regarding the whole thing. “Fine by me.” you slurred out before Satoru could even complain, clarity hitting him like a freight train until you uttered your approval. 

If you were okay with it, then so was Satoru. He didn’t think he’d be able to give up a cunt like yours after tonight, whether it was part of Suguru’s breeding plan or not. “Alright then, whatever you want, you get.” Satoru murmured, lowering again to kiss you tenderly.

#kinktober 2023 #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo smut #satoru smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo #satoru #gojo x you #satoru x you #satoru x y/n

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Here are some German specific quirks I think König would have <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

(yes, I know he's Austrian, but the difference is really only that they talk funny and have better desserts)

♡ he HATES fans and air conditioning. Like I'm talking disdain from the deepest pits of hell kinda hate.

Ceiling fans and AC are not a thing here, and literally every German looks at it with a very disapproving look if there happens to be one somewhere.

König absolutely refuses to sleep with the fan or AC on, just open a window, Liebling!

He's so upset that he can't put the window "auf kipp" :( (pls Google it, it's so hard to explain lol) like he's crushed that he can't keep the windows "auf kipp" all day.

You have a ceiling fan? Nope, not anymore. That thing is getting taken down the minute you move in together. But if you insist on keeping it, he'll secretly cut the cable to the switch.

Everyone knows all they do is whirl around dust and make you sick! He's not having it.

König acts like artificial ventilation is his worst enemy (I agree with him) and he'd rather suffocate than turn on the goddamn AC.

♡ Sundays are strictly lazy/rest days. Nothing's open on Sundays here, so we're forced to relax and not run around like headless chickens trying to get things done.

He's absolutely baffled if you have plans to go somewhere on a Sunday. What do you mean you need to run errands? What do you mean you're going out? And if you want him to come along?? Yeah, no.

His brain stops working. After the many years he's been alive, not once has he gone somewhere on a Sunday that wasn't his Oma's house for Kaffee und Kuchen.

You're not going anywhere. Plans are canceled, and you better spend the day on the couch with him.

♡ König probably misses all the beautiful old architecture Vienna has to offer. You don't quite appreciate it as much when it's just there all the time, but now he wishes he could quietly people watch in the city center :(

In my mind he's a bit of a history nerd, so he probably frequented museums and castles, admiring the delicately sculpted ceilings and wondering how people lived back then.

He'd be most fascinated by the masonry work done on the outside of most buildings. I mean, that's stone, but it's so smooth and carefully crafted.

♡ there are some very weird sayings in German that you just can't translate because they don't make sense. König is sick of having to awkwardly try to explain what they mean after he's been caught muttering one under his breath, only to realize halfway through that he looks like a maniac.

German is a very literal language, and I think he misses speaking it. We have very specific words for some things and he probably struggles to talk in English sometimes purely because the words he wants to use just don't exist.

(I'm very upset they didn't give him an Austrian accent bc it's one of my favorites, but I can also confidently say that I think he wouldn't be taken seriously at all if he had one lmao)

♡ König goes on random ass walks sometimes. Where's he going? On a walk. No, like where is he going? HE'S GOING ON A WALK.

There's no destination, you just walk. No matter the weather. Ya walk until you feel like you've walked enough. (A very German experience and I hate it)

♡ dreams of his Oma's Kaiserschmarn (me too, König, me too.)

It's basically a giant pancake that you tear into little pieces (traditionally, it has raisins too, I think) and you eat with either cinnamon sugar or applesauce (or both) and you will drift up to heaven.

It's warm, it's fluffy, it's sweet;

It's perfect for a gloomy Friday afternoon spent with his Oma and Opa 🥺

(Can you tell that I'm projecting)

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

"Auf kipp" is a very specific window position where only the bottom two hinges stay attached so you can tilt the window towards you and a little crack is open so you can always have fresh air!

"Oma und Opa" grandma and grandpa, which he loves so much, undoubtedly.

"Kaffe und Kuchen" basically tea time. You get together and eat cake and have coffee! Mostly on the weekends :)

"Kaiserschmarn" what dreams are made of.

🩷

#bumblebeesfromvenus #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig #könig cod #könig call of duty #konig x reader #cod x reader #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #soap mactavish #soap x reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader

[etheries1015]

I had sort of a crack idea of what would the non-human twst boys do if their crush or s/o was allergic to them? Savanaclaw and Octonivelle with like the fur allergy and seafood allergy. Maybe diasomnia’s s/o has some sort of fairy allergy? Sorry if this is too silly for you to write, it’s alright if you don’t 😭

I LOVE THIS BECAUSE I'VE HAD A SIMILAR THOUGHT i'm allergic to cats and i'm like...man what am I gonna do around Grim BUAHAHA...this is a great idea. Nothing is too silly to write my friend!

Non-human Twst boys reacting to a S/O who is allergic to them!

featuring: Savanaclaw and Octavinelle!

general warnings: gender neutral reader, not really proof read \

TW: None! just fluff. and allergies.

Leona

The first time you sneezed around him, they didn't know it was literally BECAUSE of him. This was until you two took a nap together for the first time, and when you woke up he saw your face...Oh, brother. Your eyes were puffy and red, congested, and your nose leaked like nobody's business. He genuinely felt bad about this, but wouldn't let you in on his true feelings/emotions. Without understanding the cause (though he had an inkling) he immediately took you to the doctor.

"They're allergic to me? What kind of shitty nonsense is that?!"

Leona invested in the most expensive of healthcare for you. Allergy pills and whatnot, because he wasn't about to sacrifice his lovely naps with his significant other. No amount of allergy is gonna stop him from getting what he wants, and that is your affection.

Ruggie

"Sooo...basically you're saying you're allergic to me? Cause' im part heyena?"

"It's a little more complicated than that. It's more like...animal dander? I guess?" You didn't seem to certain in your answer either, it was more or less a guess since...well, there wasn't half beast half human where you are from. You can only make an educated guess on why you're so allergic to him based off of the information you had back at home.

Ruggie is honestly so sad about this. He can't afford to get you any treatments or medical help with this, so you two just have to be careful. He does manage to get his hands on some special washing products (probably legally) and takes extra care of what he eats, and how clean he his. He's consistently brushing his hair and cleaning his ears.

"Man i'm such a simp. What's wrong with me?!" ...He isn't used to bending backward for people. But seeing you so sick around him, hurt him even more than his pride, so he of course would do anything to make sure you're as comfortable around him as possible. Ahh...the power of love <3

Jack

He gives me the "I must stay away from you for your own good," Type. Although this doesn't last very long. Jack is incredibly loyal, and he's far too attached to let you go. There's times where he would try and keep a distance (much to your annoyance), but when you began sneezing and itching your eyes you knew he was somewhere nearby. Jack is protective like that, but it pains his heart to see you so sick because of something he cannot control.

He does both a mix of what Ruggie and Leona does. He took up extra part-time jobs to afford good allergy medication for you, the entire works. Pills, eye drops, nasal sprays, breathing treatments...He also invests in high-quality shampoo and conditioner to help rid of his dander and hopefully reduce the amount of shedding he has.

With the amount of hair Jack has, he is CONSTANTLY brushing it and it is CONSTANTLY shedding. He does EVERYTHING under the sun to control this, all for you. Although... this is a partnership! You told him that a relationship goes two ways. You love him regardless of how itchy you may get, and you equally chip in to problem-solve.

You're both loyal to each other until the very end, no matter what trivial matters may get in your way <3

Azul

He knew before you two started dating that you had a severe allergy to seafood, so he made it a point to avoid you. But...that didn't stop YOU from coming to HIM. It was one of the things that drew him towards you, the way even though you were gaining a rash you would still wrap your arms around the back of him. Although it wasn't as bad in his human form, he was always terrified what would happen if he were to unleash his original form.

But worry not! We are talking about the literal king of potionology. He finds a remedy very quickly, and you trust him...a little too fast. He is astonished when he says;

"Take this...the second you drink this your allergies will be something of the past. But be warned-" You grabbed it out of his hand and chugged it. He stared at you with his jaw slacked open, his face turning a deep shade of hot red when you throw yourself onto Azul and place a big fat kiss against his cheek.

He imploded. But hey! his potion worked! He tried to get you to give him some sort of paypack, but you mentioned that your form of payment was in that kiss.

He now demands kisses every time he makes the potion for you <3 It's kind of a silent agreement. He just stares at you after you're done drinking it, and whenever you feign ignorance the point upon his lips is far too obvious.

Jade

The first time you broke out in hives, he remained completely calm. Jade is rather smart, and he understands your allergy must be because of his disposition as a mer-folk. Although in human form, he couldn't help but notice the way you would hide your rashes either behind makeup or by bulking clothing. He was amused by this for a moment, but when he saw it worsen he couldn't help but become worried.

"Why would you go so far for me? what do you gain by allowing yourself to become sick?" When you replied with a blush that you simply liked Jade, thus his shock soon turned into action. He excused himself for a few days to climb mountains and collect the most effective of flowers and medicinal remedies for allergies and put together a potion that you were able to take to alleviate your symptoms.

He isn't the vice house warden for nothing! His talents and magic prowess truly aided him, albeit in a way that was seemingly selfish. It was all worth it for you, though.

But he does use you as an example during a class project in potionology, having you stand up in front of the class while he compares your allergies before and after taking the potion.

He got a 100% in the project. And a Significant other. A win-win for everyone!

Floyd

Floyd is much smarter than he lets on. The moment he hugs you from behind and touches your arm, he notices the rash right away. He eyed it with a frown, and without saying anything he let go of you much to your dismay, leaving you to your lonesome for a few days on end.

You had to admit you missed Floyd, his silly jokes and way of talking, his unpredictable personality, and the attention he would often give y you. While sitting at the table during a free period, your head was propped up against your hand and a sad sigh escaping your lips.

"Ehhhh? Why is shrimpy sitting here all alone? Didya miss me?" A familiar voice teased as arms wrapped around you and something akin to a vegetable drink set in front of you. You gasped and smile up at the tall male, who wasn't wrapping his arms around you as you were used to, typically ignoring the itching of your rashes. He convinced you to drink what he sat in front of you, and although you eyed it with suspicion, you sighed and drank it in one gulp and tightly shut eyes.

Nothing happened. You turned to look over at Floyd, about to question the purpose of making you drink the (surprisingly tasty) smoothie-like liquid but were quickly interrupted by lips pressing against your own.

The kiss caught you off guard and you began to panic, talking about your allergy...before you realized that nothing was happening. No rash, no itchiness, nothing.

"Seeeee? It's a potion. I made Azul make it for me. Now I can touch you as much as I want," He smiled proudly. However he managed to convince Azul would forever be beyond you...

He forgets to give you the potion sometimes, only when you two are cuddling and a rash or itching pops up do the both of you realize it's time for a dose.

Ya'll are so silly for each other <3

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #octavinelle x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #jack howl x reader #twisted wonderland headcannons #twst headcannons #leona x reader

[yanderenightmare]

...part two where alpha bakugou finally tries to court reader after a few years of possessively scenting her and walks in on her in her first hear

Bakugou Katsuki

TW: omegaverse, possessiveness, awkward relationship

part 1

gn reader

He’s trying to figure out how to get you to move in with him. 

He’s done at UA now, receiving steady work and paychecks. His apartment is nice, in a good and practical location. Everything is stable. Everything’s in place.

Everything except you.

He knows he hasn’t been the most reasonable mate throughout the years. His confession was nothing short of a threat – forcing you to wear his clothes so others would know you were taken. 

But he did those things to protect you, to keep you safe – which is his duty as an Alpha. He's done his side of the courtship.

In all honesty, you’re the one who’s unreasonable – you’re the one not doing your job. 

He’s not blind to see how doting other Omegas are towards their Alphas.

You don’t dote on him – never kissy or cuddly or lovey-dovey – at best, you’re passive with an inclination to be agreeable.

How’s he supposed to make any sort of moves on you when you don’t give him any signals? At this rate, the two of you will be left in a platonic state of… not friendship or kinship… just plain awkwardness – a stalemate.

It’s embarrassing… the two of you haven't even consummated your bond yet. In fact, and even more embarrassing – you haven't even kissed.

You may very well not even be mates at this point.

He can’t blame you, though… 

He’s not any good when it comes to you. He never has been. All your conversations are of him either tutoring you in subjects, scolding you for not wearing his clothes, or admonishing you for not telling him about your schedule.

Actually, almost every conversation you have with each other is of him shouting at you.

It’s no wonder you won’t kiss him.

“Oi – I’m done. Heading over now.” He grunts as soon as he hears the tell-tale silence of you answering his call. 

“Uhm,” 

He furrows his brows at the soft warble, waiting for more.

There’s heavy breathing coming from your line. Then, a whimper which only makes his brows furrow tighter.

“I’m – uhm, not really feeling so good.” You finally say.

More heavy breathing, followed by a wince.

“Maybe you shouldn't come...”

“Hah? You’ sick? What kinda sick? How’d you get sick?” He immediately starts berating. “This is why you can’t live alone-”

“Just don’t come.” You interrupt a little louder, offering a sigh. “I don’t want to make you sick too…” He thought he even heard a sniffle. “I’ll stay inside, so don’t worry. I’ll call when I feel better – you can come then, okay?”

A small beat passes.

“No. I’m coming now.”

“But-” You whine, but he hangs up.

Dumb brat. Getting yourself sick. This is exactly why you should live with him. You don’t wear a jacket when it’s cold. You don’t eat what you should. You don’t drink enough water. You don’t sleep when you ought to.

“Oi! Open up, brat.” He bangs on your door when he arrives a curt fifteen minutes later – unbothered by the many other students buzzing around the dorm.

He hears you rush to open, quick footsteps padding across the floor – before the door swings open.

You pull him in by the arm, shutting it quickly behind him.

“Don’t call me a brat where everyone can hear, you dummy.” You hiss, slapping his chest in no way that hurt.

Still, he raises a brow at you.

Then he makes another grimace. Narrowing his eyes as he leans forward just a nod – his broad shoulders squared and stiff.

You curl your brows at the stance, tilting your head in askance while his nose scrunches – sniffing the air between you – almost scrutinizingly.

“You’re not sick.” He suddenly accuses.

It’s an odd thing to disagree on. But it always is with Katsuki – ever the unreasonable Alpha. 

“Yes, I am.” You sigh, brushing past him. “I have a fever, and I feel funny.”

He grabs you before you get too far – although softly – holding you by your upper arms while leaning in closer – now with his nose sliding along your neck.

You feel flushed at the proximity. Odd, for some reason.

Something tickles deep down in your stomach, along with the brewing pain you’d felt all day.

“Feverish, restless, aching stomach?” He lists the symptoms with a raised brow, though more so in a statement. Clicking his tongue at the clueless look of askance you give him in return. “You’re in heat, you dumbass.”

This time, you really feel flushed. Eyes going moon-big at his claim – suddenly very nervous. And for good reason.

“No… how do you know?” You deny, shaking your head as though it would make him any less right.

“Tch-” He scoffs halfheartedly – not sharply like he so often does.

Dropping your arms, he straightens his back and looks off to the side – his voice low with something you’d never heard from him.

“You’re stinking up the whole place...”

There’s a blush dusting his cheeks.

The feeling is mutual.

He hadn’t been on board when you’d told him you were moving out of your home to your college campus. The thought of you living in close proximity to dozens of other alphas and trigger-happy betas made the vein in his forehead pulse – hands sweaty at his sides. 

But he’d helped you move nonetheless – if only to make sure your dorm was infested with his scent – veering off any unwanted bidders. 

“Such a dumb brat…” He sighed. Walking over to the door to make sure you’d locked it – you hadn’t, which only further made him scowl. “Got any idea how dangerous this is? Allowing everyone who walks by to know exactly how-”

“Don’t shout!” You bark back. Feeling nervous and tense and worried – all in all panicked. This wasn’t the plan. “The plan was obviously to use suppressants – but I've never been in heat before, so-”

“So yer sayin’ you had no plan. Tch, unprepared – like always.” He bites back – also panicked.

“Shut up, jerk.” Your fists ball at your sides. “You’re not helping- oww-” You keeled before you could rant – wrapping your arms around your stomach.

Heavy breaths erratically short, interrupted by whimpers and a wince. 

His scowl cleared – easing up when he realized his presence might have just made things worse. He’d showered after patrol, so the scent wasn’t as intense, but it was enough for you to react – knowing his pheromones were spurring your hormones into greater turmoil. 

“Shit.” He muttered – suppose with some empathy – before he scooped you up from where you were all about ready to kiss the floor, huddled over. “Alright then, brat...”

You were weak to his handlings – before you knew it, you were already placed in the bed – the two of you in a spoon – your back to his broad chest and his chin atop your head.

He was a little stiff – not unlike him – but you suppose he was feeling a little shy about the matter – his movements perhaps even slightly sheepish as he smoothed his hand over your stomach.

He went under your shirt but didn’t lift it off – placing his palm down flat atop the ache inside. 

Slowly, he began rubbing circles into the flesh – a little awkwardly until finding the right pace. 

It hurt at first – made you tense – but then it settled. The warmth soon soothed the churning within, making it melt, and you let out a relieved sigh – breaths still burdened, laced with pitiful whimpers you couldn’t help but let slip.

He suppressed a sound when you shimmied closer – trying to will away the warmth he felt swell in his pants.

But your scent had been clouding his head since he'd stepped into the room and was only growing thicker. 

“We don’t have to do anything else.” He stated through the haze in spite of it – as though renouncing the need even though you both knew what it was that was poking against your butt.

“You’re hard.” You argued bluntly – as you’d learned was your only tactic with him. 

Feeling him bristle. “Tch – blame your shitty scent – a man can only hold himself back so much…”

All clothes were still on – and yet… the fat thing that was tucked right alongside the thin cotton of your pajama shorts and undies… you wouldn’t deny it felt nice – couldn’t – not when you were so wet it was embarrassing.

“Stop.” You said – and his hand peeled off your stomach, making you grab and put it back in place. “No, not that – I mean…” 

You chewed your lip – shuffling your thighs – feeling hot all over before releasing another sigh.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back…” You could only barely say it – almost unheard in how timid a whisper it was.

He took a moment in fear of having misunderstood you – remaining vigilant in his cautiousness. Every nerve recognized what a fragile state you were in – and nothing dared defy the single dominant instinct he had telling him to cater to your every need – despite the other almost equally incessant urge he felt to hump you like a pillow.

“Y’gotta explain yourself.”

This time, you gave a whine – caught between vexed and desperate. Shrinking where you lay snug against his bigger body, curling in on yourself. “Please don’t make me say it, Katsuki – it’s so embarrassing, I think I might die.”

His heart beats faster at the vulnerable cry. He swallowed the pool of drool under his tongue – squaring his jaw, doing his best to keep his voice calm. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.”

“Ugh – you're such a bully-” You curl even further into a ball with a whimper.

Katsuki clicks his tongue at your behavior – briefly rolling his eyes before pulling you up beneath him. His red eyes, holding that pointed dour look – such contrast to the swiveling of your watery ones. 

“Tell me what you want.” His voice was sturdier now – an anchor you could hold onto.

You had often been unsure whether Katsuki really was the right mate for you even though you couldn’t really picture yourself with anyone else – let alone think of him with another Omega without wanting to trash your room like a wild animal let out of the cage. But looking at him now – into those bromine eyes – once so harsh and now so mature, making you feel so safe.

He was waiting for an answer, but your lips had other plans – planting themselves on his in a spur-of-the-moment kiss.

And what left them once the two of you parted was nothing short of heart-robbing.

“Please fuck me.”

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #yandere bakugo #yandere bakugou #yandere bnha #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere katsuki #yandere my hero academia #yandere bakugou katsuki #yandere bakugo x reader #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere bakugou smut #bakugou smut #boku no hero academia smut #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Class clown

class clown gyu who for some reason has it out for nerd!reader and finally she gets sick of it and puts him in his place. warnings: dom!reader, sub!gyu, handjob, blowjob, dirty talk, pathetic gyu as always

"What is your problem?" You snap at Beomgyu, the class clown and the bane of your existence. He is always on your case, making fun of you in front of everyone. Today you made a mistake answering the proferssor's question and he immediatley jumped on it, humiliating you in front of the entire class. "Why do you have to mess with me?"

"Because you're fun to mess them." He answers simply, a huge infuriating grin on his face. You look really funny when you're angry."

You don't know what came over you, you're not usually a violent person but seeing his stupid cocky face makes you lose it and you shove him against the wall, slamming your hands on either side of his head to trap him in. "Do I look funny now?

But to your chagrin, he keeps grinning, not phased one bit. "Kinda."

You're so frustrated you could cry. There was nothing you have ever thought of or done that got him to leave you alone. He has been doing this to you for years, even back when you were at school. In fact you had been so excited to go to uni just to escape him, only to see his stupid face at your first lecture and your entire dream of escape came crashing down.

"What? The smart mouth finally has got nothing to say?" He goads when you stay quiet too long for his liking.

Your vision turns red. He makes you so frustrated and pent up, you would do anything to shut him up. Maybe that's why you resorted to doing something crazy.

Grabbing his face, you push your lips against his, intending to strong-arm him into silence. After all if his lips are busy, he can't mouth off anymore.

You don't know how you expected him to react to that--freeze in shock? Push you off? Call you crazy? You don't know but you certainly didn't expect him to almost immediately start kissing you back. It threw you off so hard you actually pull away from the kiss yourself.

But as soon as you pull back, he's running his mouth again. "Damn, nerd, looks like your mouth is good for somethjng other than eating the professor's ass."

"You're so fucking.. ugh!" You groan, shutting him up again. But this time you don't just use your mouth, instead you raise his shirt up, feeling up his body to his nipples and grabbing them between your thumbs and index fingers and pulling on them a bit roughly, making him gasp and break away from the kiss with a wet smack.

"Oh god," He groans, eyes fluttering as you roll his nipples between your fingers.

"You like that, brat?" You spit, happy to finally be getting the upper hand for the first time in your years of being tormented by Beomgyu.

"Fuck yeah." He groans and tries to reach out to touch your own tits.

"Don't fucking touch me, brat." You hiss at him, "If you touch me, I stop."

"You're being such a killjoy." He protests but it's hard for him to keep a steady voice when your fingers are playing with his clearly sensitive nipples like that, and even more so when one of your hands slips into his loose pants to palm his already very hard cock.

"You look like you're enjoying it enough." You mutter, twisting your hand up to the head of his cock, making him moan out.

"Fucking hell...Are you gonna fuck me?" He asks bluntly.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Gyu?" You ask, and any hesitency over the unfamiliar nickname vanishes as he shudders under your touch.

"If you're going to be handling my cock like that then I damn well expect to get a fuck out of it." He replies, still insolent despite his whimpering and frankly slutty moans.

"You're such a little bitch." You chastise, focusing your strokes on the head of his cock, aiming for maximum damage. "You think you deserve to get anywhere near my pussy after the shit you've pulled over me for years?"

He shrugs, trying to affect nonchalance but it's hard to but he's panting like a bitch for you. "Maybe if you get fucked good, you'd be a little less uptight.

Uptight! Just because you care about your future, that doesn't make you uptight. God, you hate him... but damn, does he looks fucking hot falling apart in your hands like that.

"And maybe if you were getting any attention on your cock apart from your own hand, you wouldn't be such an attention seeking slut." You jeer, getting down on your knees. "Now shut the fuck up or you won't get to cum at all."

"What--" He doesn't have time to formulate his question before you pull his pants down and wrap your mouth around his cock, sucking any retort right out of him.

"Oh, fuck, that's it." He arches his back, driving his cock further down your throat which you readily take, to his surprise.

"Fuck, where did you learn to suck dick like this?" He asks through his moans but you don't bother to answer him. You don't owe him an answer, you just want to shut the bitch up.

But Beomgyu is incapable of shutting up. "Have you been sucking dick on the down low? I didn't know the nerd is such a big slut. Thought you were a good girl."

You detach from his cock to retort, tearing a whine out of him which the idiot is too stupid to realize he is the cause of. "You're one to talk. Look how loudly you're moaning as soon as you get your dick wet. What? No one wants to fuck such a loudmouth?"

"Fuck you." He mutters, and you laugh. "You wish, baby." You smirk, bobbing your head down his cock again, going ruthlessly fast and getting the brat to writhe under you.

You think that would be the end of it but Beomgyu could die and his mouth would still be running. "Seriously, who are you fucking? Taehyun? Soobin? Don't tell me it's that manwhore Yeonjun?"

You pull off his dick in frustration, using your hand to jerk him off roughly instead. "Why do you fucking care who I fuck?"

"I don't care." He huffs, arching his back to push his cock further into your grip. "I just know they can't be fucking you good if you're still so uptight all the time. If you want a good time, I could give you the time of your life."

You burst out laughing, obviously bruising the boy's ego in the process but you don't care. And you don't even bother hiding your incredulity. "You? Do you even see yourself? I'm barely even moving my hand and you're fucking it like a dog in heat. Your dick is drooling all down my arm. You look like you're a few pumps away from creaming yourself. I don't think you'd even make it one stroke inside my pussy before you pop like a virgin."

"No, I'm not." He denies, trying to keep his hips still, clearly fighting with himself. "I can fuck you so good you'll screaming my name."

"You can? You can take hot, tight pussy until I cum? You can have me clench around your needy cock without emptying your balls inside me?" You reach your other hand out to cup his balls, massaging then gently between your fingers, making him suck in a shuddering breath. "You can hold back your hot cum until I'm ready to milk your cock? You won't just break and spurt your cum inside me as soon as you put it in?"

"Fuck, fuck, slow down." He gasps, trying to squirm away from your touch but you hold him tighter, jerking him off steadily.

"Why? Are you going to cum just from my hands? That's disappointing. I thought you wanted to give me the fuck of my life?" You cock your head to side, staring up at him condescendingly, making him shudder.

"Baby, please, slow down?"

"Baby?" You laugh. "Now I'm baby?"

"I can't take much more." He was jerking uncontrollably in your grip but you never let go, taking the hand on his balls off to press it against his lower tummy to hold him in place as you continue jerking off his now very red and slippery cock.

"Are you gonna cum?" You ask again and he nods, biting onto his lip harshly. "Yes, can I?"

You have to say you were taken aback at him suddenly asking for your permission to cum. You would have thought the brat would just do it with no warning. "Aw, baby is asking for permission to cum? If I knew it was this easy to get you to behave, I would have... well, actually I still wouldn't have touched you any sooner. But it's good to know how pathetic you really are."

"Fuck you." He repeats, voice strained in his effort to still hold back.

"You want me to say you can cum?" You tease, twisting your hand over the length of his cock slowly.

He nods. "Yes. Need it. Need it."

"Are you going to be good to me from now on?" You ask and he shakes his head. "You're too fun to tease."

"You are too." You counter, slowing your hand down, making him thrust his hips to try to get more of your touch so you smack his thigh in punishment. "Down, boy!"

"Baby, please!" He begs so sweetly, pining you with his pretty, brown eyes, his dick drooling in your grip.

"Are you going to be good from now on?" You tighten your grip around him as you deliberately move your hand up the entire length of his cock, feeling his precum dripping down your arm.

"Yes, yes, I'll be good. I'll be so good." He babbles, and you know he is lying his ass off, just wanting to say whatever would get you to let him cum, but even that makes you feel so fucking hot. To have that effect on your tormentor after all these years is a fucking head rush.

"God, you're a mess." You mutter, quickening your pace over his cock, making Beomgyu panic. "Wait, wait, can I cum? Can I cum?"

It's a little precious how much he panics over cumming without your explicit permission, so much so you decide to just give it to him, wanting to see the brat completely lose it in your grip.

"You can cum, brat." As soon as you utter the words--as if he was really waiting for them--he explodes, spurting rope after rope of cum down your arm and onto your chest.

"Thank you. Thank you, baby." He cries, emptying himself for you until he can no longer hold himself up anymore and collapses to the ground by your side.

But to your surprise and mild horror, Beomgyu takes a minute to calm himself down before he grabs his own cock and strokes himself to full hardness again, bearing through the pain of overstimulation for a reason that only becomes apparent to you after you ask, "What the hell are you doing, Beomgyu?"

"I promised I can fuck you good, didn't I?"

He really is insane.

____________________

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #sub!txt #sub!beomgyu #sub!idol #dom!reader #just a small unedited thing cuz I miss writing for gyu 😭 #really wanna get out the next yamqn chapter but have no time at all #so take this messy thing as a compromise

[writingoddess1125]

You tell the Old Men you're Pregnant + Extra

Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk

Just Fluffy Fluff!

Also to those who are saying "They aren't even old!" Blah Blah- I know. I'm using Old Ironically cause it's funny. Middle Aged just don't have the same ring to it and I would/could sub in DILF but I was trying to be good.

Anywho! Enjoy!!

Shanks

So drinking and unprotected sex can lead to pregnancy- who knew... Panicking yoh decide its best to just rip that bandage off.

"Shanks- I'm pregnant"

Shanks will stare at you for a while, before starting to laugh- Hard. He will bend over laughing as his panic response sets in-

"Shanks this isn't funny! I-"

He grabs your hand and pulls you close as he held you still laughing now much softer.

"You're the best things that has ever happened to me-" He will whisper in your ear and hold you close.

This man acts like he can shit gold and piss roses when he finds out your pregnant. Nothing can get him down or damper his mood.

Even though you are miserable and sick most of this pregnancy- for almost the whole length of your pregnancy you are vomiting or nauseous so Shanks has to make you eat and buys things to help you.

"Shanks I'm not hungry..." You grumble as you sit on the bed. Shanks hanging you a cup of tea and some soft bread.

"I know love- But you haven't had anything solid in 3 days. Let's get this bread a try?" He says softly, You nodding and eating what you could and sipping of the flowery tea.

He will eventually find something that you can eat without getting sick and buy as much of it as possible. He may grow tired of the smell but will never complain.

When you go into labor he is still a little too excited at the prospect of his child being brought into the world. Will comfort you the whole way through but is more interested in seeing his child.

Buggy

It was a complete accident- You blamed the trip to the hot springs two months previously.. being pregnant with Buggy's child was definitely not what you had planned for yourself or him.

"Buggy I'm pretty sure I'm um.. pregnant"

You beeak it to him after a good day and even set out his favorite sweets to try and make this as soft as possible. Buggy just stares at you, His face completely unreadable as he just stares at you.

"Buggy?..." You are now anxious as he stays silent and stone faced- However he walks over to you lightly and just wraps his arms around you. Not saying a word but you can feel how tense his body is- He's scared?...

"We will be fine.. All of us. How do you feel about it?..." He will mumbled- This being so different to how he normally is as he is feeling scared in a new way.

After the initial shock of it all he will be so over the top its not even funny. You might as well be made out of glass and carrying a paper child cause that's how he treats you. Infront of the crew while he is less likely to be as openly affectionate he is still just as protective.

Understands physical insecurities so will never insult or even bring up your appearance as your body goes through changes. Hell have mercy on the person who even accidently hints at your bigger weight since he will go ape-shit and throw the biggest tantrum of all temper tantrums before brutally killing whoever said it.

He is very Very touchy- his hand has to always be on you at all times and so his detached hand has been known to stay either on your lower back, or on your arm like some horror themed arm band.

In private he is very thoughtful especially as you get near the due date.

"Sorry pressure" You hissed in discomfort rolling to your side to receive some pressure from your back. Buggy getting up calmly and moving you to stand on your feet. Which was definently not something you wanted-

That was till Buggy stood behind you as his hand detached and went under your large belly gently listing it up which relived the pressure from your back. You sigh and lean against him as he does this. Will hold you stomach up for a solid hour ignoring the sorness in his hands for you-

Will feed you constantly any food he can find, Anything you want he has made for you. If a food makes you sick magically the plate seems to be thrown out to open sea.

Will also be an emotional wreck when his children are born- If you are angry at him or scream while in labor he will take it- if not give a few quips back. However all is forgotten once the kids arrive.

Mihawk

While you believe it was an accident- It was not by Mihawks standards. He has been planning this for months since you are the only one he sees worthy of officially carrying his children.

"Mihawk I'm pregnant" You say bracing for at least a level of irritation but instead he looked pleased. Reaching a hand out to caress your belly and stare at you fondly.

"I am happy to hear that"

Will take blame in saying he must have not been careful and that its too late now and will be happy to take full and total responsibility.

Is a textbook kind of man so will have book pages memorized on what you should be doing. How many more calories needed for the baby, stretches, the healthiest food. Aka he's fucking annoying-

You will be in the kitchen with a fork in a cake eating, feeling the wave of low blood sugar that has clouded your mind and tired of the veggies or fresh fruit that Mihawk had shoved down your throat- Mid bite the cake was pulled away by Mihawk.

"It is bad for you to have-" Will pause at your glare as you step very close to him, Grabbing his beard with iron clasp hands and yank him down to your level which make his eyes go wide.

"Mihawk... If you don't hand over that cake- I'm going to take your sword and shove it so far up your ass that the handle will be in your mouth" You all but hiss, Making Mihawk lower the cake down and hand it to you silently.

Will learn that maybe not everything has to go to textbook. Despite being a bit of a hardass for your safety he will give you massages, rub your feet help decorate to your liking. If you're sick will help you the entire time in getting better.

Rubs lotion on any tender spots or stretch marks and hums a tune you've never heard before.

Will be there with every step of the way during the labor. Supportive and comforting the whole time his child is being brought into the world, If complications will be a rock for you and will pick you if it came down to it.

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece shanks #shanks one piece #red haired shanks #shanks x reader

[chrolloluvr]

Adam, Mammon, Alastor and Lucifer if S/O is on their period

Note: AFAB!Reader, not proofread, (should I make a story out of mammons??)

Warnings: Mentions of sex, minor degrading?, fluff 🥺, cute moments

Adam 🕊️:

He has an idea of how periods or the menstrual cycle work. In his time of being married to Eve and Lilith, he basically just let them handle it themselves. But with you, thats not how it works

When you get moody swings, he tells you that your being dramatic.

"Babe what the hell? Take a chill pill, jesus."

Please slap him across the face.

When you get cramps, he will throw you some Pepto bismol and call it a day.

If you send him to the store, he will ask you what flavor tampon you want (???), and if he can have a visual representation on what size he needs.

He tried to FaceTime you 15 times...

Had to disguise himself so nobody knew he was there.

He will offer to have sex with you, since that was what seemed to work with his other two wives

Goes out and buys you snacks, but he forgets that you're on your period so he mostly bought them for himself.

Asks Lute for advice, since he isn't a girl.

You end up with your head resting on his shoulders, while you sit in his lap. He will call you a drama queen, but he will still comfort you.

Mammon 🕸️:

He knows literally nothing about periods or the menstrual cycle.

He never really cared to learn anything about it either, since he had never taken any romantic interest in anybody until you. He considered it a waste of time.

When you have mood swings, he does not take you seriously, and he will probably baby you.

"Awhh, dont get your thong in a twist sugar. Now calm down before i have to hold your ass down-"

When cramps roll around, he will just put his hand over your lower stomach. And just, leave it there? He thinks it helps you, so don't argue with him or he will back off of you.

When you send him to the store, he asks you for your pussy size...

Will FaceTime you, and show you all of the options.

Gets stopped and asked for photos multiple times, so it takes him like an hour.

He ends up getting you Nutella, pads, and a menstrual cup, because he thought it looked funny. He even jokes about it being his next big product.

Offers to eat you out. Yes, while you are on your period. He is a freak. He does not mind getting his mouth bloody. I HC that he actually prefers when you are on your period, because he likes the metallic tase and smell it emits.

Wont let you out of his sights during this time. He will let you lay on top of him while you two watch your favorite show. And he will hand feed you the chocolate and say,

"Heres comes the choo choo train cutie 😙"

Lucifer 👑:

He knows a lot about the menstrual cycle and how it works. He was very attentive to Lilith during their marriage.

When you get moody, he will distance himself from you, not wanting to add more fuel to the fire.

"Hey honey, I just wanted to check in on you, see how you were doing, you know-"

When you have cramps, he hates seeing you in pain, so he will heat up a heating pad and rest it on your stomach.

When you send him to the store, he goes in a disguise. He will call you and ask what specific products you want.

He ends up getting you strawberries, chocolate, medicine, etc.

He treats you like you are sick. Will force you to stay in bed under his supervision.

Will also offer to eat you out. He just wants to make you feel better, and he is an expert.

He will spoon-feed you medicine, and turn on your favorite show. He will snuggle up against your chest and fall asleep.

Will ask Charlie for some advice and help. He really does care for you deeply. So he just wants to make sure you are content and satisfied.

Alastor 🦌:

Knows quite a bit about period and the menstrual cycle.

When you get moody, he will also coddle you like Mammon. Will purposely try to get you more upset. But stops after a while, since he is a gentlemen.

"My little doe, lets stop with this tantrum. Your a big girl, aren't you?

When you get cramps, he will come up behind you and trap you in a bear hug while rocking the both of you. He will do this while using his thumbs to rub your shoulders.

Instead of the store, he goes to Rosie and asks her for supplies and advice. He hates seeing you upset, so what better of a person to ask for advice from than his long time friend Rosie?

He will not want to do anything sexual with you. Not because he does not like getting bloody, (he has, and isn't afraid to.), But because he does not want to possibly hurt you.

He will try to stay near you as much as possible. He maaaay even let you touch his ears if you look up at him all nice and cute.

Tells you a story, or will turn on the radio for you to both listen to.

#hazbin hotel #helluva boss #adam hazbin #adam x y/n #adam x you #adam x reader #Mammon hb #mammon x reader hb #mammon x you #mammon x y/n #hb mammon #adam hazbin hotel #stolas helluva #lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #alastor #alastor hazbin #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n

[pretty-toru]

lovesick┆gojo satoru

୧ genre: fluff

୧ wc: 1.4k

୧ synopsis: megumi is sick with a common cold, and gojo is simply lovesick for you.

Gojo Satoru convinces himself that he's not jealous.

How could he feel such a prickling and burning sensation in his lower tummy, slowly rising towards his heart making his blood boil and face grow hot just because you're nursing eleven-year-old Megumi back to health? The same little rascal that he had previously gotten into a spat with over something stupid and it doesn't help that the brat's sticking his tongue out and pulling down his lower eyelid taunting him.

But of course, you're too busy doting over sweet and innocent Megumi to notice. Too preoccupied with fluffing the pillows for the young boy to rest his poor head on, gently tucking him in with a cozy throw blanket, putting something on the platinum screen with the promise of brewing him a ginger-honey tea to make him feel better.

No matter how much Gojo tries to ignore Megumi, his facial muscles twitch and contort on their own in utter dismay and his Six Eyes zeroes in on the couch-ridden boy with his lips curling into a deep frown before sticking his tongue back at him.

"Come on, Satoru. Be nice to him, he's really sick." You say as you start the kettle and reach for a mug from the cabinet. Gojo's forced to acknowledge that Megumi wasn't faking the snotty nose and loud sneezes, but he still doesn't like the idea of losing to one smug child and giving him the satisfaction that he's secured his revenge which is your devoted attention. Maybe Megumi knew that his guardian would go a wee-bit insane being treated as a second thought but Gojo will never admit that it's working.

"Hey honey, you know what? I don't feel so good either. Here, feel my forehead." Gojo takes your hand and places it over his forehead to check if it's warm to the touch and he makes sure to do his best impression of looking pathetically sick—droopy eyelids, jutting his lower lip into a pout, and slumped shoulders to get your sympathy.

"Satoru, you feel perfectly fine. There's nothing wrong with you."

"I swear I'm not feeling well. My throat feels weird and scratchy, my body feels flashes of hot and cold, my head is pounding and it's killing me, and.." Gojo tries to convince you that he's experiencing every symptom he could think of and you knew he was determined to be sick. Between your "uh-huh" and "right" you decide to humor him as you follow his explanation and tried your hardest to hold back a smile when he throws in an exaggerated detail or two.

"Alright, you big baby. We can't have you feeling sick now, can we? Can't have the strongest sorcerer out of commission for long, hm?"

"Nope, that'd be very bad. As long as you drop everything and pour all your attention on me, I should get better in no time. No pressure or anything, but the world does kinda depend on it~" Gojo flashes you a toothy grin then quickly remembers that he's supposed to be sick and feigns a cough or two averting your knowing glance.

"Hmm, okay I'll see what I can do. Now come here, let's get you all nice and comfortable so you can get your much-needed rest and get well again." You lead him to your shared bedroom and reflect the covers back for him to climb onto the mattress and ensure he's warm and cozy as you pull the comforter over him. For someone who's supposed to feel horribly ill Gojo sure can't seem to wipe the smile off his face. "You seem a little too happy to be sick, don't you think?"

"Just glad that you'll be the one to help me get back my strength is all." Through his fluttering lashes, he sports the most innocent and angelic expression he can muster and you can't help the soft giggle given his stellar performance up until this point.

"Alright, if you say so. I'll get you something to eat, okay? I'll be right back."

As you're turning on your heel to head for the door, Gojo pouts and protests. "Wha- No sweet kiss to hold me over? You might be a while and I'll get lonely since you're not here to keep me company."

"Aw, sorry baby. But you know there's no kissing until you're all better. Can't get myself sick now that I have to look after you and Megumi, right? I promise you I won't be long."

"...Not even a forehead kiss? :(" He murmurs under his breath as he watches your back to him and eventually disappears into another room. Once Gojo's left to his own devices, he wonders how long it would take you to complete your task on hand. He fiddles with his thumbs and counts the passing minutes. One minute becomes five, five becomes ten, then ten becomes twenty and he suddenly cannot bear to be apart from you much longer and checks on you.

"Sweetheart, what's taking you so long? I thoug-" And there he stumbles across the answer to his own question. Megumi is being spoon-fed rice porridge by you because he claims that his arms are too weak to do it himself and you couldn't leave him starved in his condition. Gojo appears crestfallen and disgruntled in the throw blanket draped over his lanky body and with a small huff he grumbles, "So that's what you've been up to. Fine, fine I guess it's up to me to take care of myself, huh?"

"What's wrong with him? Is he sick too or something?" Megumi asks nonchalantly as he watches his mentor's dejected form return to his bedroom to sulk. You gently shake your head and offer the young boy a soft smile, but you do feel a little bad that your husband has been acting unusual lately hence his needy and clingy tendencies.

"He's just going through a phase, but don't you worry about him and focus on getting better, okay? I'll find a way to make it up to him."

When you enter your shared bedroom with a platter of breakfast in your grasp, you found Gojo hiding under the covers in an attempt of giving you his silent treatment. You place the serving tray of food on the nightstand and situate yourself on the bed beside him, smoothing your hand over his covered shoulder as he's laid on his side with his face away from you. "Satoru, my love, I've brought you breakfast."

With a soft shrug of his shoulder, he responds with a strained hum but you know it's just him being melodramatic because he could never truly be mad at you. "Do you wanna tell me what's on your mind? I'm all yours if you come on out from under the covers."

Gojo shifts his body weight around and tufts of white hair start to peek as he gradually pulls the blanket down until you meet his azure gaze and he receives your sweet smile. "Hey there, is everything alright? Did I do something to upset you?" The tender warmth of your hand finds its home on his cheek with a gentle caress and he sighs contently at the familiar touch. You're patient as you wait for him to gather his thoughts, your fingers moving to his soft tendrils in soothing motions and he inches closer to you.

"You've never done a single thing wrong ever. You are perfect," he begins slowly. "I just missed you and ever since I got back from my mission you were too busy with the kids (Megumi and Tsumiki) that we haven't had any time together and I just wanna be with you." Gojo confesses as he's playing with the hem of your shirt, feeling a bit vulnerable to look you straight in the eyes. "Oh, and another thing... I'm not actually sick I only said that so you'd notice me more."

"Thanks for being honest with me. And I knew that you weren't sick. For someone who's supposed to be good at anything he tries, I'm glad that you turned out to be a pretty bad liar."

Gojo's face heats up at that and he unceremoniously buries his face in your lap from embarrassment, as muffled words of "Oh, so you knew. I thought I was pretty convincing" managed to reach your ears.

"Tell you what, how about we have ourselves a nice picnic this weekend? Just the two of us, I'll find someone to watch the kids. And I think maybe spending an afternoon in the sunshine will do us some good. What do you think?"

Gojo suddenly lights up at your proposal. "I think you're wonderful for planning the perfect date."

"You're sweet for giving me so much credit." Your soft laughter quickly melts his heart and he returns your affections, feeling a little more in love with you as you're both sharing a moment together. "I love you."

"I love you so much more, my sweet angel."

#a lil extra: megumi makes an origami turtle signed 'truce?' to which gojo responds with his own 'truce' and all is right in the world again #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk gojo satoru #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru fluff

[norrisleclercf1]

I absolutelly love your writing and I love your Mafia Charles!!!

I want to request more of Mafia Charles, with whatever plot you want!!

Love from Brazil!

A/N: Feeding the children @mariahcarreyyy @piastrification @leclerced even though you all turned on me

WARNING: Knife, Blood, Death, all that fun stuff in the world

If there was one thing in the world that you wanted right now, it'd be a knife. Anyone else would say a phone, their boyfriend, hell maybe even gun, but you? No you wanted a knife so you could slash the bastards throat before you.

It was supposed to be a quiet day, where you and your very gorgeous boyfriend would just lounge around. Instead, when you went downstairs to get the food you're knocked out and then dragged to god knows where in the middle of fucking nowhere. It'd be pretty hard to keep you in Monaco, you were either in fuck middle France or Italy.

Honestly you didn't care, you were just pissed that you couldn't eat your pasta and then fuck your boyfriend. You roll your eyes thinking about what he must be going through. Charles, was probably tearing apart Monaco looking for you and Max, Carlos, and Pierre maybe even Lando would have to be calming him down right now.

Your head snaps up when the large door rolls open, eyes narrowing you try not to swallow the wad of cloth in your mouth, tap covering it so you couldn't easily spit it out. Hating this sand paper feeling in your mouth you tried not to think about the wine you were drinking earlier as you were just getting far more annoyed as the time passed.

"Wake up," Your head whips to the side so hard and fast your eyes could spin in your head. Trying to gather your ground you blink quickly but nothing helps until your hair is grabbed and forces your neck backwards at an awkward angle as you face one of the men that have taken you.

"I wonder, would he pay quicker if I bloodied you up a bit? I think he would," The man groans and you flinch at the hot breath wanting to gag but clearly, you couldn't. "Mark! Leave the girl alone, he'll take out heads if we hurt her," The other man snaps, Mark, growls and shoves you, chair going toppling and you whimper hearing a sick crack from one of your wrists.

You were going to cut that one like a fish.

---------------------

You were taught at a young age that closing your eyes and deep breathing would help you sleep, and at this moment that was what you were trying to do. You slowed your breathing down impressively, almost making it look like you weren't breathing.

"Hey, I don't think she's breathing!" The other one screams, you hear the one named Mark scuff. "Who cares, we'll just dump her body to him when we get the money." "Mark!" Groaning the guy gets up, you try hard not to breath in relief when you feel your wrists get cut loose and then your feet.

"Take the gag off," You wince unable to stop it when the tape is ripped off and your mouth pried open and the cloth taken out. You try to swallow but can't still having to play dead. "Fucking bitch, she better not have died." You feel something sharp poke you.

Snapping your eyes open you swing your leg out, Mark screams and you grab the knife and move, shoving it deep into the unnamed man before you. You hate the sound of men choking on blood, they sound pathetic. Grabbing the gun you cock it and point it Mark whose glaring at you, but starts to smirk sickly at you.

"Little girl, I suggest you put the gun down before you hurt yourself." "Fuck you, pussy." You don't even blink as you shoot the gun, almost blowing the guys head off as you sigh. "How long you been there?" You ask, seeing Charles leaning against the door smiling.

"Since you arrived here, was seeing how long it'd take you to escape, but I wasn't expecting this. This," He looks around and smirks, playing with the rings on his fingers. "was much hotter." You drop the gun and step over the bodies. Some of your blood and their blood on your clothes.

Charles stares at you with such hunger and want you almost jump him right then and there. "I think they broke my wrist," You admit, finally feeling the pain as the adrenaline starts to leave your body, making you shaky and tired. His eyes narrow and his delicate fingers grab and hiss seeing the ugly purple and black surrounding it.

"Fuckers, lucky they're dead." He curses and places a soft kiss on the wrist before looking over you. "Come, let's get you home." "How far is home?" You ask, not wanting the long drive back to Monaco. "Oh, 5 minutes, they're not really bright." Charles tsks and you stop in your tracks.

Max was never going to let you live this one down.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 scenario #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc oneshot #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 x you #cl16 one shot #tw: dark content #mafia!f1 #f1!mafia #mafia!charles leclerc

[boosari]

— seventeen with a clingy s/o

pairing: bf!svt x reader

genre: fluff

req: by anon: "seventeen with a clingy s/o"

warnings: mentions of kissing and hugging

summary: how seventeen is with their clingy s/o.

scoups

literally loves it. as much clingy as you. loves it when you want to keep him close to you, when you hug him or kiss him. might get a little flustered if you show that affection when you're with the members (cause he knows he's going to get teased) but really loves it.

jeonghan

a tease. as always. but he likes it too. if you kept kissing him and snuggling close to him he would say "oh? you like me that much? you really can't stay away from me can you?" and giggles afterwards while holding you close.

joshua

feels so loved. he likes being loved by you. he might not show it but secretly likes it. when you stop clinging, he would pout and tug on your arm murmuring "don't go, stay with me". and you cling even more, making him smile.

jun

way more clingy than you. he's always attached to you. literally kisses you 24/7. everywhere, lips, cheeks, nose, forehead, neck everywhere. it's like you're doing a battle on who's clingier. the members used to tease you but now they're literally sick of y'all never leaving each other.

hoshi

do i even have to say it. same as jun, he just can't leave your side, is always hugging you and kissing you. if you're away, he video calls you and even if he's literally doing nothing. if you went by his house and are now returning back home, as soon as you get out he calls you. event tho you didn't even made it to your car yet.

wonwoo

he just...accepts it. don't get me wrong, he also is clingy, but he likes to keep it private. you're clingy even in public, with the members or anyone. he just shows that side of his when you're alone. but he loves you being clingy. it clarifies that he belongs to you.

woozi

just goes 'aigoo' whenever you hug him or kiss him. then hugs/kisses you back. just like wonwoo, he's very neutral. doesn't hate it, doesn't love it either. he wishes he could show more affection, but you always tell him that it's okay and shower him with love, which makes him fall for you even more.

dk

no no no. there's no way you can be more clingy then him. never. literally is attached to you always. whenever the members ask where he is, the answer is 'he's with yn'. he kisses your cheek every 5 seconds. might as well eat your cheeks cause he finds them cute and puffy. (just like how he kisses seungkwan's cheek)

mingyu

he's clingy as well. especially your hugs, they're the best. a lot might think he's the big spoon (yeah sometimes) but you are usually. he just loves being embraced by you. and no he is not ashamed that you're glued to him even in public. actually loves to show you both off.

minghao

he finds it so cute. always smiles when you show your affection to him. might get shy in public, but still lets you be. when you're at home, he gets clingy too, always asking for your hugs. your presence really calms him and makes him feel happy.

seungkwan

he's shy. very very shy. but he absolutely loves your clinginess. lets out little sounds of happiness when you cling onto him. he's clingy too, he loves to hold your hand and if you can't be attached to him, you always have to be somewhere where he can have you under his watch.

vernon

i honestly think he also is clingy. maybe a lot of people think otherwise but i feel like vernon likes physical touch. he loves hugging you and kissing you. when you're with the members or anyone else, he notices that you're trying to kiss him so he looks at you, trying not to grin because you look so cute, and he's the one kissing you, leaving you flattered.

dino

he‼️loves‼️your‼️attention‼️. literally, loves being loved. he loves how you always think of him when he's not around. normally it would be the members saying 'dino talks a lot about you' but it's actually the opposite. you're the one who talks about him a lot. he loves how you get excited whenever you meet him, immediately hugging him tight. always returns the clinginess and shows you lots of love.

a/n: hi! back with another ot13 reaction, thank you for the request anon. it actually took me a while to post (my bad) but here it is, hope you enjoy!

masterlist

#seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #scoups imagines #scoups x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan x reader #joshua imagines #joshua x reader #jun imagines #jun x reader #hoshi imagines #hoshi x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo x reader #woozi imagines #woozi x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu x reader #minghao imagines #minghao x reader #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan x reader #vernon imagines #vernon x reader #dino imagines #dino x reader #boosari

[agroteraa]

Artemis

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Part 2.

Part 1: Actaeon

Part 3.1: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.1)

Part 3.2: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.2)

Warnings: smut, oral, handjob, penetration sex.

Word Count: 5,5K

After the events of the last night, you didn't join in watching TV with the Cattons and Oliver. No, you weren't tired, but you were overwhelmed with emotions and all that had happened. Besides, you couldn't imagine how you could just go and watch telly with Oliver after that. It would be too embarrassing to pretend that nothing had happened, and you didn't think he'd be able to keep his face either.

So, you just went to your bed, tossing and turning for most of the night, thinking about what scenes in the bathroom. It felt like Oliver's hands were still ghostly wandering all over your body...

You came to breakfast very sleepy and visibly a little lost. It was a beautiful and sunny morning, and all Saltburn habitants were sitting at a table outside and eating various treats.

"Good morning, everyone!" you said, not being able to hold back a yawn.

"Good morning, sweetheart!" Elspeth replied, looking at you worriedly, "Is everything alright?"

Felix echoed his mother's look, slightly raising his eyebrows in concern. The others were busy with their own conversations, and only Oliver silently cast a brief glance at you, returning to eating his full English breakfast.

"Yes, it's okay, I'm just... I couldn't fall sleep for a while."

"Okay," Elspeth nodded, satisfied with your rather innocuous answer.

When you took a seat at the table opposite Oliver, you couldn't look into his eyes, your stomach was twisting, not from the hunger, but from the excitement. You didn't feel like eating at all. Duncan brought you eggs cooked in your favorite way, you nodded gratefully to him, but you were in no hurry to eat. Oliver noticed it.

"Is something wrong?" he asked innocently, looking up at you.

"Um, I'm just... I don't know, I guess I'm just not hungry right now."

"Hmm. Well, but I am. I've been hungry since last night. Very much," he chuckled, returning to his meal with appetite.

You gulped. It seems that he didn't mean breakfast at all now?

That had how your morning went, and then you went about your own business. Oliver, Felix, Farleigh and Venetia went to play tennis. You dismissed the game, and even more so there were exactly four of them. Instead, you went for a walk in gardens of Saltburn, read a book in a shady gazebo and muse upon the evening ahead. So, the evening had finally come, forcing the hot sun to forget about itself until the next day.

You thought and decided to politely decline the dinner. To be honest, you were feeling sick with excitement, and you definitely wouldn't be able to eat anything at dinner, especially if Oliver would be looking at you. It was better to seem a little weird now than to get a bunch of unwanted questions later.

Instead, you decided to stay in your room, citing a slight indisposition. You really had it, though, for a different reason. You lied down on the bed and began to remember the last night. His touch, his breathing, his piercing blue eyes that turned dark with desire at that moment... a desire for you.

It was hard to even believe it, but it seemed that was it. Your breathing got heavy when you started running your fingers over your lips, feeling your hot breath on your fingers, because you imagined that it were Oliver's fingers...

... ohh. You definitely needed to do something about it tonight.

* * *

"Where have everyone gone? I've been looking for y’all for half an hour," you said, finding Oliver in the library, who was comfortably settled in an armchair and reading a book.

"They're playing Uno. It seems that Felix and Farleigh will quarrel even more than yesterday over the remote control, and Venetia is also with them."

"Why aren't you with them too?"

"I'm not a fan of these kinds of games," Oliver explained with an emphasis on "these" not even looking up from his book.

"Mm, yes, about Venetia. Although she is not giving concerts in the bathroom tonight, but now there is only cold water running, apparently there is also some kind of heating malfunction, and the second bathroom still has not yet been repaired..."

At this point, Oliver looked up at you, his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Oh, really?"

"Mhm..." you confirmed, biting your lip.

He looked at you searchingly, tilting his head slightly to the side. Then, with a rising smile, he replied to you, "Of course. Enjoy yourself," and returned to reading his book. That was it, there was no further reaction or words from Oliver.

"F-fine." That was it? For some reason, you hoped that he would somehow hint that he would also join you, or at least react livelier to your words. But you had no choice but to go back to your room, get a bathrobe and go to that bathroom. You didn't bring a towel. Okay, Oliver, if you wanted to play ignore, we could arrange that.

Going into the bathroom of Oliver and Felix, you began to fill the tub. The room greeted you again with a pleasant dim lighting and the hum of water flowing down. His incomprehensible indifference throughout the day had upset you and even slightly angered you. Therefore, this time you had already put things on Felix's half on purpose and took his towels, no matter what Oliver had asked you to do.

After a while, you sank into the pleasantly hot water and began to wait. More precisely, at first you were really relaxing, but with every passing minute you were rather waiting for Oliver more than enjoying the process. But he did not come.

"Damn," you swore inwardly, and just as you were starting to think about getting out of the bath and getting ready, Oliver walked into the room.

"Hello!-" you started.

"Hi," he replied shortly and walked into his room, hardly looking at you. What?

You changed your mind about getting out of the bathtub right now and decided to sit in it until something would happen. About 5 minutes later Oliver came out, dressed in a domestic white tank top and stiped blue boxers. Your stomach turned over from this intimacy of his outfit. He went to his bathroom table, turned the water on and, as if nothing had happened, began to brush his teeth. He didn't start a conversation with you.

"So, uh, how was your day?" you began hesitantly, turning your head towards him.

"We played tennis, then took a dip in the pool, and then I enjoyed reading in the evening. Well, you’ve seen it."

"Yeah, that’s great..."

"And how was yours?"

"Not like... how I thought it would pass. I think I feel weird..."

"It must be because you didn't sleep well today. Go to bed early, yeah?"

"Huh? Yeah, I guess..."

You were a little lost. You looked at Oliver from behind, but he didn't turn to you. Of course, he was looking at you in the mirror again. He was a little on edge right now. This evening was not going quite the way he had imagined, but it was even intriguing.

The thing was that he had decided not to do anything with the second bathroom today. He overheard a conversation that the first bathroom had not been repaired again today, as the workers had confused the date and would arrive only tomorrow. So, it was even interesting for him to put it in the hands of fate. Would Venetia take over the only left bathroom again? Or would you just come in and innocently, hiding your gaze, ask Felix again or even Oliver himself if you could use their the bathroom again. Or maybe you would silently, struggling with your shame and desire, come to their bathroom and use it, hoping that something similar to the previous time would happen? Oh, he would definitely make your desires, which you were still afraid to admit to yourself, come true.

But no. You came to him and lied to him about the second bathroom, looking straight into his eyes.

"So, Y/N, do you want to remain innocent, but at the same time you know how to lie in your favor? It's interesting. You're beautiful and you did take a sacred bath, and now you really think you can be Artemis in every sense? No, no, no. No. Dear, there can only be one hunter here, and that's me," Oliver thought to himself, "And if you want to play on my field, well, I'll show you how it’s done."

With these thoughts, Oliver bit his lip contentedly, continuing to read the book while you left the library, but his thoughts drifted further and further away from the subject of reading.

At first, he wanted to nonchalantly go into the bathroom and, while he was brushing his teeth, catch your glances with his skin, hear your rapid breathing and catch the sounds of your feet fidgeting in the water. Then, having played enough with this longing, he would help you get out of the bathroom, wipe your beautiful naked hot body with his towel, hold your hands and take you to his room, where he would give you all the pleasure you would wish for. And this time he would have taken everything he wanted from you, enjoying you at its fullest.

But no.

You left your stuff on Felix's side. You took his towels. He told you not to do that.

His teeth almost bit his toothbrush in half when he saw it through the mirror. Was it an act of defiance, a way to attract extra attention, or a way to cause jealousy? Y/N, don't be a fool. But he hated to admit it, that some kind of jealousy had appeared in him anyway, and he was mad about it. No, don't you even dare to think that way. You were his, you would be only his.

The mood for a slow and sensual night has evaporated completely. Right now, Oliver could only bend you over and fuck you properly. Yes, that would be sweet too. But still, he didn't want to ruin everything and start your relationship like this. He'd better go to bed now, and tomorrow he’d know better.

"So, I'm going to bed, too. Good night, Y/N," Oliver said calmly, clutching the toothbrush in his hands with all his might, making it almost break it a second time.

You were left alone in the bathroom. What had happened? Were you too persistent, and Oliver was upset by your persistence? Or was he really that angry about your stuff left on Felix's table? It also occurred to you that he somehow intuitively felt and was upset about your lies, but of course he couldn't know that. But you still felt somehow guilty.

After getting out of the bathtub and draining the water, you dried yourself with a towel and, putting on your bathrobe, leaned your hands on the sink on Felix's side. You looked in the mirror and thought what should you do. No, you couldn't just walk away, there was too much left unsaid.

*Knock-knock*

"Oliver!"

The door opened a crack, in front of you there was Quick looking out of the darkness with his bright blue eyes. He took off his tank top and wore boxers only. You involuntarily looked at his beautiful torso, on which was nothing on but one chain, glittering on the neck. You gulped.

"Yes?" he asked in a low, hoarse voice.

"Can we talk?" this time it was you who walked into his room without waiting for an invitation or even more so a refusal.

You stepped into his dark, moonlit room. He stood a few inches away and silently looked you up and down. You continued, "You've been acting kind of weird all day, I'm sorry if this is me who..."

"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience right now.

He silently pulled you to him, kissing you. You were very surprised, but you gave yourself up to this kiss with joy. Oliver kissed you passionately and long, then he took your hand and pulled you towards his bed. He carefully loosened the belt of your robe, admiring you from head to toe. Then he gently but abruptly threw you onto the bed and fell on top of you, leaning on his elbows and knees. Quick started kissing your neck, leaving hot prints of his lips on it, then he kissed your collarbone, then the place between your breasts. You started hugging him harder. Oliver continued his way down, kissing the place under your breasts and then slid his tongue over your stomach all the way to the bottom. You exhaled loudly, moving one hand to his soft hair on his head and squeezing it slightly.

He breathed out contentedly, and you could feel his smile on your skin. Then he cast a brief lustful glance at you, and went down even lower, to the most desired place. He kissed your inner thigh and then placed his lips on your folds. You felt his hot breath for a few seconds, as if he was enjoying this moment and didn't believe in it himself. Those few seconds seemed like an eternity to you, until he ran his tongue over your folds. You were already wet, so wet.

The tip of his tongue began to slowly glide up and down into the sensitive flesh all across your pussy, you left a sharp gasp. It was almost an electric feeling. Then he buried his mouth into you and started to run circles inside you with his wet and hot tongue. You began to moan softly while twitching your legs a little.

His hands were gripping your thighs, pulling your body even closer to his mouth. You buried both of your hands into his dark hair, letting a deep moan. Oliver was massaging your flesh from the inside, he was eating you out, almost humming to himself. Then he returned to caress your sensitive clit. You arched your back and you let out whine, burying hands deeper into his soft locks, almost tugging them. He let out satisfied pant and you looked down at him.

Gosh, he looked absolutely breathtaking, giving you a glare back with his piercing blue eyes on a half-seen face between your legs. And all this was happening in his moonlit room, like in some dark fairytale. It gave you a jolt of pleasure to the point you almost came.

He accelerated his pace and pressure until you tilted back your head and let out a long moan. You began to buck your hips but his hands were holding you firmly it almost hurt. His tongue got sloppy and messy as he feverishly caressed you. You couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Oliver!..” you cried out his name, clenching his head with your legs, his strong hands released the grip.

He raised his head with lips and chin glistening in the dark, panting and smiling. He was looking at your bliss, the result of his work, with indescribable delight. Oliver looked absolutely stunning that way, being covered in your bliss that he gave to you. You had almost come for the second time at that view.

"I'm very glad that you liked it. And now," he leaned up to kiss you briefly on the lips, "It's time to go to bed. Sweet dreams, Y/N, tomorrow will definitely be a better day."

You were surprised that he wanted to end it, but you were barely thinking and were still beside yourself with bliss, so, as if in a fog, you pulled on your bathrobe, nodded to Oliver and left on fast but wobbly legs. It was like you were bewitched and you didn't do it all yourself, but at someone's behest.

Oliver smiled contentedly, falling back onto the bed.

"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience, but not to the point where he could completely control himself and not break into a rage that would just tear you apart if he met his desires utterly.

Thus, tonight it would be his hand again, but this was definitely for the last time. Tomorrow he would be counting on your hands and not only on them.

* * *

Tomorrow was definitely a better day. Your appetite had returned, Oliver secretly was moving to you plates with pastries and fruits. You smiled and happily ate everything he offered.

But what happened in the last few nights seemed to remain only there. During the day, there was some kind of different, still a little tense atmosphere. Except that the ambiguity was replaced by a more agitated expectation and intrigue. It was still difficult for both of you to do small talks when the pictures of previous nights were so vivid in your heads.

Tonight was going to be a busy night, because James and Elspeth's friends, numerous Henrys and their wives, came to Saltburn. You also knew many of them, so you spent the whole evening in lively conversations with the exchange of news over the past year, endlessly promising to send greetings to your parents. Oliver seemed to be a little lost, especially at dinner, but you were seated quite far from each other, so even if you decided to talk to him, you couldn't do it. But you nodded at him from the other end of the table, lighting up the whole evening with your smile. He felt much less alone from that moment onwards.

The dinner was sumptuous, and numerous flowers and candles rested on the dark mirrored table, the candlelight danced beautifully on the faces of wining and dining guests. You stole a glance at Oliver - God, how handsome he was in this evening tuxedo, did he know that? You had a growing desire to get alone with him, but you had absolutely no idea how you could do it unnoticeably, and generally... take the initiative. You wouldn’t go to his bathroom for the third time, would you?

The evening was followed by a karaoke night led by DJ Farleigh. Everyone was having fun, singing along and clapping each other, it didn't matter if someone sang noticeably badly or really very well. Although “uncle” Henry's performance to the song “Low" was already too much, especially at the moment when you almost got smashed by his thrown jacket.

"Good Lord, give me strength," you thought, and then changed your prayer, turning your head to the side at Henry's wife, who eventually got his jacket right in her face, "Although no, please better give this woman strength."

Felix had been gallantly pouring you wine half the evening, asking how your mood was, and made funny comments about the guests. Then Venetia came, you also had a drink with her and a lively talk, and then she and her brother went to stand in a corner while smoking cigarettes, hilariously dancing to karaoke songs. Elspeth walked and chatted charmingly with the guests, and James sometimes eagerly but out of pace clapped to the rhythm of modern dance floor hits with often dubious lyrics.

Oliver was sitting on the opposite couch almost all this time, drinking some kind of tropical long. You didn't talk to him much during karaoke, but the conversation with his eyes was more than enough. His expressive orbs alternated between looking at you and following your rolling gaze as you watched another Henry who was making another drunken joke. And then his eyes started to burn a hole in you more and more, but he still remained silent and did not approach. Okay. In a different state, you may had started overthinking it or getting upset again, but not now. Now you were drunk enough to perform some karaoke hit and tell him everything with it. Well, telling something, at least.

"Farleigh!" you shouted, pointing at him.

"Yes!" he poked his finger at you in response, holding the microphone.

"Toxic" by Britney Spears!" you said, calling out a few "o-o-o-ohs" from the audience.

"Great!" the DJ of the evening grinned, putting the right song and giving the microphone to you.

The familiar sounds of a sampled violin came in, and then your voice followed:

Baby, can't you see I'm calling?

A guy like you should wear a warning

It's dangerous, I'm falling

There's no escape, I can't wait

I need a hit, baby, give me it

You're dangerous, I'm loving it

You sang, turning to Oliver and looking into his eyes. He sucked his cocktail out of a straw and then put it on the floor without breaking eye contact with you.

Too high, can't come down

Losing my head, spinning 'round and 'round

Do you feel me now?

He was sitting on the couch in his smart black tux, leaning back slightly and spreading his legs wide. Oliver was listening to you so attentively, as if this was not a Britney song, but some kind of revelation addressed only for him to comprehend.

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slipping under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic?

And I love what you do

Don't you know that you're toxic?

He grinned at you. You started swinging your hips slightly while you were singing. Oliver licked his lips lightly.

It's getting late to give you up

I took a sip from my devil's cup

Slowly, it's taking over me

What a confession. Or was it a call?

You kept singing while everyone else supported you and sang along too. Farleigh danced to the beat of the music, and Felix and Venetia just had a separate party in the corner of the room, as if they were really at a Britney concert, and not karaoke party, where their friend finally decided to sing, being a little drunk. Elspeth and James, somehow in an old-fashioned, but a very sweet way danced sitting on the couch. All this support from the Cattons was especially pleasant and inspired me to sing the song even more boldly!

Intoxicate me now with your loving now

I think I'm ready now (I think I'm ready now)

Intoxicate me now with your loving now

I think I'm ready now

Yes, it was definitely a call. Oliver shifted on the couch, outwardly remaining calm, but deep inside he just had a storm of emotions and desires.

Artemis was luring her Actaeon again.

The living room burst with applause and cheering. It was not that you sang better than the original, but still, this song had already become an everyone’s favourite hit, which could not be disliked in any case. And you sang charismatically, not to mention your body movements. You scored 100 points! And to Oliver it was all 200.

You chatted for a while with Felix and Venetia and one of the Henrys, who jumped up to you, drank more wine after such brave karaoke performance, and then sneaked out of the room, realizing that you urgently need to use the restroom. Your head was a little dizzy, but you got to that very bathroom of yours which actually worked fine. Having done all the necessary things, you began to wash your face and stood for a long time at the sink with the faucet open, gradually coming to your senses. Ugh, you shouldn’t drink like that, otherwise it won't be clear if you can remember the rest of the evening. And you really wanted the most interesting things to be just ahead.

"Oliver!"

He was standing against the wall opposite the bathroom exit.

"How did you know that you... that I... that I would go here and not, say, to your bathroom again?"

"Very simply, Y/N. You're drunk right now, and thus, you will most likely reach the place that you are most familiar with. Like on an autopilot. I decided that you use your bathroom more often than mine."

You thought about it. Indeed, everything was so simple when he explained it. He must be much more sober.

It was a good thing you left before Farleigh decided to make Oliver sing karaoke. It was unexpected and humiliating, very humiliating, but he turned the situation in his favor by handing the microphone back to Farleigh at the most ambiguous moment of the song. Soon it would be Farleigh paying his own "Rent". Fortunately, no one read this subtext except the two of them. Oliver wasn't worried much about that right now, he had more important things to do tonight, so he went looking for you, fortunately, it wasn't difficult at all.

"So, you sing," he stated, pulling away from the wall and leisurely approached you.

"Not really, more like when I have a little drink, huh..."

"Are you feeling better now, Y/N?"

"Yes, much better, thank you," you said, still musing, "And also I sing when there is a good reason for it"

Oliver came close to you, and leaning into your ear, asked, "Am I a good enough reason?"

You looked into his eyes, "What do you think..." and reached out to kiss him. The taste of your wine mixed with the taste of his sweet strong cocktails. "It seems he drank more than I thought after all, how is he holding up so well?" you wondered, but soon you lost the thread of thought when his tongue, even more saturated with alcohol, penetrated your mouth.

With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride

You're toxic, I'm slipping under

With a taste of a poison paradise

I'm addicted to you

Don't you know that you're toxic?

Those lines from the song started spinning in your head again while your tongues were spinning in their own dance. You started to lose the feeling of the ground under your feet, but Oliver held you tight. But you still got to lean more on his sturdy body under that beautiful black and white suit.

Then, barely interrupting your kisses, you moved into your bedroom. It was lit by the moonlight, just like Oliver's bedroom last night. He began to take off your dress, gently kissing your shoulder. Then, you helped him undo your bra and stepped out of the shoes. At this time, he was taking off his tux without taking his eyes off you. He looked at you ecstatically from head to toe.

"Beautiful, so beautiful. Did I tell you that already?"

You nodded, smiling.

"I'll say it again. You're so fuckin’ beautiful," Oliver said with his deep sexy accent.

At these words, you became completely aroused and let out an inaudible moan, as he threw you on the bed, just like yesterday. After kissing you on the lips, he immediately went down on you, caressing your most sensitive part with his tongue and squeezing your hips harder than before. You shifted on the bed, entangling with his soft dark locks, and began to moan softly.

Oliver himself was also damn attractive, to say the least. His strong, slender stripped body covered yours, and only the chain was dangling on his neck. For some reason, this detail turned you on especially hard. Finally, you saw him completely naked, not just a couple of times in the tall grass, but right in your bedroom, when he was pressing you to the bed, towering over you. What a view.

His tongue was flicking over your clit, Oliver was almost moaning into your cunt as he eats you. You squeezed his head between your legs so hard, but he wouldn’t pull back. He was groaning and licking you relentlessly.

You were so close to orgasm, but he stopped and reached for your face, greedily kissing your lips with his shiny lips, this time for a long enough time so that you could taste your own arousal. It drove you crazy.

"Now you know just a little bit how delicious you are, Y/N," Oliver almost breathed those words right into your mouth.

He pulled himself up to you, and you felt his hard cock pressing against you. You put your hand on it, which made Oliver exhale sharply. Resting on his hands, he lifted up a little while you caressed it with your hand. He looked lasciviously at you, as your hand was moving up and down, stroking his dick. Then he hugged you and rolled over on the bed with you, and you were on top now. You sank lower, carefully wrapping your lips around his cock. He tilted his head back, mouth half open. The feel of your soft lips and warm tongue almost drove Oliver crazy. He put one hand in your hair, gently running it through.

"Yes, dear Y/N, that's it..."

"My sweet Y/N..."

Then you, without stopping your actions, looked him straight in the eyes. It was too much, and Oliver groaned and gently released you, turning you back down under him. His cock was harder than the steel of any sword that was in this manor.

"Do you know what is the best thing about a karaoke night, besides your amazing number?" asked Oliver and gave the answer himself, "It's that you can scream and moan all over the house, as loudly as you want. Or whatever I want it to be."

Those words flooded you with moisture, and at that moment Oliver entered you.

He gave you a moment to adjust to his size, his cock completely filling you up as he was buried deep inside of you. He exhaled, full of admiration and lust.

"Gods, Y/N, you’re so tight," he said breathlessly, kissing you. You started moaning into his mouth as he began to move. The pace of his hips was leisurely at the start, gently rolling into yours, your eyes were connected to each other. His strong arms caged your twitching body under him. It all felt so good you were afraid that you might just woke up from some kind of dream or fantasy that you had, thinking of Oliver and falling asleep.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as he increased his pace. Soon, the speed of his pounding becoming relentless as his panting and your own moans. You wrapped your legs around his body, nails digging into his back as you gave him the perfect angle to go even deeper into you.

“Fuck, girl, moan for me, yeah. Let the whole house know who is giving it to you, that pleasure,” Oliver’s hot whisper almost burned your skin.

You let out the loudest groan as he began slamming into you, driving to the edge of existence. The entire floor was really filled with your screams of pleasure, echoing in the dark. His hips slap against yours loudly, shaking the old bed. He clenched his teeth, watching the way your doe eyes look up at him, eyes were full of sensuality and desire. Oh, how beautiful and docile you were, he could not believe himself it was all happening at least.

You clenched around him and soon you arched your back, his name fell from your lips. He followed later soon, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he was doing last movements with his hips.

You went soft and limp under him as he panted with his hoarse voice in your ear. Oliver exhaled contentedly, triumphantly smirking.

You changed your position by lying down next to each other. For a while, you both just lay silently in bed, recovering your breath and feeling the spreading bliss to every cell of your bodies. Quick began to slowly and gently stroke and caress your body, leaving a weightless touch on your skin. He gently brushed two knuckles of his finger against your soft cheek.

"Oliver," you whispered into the darkness.

"Yes, Y/N?" he said, playing with your hair.

"Tell me, you've liked me since Oxford, haven't you? At first, I didn't even realise it, but in recent days I've been thinking so much about our acquaintance and how you looked at me then… So I thought it might be true..."

Oliver chuckled softly.

"Yes, my clever Y/N, you're absolutely right. I lost my head about you nearly as soon as I saw you. Seems you can't hide the truth from you."

You smiled, snuggling closer to him, "It's so good that you also got to Saltburn this summer," you mused, "Maybe, it is some kind of fate."

Oliver smiled at your words, gently tucking a lock behind your ear.

"Yes, I guess, it is."

The mixture of satisfaction, happiness and alcohol acted on you like a magic potion, and soon you peacefully fell asleep on his shoulder. Oliver was very glad that it was your room and you didn't have to be disturbed in any way. Saltburn had his own eyes and ears, it was not worth creating unnecessary rumors now. He wasn't in a position here to be able to afford it, at least, not now.

He kissed you gently on the temple and carefully left your bed, dressing up in his tuxedo and returning to the living room.

The fun continued. The hunt was a success.

#oliver quick x reader #saltburn #oliver quick x you #oliver x you #saltburn imagine #oliver #oliver quick #oliver quick smut #oliver quick imagine #saltburn 2023 #saltburn smut #saltburn x reader #saltburn x you #barry keoghan #barry keoghan smut #barry keoghan x reader #barry keoghan x you #barry keoghan imagine #felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton smut #felix #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #fanfiction #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #imagine #smut fanfiction

[luveline]

Hi! I just read Prince steve's shot of the steampunk au and god, I loved it. I saw below it said you could make a request for it, so I wanted to know if you could do one about the how they met. I know it's mentioned, but I'd like to see what it was like at the time, if it's not too much trouble.

PS: qmo how you write, you are one of my role models 💕.

prince!steve au ♡ fem, 1.1k

Young people stand like dominoes in the sun, teetering, waiting to topple in on one another if given reason. Nine days of bated breath, the city waits in a ramping anticipation for Prince Steven to meet his soulmate.

You're almost hoping it isn't you so you can go home and rest your aching legs. Hours in the warm summer air, your worst dress sticking to the back of your clammy knees. You're not fit to meet the Prince. But… if you meet the Prince, and you were to somehow be his soulmate, you'd live an easy life. 

You'd live in a Palace, wear the finest clothes, eat the nicest foods (three times a day!). You could spend your days lounging under crystal chandeliers eating plates of fruit and expensive cheeses, air-conditioned and always smelling of vanilla, or sandalwood, or saffron. You've never tried saffron perfume, but it's the most expensive at the apothecary. 

The line mills shorter. You follow close to the heels of a girl dressed in better finery, a cherry red dress that looks like it's made of thin sheets of glass, her dark hair coiled in sweet cherubic curls at the back of her neck. They bounce with every step you take closer to the pedestal. You attach your attention to them, following the winding twist of them to the root over and over. 

You want very badly to be the Prince's soulmate. You'd be stupid not to want such luxury. But letting yourself believe that it's you out of the tens of thousands of eligible young people is asking to feel disheartened.

You convince yourself for the millionth time that it's not you as you follow the line inside of the royal gardens. Trees with weeping branches arc inward, their leaves kissing and sunlight dappled onto the people below. You feel it warming your skin as you take the final stretch. 

Apparently, for the King's soulmate search, he simply held out his arm and let women touch the inside of his palm with their pinky finger. He did this for two days. Prince Steven's search is taking much longer, as he's insisted on greeting and shaking the hands of everyone who's presented themselves. 

You wonder what that might feel like. He's a super pretty man, with exactly the sort of smile a Prince might hope to have. Whenever you see him on the holo screens you feel sick, wanting desperately to remain indifferent to him, but knowing you're just like every other silly young person in the kingdom. You want to be a special perfect royal. You want to take his hand and leave behind your disappointing life. 

Too bad it's a fantasy. 

"Next, please," says a young woman with red hair, looking at you pointedly. 

You bite your bottom lip between your teeth and walk determined to the top of the garden. Up three gentle steps and into a Palace of white, pearly stone. There's a long corridor lined with guards who eye you as you draw in. Deemed decidedly undangerous, they let you pass into a makeshift reception. You'd already had your name taken to be allowed in the line; nothing stands in your way of the Prince but chiffon pink curtains that shine like rose honey in the sun and a surprisingly small girl with a sword. 

And there, among an audience of officials and important people, sits the Prince. He looks smaller than you imagined, a little tired. The girl with the sword kicks his shin and he perks up, to the ire of the older members of his court. 

"Hey," he calls, "don't be shy! And don't be slow, either. Please. I missed dinner last night–" The girl clears her throat. Prince Steven takes on a more princely effect. "Please, come in." 

The audience isn't exactly paying attention. Any hope they had for a soul mate today has seemingly passed, and you can hear a few poorly muffled scoffs at your appearance. Surely the girl before you posed a more pleasing possibility. She looked like a princess. 

You stall a few paces from him. 

He frowns at you. In his garb, his neat clothes, a heavy platinum crown atop his head, he's strangely intimidating. You assumed he'd feel more familiar up close, like buying a gemstone from the catalogues and finding they've sent you zirconium, but it's the opposite. 

"Are you okay?" the girl asks. 

"She's fine," Prince Steven says, standing up from his ornate chair. He steps down from the short platform, even his steps a princely brand of perfection. "Well you're more than fine," he says to you, and you gather from the get go that he's not flirting with you, only joking to ease your nerves. 

He offers his hand. 

You take in a breath and approach him with measured steps. Being run through by his personal guards crystal sword isn't on your agenda this week. 

All you have to do is touch his hand and go home when nothing happens. You're nervous, but stalling any longer prolongs the awkwardness you've created. 

You step forward. 

Before your fingers can touch his palm, the feathered lines curled around your opposite wrists begin to glow. 

A silence falls. 

You take your hand back but the light doesn't fade. It's white, nearly cream in colour, with the density of fog but none of its cold. Prince Steven's eyes are wide and awash, the sun-kissed skin of his arm paled. "You–" he says, stepping forward again. 

You take his hand. You have to know. 

White light sears and then blooms, like petals unfurling, the source of it indistinguishable from your wrist or his. And then, when you're sure your heart might fall out of your mouth, the light dims. What remains is thin as fairy floss wrapped around your skin and his. 

He rubs the meat of your thumb with the tip of his, and that light glows soft pink, like flower jam. 

"It's you," he says. He sounds happy, as though you were a pleasant surprise. 

You tuck your hand behind your back, and the glow remains. It's you. You're Prince Steven's soul mate. 

"She doesn't look much like a princess," someone whispers. 

"I wouldn't say that," Prince Steven says, his eyes roving over you without apology. His smile is as authentic as they come. "I think you'd better meet my mother." 

"Now?" you ask. 

"Afraid so. Don't worry, though, you look pretty." He offers his hand again. "Come on."

He's a prince. You take his hand.

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

[cillianhead]

Hey hey, I just found your blog and I really like your writing - especially Sitting Pretty since I'm a sucker for those Crane fics. :3

Would you maybe be up for some kind of comfort/fluff fic with Crane?

I am always up for some comfort/fluff when it comes to Dr Jonathan Crane. He's so babygirl <3

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.... thank you so much for your request!

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby || Jonathan Crane x Reader

warnings: none really, some brief mentions of violence, crying, angsty but also fluffy and comforting at the end, not really anything that bad to be honest, sort of non-canonical to anything that actually happened in the films.

It had been around a week since you had seen your boyfriend of three years. This was the longest you had gone without seeing Jonathan, without even hearing a peep from him. You even went to his work, he hadn't been there either. You knew what sort of dangerous work he did outside of Arkham and also within it, you knew the dangers and the risks he faced every time he left your apartment. You were still hopelessly devoted to him, despite the bad things that he has done and continues to do. You knew he would never hurt you. Him being gone felt like someone had ripped your heart out... like your soul was slowly being eaten away. Where was he? Was he even still alive? No. You mustn't think like that.

It was only a week, maybe he just needed some time away. Though he would've at least taken time off work, surely? His work told you he hadn't called in sick but he was supposed to be there. But he wasn't.

You hadn't cried. You found yourself growing more and more numb to the absence of Jonathan. It was like your body trying to reject a foreign object, trying to spit him out of your heart. It was painful and agonizingly slow, you knew you could never get over him, especially if you never got to say goodbye. His things lying around your apartment were a painful reminder of the fact he was gone. And he probably was never coming back.

You hadn't slept, at least not very well, in four days. You'd barely been eating either, maybe a stale cracker or two every now and then but you couldn't bring yourself to eat any proper meals. The best you could do was stare at the tiled wall as you stood in the scalding hot shower, trying to burn away the grief.

With the growing hunger and the fact you barely slept, paranoia was also sprouting within you, like some sort of sickly weed. You were worried that if Jonathan had been captured, whatever got him, was coming for you next. Every tiny little noise, every rumble, or car horn outside sent you running to the comfort of your shared bed. The one that smelt like him. You really couldn't sleep. Every shadow looked like some sort of evil horned figure ready to devour you whole, your eyes wide and frozen, helplessly full of fear. You thought about how Jonathan would assess this situation, how nerdy he got when you were afraid, in its own way you found it comforting the way he explained the body's reaction to fear and the way he explained the mind's power over the body.

The sleep you did get would be full of nightmares or vividly heartbreaking dreams. There was one you couldn't get over, a dream so sweet, more like a memory than anything else. Jonathan coming home from work, taking off his clothes and crawling into bed with you. His hands caressed your back softly, arms cradling you like you could shatter at any moment if he held you too tight. It felt so painfully real, that even when you began to wake up you could still feel him there. Still feeling his arms around you.

"Jonathan..." You whispered a sigh of relief, his arms pulled away from you as your heart raced with joy. Sitting up and looking around to find yourself just as alone as you had been for the past week. That's when you began to cry. "Jonathan..." You sobbed into your hands, you couldn't fall asleep after that. It was four in the morning, and the room was pretty much pitch black as you cried to yourself like a baby needing its mother.

Even more time passed. You were hysterical, you didn't pick up your phone when your friends called, you didn't leave the house, you didn't eat, and you most definitely didn't sleep. You were in bad shape, to say the least. It was that time of the year when the rain began to pour, your glass walls showed the bruised sky and the lightning it unleashed upon Gotham. You didn't work, Jonathan insisted on you staying at home, for him to provide for you. You were pretty happy staying at home and doing as you pleased. But now... it felt so different, there was no one to come home to you. You were pretty certain that the love of your life had died and you were going to spend the rest of your time alone. You knew you could never love again.

As if the sky knew how you felt, it only rained harder, it rained for days and it never stopped. You sat on the couch with a blanket draped over you as you lifelessly stared out at the dark sky. It was the middle of the night, and you thought about sweet nothings you and Jonathan shared. You thought about how lucky you were to see that side of him, so lucky you weren't on the other end, seeing the scarecrow, full of fear toxin. You thought about Jonathan humming while he made you pancakes, thought about the way he wrote you love letters almost every morning before he left for work, thought about the way you both were ready to get married soon. You remembered him holding your stomach while you brushed your teeth before bed and saying in that beautiful voice of his; "One day, you and I, are gonna have a bunch of beautiful babies and we'll live far far away from here. Everything will be perfect."

You sobbed and nothing brought you out of it. The pain in your chest was unbearable, no stupid fucking sad song or badly written poem could ever express it. There was no comprehensible word in any language that could truly explain away the agony you were in. You were no longer paranoid that something was going to come and hurt you, in fact, if there was someone or something out there coming to get you, you'd happily let it come in and put you out of your goddamn misery.

It was two soft raps on your bedroom window from the fire escape that caught your attention. You froze and stopped your crying, listening for it again, wondering if maybe you were just hearing things.

It's when you hear them again that you manage to stand up on shaky legs and wander into your bedroom that you see a shadow, leaning its weight against the window tiredly. It was him. With all the energy you could muster up, you ran to the window and slid it open before grabbing ahold of him and pulling him into your bedroom. You felt like you were going to have a heart attack.

"Y/N," Jonathan whispered. You didn't say a word, just turned on the lamp to light up the room. If this was a dream, you were going to try and enjoy every second of it. If this was the only way you could see your Jonny then you would take in every moment. "I... I missed you." And when you turned around, ready to scold him, ready to scream your lungs out at him for being gone, your heart broke all over again. His clothes were torn and covered in dried-up blood. Jonathan's neck was covered in bruises in the shape of handprints and his eyes were tired and void of any life. "Jonathan..." You whimpered, approaching him, he winced a bit as you placed your hands softly on his face. "Where have you been? What happened to you?" You were going to be angry at him before but now you understood... it wasn't his fault. He was soaking wet and you could see he had been crying too.

"I... I can't... really remember... I was drugged..." He mumbled, Jonathan's fingers curled around your waist and pulled you into a bone-crunching hug. He breathed you in, embracing you again was the only medicine he needed. Holding you was the only thing that could tell him was truly okay. "The Batman got me... I don't know how I managed to escape... just ended up here... I've been walking for days."

"Jonny..." You were crying as you sat him gently down on the bed. "I thought you..." You whispered. The strength was not in you to say it. "I thought you were..."

"Dead?" Jonathan croaked out, his voice was hoarse in a way that told you he had spent days on end screaming, from the torture he had been put through. "Yeah, me too." He said dryly.

You helped him undress. The clothes were pretty much useless so you tossed them on the floor in a pile to throw away later. "Let me clean you up..."

"No." He said. "Not right now..." Jonathan shook his head as he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest as you laid down in the bed with him again. "I just need to feel you..." His voice broke and in the process, your heart broke too. You could hear how defeated he was. "Need to feel you there." You understood, not saying another word as you clung to him. You listened to the sound of his heart, ear pressed right against his bare and bruised chest. You heard him sniffle, immediately causing you to pull away. "Oh, baby..." You cooed sadly, brushing a tear off his wounded cheek. The dam gates were open now as he began to cry, wincing at the salty tears mixing in with his busted face. "I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry that happened to you... I was so worried... you're here now... you're here with me... my baby."

"I thought about you every second," He sobbed. Jonathan looked like a helpless little child at that moment, his blue eyes were pitiful. "I thought I was going to die... thought I was never gonna get the chance to say goodbye to you..."

Together you sat crying, both with relief and sorrow as the rain poured outside, the heaven's crying with you. Everything felt okay again, for the both of you, now that you were with one another. "It's okay, Jonny." You tried to console him. Things had happened to him before, he'd been beaten up or caught in dangerous situations but he usually came home shrugging it off, this time you could tell he was severely traumatized, you could tell this was going to take a while for him to get over. Jonathan had that thousand-yard stare, that mischievous fire that usually lit up his eyes had been extinguished and now reflected the dreary weather outside. "I love you, baby, it's okay... nothing's ever going to hurt you again." You whispered, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. You kissed him as gently as you could, knowing his lip was swollen and split open, you could taste the metallic blood from his mouth and the saltiness of his tears.

"Y/N..." Jonathan wept, his face now buried in between your neck and your jaw. "It hurts." The tone of his voice was the most heart-shattering thing you'd ever heard.

"I know, my baby," You hushed as you laid back down again, caressing his hair that was still wet from the rain. "Nothing will ever hurt you again." You reassured once again. "Nothing's going to take you from my side."

You cried your own tears of sadness, relieved he was back in your arms, relieved that you were there to take care of him and nurse him back to health. The morning sun had begun to rise by the time you two had properly nestled into your bed, skin pressed together, legs intertwined. Jonathan slept in your arms, you held him like a baby, you couldn't sleep, too happy to have him in your arms again.

"As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine..." You whispered softly into his hair.

-

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #Jonathan Crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #scarecrow x reader #batman #batman begins #batman dark knight #batman the dark knight #the dark knight rises #the dark knight trilogy #christopher nolan #christian bale

[farfromstrange]

Customer Service | Matt Murdock

Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!reader

Summary: After a particularly rough week, all you want to do is cry. It has you on edge and makes you say things you don’t mean. After letting out your anger on your boyfriend, he makes it his mission to take care of you for a change.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), Matt Murdock eats pussy like a champ, fingering, squirting (I feel filthy), emotional hurt/comfort, no use of y/n, no pronouns, reader has female body parts, 1st person pov (?)

a/n: As someone who quit their job in customer service for the exact same reasons I have stated in this fic, this is very personal to me and self-indulgent, again. I wrote this after a particularly bad day. Sometimes I wish Matt were real so he could actually do this to me.

There is nothing in all of existence that I loathe more than people. Why I chose to work in customer service in the first place has become more and more of a mystery to me. I could have quit after the first week, I should have, but whenever the thought crosses my mind, I tell myself: ‘It’s going to get better. You will get used to it.’ I did not, in fact, get used to it. Or, I did, I just started to hate myself even more. Every day I get home from an eight-hour shift, I’m tired, I’m exhausted and I feel the desperate need to throw myself off a cliff. 

There are days when it’s easier. The elderly couple who comes in every Sunday, for example, to drink their coffee and have a lengthy conversation over a piece of cake, never fails to make me smile. They’re always kind, and forthcoming and they tip, even though I know they don’t have the money to.

Or the woman who likes to pick up lunch for her husband, she always calls me sweetheart, and she’s never bothered if her order takes just a little too long. The regulars chat me up and I like it because it makes me feel less alone behind the counter, as life passes me by and I can’t help to stare at the clock every five minutes to calculate how many hours of the day are left. They make it easier to forget about the overtime I inevitably have to put in every night. They know I don’t eat enough or smile enough or drink enough, and so they make me smile because they’re good people. 

But some continuously want to tell me how to do my job, the one I’ve given blood and sweat for to master down to the smallest detail, and those who treat me like I’m responsible for their bad days and those who don’t care that I’m human, I just have to serve.

It’s so exhausting that some people don’t care about the workers behind the counter. I hate that my boss doesn’t seem to care either, that we don’t get paid enough, and that I’m expected to jump whenever they want me to. I got a life too, but that doesn’t matter because I’m cheap and they love to use those who never learned how to say no.

I physically can’t tell them I can’t work whenever I’m asked to pick up an extra shift, or when I’m sick or have to do anything else. It’s not even my main occupation and yet, here I am! Every day, I tell myself, I should just quit. It’s not my responsibility if they can’t treat their employees right. It’s not my responsibility they’re understaffed. I’m a student, I go to college, and I’m working hard on my degree - why should I prioritize my job over the thing that will determine the rest of my life? 

And yet, every day, I go back. I go back and I work until my feet hurt and I’m sick and I’m tired and all I want to do is just cry. I go back because I, for the life of me, can’t say no. I can’t quit. I want to, but I can’t, and it’s killing me inside that I can’t talk about it the way I want to. In the end, I will always feel like everything is my fault and that I messed up, even though all I did was show up to work and turn into everyone’s punching bag. 

My stupidity is what got me here. Usually, I would be home now, studying, but they asked me to pick up a late shift at the cafè again, and I worked for seven hours with only a fifteen-minute break in between - I look horrible, I smell of coffee and cake, and my body is hurting in all the wrong places. The weight is heavy in my stomach. I’m nauseous. I ate, but not enough. I’m hungry. I feel sick. Even the smallest sounds make me want to jump up the wall, kill someone, or perhaps even both. I’m angry, and I don’t even fucking know why because nothing happened. Other than a rather messy day with too much to do and too few people to do the work, the people weren’t even rude and I’ve had worse days - still, I feel everything at once and it’s ridiculous, really, because I’m an adult and I should know better than to let a rough day affect me. I don’t. 

When he called and asked if I wanted to come over, I said yes. I didn’t want to, but saying no? Not something I would do, especially not to him. I walked into his apartment with a lump already in my stomach. The door creaked - God, I told him to oil it - and that was the first strike. I tossed my key into the bowl and it promptly fell back out. Second strike. My coat slipped from the hanger the second I hung it up. Third strike. I breathed, I had to, then went to the kitchen to make some dinner. Cooking usually works, usually, but the day must have gotten to me because the fourth strike - the fucking milk being expired - happened way too soon and it hit me, hard. After that, I was pretty much done for, and I knew, I just chose to ignore it. 

Of course, I should have known I would screw up everything else, too.

“Hey, sweetheart,” his voice is kind and soft in my ear as he presses a kiss to my cheek. His stubble has never been something to bother me before until that very moment. I flinch away, not sure why. If he realized it - which I’m sure he did - he doesn’t show. 

“Smells good,” he says. 

I put the garlic into the pan. It smells too much like garlic and I hate it. 

“What you making?”

“Pasta,” I tell him. 

He kisses me again. “Mh-hm. How was your day?” the question is stupid, but it’s normal and he always asks. He gets himself a beer - only himself - removes the cap with his mouth and then leans against the counter. 

He shouldn’t infuriate me. He shouldn’t make me angry just by standing there and asking me questions couples ask themselves, but inevitably, he does. And I hate myself all the more for the way my voice sounds when I answer him. 

“Fine,” I say. 

“Fine?” he asks. “How was work?” I feel like he’s getting suspicious. “You only had two lectures today, right? English lit and what was the other one?”

“Linguistics.”

“Ah, yes. Your least favorite.”

Perhaps that’s why I’m angry. 

“You know,” he says and the tangent he goes on after revolves around him and only him, and while I don’t like talking about myself, that doesn’t mean he has to unload all of his stress on me - I don’t know why I think that way and it’s scaring me because I don’t actually feel that way, but at that moment I do and it’s all very confusing.

I just want to lock myself in his bedroom and cry. He looks so good with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up. He’s wearing his glasses, still, but his tie is loosened and he smiles because he knows I love that smile. I should love it. I should love the way his muscles tense underneath his shirt or the way his dress pants hang impossibly low on his hips, but for the first time, I don’t. I don’t love anything, I just feel anger, which makes me hate everything, but mostly myself. 

I must have zoned out. Suddenly, he’s calling my name and he’s calling me sweetheart and he’s poking me with his hands - no, he’s stroking my hips, hugging me from behind, and it’s all too much. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I lie. He knows I’m lying. He can hear it in my heartbeat. He can feel it in the way I move away from him to rinse the now-empty pan in the sink. 

How is the food already finished?

“You didn’t listen to a word I just said,” he dares to sound offended. 

“No, I did.”

“Really, what did I say?”

“You and Foggy had a case, didn’t go well, bla bla bla. Same as every day.”

He sets the bottle down. “Alright, sweetheart, what’s wrong? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Oh, so just because I don’t care about hearing the same story repeat itself every day and you whining about it means there’s something wrong with me?”

He’s taken aback. Quite frankly, I’ve never snapped at him before, not like this, not out of nowhere, and we’ve been dating for over a year. With his super senses, there is little that eludes the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, especially when it comes to his girlfriend. I hate that it’s like this. I hate not having any privacy, even when I try to. But I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want privacy. Or, I think. I don’t even know what I want. I know I want to be around him, but at the same time, it hurts because the anger is too damn hot to swallow, and his concern doesn’t make it any better. It should be, but it’s not. I’m a lost cause. 

“I was just telling you about my day,” he says. I would yell back at myself if I were him, but he knows me. He knows yelling doesn’t help. He knows I’d cry, but maybe that’s what I want. Maybe I want him to yell just so I have a valid reason to cry, to be angry. 

I want him to hate me the way I hate myself. 

That’s why I can’t help it anymore. “Maybe I don’t want to hear about your day.”

“What?”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Matthew!”

He’s confused. I don’t blame him. The second the words left my mouth, I regret them. They make me sound like the most selfish person on the whole planet. I can’t take them back though. If I did, he’d know something is wrong and then he’d worry, he’d pity me and no, I don’t want that. I want to rile him up. I’m not sure why, but it makes me so angry that he’s so calm and I’m… well, I’m me, but I’m also not me. I’m a stranger in my own body. 

I put the pasta in a bowl. It stinks of alcohol and tomatoes and garlic, too much of it. I wonder how anyone could eat that. 

“Here,” I shove it into his hand, “You’ve been served. I’m gonna take a shower.”

I’m a bad person. I’m pretty sure I am. Who yells at their boyfriend because they can’t deal with their own problems? Who makes the person they love more than life itself feel like shit on purpose for no reason whatsoever? A sane person wouldn’t. We have never been a normal couple, Matthew and I, but we’re trying. Turns out, I suck much more than I thought I would.

It’s not the age gap, I’m sure of it. I’m in my last year as an English Major and he’s a defense attorney. Somehow, we make it work. He loves me, I know he does. He’s afraid of rejection - he thinks everyone he loves will leave him, which is why it took us a while to find together. I should have known my words were going to hurt him unimaginably. He thinks he did something wrong, but it’s not him. It’s never him. He’s damaged, but he’s nothing if not perfect to me, most of the time. 

I’m heavily crying at this point, trying to conceal my sobs, but it’s not working. The water is loud, not loud enough to fool Matt’s hearing, but even if he were to hear it, he knows better than to provoke me any further. He doesn’t know what’s going on and neither do I, so it’s just the two of us silently waiting for the other to come around. He shouldn’t have to feel that way. And so I cry more because God, I do not deserve that man. I don’t deserve his kindness or his love. I don’t. I really, really don’t. 

And once I’m out of the bathroom, I remember why I don’t deserve him. 

The table is set for two. Candles substitute for the harsh ceiling light. He knows it gives me headaches sometimes. He put a bowl out for me and a glass of wine. White wine. The sweet kind. The kind he hates but keeps around in case I ever need a glass. He’s drinking red wine. It’s cheap, but it looks expensive and he likes to feel special from time to time. 

I hug my arms around my body. He has his back turned to me, fixing a salad in the kitchen - I must have forgotten it. The way he moves is almost angelic. He moves as if nothing happened, as if I didn’t just treat him like a bitch. He’s singing my favorite song or humming it, anyway. The room smells of him and me and the food I loathed before, but watching him do all of this for me, even now, is sucking the air out of my lungs and suddenly, I don’t mind the thought of eating with him.

I only want one thing. I don’t want to ask for it and he’s not going to do anything unless I talk. We agreed on that from the beginning, no matter what kind of intimacy it involves. Without consent or a proper conversation, nothing will happen. And I curse myself for not being able to speak without the tears blocking my view again. 

“There’s a sweater on the couch,” he states. He knows I’m cold. “And some fuzzy socks, if you want.”

The clothes smell like him. 

“I put some more salt in the pasta. I think you forgot to salt the water, so I took it upon myself. I hope you don’t mind. Also, I tried to make your favorite salad dressing, but I’m not sure if I managed to get it right this time.”

He smiles and then his glasses are gone and he has an apron on and he looks like he loves me, really loves me, and that’s it. I pull my legs up to my chest, falling deep into the couch and I cry. All the pain just comes exploding out of me like an active volcano. 

The leather dents next to me. “Comfort or solution?” he asks. It’s so casual, I get the feeling he’s not mad at me. 

“I don’t know,” it sounds so broken.

His arm finds around my shoulder. “Is this okay?” I can only nod. Yes.

He moves me gently so I’m in his lap and he can rock me like a baby. It feels good to be loved like this, but it’s also suffocating. Still, I can’t help but fall deeper into his hold because this is, in fact, all I needed. Too stubborn to ask for it, I almost ruined something good. I know I did. He knows, too, but unlike me, he knows the difference between me being mad at him and being mad at the world. He knows I don’t mean what I say unless we’re fighting, and this isn’t it. We’re not fighting. I’m just angry and I want to cry, even while crying, and that makes me cry even more. 

“You want to talk about it?” he asks once I can finally breathe again. 

I blow my nose like a disgusting person and say, “Yes. No. I don’t know. Maybe.” And that about sums up all of my life. 

“Is it school?”

I shake my head. If it’s not school, it can only be one other thing. 

“Work?”

I nod. 

“Anything happen or just a bad day?”

“Bad day.”

“That’s why you yelled at me? I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“No,” I say truthfully for the first time. “I’m just angry. I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Maybe next time try telling me though. I was actually scared I did something until I heard you cry in the shower.”

I don’t know what’s wrong with me and I tell him that, to which he only chuckles. 

“You know how many times I acted hostile towards you after a long day?” he says. “It happens. It’s okay.”

“I just… I’m so stressed all the time. I hate work and I hate people and I hate not getting paid enough or on time, but I can’t quit because you know, I’m me and they know that, so they take advantage of my inability to say no, and it sucks because I’m so tired of working more than I go to school, but I need the money, and so I can’t leave until I’ve found another job, but no one else wants me, so now I’m here, trying to see the good in this stupid job, but I don’t. I can’t. I hate it. I hate everything and everyone and I hate myself and I think I’ll get my period soon because this should not be upsetting me this much.”

His hand on my back manages to soothe me. 

“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it.

He smiles down at me, all loopy, and his sightless eyes are focused somewhere on my forehead, which makes everything so much better. 

“I love you.”

And yes, I love him too. I love him so fucking much, it hurts. 

“I love you too, Matty.”

As soon as I say his name, he knows what I want. He knows I need to destress. He knows I can’t eat until I can forget. 

“Is there something I can do?” he asks, but damn him, he already knows. 

“Can you…” no, I can’t ask him for that.

“Yes?”

“Matt, can…” No. “You know what, never mind.”

“No, sweetheart. Tell me. What do you need?”

“I just…” my chest heaves a frustrated groan. “IneedyoutoeatmeoutuntilIcantremembermyname.”

He enjoys it. He gets off on it, my desperation. “Sorry, what?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t think I did. Can you repeat that?”

“God.” My face is burning. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just, this is the first time you actually asked me and I love hearing you ask for the things you want. It’s sexy.” 

Somehow, that’s even worse. My thighs clench like I’m some pathetic little schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher. 

“You know, maybe you can ask for a raise tomorrow, or quit altogether,” he says. “But for that to work, you have to tell me what you want right now.”

“I asked you to eat me out until I can’t remember my fucking name!”

“Thank you. Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

If there is one thing Matt Murdock is incredibly skilled with, it’s his mouth. And I don’t just mean the words that come out. Essentially, it’s all in his tongue. He’s managed to render me speechless on more than one occasion, and he knows. He knows I love when he touches me, but there are times when it has to be about me, and only me, and he’d gladly suffocate between my thighs. He’s told me that time and time again.

He keeps telling me to ask him if I want something. I never do. I hate asking for it because it’s embarrassing. It’s good that he knows what he’s doing, that bastard because if he didn’t, I wouldn’t be cumming and I wouldn’t tell him. Somehow he always gets the job done, no matter how stressed I am. 

That’s why I need it so badly. I need him to take care of me, no matter how long it takes. I know it might take a while because I’m tense and he knows too. He reads my body like an open book. That’s how he knows I’m horny before I even do. 

He doesn’t move for another minute. He just stares at me. “You want me to take care of you?” he asks.

“Please,” I beg. 

“Guess I’ll have dessert before dinner today then.”

He lifts my head and then he’s suddenly on top of me. He’s sliding me up the couch so he can fit in between my legs. I’m dressed in shorts, a t-shirt, and his sweater and for a second I wonder if it’s even worth it. I’m ovulating, I’m bloated. I feel like shit. My hormones are all messed up. I can feel the weight of my boobs tear on my back and I’m pretty sure the hairs on my legs prickle his cheek as he kisses them. It’s making me want to take back everything I asked of him. 

My confidence has taken a low blow this past week. 

Though Matt doesn’t care, he never does. He digs his nose between my thighs and takes the longest whiff I’ve seen him take in a while. To be fair, the last time we saw each other, he was busy with work. We didn’t have time for intimacy, which hardly ever happens. He moans. 

Smug bastard.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells me. It melts my heart. The compliment means so much more knowing he can’t physically see me. To him, I’m beautiful. He couldn’t care less about what I looked like. Although sometimes I wonder what picture he has made up of me in his mind. 

His lips are on mine fast. I can’t help but sigh. They’re so soft. He doesn’t rush, he just kisses me and then kisses me some more. I tangle my hands in his hair. I’m sure, this is what heaven must be like.

“Let’s take this off.” His sweater joins my shorts on the floor. “May I?” He hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of my panties. “Or do you want me to keep them on?”

I have no doubt he could do it with five layers in between and still make me cum.

“Off,” I say. I want this. I have to remind myself that my insecurities mean nothing – he loves me. He wants to do this for me. He wants to do this because he likes it, or else he would say it. 

Matt is vocal, but I’m not. If he doesn’t want to do something, he’ll say. Can’t say the same about me, which is why he asks repeatedly, even after I already told him it’s okay. He wants to make sure I’m on board, that I don’t feel pressured and can pull out any time I want, but I don’t, because the second the cold air hits my bare cunt, all I want is him. 

I can feel his eyes searching for me. “Hey,” he says my name. “We’re not playing this time, okay? You can cum when you need to and how many times you want to. You just have to lay back and relax. I’ll take care of you.” 

He intertwines our fingers on either side of my spread thighs before he dives into me. It’s slow and steady. He doesn’t care about fucking me with his tongue like he usually does. He licks and bites, but mostly, his tongue and lips stay around my clit and they suck. They suck so good, I see stars behind my eyes. His touch sends shocks down my spine. My sensitive walls clench around thin air, but his head is so far between my thighs, I still manage to feel full. 

But no matter how hard I try, I can’t focus. It feels so good, way too good, and on any other day, I would’ve come by now. His beard burns into the inside of my thigh as I rock against him. I try to, but it’s exhausting. I can feel the coil in my lower belly clear as day, and yet it’s too far out of reach. I need it, I crave it. 

I can hear myself saying, “This could take a while.” And he laughs because he finds it funny. It’s not funny though, it’s serious. I hate the fact that he makes me feel so good and I can’t find it in myself to enjoy. 

“Close your eyes,” his breath fans hot against my folds. “And just stop thinking.” 

He makes it his mission to ruin me. I close my eyes and as soon as I do, he’s on me. It’s not just his mouth. One of our joined hands reaches up to touch my breast – he twists my nipple through the shirt until it’s hard and has his attention. The other reaches behind me and lifts my hips. The next thing I know, he has me propped up on a pillow. The muscles in my lower back relax. I sigh. It’s so good. 

He’s given up on slow and steady. His head moves in circles as he abuses – I don’t have another word for it – my clit and eats the rest of me like a man starved. I realize I need it fast and I need it hard. He knows it before I do. His tongue expertly parts my wet folds, a mix of arousal and spit trickling down my thighs, but I could care less. He’s inside of me and then his thumb is there and it’s rubbing and rubbing and rubbing and I’m so fucking close, the knot in my stomach feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, and it’s applying sweet, sweet pressure on cunt. 

“Fuck!” I throw my head back into the leather. My back arches impossibly high, and his head squished tightly between my thighs. I need him closer. His hair is so soft, it makes me want to cry, and I do. I cry, but not in a sad way. I cry out because yes, God yes! and then I’m cumming, suddenly and without warning, hard, all over his face, and it doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop.

The growl is animalistic. It vibrates perfectly through my pussy and I can’t help it – it barely takes two minutes until his lips start hurting so good as they keep sucking my clit, a series of ‘one more’ leaves his lips in a plea, and I’m rocking against him hard. I’m begging him, “Matt,” but I’m not sure what for. 

“C’mon,” he says, “you can give me one more.”

He’s right. God, I hate when he’s right. My toes curl and I push his face so deep into me, I’m convinced he’s running out of air, but that’s what makes him moan and it sends me over the edge.

I’m pretty sure I passed out. The pleasure is so intense, my stomach feels like it’s being torn apart and then put back together. The world is dark and for the first time today, quiet. 

Something nudges my cheek softly. It’s his hand. Matt kisses me and I can taste myself on his lips. “Hey,” he coaxes me back into lucidity. “There you are. Are you okay?”

I nod.

“You need anything?”

It’s a reflex, reaching for him. He gasps slightly when my hand touches between his thighs, expecting to find a visible bulge, but there is none. I’m not sure if it’s my mind playing tricks on me, but there is a visible wet spot where his dick is supposed to be. 

“Did you-“ I finally open my eyes. He looks so drunk in the candlelight. I realize then that he is drunk on me. 

He buries his head in my neck. “You’re not the only one who’s been worked up all week,” he says. 

“You just- oh, my God.” I never thought it possible that it could be enough for him. “Thank you.” 

“No, thank you. You’re always so good to me. Good girl. But I think-“ his finger steals my breath as it circles my entrance and promptly slips it inside of me. “You can cum for me again.” 

I arch into him. My chest brushes against his. Our shirts suddenly feel like too much clothing and I’m desperate, so I tear at the buttons until they come apart. He has his arm back underneath me, holding me flush against him as if he’s afraid I might slip away. 

A wanton moan escapes me. “That’s it,” and his praise is even better. “Think you can take another one?”

He adds a second finger. It burns but only because even after a year, I’m still struggling to take any part of him. His fingers are thick and they’re rough and they’re scratching my inside walls just right. They massage the flesh. He’s pumping his fingers in and out and in and out, and he adds his thumb back on my clit because he knows I won’t be able to cum without it.

All of the stress falls off my shoulders. I feel him everywhere, his kisses, his touch, his hard nipples against mine. He’s hard again, poking against my thigh. I reach for him and he whines, he whines into my mouth. I’m not sure which one of us will come first. I suppose it’s me, it’s always me. He makes sure it will be me.

He hits as deep as he possibly could. His fingers curl inside of me and then, “There it is!” Is so victorious, it makes my eyes roll back. He keeps hitting that particular spot over and over again. My hand clutches his shoulder. I want to scream, but all that comes out is a series of whined and pathetic moans. I can’t help it, my muscles contract around him. 

“Damn, you’re gonna break my fingers,” he says. His chuckle is breathless. “You close?”

I hum.

“Do me a favor,” and I expect him to tell me anything but what he requests, “Don’t cum.” 

It’s rude. It’s cruel and it’s vile and I want to murder him because just as he says it, the coil tightens impossibly tight and I need to let go. It’s painful to hold it in, especially now. But I do as he tells me nonetheless. I want to please him. 

“Matt,” I moan. He’s so unfair and he knows it.

He smirks. “Just hold on a little longer.”

“I can’t!”

“Yes, you can. I know you can.”

“St- oh, fuck!” He hits my sweet spot with twice the intensity. I almost cum, but only almost. I keep it together, no matter how much it hurts, and it’s making tears prick at my eyes. “Please, just let me cum,” I hate begging him. “Please, Matty.”

“Shhh. We’re almost there.”

His thumb speeds up. I can see heaven. God is reaching his hand out for me. My stomach is in a tight knot, so tight, the silk might rip any second. The pressure is unreal. My muscles have been trained by him, I admit, but nothing can prepare you for this. Nothing can prepare you for the times when Matt has his mind set on something and he’s going to take it. He’s going to take you. 

I can’t think. It’s too much. I know I’m going to disappoint him. The animal inside of me is beyond satisfied and she wants out. She wants to let go. She loves the feeling of his fingers buried to the hilt inside of her. She loves him, and loving him tends to turn into sweet, sweet torture.

I moan his name again. His cock twitches underneath his dress pants, hot against my fingertips. 

“Almost,” he promises. “I just want to try something.”

What could he possibly want to-

“Cum.”

I’m flying. My back lifts off the couch and if it wasn’t for him, I would be dead by now. My body is shaking. It’s earth-shattering and it’s wet and it’s everywhere. I can feel the orgasm tearing me apart from the inside, blood rushing in my ears. My senses go black. I can’t see, feel or breathe. Everything is too much. It’s burning, it’s heavy, but it’s amazing.

His fingers don’t stop until he has milked the last drop of me until even the last ounce of stress has left my body and I’m limp. I’m a corpse. I’m barely breathing, a wet sack of potatoes in his arms. 

God, the look on his face. He’s cumming too. The wet patch on his pants has doubled. It’s not from me, although I’m suddenly very aware of the fact of what he just made me do.

“Oh.”

“Fuck,” he growls. “That was amazing.”

I never expected to have it in myself. “Oh, Jesus.” My words are highly blasphemous but I don’t care. I’m not even sure how to feel. The blush creeps up my cheeks and I close my legs a little. Everything is so wet. It’s all me and some of him, but mostly me. Just spurts of cum all over his hand and his couch.

He clicks his tongue, shoving my thighs apart. “Don’t go shy on me now,” he says.

“No, it’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing? Sweetheart, I’ve never felt more proud of myself.”

“I just- your couch. Oh, God.”

“I’m pretty sure the couch will survive it. Leather is easier to clean. How do you feel?”

I sigh, snuggling against his chest. “Better,” I have to admit. “Much, much better.”

“Good.” He kisses my neck. “Can I have my fingers back now?”

“No.” I like the feeling of him inside of me, even if it’s just his fingers. It makes me feel complete, almost. 

“Okay.” 

“Just gonna rest my eyes now.”

“You do that, sweetie. I’ll be here.” 

And he is. He always is. I wake up, and he’s there, and he always will be because he promised me this is forever. Us. Me and him. And I realize then that I’ve never been more in love with another person than I am in love with Matt Murdock.

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x afab!reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil smut #smut #fluff #matt murdock angst #hurt/comfort #stress relief #I hate customer service with a passion #I also hate retail #I hate work in general #Matt Murdock rail me challenge

[elsweetheart]

Dealer!ellie with a reader who bites affectionately

me 💕💗💕🎀💗💕💋🎀💕💗

lovebite.

🎀 pretty short n sweet. biting, use of weed, very slight mention of smut if you squint really hard.

“ah fuck, babe.” ellie winced. she was sat on the edge of the bed, rolling on the tray on her lap. you, were clad in pyjamas strewn on the bed behind her sinking your teeth into her back through her shirt. “are you fuckin’ biting me?” she curved her back in, focus still on her roll.

“mhm. means i love you.” you swallow the saliva that had gathered in your mouth from trying to chomp her.

“in what world.” she comment, no stranger to your bizarre antics. you giggled, sitting up behind her and putting your legs either side her body like you were a backpack, letting your feet dangle off the bed.

“my world.” you were careful of the tray on her lap when you wrapped your arms around her waist, jaw widening once more before sinking your teeth into her shoulder. you were softer this time, and she didn’t at all mind the soft wet feeling on your mouth on her.

“help, my girlfriends eating me.” she deadpanned, bringing the paper up to her mouth to lick the seal. you removed your mouth, turning your cheek to rest on her shoulder looking at her gorgeous profile.

“you eat me all the time.” you accuse and she smirks out a chuckle, lifting her eyebrows as if to say ‘fair enough.’

“i suppose so, in a different way.” she pats her pocket, grabbing her lighter from it. “scooch.” she nods back to the bed and you do so, letting her place her tray aside and prop herself up on your pillows, laying against them. her arm extends to pull you down by her side to lay against her chest as she lights her zoot. you knew your sheets would smell like weed afterwards, but it was nothing the laundromat couldn’t fix. she wrapped her arm around you as she inhaled, bringing her arm to rest below your mouth. “there, bite away to your hearts content.” her voice was strained slightly from holding the smoke and you did so, sinking your teeth back into her pale slightly freckled skin.

she blew smoke up away from you, before glancing down at your head getting to work on her arm. “should’a left you at the zoo, huh.” she comment, in reference to one of your first dates.

“heeeey.” you whine, but it’s muffled by her arm between your teeth. you pulled it back to look at your work, her skin dented, wet and flushed pink.

“you leavin’ me some good bite marks? hey maybe i’ll get one of them tattooed. that would be pretty sick, right?” she conversed, holding up her own arm into her own line of vision to inspect. you pulled it back down to your mouth greedily, ellie chuckling at your excitement as you found a fresh spot to bite. “ah, my little vampire.”

#anon #dealer!ellie #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams prompt #ellie williams blurb

[dojunie]

MISDIAL; LJN [CH5] VOICEMAIL REDUX

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

chaptered

very slow burn

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven

warnings for this chapter; kys mention in joking manner

chapter wc: ...13K

a/n: i couldn't decide between posting this monster whole or cutting it into two parts, but two parts kind of makes the pacing weird, so here she is in all her glory! been editing this so long that i've gotten sick of looking at it so im just going to release it into the world now LOL, pls pls pls give me feedback on this chapter, im not 100% satisfied w it but i cant tell if its because it sucks or i've just been rereading it too much 🥸

current tl: @hibernatinghamster / @jenoxygen / @eaglesnotravens / @donutswithjaminthemiddle / @jvjsssnaa / @huangrenhyucks / @luvenshiti / @shiningdery / @jaeminsbebu / @aliceinwhateverland / @bebsky / @gem-gem / @jkjkseo / @jenosbliss / @pewpewpwe00 / @ti–red / @philanarose / @softbbyg0rl / @aaasteroidsky / @carelessshootanonymous / @en-boyz / @jlsavyy / @roseymerrie / @bangchanisemo / @skuezk / @jaehyuns-adorable-dimples / @ourbeautifulaffair / @jeonnyread / @jvjsssnaa / @episkeyjeno / @bockhyun / @jenojammin / @zarastrawberry / @peachie-bear / @itadaramaterasu / @alymii / @cuteejeno / @episkeyjeno / @nohunlee / @ooojisoo / @luv4jeno / @jydivrs / @pinkysinnerbaby / @jenojenoyes / @maeyoung / @axmdocs / @nctzennikki09

.

.

.

FORGET WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT NEVER BEING ABLE TO GET MAD AT SOMI, BECAUSE THIS TIME, YOU’RE REALLY GOING TO KILL HER.

At this exact moment in time, the Aegon Showcase is set to begin in about fifteen minutes. You’ve got half of a chocolate muffin stuffed into your mouth (courtesy of Somi sneaking a few snacks from the audience lounge, since the dancers technically weren’t supposed to be eating any of the guest refreshments), and you were about halfway through swallowing this chunk of bread when Somi said something that made you nearly choke.

For context: six and a half days have passed since you’ve last spoken to Jeno.

And you haven’t been counting, either. It just so happens that it is surprisingly easy to recall every passing minute when each one feels like it’s been put there specifically to test you.

The afternoon after the Balcony Incident, for example— a few fresh hours after you left Lee Jeno behind on that overlook with the full intention of never looking him in the eyes ever again. After a late breakfast with Somi you’d told her you weren’t feeling too well, that you’d be leaving a little earlier than planned (which, even though you’d said your pain was of the intestinal variety, wasn’t untrue; you didn’t feel well, if the widening pit in your stomach caused by that morning was anything to go by) and departed her penthouse a little after one. 

You’d foolishly hoped that Jeno and his entourage would have plans literally anywhere other than Mark’s place for once, wanting to do nothing but silently mope around the apartment for a few hours once you'd gotten home, but you’d been naive.

You’d been so, so naive.

“Oh!” you’d heard. Renjun. Brown hair, big dark eyes peeking at you around the doorframe as you cradled your now-aching nose bridge. You opened the front door and crashed face first into something solid. “Hey, you. Perfect timing. Do you wanna come grocery shopping with us? Jaemin’s cooking tonight!”

“We’ll even let you ride in the cart,” Chenle chimed in from further into the hallway, grinning wickedly, but you couldn’t focus on either of them because they were both half-hidden behind what you’d smashed into with your haste to get inside. No gray flannel this time, but the same unreadable expression on his face as he, much like he did at the party last night, instinctively grabbed you to keep you from falling on your ass.

(Or his expression was unreadable. Until his eyes trained on something about your face that he didn’t like and his dark eyebrows furrowed with something akin to concern. Then you remembered you’d been crying all morning and surely looked like some sort of dried-out blowfish, eyelids puffy and swollen, so you averted your eyes and jumped out of his grip like he’d stung you.)

“Busy,” you told them quickly, “Sorry. Not today.”

Renjun pouted. Chenle squinted at you, obviously doubtful. And when Jeno finally moved out of the way, you didn’t even thank him for keeping you upright. You just kept your attention on the ground and beelined into the apartment.

Little did you know, that one word would become your mantra. Busy, busy, busy. But it wasn’t like you were completely lying, because you were busy. The Aegon showcase was in a week which meant you had practice every free hour with Somi and the others, and the last thing you needed was to get distracted by circling Jeno like some kind of sad, miserable shark. The good thing about being out of the house so often was that most of the week passed with no more Jeno-related incidents.

Thursday night ended up being the first time you’d seen him with your own eyes since you face-planted into him the previous Saturday.

You’d returned home at 10PM, sweaty and exhausted from a last minute choreo change that had, apparently, also wiped clean the memory of what Thursday nights meant in the Mark Lee household. Movie night. The tiredness you felt was so all-encompassing that upon the discovery of all seven of them sitting around the couch staring at you as you entered, there wasn’t even enough energy to feel awkward. Even then, you must not have looked as ghastly as you felt because Jaemin smiled at you like nothing was amiss, gesturing towards the dining table and the mountain of brown bags atop it.

“You’re late, Rockstar. Take-out’s gone cold.”

Jeno was sitting right next to him. Your muscles were like jelly. All of your bones hurt. Your brain felt like it was operating on nothing but fumes. (And this is what you blamed for your cowardice— the fact that you couldn’t even hold your head up to look in his direction in fear of catching his eye.)

After everyone had gone home and you had free reign of the kitchen once again, Mark hit you with a few more questions about the Aegon Comp; seemingly insignificant inquiries like how the parking situation was (which you didn’t understand the importance of, since he said he’d probably ride his bike there), and if he could sit wherever he wanted (which again, confused you, because the ticke you’d gotten him was one of the best in house). But in your state of fatigue you didn’t think to question it. All you wanted to do was eat something and go to bed, and that’s exactly what you did.

(If you’d had your wits about you maybe you’d have put two and two together. Maybe Somi’s words wouldn’t have caught you with the surprise they did. But as it stands…)

As it stands it’s Friday afternoon, the day of the Aegon Showcase, and half a chocolate muffin is stuffed into your face (technically now stuffed into your airway) as you come to the realization that your friend might secretly be trying to ruin your life.

“You really need to stop eating your food so fast,” Jiara murmurs, clapping you on the back with a little more force than necessary. “No one is going to take it from you. Smaller bites will go a long way.”

You gasp a breath when the chunk finally unsticks. Then, “You saw who in the audience lounge?”

Somi is nonplussed by your horror.

“I saw your brother out there trying to throw a skittle over a lighting fixture and still catch it in his mouth. When I was leaving with our food I think I heard a bunch of people cheer so I’d bet he managed to do it, which, when you think about how high these ceilings are, is actually pretty impressive—”

You fight the urge to grab her by her shoulders and shake her. “I’m not asking about the goddamn skittles!” you hiss. “Somi, you said you saw ‘them’ when you went out there. Them as in plural. Who is them?”

She makes a face like you should already know who. “Who else? Mark and the rest of his crew. And Donghyuck asked to bring a few more, so I guess those are who the other guys out there are. Why are you acting like you didn’t already know this? You were sitting right next to me when Donghyuck was practically begging to come!”

Your life flashes before your eyes.

Jeno’s car. The rain, pounding against the windows. Catching him looking at you in the mirror after Somi told them about the showcase, how it felt like the world outside faded away a little as some little message passed between you— when you felt like he was telling you something without saying a single word.

Then you remember it. In your distant, distant periphery, even though she’d been sitting not even a millimeter to your left when these alleged plans were discussed.

‘Yeah! I mean, I reserved like, a bajillion seats in advance because I knew I’d want to invite everyone who would even consider coming— I’ll definitely get the best row for you guys!’

“However,” she says after a beat, voice finally starting to show the tiniest bit of caution. You realize that your face has begun to contort on its own. “I am starting… to get vibes. That I maybe should have run that by you first? Would now be a bad time to let you know that I told them about the afterparty, too?”

Utter disbelief. The only reason you don’t leap on her once you fully comprehend what she’s said is because Gawon, who’d been watching this entire exchange with quiet brown eyes, puts a hand on your shoulder. She must be able to tell that you’re about to start freaking out, because her therapist-voice is fully activated when she clears her throat.

“Can I ask what's so surprising about this?” she asks carefully. “When we were telling Aegon about how many tickets we each wanted, you said you only needed one. For your brother, right?”

You thought of the ticket, the little envelope you’d held under your pillow for weeks as you fought with the idea of actually giving it to Mark. In the end, a few days ago, when you handed it to him and told him he could come watch you perform if he wanted to, he smiled so big that you felt bad for waiting so long in the first place. But you’d then quickly explained the caveat: that he was not to tell any of the others about it, because there was only one ticket and you didn’t want them hassling you about getting more. And Mark agreed.

Which is why you’d dared to assume that tonight would be safe.

“Yes,” you mutter. “The ticket was for him.”

“Which means you’re not surprised he’s here. So are his friends the problem?”

“The problem?”

You pause. That word makes it seem like their appearance here is actually detrimental to you in some way, like they’re just here to hassle or bully you or something, but that’s not really it at all. Your annoyance at them being here is rooted in the exact opposite. They’re not going to joke around and take it easy, or pat you on the back and tell you that you did well, like how they would if they’d come to watch one of their friends dance. They’re going to swarm you and coo and treat you like a five year old that just stumbled through their first ballet recital.

And as if that isn't bad enough, you realize with a start that you've actually got more to worry about than just being embarrassed by their innate need to baby you.

They, you remember yet again. Plural.

You quickly fix your doomsday-esque expression. "Uh. No, no problem, just... I'm over-exaggerating, forget it, Somi, when you said they, how many are we talking exactly?"

"Seven," she says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you fight to keep your shoulders from sagging. "The three from the car, your brother, and three others I don't really know as well, but who're all just as cute."

Seven. Which means Lee Jeno will be in the audience as well. You should've already known that, fully aware that wherever Mark goes Jeno will follow, but you'd been so startled by the change in attendance that you'd momentarily forgotten that you were pointedly avoiding one of that seven.

Great.

A click echoes over the announcement system. You recognize the voice that follows as the organizer of the showcase, the cheerful woman from the promotional video, happily informing all the performers to head to their greenrooms for final warm-ups before the show.

Well. Even if you wanted to mope for longer about your predicament, your mind switches lanes to the task at hand. Somi and Gawon both titter excitedly at the update, but make sure to quickly give their final reassurances about not worrying too much about the people in the audience and using that energy to give your all on stage. They’re right of course, and you probably would have come to this conclusion on your own once you swallowed your knee-jerk reaction to gripe about everything involving your brother and his friends, but you can’t say that their enthusiasm doesn't do the heavy lifting of bringing you back to earth.

You've got a competition to rock, after all. You could worry about everything else after.

Adrenaline made the hour-long showcase go by in what seemed like fifteen seconds. 

Just like that, a short chapter of your life closed with a bang; seven minutes on the stage, deafening cheers, Jiara and Guyeon pulling everyone into one big sweaty hug as soon as you were all out of the spotlight— then you blink and you’re in Gawon’s car with the windows down blasting down Gangnam on the way to Somi’s house, the girls in the seats around you singing along to the radio at the top of their lungs. The sun is setting, you’re heading to your celebratory afterparty, and what should be a picture-perfect moment is completely ruined by the fact that your mind has been in shambles for the last hour and a half. Why?

Because as you inch closer and closer to Somi’s penthouse, all you can think about is the fact that Lee Jeno is sitting up there biding his time before he can stomp your heart into a million more microscopic pieces.

What you didn’t mention about the moments after the performance was that, after rushing through changing out of your performance outfit to find your friends and get the hell out of there, you stumbled out of the greenroom to find a person. A person who was frowning out in the corridor like some sort of mopey ghost, Jeno in all his annoyingly perfect glory, caught mid-pace.

Upon seeing him your body rebooted, a hundred different emotions flashing through your system from the shock of him appearing in front of you at that moment. The only thing you had time to notice before his words ruined the rest of your afternoon was how… fidgety he was; Running his hand through his hair, rocking from foot to foot, crossing and uncrossing his arms over his chest. You’d always taken note of how still Jeno could be sometimes, not moving an inch for seemingly hours at a time, which was the main reason his current inability to stay still even caught your eye— but it was quickly overtaken by the utter despair you felt not soon after he caught sight of you and opened his mouth.

“Can we talk?” he’d asked. And he’d sounded so unsure of himself that you almost instantly crumbled to the puppy-dog eyes, before reality grabbed you by the neck and you remembered that talking to him was actually the last thing you wanted to be doing right now. 

“Busy,” you’d forced out. “My friends are waiting for me outside.”

But he must’ve seen this coming because he looked nonplussed as you took a step back, his own feet matching yours stride for stride, hands coming out almost as if to calm you like one might a spooked horse.

“It won’t take longer than a few minutes,” he tried, “Five minutes, just five. I just— I really, really want to clarify a few things from Saturday. What I said on the balcony.”

He said it like there was a chance you might’ve forgotten what happened, which almost made you laugh in disbelief. Like it was possible to forget that shitshow, your first love telling you that he was kind of interested in you once upon a time, but did nothing about it because your brother came first. Though, once you fully realized that he meant he wanted to talk about that right now, the moment lost its humor.

Now? Here? You glanced up and down the hallway. Your friends weren’t around, nor were his, but you were hardly alone.

“I wasn’t being entirely—”

“You're going to the party, aren’t you?” You cut Jeno off. Very unlike you when it came to him, and with the way he blinked you had a feeling he knew that too.

“The party?” 

“Somi said she invited you guys.”

“I— I wasn't sure you wanted me to come.”

“Somi invited you, Lee. Is that any way to treat your hostess? We can—” You swallowed. “Come by, and we can find a minute to talk then, but for now I really—”

“Have to go,” he finished with a small wince. “Got it.”

And once he’d metaphorically let you go, taking a step back to slip his hands in his pockets, you’d all but run away; finding Guyeon and Gawon waiting for you like they said they’d be, ready to leave and head to Alice’s house to pretty-up for the party in her gigantic flat. You were trying your best to keep up the energy when you got into the car with them, laughing along to their jokes and dancing along to the music, but you couldn’t stop thinking of what type of curbstomp Jeno was about to release on the suffering remains of your sixteen year-old feelings. 

Even up until the final touches of your make-up, you were commiserating. What the hell could he possibly want to clarify? 

Was he going to tell you to stop being weird around him and the others, because your mood was fucking up their vibe? To stop avoiding him so obviously, that it was as noticeable for everyone as it felt for you, that it was making it awkward for him?

Or could he mean that he was going to tell you he’d… misspoken? That he’d never really liked you the way you liked him, and didn’t want you to misunderstand— by interested in you he meant in the way all guys were interested in all girls, some lowly, surface level thing that he quickly got over when he realized his friendship with your brother could be jeopardized by it?

The last thought had stung a little more than the others, and you’d accidentally frowned so hard about it that it creased your still-setting concealer and had to wipe it all off.

After angrily redoing your base you’d forced it from your mind and got dressed, stealing a simple henley dress from Gawon’s closet upon realizing that you were not in the mood for sexy-cute like Somi had said the dress code was. Instead you opted for ‘hey, you can see my legs and that's good enough,’ and huffed your old leather jacket on top of it; the latter was sure to piss her off but she still owed you from the Mosquito Boy Incident, so she could kick rocks about it for all you cared. 

You had a feeling that no matter what you wore, tonight wasn’t going to be very sexy-cute at all.

The party is just getting into the swing of things when you make it upstairs. It’s like the explosion of a birthday surprise when you and the girls walk through the door. This party is technically a celebration, and you guess a lot of these people must’ve been in the Aegon audience without you knowing it, because you’re getting congratulations and kudos and pats on the back like you’ve just won an olympic medal.

But your pride is short lived, tainted by a bolt of nerves when you think you spot someone that looks like Donghyuck in your periphery. Where Hyuck is, Jeno will be.

It turns out to only be a very tall girl with a pixie cut who winks at you when you whirl your head to her, but the stress of it doesn't ebb away. God. Is the whole night going to be like this? Walking on pins and needles until he finds you?

“You know, new girl,” A voice starts at your side, startling you further, “Your ice breaker back at that my party could’ve been that you’re a kick-ass dancer, instead of that bullshit with the mosquitos.”

Wooyoung. Your friends are suddenly nowhere to be seen when your turn to him, clearly having fucked off into the mass the second alcohol became available, so it’s just the both of you hovering over by this snack table. Though this is only the second or third time you’ve interacted with him past a greeting (you see him sometimes on campus, and he always waves at you like you’re best friends when you pass each other), you’re actually rather soothed by his presence. 

“You wanted to know juicy secrets, not secret hobbies. If you asked me for an ice breaker and I told you I could dance, you would’ve kicked me out of that house.”

He laughs, a snickering sound, before eyeing two jello-shots a girl walks by with in her hands.

“Do a shot with me?” he pouts. “My friends are running late and I’m still painfully sober.”

A shot?  

...Hm. A shot. Inebriation. You’re not one to like straight liquor because the burn in your throat is often more than you think the gag is worth. But if you’re looking to relax sooner rather than later… the pain might not be without its merit. 

Liquid courage. Something you could definitely use right now, as skittish as you’re being. Maybe he’s onto something.

“Just one?” you pique, turning to survey the options. “Thought you were more hardcore than that, VP.”

One jello-shot quickly turns into four with Wooyoung involved, and your mouth is sweet with the taste of artificial dye by the time you actually spot Donghyuck, over by Somi’s balcony doors chatting up some pretty girl you recognize from your physical education class. The volleyball player. Xiaoting or something close, and you almost snort at the sight because she seems way out of his league. But he has a way with words that you guess you could be attractive when he wields it with flirtation in mind, instead of the intent to piss off like he always does with you.

The Smirnoff burning in your stomach must already be settling in because you only mildly bristle when you see him. Like you thought earlier: Hyuck is here, which means Jeno is here. And… and the Smirnoff must’ve already hit your brain, actually, because all of a sudden you’re feeling agitated and confrontational.

You don’t want to spend all night worrying about when he’s going to find you and drop the bomb. So what if he doesn’t like you! So what if he probably wants to forget the moment that happened out on that balcony never occurred at all? You lived your life without yearning over Jeno for years before you moved back here, so it won’t even be that hard to go cold-turkey when he says what he needs to and inevitably squashes the remainder of your heart in his fist. It’s fine. You’ll live.

You just need to rip it off like a bandaid first. And to do that?

“Hey, Woo, I think I need to go and look for somebody. You’re still down for that dance battle later?”

“I don’t play around with my challenges,” he says, grinning much too wide, “I’ll find you later, and then it’s on. Knock em’ dead, new girl.”

As bold as you suddenly are, you actually don’t want to go and interrupt whatever Donghyuck has going on just to ask him where Jeno is. So you’re on your own for a little, scanning the walls for him and the stupid clavicles poking out of his button-up, hair all windswept and eyes so dark. It’s nearly a minute of searching before you see something familiar— but it’s not exactly what you’re looking for.

Close enough, though. 

It seems like Na Jaemin has actually spotted you first, since he’s already heading towards you when you spot his head of pink darting through the crowd. You don’t fuss when he musses your hair and gasps over the competition, applauding you in that sickeningly earnest way he always has, since you’re used to his preening and compliments. Not to say you’re not appreciative. It always makes your face hot when he coos over you like this. But you’ve got a mission in mind, and fretting at him over the pouting and cheek-squeezing will get you nowhere.

“Yes, thank you, I did hear you cheering over everyone else at the end, no I wasn’t hiding my swag from you on purpose, thank you, you can stop pretending to cry now. Where is Jeno?”

The idea of you looking for Lee Jeno on purpose must startle him, because there’s a second after his clear offense at you brushing him off where he registers what you’re asking for and actually looks a little concerned. “Jeno? No-Jam? Why? Did he say something to you?”

“What? No, I just need to talk to him about something. Thought he’d be hanging around you.”

Imperceptibly, Jaemin lightens. 

“Oh. He’s downstairs hefting handles out of Somi’s car, because blondie forgot half the drinks in her trunk. He got volunteered by Chenle as Mr. Muscles and left with her like five minutes ago, so he should be back any minute.”

Damn it. Forlornly, you glance at the door, but there's nothing. No movement. Nada. There goes all your building bravado.

“But before he returns, young lady, should we talk about how that red tinge to your lips better be from the non-alcoholic jello-shots?”

Ah. Whoops. Not only no movement, but now you’ve gotten yourself trapped in the sights of Na Jaemin, who likes to pretend to be staunch on things like laws and teenage innocence and waiting to do things until the government says you’re allowed to. You constantly forget that you’re not yet the drinking age, because no college student handing out drinks at a party ever gives a fuck about the fact that you’re legally not quite legal yet. No other college student besides the one standing in front of you.

“You’ll stunt your growth if you drink before you’re supposed to!”

To this you glance at the cup he’s holding, clearly half full of something, and nearly go to laugh and ask him what his excuse is since he’s barely 21 himself, but then you think of something funnier. Without really thinking about it you snatch the cup from his hand and hork it down. Your eyes are locked with his the entire time so you get to see his surprise grow into shock, then expand into disbelief as you chug, and chug, and chug.

There’s a lot of… some peach flavored crap in here, burning like murder all the way down, to the point that you’re more bewildered than smug when the cup is finally drained because, “Fuck, Na, what is that shit? Are you trying to black out?” 

“Language!” he hisses, genuinely startled for the first time you’ve seen in a long time, which makes you laugh, “And of course not because that wasn’t mine, you little brat! I was holding that for Somi!"

“Oh,” you reply, only mildly shifted by this news. Sorry, Som. Now you know it must be peach Schnapps. She loves Schnapps. “What, so you’re not drinking tonight at all? Are you DD?”

“No! I’m not drinking, and I’m offended that you don’t already know I hate the taste of alcohol. Mark, who may I remind you is in this room and would’ve just shit himself if he’d seen what you just did, is playing designated driver tonight! He’s…”

And as he glances towards the kitchen you follow his gaze. You’re expecting to see your brother, most likely laughing over something his friends are saying, maybe even trying to dance-battle someone if he's having a particularly good time. Instead you see your brother chatting up Jeon Soyeon. 

Jeon… Soyeon. Nabi Bar, Jeon Soyeon. Who you haven’t spoken to or even seen since that awful night in Gangnam.

And you nearly gasp in terror at the sight.

Jaemin doesn't finish his sentence, and you dart your eyes to him when you realize this. He doesn’t look very pleased by what he’s seeing either, though you’re guessing for an entirely different reason than the one that’s just made you go cold.

“What?” you ask a little too quickly. The front door opens, which should be your cue to look for who’s just come in, but you can’t tear your eyes from the sight of Soyeon and Mark. What the fuck? What the fuck? “Do they know each other?” 

“Know each other?” Jaemin scoffs. “Hard to quantify.”

It would be very, very bad for you if they knew each other. Very bad. If not already clear, Mark still had no clue you weren’t where you said you were on the night of Nabi Bar. If she happened to mention your involvement in that shity, shitty idea, you had no doubt that Mark would go all holier-than-thou on you in front of all these people, and that you’d probably have to dive off of the balcony to escape the reaming.

He doesn’t look particularly comfortable, near pressed up against kitchen island because Soyeon is so close to him, hand rubbing at the back of his neck in that way you’re well aware means he’s getting flustered; but you see him laugh at something she says in the next second, and it doesn’t seem like his fake laugh. Mark’s fake laugh is terrible, and even from a distance you can spot it like the flashing lights on an ambulance, a beacon of distress just the same. So he’s laughing for real, at something… Soyeon is saying?

But you hardly recall her being very funny. 

“What does that mean, hard to quantify? Do they have history?”

“Something like that,” he murmurs. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Anyway, I think Jeno is—”

“You never look at anyone with any kind of attitude, and just now you rolled your eyes at her.”

“I didn’t roll my eyes. I blinked. For a long time. Something in my eye. Dusty in here.”

“Somi has this place deep cleaned twice a week.”

He stares at you like he’s begging you to drop it. You stare back, unwilling. “You know, Na, the longer you stall, the more time that all this illegal alcohol in my blood has to make me more bold and reckless and unruly. If I don’t get an answer from you I might just go over there and ask her myself. How do they know each other?”

You’re bluffing, of course— there’s no way you’re about to go over there just to see what they’re talking about when you could safely squeeze that information out of Jaemin instead. In reality, you were only pressing because you wanted to know if they were close enough for Soyeon to know you and Mark were related. If not? Then perfect! You’d forget it all and be on your merry way, reverting back to your original plan of finding Jeno, because there’d be no chance Soyeon could spill the beans. 

But if Soyeon does know? You might have to leave this party a little earlier than scheduled. 

“You want the whole, grown-up truth?” Jaemin finally relents.

“Might I remind you for the hundredth time that I’m only a year younger than you?”

“A year and a half,” he acquiesces with a sigh, “And Jeon Soyeon may or may not have slept with your brother to get him to do their midterm project last year.”

It comes out like he’s reading the headline from a newspaper and you made the mistake of swallowing right before he opens his mouth, choking violently on your own spit. He pats you on the back as you hack and cough before continuing.

“None of us are really sure about exactly what really happened because Mark kind of shut down after, wouldn’t tell us anything. But it was pretty clear he liked her before. She’s kinda his type, you know?” 

Edgy, pretty, and fucking evil, yeah, after having to chase a few of them away in high school you’re well aware of his type! This was not what you wanted to know about when you asked if they were close! What the hell?

“He told us they’d gone all the way right before she asked him to do their entire music production project because she was too busy caring for her sick little sister. He, being the bleeding heart he is, pretty much refused to listen to us about how convenient the timing was; he even got mad when Chenle did some sleuthing and found out that Soyeon’s parents facebook, which was filled to the brim of photos of their family, didn’t have any trace of another kid in their midst besides her. Wouldn’t believe us until after the project was turned in, when he tried to meet up with her for weeks and she ghosted him every time.”

He frowns. “At the end of it, he wasn’t… It wasn’t good. He was pretty crushed.”

Now you regret chugging his drink for fun. Even before it you’d been feeling further than chill, pleasant and buzzing from your shots, well prepared for whatever hell was to arise with Jeno. Now you felt loose; too loose, fingertips tingling at your sides because of this news, heart pounding in your chest, body so warm from the alcohol that you felt like Jaemin would hiss if he’d laid a finger on your skin.

To play games with you, that’s one thing. But Soyeon has laid her hands on your brother?

“And, knowing all of that,” you say slowly, clearly, “You’re still letting him sit there and talk to her?”

“I want to kick her away,” Jaemin says flatly. “I’d be lying if I said I trust that girl as far as I can throw her. But it’s not really up to us to get involved.”

“Who is us?”

“His friends? I mean he was pretty clear when it happened that he did not want to talk about it—”

You bark a laugh, but there’s no humor to it at all. “So he can pout and gripe about the sanctity of discussing your problems with people, the embarrassing, the horrifying, but when it comes to him he gets to keep secrets? Forget how hypocritical that is, you guys are listening?”

Jaemin, finally, seems to catch the heat in your words. “Uh. He told… I mean, before you get all up in arms, she may be over there apologizing for all we know. Maybe she’s repenting.”

You both stare at her as she tips her head back in laughter, the salacious flirty kind where you’re more focused on being attractive than actually enjoying the joke, before she puts her hand on his chest in a, ‘Wow, you’re so funny, take me now,’ kind of way, leaning in to say something to him that she clearly doesn’t want anyone else to hear. Every hair on your body stands up when Mark doesn’t push her away.

He’s not seriously buying her shit again, is he? 

“Jaemin, are you willing to bet your life on that?”

“What?”

“Everything you just said about Soyeon. You know that for fact?”

“Well, no, Mark didn’t actually tell us about it so I can never be sure, but… but with what we could gather, it was pretty cut and dry. Chenle actually also found out she had a boyfriend at the same time she did all that stuff with Mark. We just couldn’t bear to tell him that after the fact, so we never… Hey, where—”

You’re sober enough to make it through the throng of people without stumbling, but not sober enough to fully anticipate what you’re really about to do. The goal is just to separate them, somehow, to get that harlot away from your brother, and then you’ll go and deal with Jeno. If people greet you as you pass you don’t hear or see it; all you can grasp is her, touching him, laughing with him, cheating, lying, people-using—

“Mark,” you nearly hiss, “I need to talk to you. Now.”

Mark jumps a foot in the air when you grab him but Soyeon, for some reason, doesn’t look surprised to see you in the slightest. She does, however, raise a sharp blonde eyebrow at your tone.

“What,” Mark splutters, “Right now?”

“Yeah,” Soyeon sighs, continuing to trail her eyes up and down Mark’s face instead of looking at you, “The grown-ups are talking, sweetheart. Can’t you give us a second?”

Mark turns back to the sensual softness of her voice like a moth to a flame, and you want to smack him. “No. Not a second now, not a second later, not a second tomorrow or forever. Now, Mark.”

And that was where you made the mistake that turned this whole night sour. Only when Soyeon realizes it’s her you have a problem with, catching on from the agitation in your tone that you’re not just here to bother Mark for fun, does she slide her unreadable gaze to you. 

“You know I haven’t seen you in a while, Little Lee.”

“For the better,” you mutter. “Seriously—”

“I was so surprised when Yuqi told me you two were related.” 

She’s talking to Mark but looking at you, eyes squinted a little, like someone analyzing a germ under a microscope. So she does know. Great. “I couldn’t believe that this girl was the same little star you used to tell me about when I met her. She’s grown up a lot, you know? Doesn’t take after you at all, Markie.”

“Soyeon,” you say again, “Let him go.”

“Why? So you can keep throwing your tantrum? Every time you open your mouth it gets harder and harder to see the resemblance. When you’re so…”

She doesn’t need to say it, and it’s honestly probably better that she didn’t, because you would’ve leapt at her if she’d gone as far as she’d been intending to dig with that comment. You’re aware you don’t resemble Mark, physically or otherwise— in accomplishment, in talent, in patience, in perfect unmarred reputation. You’re well fucking aware. 

“Soyeon,” Mark finally says, thankfully lurching a little in your direction like her evil witch's spell is finally wearing off, “I don’t think there’s any need for that, what the hell is going on? Do you two know each other?”

Soyeon opens her eyes comically wide. “You don’t know?”

And you feel Mark stop. What the hell are you doing, you want to scream. Why are you even pausing for this bullshit? Come on! But he doesn’t. He stands there and he stares at her, as if searching her face for any sign of truth, and Soyeon takes this as her cue.

“Little star is a big girl now! Her own fake ID, clinging along with her baby bottle to any club the adults want to go to, even catching her own ride home with any wasted guy that smiles in her direction! Don’t you live together? What a handful she must be if she can sneak out under your nose, Markie.”

The blood rushing in your ears makes it hard to tell if it’s only you that’s losing your hearing or if the rest of the people hanging around in the kitchen really have quieted to watch the rising altercation, but you don’t dare move your eyes from the girl to check. The baby bottle comment, outing your fake ID, all of that is rage inducing on its own— but it’s a cold, stomach twisting madness that grabs you when you latch on to the last part of what she’s just said. Catching your own ride home?

Was she referring to Yoobin?

Your fingers unfurl from Mark’s jacket.

“What do you mean, catch my own ride?”

Soyeon laughs. Under normal circumstances, it would be a pretty sound. “Did you think we didn’t see you leave? Blowing up our phones like there was some big emergency— We sent that guy out there to keep you the company you wanted so much, God, we got tired of babysitting you. You stopped calling and neither of you came back inside. What, cause your brother is here you’re going to try and soften it up now, huh? Tell us all you didn’t go home with that drunkard, when you love to tell people you’re no stranger to a bar?”

Yoobin, who grabbed you, touched you, tried to drive you home in his wasted state with clear intentions on what he wanted in return.

Yoobin, who Soyeon and Yuqi and their friends had sent, knowing you were panicked, knowing he made you uncomfortable, knowing you were looking for them.

Soyeon who stopped hearing from you and laughed it off. Soyeon who stopped hearing from you for days and didn’t bat an eye, knowing what she’d left you alone with.

Soyeon, who’s straight, pretty nose cracks under your fist in the same way Yoobin’s did, except this time you don’t run away when she screams and collapses and you realize what you’ve done. Except this time you hit her again— or you try to at least, lunging for her with your eyes ablaze, unsure what you’ll do when you get there but 100% sure it’ll hurt worse than a bloody fucking nose— but don’t quite get there, because someone has lifted you off the ground, two iron-bar arms wrapped like vices around your ribs, the worlds tightest back hug.

In your right mind you might’ve placed the sandalwood and the bergamot, or recognized the rolled up sleeves of his oversized button up, ivory and forest green, but as it stood—

As it stood, as you shouted and thrashed and fought, you only made out one thing.

Mark Lee, your own brother, helping Jeon Soyeon to her feet, two hands firm on her arms to hold her up; his surprised voice the last thing you hear before Lee Jeno hauls you out of that house.

“Wow, Soyeon. Is that true?”

(”Rockstar is going to wallop that girl,” Donghyuck mutters, staring at you like they all are from behind the pillar separating the kitchen from the living room, alerted to the worsening confrontation by a sheepish Jaemin.

“No she won’t," Jaemin tries, clearly feeling guilty, "She knows better than that.”

“She’s gone still. And I’ve never, ever seen her eyes that wide before.”

“That’s control. It’s restraint. She’s not going to hit her.”

Renjun, then, “If you really believe that then why do you look so nervous?”

“Her fist is balled up,” Jisung comments quietly.

“It’s restraint!”

“You weren’t there the day that she knocked the socks off of Park Gyubin, right? When he tried lifting her friend’s skirt up in the cafeteria?”

“She…” Jaemin glances at Donghyuck, “She’s tried to fight men before?”

“Tried to? I thought she was going to kill him. Y/N hit him so hard he had to get his retainer refitted. She’s got a right hook like her brothers. I bruise when she hits me, you know.”

Renjun again, “Why do you sound so proud of that?”

“She… Well, no, look, look! She let go of Mark. They have to be deescalating, she—”

“Does deescalating usually involve getting closer to the object of your anger?” Jisung asks.

“She—”

“Here it comes,” Chenle announces excitedly.

And then Jeno is across the room.)

Jeno realizes before you do that you’re not going back home tonight.

His apartment looks the same. Obviously. It’s only been three weeks since you were last here. Like before, Jeno doesn’t bother with the lights, kicking his shoes off in the entryway the same way, except this time you have two shoes of your own to place next to them instead of the sad and lonely single. Three weeks ago, but it feels like it’s only been a day or two since you did this whole song and dance; following him to the bathroom, sitting on the counter as he stoops under to rummage through his first-aid bin, gritting your teeth when he rubs your knuckles with the antiseptic, smiling weakly when he apologizes for the sting.

You’d cried in his car.

When Jeno carried you out of Somi’s apartment you thought the stinging in your eyes was just discombobulated rage. But when he set you down on your feet in the elevator and you began to come down from the adrenaline high, the burning just intensified as you understood what just happened. You’d only been able to keep the tears at bay until he told you to put your seatbelt on in his passenger seat and it all became too real. 

Though you’re not sober enough right now for it to feel like a problem yet, you know you’ll want to kill yourself tomorrow for allowing yourself to devolve in front of him like that no matter the circumstance. In the moment, you weren’t even entirely sure what you were crying about. Was it the craze of fury wearing off after punching Soyeon, and the jitters it left behind? Or the fact that even when Jeno was tugging you towards the elevator up there, you’d stood and waited for Mark to follow for nearly an entire minute, just for him to never come out? 

You’d like to chalk it up to adrenaline and inebriation, but deep down you knew exactly what it was that had your eyes brimming with those tears. 

He’d chosen Soyeon. The girl who’d lied to him, cheated with him, fucked him over for a grade and left you for dead on the streets of Gangnam, and he’d stayed in that house with her instead of coming out to check on you. And you weren’t really one to catastrophize, but how couldn’t that signal the definitive end of Mark putting up with your shit? The nail in the coffin of his patience with you?

You knew things had been rough lately with you moving in, the thread of butting heads over little things like curfews and the people you hung out with, but you hadn’t thought your relationship had deteriorated to the point that he’d ever… that he’d ever choose someone else. You’re his sister. No matter how mad he is, he’s supposed to choose you. 

But he didn't. And in Lee Jeno’s passenger seat, like a giant baby, you cried about it. 

In proper Y/N fashion the only thing that had chuffed you into sucking it all up and swallowing it into the depths of your soul never to be seen again, was Jeno’s building appearing on the horizon. The threat of him asking you if you’re alright and actually having to confront those feelings was terrifying enough to jar you out of your self pity.

But he hadn’t asked you about your red eyes. He hadn’t said anything, actually. He just tugged you out of the car and into the elevator. Herded you into his apartment. And tipped his head towards his bathroom just like before, except this time he was smiling. In the soft, polite kind of way that let you know he was well aware of what just transpired in his car, but was simply... letting it be.

(And you always knew Jeno was rather observant. But man, the thought behind that smile could’ve made you burst into tears all over again.)

On the counter, holding out your hand for the steps that would never come, you blinked back to the present when Jeno stopped at the healing salve. You’d been waiting for him to bust out the gauze again, already lamenting the next week of your life with the itchy fabric tight around your wrist, but all Jeno does is raise an eyebrow at you when you don’t hop off of the sink after he puts the kit away.

“What are you waiting for?” he asks.

You blink down at your hand, shiny with the balm, and then back up at him. “The rest of it.”

“The wrap? I didn’t think you needed it.”

“But that’s what you did last time I was here.”

“Because the last time you were here you didn’t know how to punch someone properly. It looked like you got her the right way this time. When I was tugging at that wrist in the elevator just now you hardly seemed to notice, when you could barely close your fist a few weeks ago.”

…Oh. Only as he mentions it do you roll your hand around in its socket, flexing your fingers under the bathroom light. Your knuckles look like shit, the newly forming bruises and angry skin, but it doesn’t actually ache like it did that night with Yoobin.

Well you’ll be damned. So straightening your wrist really does work.

“Oh,” you mumble. “I guess I don’t. Wasn’t really thinking about it.”

“Of course you weren’t. Probably thinking about what you wanted to eat, right?”

“What I— What?”

What you wanted to eat? When did you discuss that you were hungry?

“Heard your stomach grumbling in the car, so I’m assuming you haven’t eaten since before the competition. There’s a pizza place down the street that I think you’d like, a jajangmyeon shop too, but their delivery takes ages. It’s up to you.”

You stare at him, clearly not following. Jeno is relaying this to you like tonight was planned, as if it was always in the cards for you to be hanging out at his place tonight like a couple of pals, leaning against the door with his arms crossed, the perfect picture of normalcy. He thinks you’re going to be here long enough to eat? He’s not planning to have you shipped out of here in the next half hour?

But then you realize that there isn’t really another place for you to be shipped to. Mark’s apartment is… not really an option. The idea of going back there tonight almost makes your stomach roll, actually.

But if you don’t go back, that doesn’t leave much in the realm of locations to hide out at. Somi’s brother is coming home tonight, she’d squealed as much this morning, and considering how rare it is that he’s not busy in other countries you abhor the idea of intruding on their reunification. You don’t have many other friends here that you’re close enough with to just show up at their place at 10PM unannounced, not that you’d want to given that your little spat with Soyeon is probably all over everyones instagram stories right now, and is surely the only thing they’ll want to talk about.

You don’t have very many options right now. And Jeno probably knew that from the moment he decided to bring you here. 

“Thinking pretty hard over there,” Jeno hums, “for what is supposed to be a two choice question. Unless you don’t want either?”

“Pizza is… fine.”

“Just fine, or actually good? I can check to see if there’s any—”

“It’s good, Lee.”

He smiles like he’s got you in the bag, and then stands up straight. “I’ll order it then.”

You nod emptily and make moves to follow him out of the bathroom, right on his tail, which is why you nearly crash into him when he whirls back around to stop you. “Oh. Almost forgot.”

“What? Forgot what?"

But you only grow more confused when Jeno speeds off towards his room without replying. There’s a creak and a shuffle, doors opening and closing before Jeno returns with a bundle of fabric bunched up in his arms.

“Can’t imagine it’ll be very comfortable to hang out in that dress all night.” 

He holds out the mass; what appears to be a heather gray hoodie and black sweatpants that, even bunched up like this, still look miles too long for you. He sees you eyeing it and you fear he’s going to do something awful, like politely offer to go and get you something else as if he hasn’t already done a hundred other things for you tonight, so you quickly oblige. Once you relieve him of the pile he laughs, tells you he’s going to put the order in for the pizza, and closes the door on the way out.

You stand there unmoving for much too long, the heap of fabric clutched to your chest.

There’s so much to unpack. Being here again. The fact that he was supposed to break your heart today instead of doing all of... this. How casual he’s being about it all. The brother-slash-bestfriend shaped elephant in the room. The clothes.

But, for the sake of not collapsing under the weight of all of that turmoil, you decide to just focus on the latter; the most immediate and least heart wrenching of the bunch. His clothes. You’re going to wear his clothes. 

Yet another of your old dreams coming to fruition in this apartment. Lucky you.

Jeno is laying across the long part of the couch when you exit the bathroom, footsteps making no noise because you’re padding along on top of the ankle hems. He’s dressed differently too; gone is the jeans and the ivory button up, in its place a black long sleeve and navy blue sweatpants just like yours, except his actually fit. He’s texting furiously on his phone when you round the corner, eyebrows furrowed with something like irritation before he sees your looming figure in the corner of his eye and looks up.

"I put an X-Men movie into the DVD player," he announces, squinting back down to his screen, "Couldn't think of a better time than now to finally get into it, since you'll be here to explain all the things I don't understand..."

But he trails off as he stares at his phone, eyebrows furrowing at something before he frowns and stands up. The look is gone when you shuffle towards the couch and he looks up again, smiling at you like you like nothing is wrong, before he says, "I need to make a call though. Start the movie, yeah? I'll be back before things get interesting."

You stare at him. Probably shouldn't miss the opening scene if you really want to 'get into it', you nearly say. But you've been on this earth for long enough to recognize when someone wants a little privacy.

You want to ask if it's Mark. If he's the one Jeno had been messaging back so agitatedly just now. But the fear of it not being him, Jeno instead just trying to sort something out with like, a truant project partner or something, makes you stuff it down again. It'll just make you look even more pitiful.

"Sure. Most of the intro is fan service anyway."

He opens his mouth like he's about to say something else but then his phone starts to ring and he only smiles tightly at you instead. Then he's gone down the corridor, into his bedroom, and when the ringtone finally stops you can barely hear his voice much less make out what he's saying. Hm.

A different day and you might've snuck off after him to eavesdrop just to see for yourself. But after tonight?

You simply watch him go, and then tumble onto his couch with the exhaustion of someone who's just run up and down the building a dozen times.

You don't even have the strength to reach over for the TV remote; you just lay there and revel in the softness of the cushions, and at how tired you suddenly feel. Rehearsal all morning, giving it your all on stage, the energy-leeching atmosphere of a house party, the alcohol sagging through your veins. Not to mention the emotional confusion. Crying always takes it out of you.

So it's no wonder that you forgo turning the movie on to just take a moment to breathe in the pleasantly dark living room, closing your eyes for what you intended to be a brief second, just to gather the last bits of your patience and sanity for the night ahead... only to fall victim to what happens to most people when they say they're just resting their eyes.

You fall asleep. 

At least for a little while, you do. A brief, dreamless, blissful unconsciousness.

It’s so blissful in fact, that when you’re startled back to life by a knock at the front door a few minutes later— blinking the haze out of your eyes and seeing Jeno’s ceiling instead of your own, understanding with a sinking hopelessness that you’re not waking from a nightmare, that all of tonight has really happened— the dread is almost crushing when it all comes back.

But there isn't even any time to mourn. Because you realize that if someone's just knocked on the door, like the good homeowner he is, Jeno will be out here any second now to open it. He'll come out here and he'll see you and you'll be sucked right back into that nightmare, pretending like everything is fine when you both know that tonight was supposed to go so, so differently. Sitting next to each other and eating next to each other and attempting small talk for the sake of keeping things civil until you can escape this place in ten hours.

The idea almost gives you hives. You can't do it. You can't. There has to be another way. What if you make something up? A sore throat? A sudden headache?

But there's no time to think of anything fancy because in the next second Jeno's bedroom door clicks open down the hall, and panic flies up in your throat.

So you do the only think you can fathom. Before he can come around the corner and see you freaking out, you fling yourself back over and pretend to still be dead asleep.

As foolish as you immediately feel, it must work at least a little bit; you hear him come into the living room, hesitate, and then continue on past the couch on lighter steps as if worried about making too much noise. You even steady your breathing when he’s opening the door for the pizza guy— smooth inhale, smooth exhale, spaced just far enough to replicate what someone sounds like when they’ve been out for a while.

Shit. Will this actually work?

When he closes the door and the room falls to silence your heart picks up a little bit. What is he doing? Is he staring at you, trying to see if you’re faking?

Is he wondering if he should wake you up to eat? Oh, God! What if—

“Are you up?” he whispers. And you almost choke trying to swallow down the instinctual response that rises in your throat.

With surprisingly great effort, you do nothing. Say nothing. You don’t even stir. You just pray to whatever God is out there that Jeno will take the hint, eat his pizza at the kitchen island, leave you out here and go to bed. You get excited when you hear his steps again and think he’s going to pass the couch straight, but of course a second later you feel the couch dip somewhere off behind your back and you nearly curse.

“Guess not,” Jeno mumbles. "I forgot that you knock out so easily."

A few more seconds of what feels like an endless quiet, only his shuffling making sound; through your squeezed-shut eyes you see the light of the TV flicker like he’s just changed the channel, and with it you hear what must be the intro to a gameshow or something— excited chatter, ringing bells, audience cheers. But the volume is turned down so low that it feels like the show is playing in another room. Is he keeping the volume low because of you?

Is he… going to stay out here? 

“So you won’t mind if I think out loud,” he says suddenly, and your eyes nearly fly open in surprise. What? 

But he sounds serious. “Like a test run, almost. For what I wanted to talk about earlier at Aegon. Since I still don’t really know what the hell I’m going to say even after losing sleep over it all week, and I know you’ll try to stop me if you’re awake. I should just try it now, right?”

Try it... now?

Your fake deep-breathing almost hitches in panic when you realize what he’s getting at. Sweet God, please, no. What he wanted to talk about earlier? He wants to get into that now?

“Jaemin scolded me for springing it on you like that after your showcase, by the way. I didn’t realize that I might’ve cornered you until later and I’m sorry about that. I just really, really wanted to talk. Because I didn’t before, and everything got all…” he sighs, heavily. “I’m thankful that you told me to get lost earlier, because I think I can explain it better, like this. I can start from the beginning. I know how thorough you are about things like this.”

You hear the beep of a digital watch somewhere in his house as your face scrunches up in confusion. It's officially midnight, if the watch is making noise to denote the hour, but the realization of the time only comes second to the slow bewilderment slipping through your gloom.

From the beginning? The beginning of what? What the hell does any of that have to do with firmly rejecting you?

“Before we met, because of the way Mark talked about you, I had this idea in my head that you’d be some sort of perfect, flawless angel. That you’d be a little version of him; neat and proper and just a little bit naive, too nice for your own good. A rule follower.”

He laughs at this, a genuine laugh at the memory, and your frown deepens in embarrassment. “Then I actually laid my own eyes on you for the first time, and I realized I couldn’t have been more off.”

You remember it clearly, the first time you’d made a fool out of yourself in front of him and the rest of Mark’s friends. Fourteen years old, running inside the house after walking home from class with your own crew; you’d completely forgotten that you were supposed to bring your skateboard and a change of clothes to school because you all planned to ride around the park that day, the first warm afternoon after a mushy spring, and they said if you didn’t come back out in sixty seconds or less they’d leave you in the dust. So you stormed into the house, past the living room with all of them in it without even a glance or greeting since you hadn’t realized it wasn’t just your brother in there, hurled off your uniform in favor of your outfit staples at the time— an oversized tee that you stole from Mark, hand-me-down cargo shorts that also came from your brother’s closet, and your most cherished possessions: a Yankees baseball cap and your beat-up blue Nikes. 

But you couldn’t find your skateboard and the clock was running out, so you howled down the staircase, “If you moved my skateboard again from where I put it I’m going to kill you in your sleep!” only for Mark to shout back up, “It’s a tripping hazard! It’s in the hallway closet! And aren’t you grounded right now? Where are you even going? Does mom know?”

You hadn’t replied. Just snatched the board from where he said he’d stashed it, barreled back down the stairs, and was fully preparing to toss your brother some half-assed explanation, but then you’d seen him. Seen them. Mark’s new school friends, all lounging on your living room couch, staring at you as if you’d come into the room with a bomb. Lee Jeno (who’s name you’d only later find out) appeared the most stunned by your tornado-like appearance. 

You could only imagine what they were seeing. Some rowdy tomboy, technically on house arrest but running out to wreak havoc on the town regardless, threatening to kill people in their sleep for tidying up. Exaggerated, obviously, but you remember being mortified halfway to Sunday by how cute they all were and that this was their first introduction to you— and in that mortification, sprinting out of the house without telling your brother anything at all.

You’d gotten a good scolding for that later.

“And it’s going to sound kind of stupid,” Jeno continues, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think you heard the smile in his voice, “But because of that, I got this idea in my head that Mark must’ve only been seeing you through those rose-tinted glasses. The type every older brother has for every younger sister, the ones that make everything they do look cute and miraculous and perfect even if they’re clearly evil to everyone else. Not saying I thought you were secretly some sort of demon or anything either, ‘cause I know you’d roll your eyes at me right now if you could. Just that the girl I saw that day was nowhere near the delicate little thing he’d described. And I got... curious. I started wondering what you were actually like.”

Your face is getting hot again. You’ve never, ever heard him speak this much in one sitting, and the idea of him ever paying this much attention to you is mind boggling. But you don’t let yourself lean into whatever feeling of hope is whistling through your head. 

So what if he made a game out of trying to separate your real traits from the things Mark got wrong about you six years ago? Sometimes you liked to make up season-long dramas about strangers you saw on campus. It doesn’t mean anything now. 

You want to scrunch into a ball. You aren’t sure how much more of this monologue you can handle, even despite the consequences of rolling over and breaking the facade just to get him to stop. The heat in your face is spreading to your neck, your stomach, every inch of your skin, it’s making your stomach churn with discomfort. 

“But then the next year you came to our school,” Jeno says with finality, like this is supposed to be some important distinction. “And it stopped being as casual of an interest. The months went by and at some point I stopped looking for you just to see if you were doing something Mark didn’t know about, and started looking for you just because I wanted to know what you were doing. We’d come over for movie night and while Hyuck and Jae argued for hours about what they did and didn’t want to watch, I’d be wondering if I’d get to see you. You probably won’t remember this, but one of those nights I even ordered an extra curry bowl just so I’d have an excuse to knock on your door to tell you about it. And I thought that was a normal thing to do.” 

Jesus Christ. Do you remember? Of course you remember! You’d been reading at your desk with your headphones in, which meant Jeno had to come all the way into your room to get your attention— tapping the side of your earbud with two gentle fingers, laughing all crescent-eyed at you when you yelped in surprise. The sight of him in your room for the first time was like a grenade going off in your tweenaged mind; you’d had to calm down for nearly an entire minute before going downstairs to get your food.

“I thought it was just Mark rubbing off on me. He cared so much about you that I thought my sudden interest was simply overprotection by relation— that he was the reason why I couldn’t stop looking for you. ‘Cause in my mind it couldn't be anything else but brotherly. Mark was pretty clear about what he thought of the people that liked you so I knew it couldn’t be that; I wasn’t stupid enough to let myself be interested in you like that. Right?” 

He laughs again, but it doesn’t sound nearly as sweet this time. “I’m rambling, huh?”

Yes, you are. You are. 

“I’ll cut to the ending then,” he replies like he’s read your mind. “I realized I did in fact ‘like you like that’, at our graduation.”

And your eyes pop open. It’s completely involuntary, and if you’d been facing him you would have been screwed. But you’re still looking deep into the cushions of the black couch; wide eyes staring into a deep, dark, nothing.

“I hid behind that brotherly excuse for three years. My eyes followed you in the hallway because I wanted to make sure you were okay like Mark would’ve wanted me to. I offered to drive you home from school when he was busy because that’s what Mark would’ve asked me to do anyway. Everything I wanted to do I told myself I was doing because I was just a good friend. You know?” A beat passes before he hums to himself. “But I guess you don’t, actually. Because you liked me authentically, like you do with everything. The night of our graduation, the backyard barbecue your parents threw for us. You remember that, right?”

Duh. You’d bawled your eyes out on the front porch halfway through because only then did it fully sink in that they’d all be leaving you behind, these losers you swore you didn’t even like, before wiping your face and moodily rejoining the celebration.

“Jaemin and Donghyuck were having fun like it was their last day on earth. Even Mark didn’t seem too worried about the fact that we’d be leaving our whole lives behind in a few weeks when we drove off to SNU. I asked him if he was going to miss anything and he listed a dozen things, the friends of ours that were going to different colleges, his parents cooking, his backyard, his bedroom, his electric keyboard. And I remember feeling frozen when he didn’t mention you. In hindsight I know that it was probably because he’d still be coming back home every break, and you had a whole year of high school to finish so it wasn’t like you were going anywhere, but at the moment I felt like someone just yanked the blanket off of me. Three years of pretending and it only took one conversation for it to smash through all of that and hit me like a truck. If Mark isn’t worried about it, why the hell has the idea of leaving you here been haunting me for the last week and a half?”

Oh.

“It was then, I think. That I went, ‘Ah. So this hasn’t all been because of Mark, then,’ and everything I’d ever done under the guise of brotherly obligation popped into context all at once. And as if it wasn’t enough being in my own head, I was still in the middle of talking to Mark as I realized that not only did I like you more than I’d ever liked anyone— I was looking directly at the person who would surely strangle me to death if he ever found out that I liked you more than I’d ever liked anyone. So I pretended it never happened. I said ‘yeah, me too,’ the party ended, I went home, the summer went on, and before I knew it I was on campus and had a million other things to worry about. I saw how well you seemed to be doing when Mark would show me your Instagram posts, how much fun you were having, and I let that make me feel better about being such a coward. Over time, without you around, I convinced myself that things were better like this. That it never would have worked out anyway.”

There’s a moment of silence so utterly long that for a moment you genuinely think that this is going to be it. That he’s going to have said all of that and just… sighed, gotten up, and gone to sleep, leaving you alone to be in misery over what you’ve just heard until morning.

But that’s not it. He’s got a few more words for you. The worst of them all. A string of syllables at first, ones that instantly shatter every bit of emotional resistance you’ve built for yourself these last few days— and then a sentence that has your blood turning to ice in your veins when you realize what it means.

“But then you came back to Seoul,” Jeno started simply, “And a lot of things I thought I knew for sure don’t feel quite as concrete anymore.”

You inhaled. 

You exhaled. 

And tried to understand what the fuck that last part was supposed to mean.

But then before you could he continued on, his voice soft, casual, innocent. Too innocent. “Like how I used to be sure that you snored when you were sleeping,” he murmured. “Has it been so long that I've forgotten? Or are you not actually asleep, Rockstar?”

[♥︎]: and there it is, folks! please leave a like if you enjoyed! it REALLY gives me the motivation to work on this faster!

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