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#why can't you keep him from falling apart
generalsdiary · 3 days
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what if ratio breaks down and falls apart?
Dr. Ratio (x Aventurine at the end)
warnings: mental breakdown
word count: 1.9k
a/n: lots of ppl seemed to like this idea so here it is, not beta read, ffs come home aventurine
description: Dr. Ratio breaks down (angst), Aventurine mentioned/shows up at one point (fluff dare I say)
his hands shook immensely with the keys in his hand, the heavy doors open and close. he can feel it. he can no longer hold on. being a victim of routine, he manages to push on just a few moments longer, to put away his bag, lock the door, and take off his shoes. few steps through the hallway and it is over. his body trembling as his chest swells up with pain and sadness, so many emotions mixed up in one. filling up in his throat like a peach pit, choking him and making it harder to breathe. he falls to his knees, his breathing heavy, rapid, and irregular. in moments like these, he knows how to take care of himself, how to help himself, how to fix this. but it is too much. he can't. he also... why does everyone get to break down but not him? he can barely breathe in and breathe out, as many thoughts fill his mind.
eyes filling with hot tears except he cannot cry that much, he has always been incapable of actually crying and letting it all out.
like a water dam overflowing and drowning him along with it. the dam filling with water and using it in useful ways until the workers don’t show up, the tools get clogged, old, and broken. the dam overflows. nature always comes back to take its due, to pick up the price, especially human nature.
he isn't enough. he will never be enough. it is a fool's job, what he is trying to achieve. how could he ever spread knowledge everywhere, making it available to everyone? how is that being realistic? hopeful fool, he knows better than to hope. an idiot. a failure. why did he even think he could be capable of doing that? the aeons were right to not recognize him, he isn't worth their attention- he keeps failing. isn't it the definition of insanity to keep doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome? not enough. never enough. such expectations were put on him and he jumped to fulfill them- and when he didn't achieve the last one- to become a true genius, then he failed. failed the mold he was put in. failed the beliefs of everyone around him and their expectations. they were all wrong; everyone who said he could do something, become someone relevant, someone who matters and makes a significant change. and the things he did, well they were never perfect and always could have been done much better. for fuck's sake he fails his students, just how many get the actual knowledge, and how many give up? he isn't good enough, he should be better, and get the knowledge across in a way everyone would accept and know and learn. why is he not good enough? he keeps trying and it is never enough. not once has the universe said, ‘okay, you have done enough, you can rest now.’
why does he keep trying? and he is alone in all of it. who is there who cares for him- who puts his view of self aside, who can.. please.. who can please view him as a human.. a person.. just... as someone who doesn't need to be extraordinary- can he be loved in such a way, appreciated? who would care for him? when all that is said about him is that he is rude, when he only tells the truth and tries to help, he is told that he is insensitive, egotistical, and he is so far from it. why does everybody hate him? aeons, he hates himself. why was he born, created like this? it would've been so much easier to have been born an idiot, dumb, to work a normal job, and be happy.
he stares at an empty spot as these thoughts overtake him, and then he sobs as the next ones come... he wants to be held, oh so much. to be embraced, to be cared for, thought of in a positive way, for his name to be called with love. no one is enough, he isn't enough.
his thoughts keep spiraling in a whirlpool, almost like he is frozen in space. eyes fixed, hands shaking and the occasional warm tear falling down his cheeks, which are now red and hot.
his skin feels like it is burning, the clothes on him overwhelming him but he cannot move, it hurts, it all hurts. why does it hurt so much? this vicious cycle never ends. how could he stand up again when he is falling apart at the seams? is he worth it at all, the life he lives, if he cannot even help himself? he will never be enough. he wants to shout, to yell in frustration and anger- all swallowed in his throat while he continues to sit.. broken on the floor.
his thoughts become more incoherent, how could he.. why.. help.. not enough.. and so on. curses, hatred directed at himself, sorrow, and pity. his ears deaf at any sound, he is so lost in his mind, it is like he isn't even there.
this isn't the first time, but it was never this hard. he picked himself up before; standing, going automatically around his home to take care of his basic needs. but now he has no hope, no care for it, he cannot move. immobile and lost, so… so deep in this vortex.
the doors open and close. there's a voice, he doesn't even register it, “..tas?... home?”
the person makes a few more steps and sees Veritas, sitting on the ground. Veritas manages to register distant footsteps, rushed- it doesn't matter; he isn't even there. only his body is.
the person sits down in front of Veritas and hands him a glass of water. his eyes are unfocused, he appears still, hands on the floor with a slight tremor, cheeks shiny from the tears and a warm red color. instinctively he accepts the glass and drinks the water. the cool fluid makes him consciously blink and float back to the present moment. he registers the voice of the person in front of him.
“Veritas.. I'm here, good- the water is good for you- I'm here, alright?” his eyes focus on the blond man sitting in front of him. Aventurine's eyes are filled with worry and his hands cup Veritas' face, caressing slowly. his voice is calm, “you will be fine- I got you, okay?” Aventurine nods to himself more than to Ratio. his hand moves to the indigo hair, pulling his fingers through the soft locks in a comforting manner. Veritas' eyes are trained on him, full of pain and heartbreak, yet his face is neutral, so hurt.
“your head got to you again? I keep telling you- don't listen to it- it isn't right it only says mean things which aren't true. do you hear me?” the only thing he gets in response is a slow blink from the taller man. and it is enough.
“it tipped over, it isn't as bad as your head claims- don't listen to it, listen to me, focus on me. I’ve got you, I'm here-“ he pulls Veritas into his chest, cradling him in a way. “-and I'm not going anywhere”
fresh tears soak Aventurine's shirt. it hurts to be cared for, to be seen, and for that person to stay and not leave.. it feels undeserving and it just makes him cry harder. he sobs into Aventurine's shoulder, breaking down fully. his voice comes out high-pitched, breaking, “I... I.. it is so hard-” he sobs harder and tightly embraces Aventurine.
“I'm here, you will be okay, this will pass, I have you, don't- don't struggle against them, focus on me, please?” Aventurine pulls away to raise Veritas' chin and meet his eyes, those sunset eyes filled with tears. and he weakly nods.
“focus on me, my voice, Doc, focus on my voice. and I'm warm- you can feel it yes? my chest is warm and my hands- my scent- you can smell the perfume right? focus on me, ground with me. leave that dreadful place- it never did you any good.” he continues using safe words, repeating them, and when Veritas manages to get a grasp on reality once more; he feels empty, numb and Aventurine takes care of him. Aventurine helps him eat a proper meal, bathes with him where he holds him close against his chest, kissing his temple, and repeating that everything will be okay.
Aventurine holds him tightly in bed and whispers only the softest affirmations. before Veritas falls asleep, Aventurine mumbles kind words with his fingers in his hair.
he stays mostly awake that night, just in case Ratio wakes up in distress or from a nightmare. he doesn't mind it. he cares for him, if needed he'd pick his pieces up every day and help him put himself back together. Veritas is his, and he will always be there for him.
the morning turns out to be a slow one. Veritas would tiredly gaze at Aventurine, the blond man asleep into the late morning, and he wouldn't dare start his day- not yet, not now, not without him. Veritas' thoughts are slow this early in the day, they are quiet. he simply observes the younger man. finding some type of solace in it. he doesn't dare touch him as if the beautiful man was a statue made of glass and might break from a single touch.
when his eyes do open he hums and moves to press his face into Veritas' soft chest.
like it is the first time, Ratio is surprised, frozen for a few moments before he relaxes and embraces Aventurine.
“sleep well?”
he nods.
“I rescheduled my stuff, and I hope you will yours too-“, Veritas interrupts him, “..I did.” his voice quiet, monotone.
“today.. today will be easier, okay?” he raises his head, looking up. “I will be with you as long as you need and then some. please be kind to yourself. you need it” he whispers the last sentence and presses his lips into Ratio's cheek.
“I'll try... thank you.. for.. yesterday, dear gambler”
Aventurine nods, “I love you,” he says, easily, as if he didn't have to think those words through before he said them but it conveyed everything he wanted them to say. that he would be there for him, that he'd take care of him, that he would be his.
slight shock is obvious in Veritas’ eyes, that he would be loved gives him a stutter in his response. he feels so vulnerable, bare and naked in front of him. his emotions nude especially after being seen in the state he was in yesterday and despite that... or perhaps specifically because of it... Aventurine said that. with fear, felt on both sides, but also assurance that this is right, that it is a fact he softly says, “I... I love you too.”
beat. both staring into the other's eyes. Veritas cups his cheek. thumb drawing small circles, voice but a whisper, “please don't ever leave me” in that moment he is baren, vulnerable, his cards are on the table for the gambler to gamble off or hold tightly to his chest and fold.
Aventurine answers quickly with a small nervous smile, “the same goes for you too, Doc”
with all those emotions being so loud and scary, Veritas cannot keep up a coy act and even when he does Aventurine sees right through him.
“I promise” Veritas utters and seals it with a soft kiss.
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10yo-anon · 8 hours
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☆ DARK RED. ☆
Frat!Satoru Gojo x F!reader
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
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★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
⚠️: ooc!satoru (sorry), not proofread cuz @*the-parasites-control-me seemed busy and i don wanna bother😔, one use of y/n 💔, grammatical errors! I suck ass!!, angsty angsty
WC: 1,258.
A/N: just a 30 minute drabble(?)/fic(?) Cause I absolutely LOVE steve lacy's songs. And his music. So, why not make a fanfic heavily inspired to one of his classic songs I ADORE. Big shoutout to ahem, "dark red 1 hour" cause thats what ive been listening till i finished writing !!, Happy reading, teehee!
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
You lean into the mirror as you apply your pink lipstick on your smiling lips. How could you not smile after Satoru finally agreed on spending time to go to a small date with you?
You were always shocked satoru, godforbid one of the most known frat guy in the campus, gave you, a basic student smitten with him from the start, a chance to go out with him. on how you're actually in a relationship with him.
But a small, annoying, little devil on your left shoulder would always ask you, "are you sure you're in a relationship with him? Does he even see you in a relationship with him? Introduce you to others as his 'girlfriend' ?"
Sure..with his well-earned name as a frat guy along with being in their sorority was..uncomfortable to say the least, he promised his eyes were only looking at you! That he'd never go to any party without your knowledge!
"He already has broken those promises." The imaginary devil sighs out your name. "..Past is past.. no?" You reply silently.
Past.. is every month considered long enough to be called "past"? 'Past' where Satoru could barely drag himself in his (and your's) apartment in the middle of the night, reeking of alcohol and a strong scent of another woman's perfume, neck covered with lipstick marks, love bites, and hickeys, polo lazily and wrongly buttoned. Calling out your name. And when you would rush to him, eyes wide with concern. He would drop down to his knees, clinging to your waist and apologizing with crocodile tears, begging you to not leave him, "Satoru..I don't think I can handle this anymo—" "Please, Baby!..don't you give me up.. please don't give up..on us.!" pleading that he would chance his antics for you, "Then tell me. what are those marks on your neck?" "Its nothing! Believe me honey, I belong with you only..and only you, baby.." as long as you give him one more chance.
One. More. Chance. A broken record he keeps repeating. And you would fall for it. Every time. "Cant you see he's genuinely sorry? You're a monster if you leave him!" The angel in your right shoulder would always shout, its only sad you agree with it. You didnt have any choice but to drag him to bed, whispering sweet reassurance in his ear until he falls asleep, bound to forget the whole conversation, possibly the whole night when he wakes up. While you silently cry yourself to sleep. Heart breaking and aching, only his false words keeping it from disintegrating. "Only you, darling...only you.." "I know, 'Toru." You could only force yourself to stop crying and act like nothing was wrong, dread already in you as you simply wait and ready yourself the next time this will happen again.
But no, you can't possibly leave him, of course you couldnt! You love him! You shake your head and push your thought away, its the future you have to focus on, and the future is your said date, remember!
Your eyes dsrt to the small clock on your table. 6:00 PM. pulling away from the mirror, you admire yourself one last time before going to that expensive restaurant you had reserved using satoru's black card. A simple dress in your favorite color, slight makeup adorning your face. Its good enough for you.
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
It's been what? One— no, two hours since you sat on your reserved seat. Alone. Where was Satoru?
You've noticed the servers giving you looks, some even audibly whispering pity about you, so you take your phone out to ignore them.
Your senses, or that little devil on your shoulder, whispers to you: "somethings bad about to happen to you." Once more, you continue ignoring them. All the voices, the looks. Everything you can ignore. You text Satoru again, only for your texts to be seen. You don't know why, but you feel it coming.
As you shut your phone off, you feel it vibrate, once, twice, three times! It must be your boyfriend!
With a hopeful smile, you quickly open the hidden messages, only to find out it's Geto, satoru's best friend. Your smile slightly drops.
Another wave of dread washes over you as you read his messages.
G-S: *Video attachment.*
G-S: *Location attachment.*
G-S: im sorry, y/n.
Now, your oh-so hopeful smile completely drops. You were afraid to watch the video. But unfortunately, you did.
It was Satoru, sitting on the couch manspread. With one of the most popular girls in another sorority, face caked with make-up, a skimpy skirt and a tube top, on his lap, giggling while she plants hickeys on his neck, all while he plants his hands on her hips and encourages her more, even whispering on her ear to hump him. shamelessly. Laughing when they mention you and responding by rolling his eyes with a smug grin.
You dont realize you tears endlessly flowing, ruining your eyeliner and foundation horribly, not until a waitress runs up to you, genuinely asking if you were okay.
You turn your phone off as soon as you caught you consciousness. You look around, and to your surprise almost everyone was silently looking at you, some giggling, some judging, some concerned. With your head spinning, you hiccup out an apology before dashing out the restaurant, already calling for your best friend to pick you up.
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
Waking up from his drunk slumber, Satoru sits up, quickly noticing he was in a different room with a different girl. 3:36AM. "Ah..shit." He silently panics, remembering you were back at his apartment, possibly waiting for him. As he scrambles out the bed, the girl he doesn't even remember its name was clings onto him. "Mmh..Satoru!~.. W-where r' ya..g..goin..!" "Huh—..sorry..gotta go back to my own apartment.." he rushes to escape her grasp, swiftly slipping on his clothes and attempting to straighten it out. "Hmph! You're going back to your nobody girlfriend again, ar'nt ya.." she whines, pouting her lips out. "Just break up with her already..stay with me..atleast I can pleasure you.." visibly disgusted with her words, Satoru takes his phone before going out the door. "Baby..this is just a one night stand, dont forget."
He opens his phone,
5 messages from "my only one.♡".
His eyes wide with surprise as he opens the notification, only to be greeted with more than 5 messages. Shit. He must have left his phone open while he was.. he'd rather not think of that.
You're messages was from asking about the date to pleading for him to appear, in a span of two hours. He completely forgot about the date.
Before guilt comes to him, he shakes his head. He only had to put on tears and beg for forgiveness, and you would take him back again. It was alright. He was okay.
With a cheeky smile, he walks over to his motorcycle, his mind already planning out his words for forgiveness. Easy.
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
"Baby?..where are you.." He tries to make his voice as weak as he can as he "stumbles" in his and your's apartment. Calling out your name again, dissapointment meets him as there was no answer. Only your pitch black living room.
"Baby?..where are you.." He tries to make his voice as weak as he can as he "stumbles" in his and your's apartment. Calling out your name again, dissapointment meets him as there was no answer. Only your pitch black living room.
Thoughts run to his mind. From "did she finally leave you?" To "how dare she leave you, who does she think she is?" But his thought were answered as he checks the open closet. Barely any of your clothes were there, and the few remaining were either his shirts, or the clothes he gave you. All of it were scattered, as if you rushed to pack your things.
Oh.
★⊹🎧‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚‧ 🎧⊹★
A/N: 2/7 verses done! Can you find the hidden lyrics? :3 n e ways, Part 2? Let me know! But uh.. tommorow will be our school's honor rolls, and I'm 100% sure i won't have honors. For the first time. In my life. Aghh! I saw my brother once when he also didnt get honors in 3rd quarter last year in g7.. he was beaten, grounded, and he said bye to every gadget he had for a month. Soo..uh. I'll be offline for a while! :3 wish me luck !!
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moongoopy · 2 days
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a sweetener amongst death
cont: at the end of the day, two criminals remember they can always come back home to their sweet, oblivious roommate.
c/w: violence, pervy charecters, groping
c: geto x reader x gojo
a/n: i hope for comments and interaction, pls enjoy! (hoping its not too simple and rushed.)
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"May my soul rest-!" were the last words of the cult member. Gojo scraped his shoe across the face of the dead and yawned. He lazily walked to the coach in the middle of the church and laid back at a job well done.
A scoff from his best friend made him giggle, he hung his head back to see geto place down another cult member on the ground.
"This place reeks of sex." "Dont they all?"
Geto ushered Gojo to scoot over on the coach, shutting away his spread legs to let his friend sit next to him. The brunette scanned the papers if they missed anything in the church. the ones who hired them just wanted this cult to fall apart and even that, it was at such a low price too.
The blue-eyed man yawned again to strike a nerve into his best friend before leaning forward,
"Why would you take this, its at the bottom of the list and theres just so many unnecessary things to do.."
Geto got up from the seat, fully ignoring his friend, and pulled the beads that the cult hung up on the wall and into the fire that was still lit. The countless papers that marked the existence of this cult were also thrown in. He chuckled dryly, uttering a few regrets about taking this bounty which Gojo agreed to.
He turned his head to him and lightly smiled.
"Satoru, remember the man that hovered over [Name] when you came back from the bathroom?" A spark was lit in Gojo's eyes as Geto pointed a gun at the doors that opened. A neat man who was dressed heavily entered and he dropped like a fly so quickly that Gojo let out a sharp chuckle. It was sad, the duo was the last thing that he saw before his own cult members but fret not, the leader always joins his cult at the end of the day.
"That's him."
------
Geto felt your fingers curl around his wrist when a supposed priest got near. There was nothing wrong with him other than the obvious signs of him persuading to join a cult along with a flyer of cult members smiling on the front page. Such positive advertising. He was about to politely reject the man, nodding to his repeated utterance of the Lord when he realized what made you so tense.
The priest's hand was wrapped around your waist so snugly and it made you squirm, he thought you were feeling a bit shy to such a persuasive man but you were uncomfortable. Geto steps infront of the priest, thanking him for such an oppurtunity to see them both in his church although the priest's eyes lingered more to you. Oh, the brunette couldn't have that, successfully peeling of the priest's hand off your waist with not much force.
"We'll make sure to come to and my pretty friend of mine is willing to seek such knowledge" This made the stranger delighted, bowing before distributing other flyers not before his eyes lingering hard enough on the person he wanted in his church.
"Hah, who was that?"
Satoru came back with pastries, he sidetracked but atleast he's back, stuffing a pastry into your mouth and not realising the murderous look on Geto's face.
------
"Stop! In the name of the Lord-!" The duo then kicked him around after Geto shot him around his vitals and watched the pervert bleed. Gojo was all ears to Geto's narrative, a horrified look on the bloody man.
"Oh really, Suguru? Tell me more-" Laughter spilled from his lips as he kicked with such force, his friend snarkily adds just how priests just can't keep anything in their pants. The sole of his shoe stomped down on the man's crotch with the other's foot joining in. The priest could probably see hell with how close to death he was, his eyes rolled to the back of his head with a choked scream.
Both of their faces harden but one was more gleeful, watching both their boots knock the life out of the body that dared touched their roommate's.
"We should've let you stay on your knees so you can get the true definition of repentance."
The white haired man then took Geto's gun and shot the priest in the throat. He squatted down over his body and slapped him twice in the face. He tossed the gun back to its owner and gave a double thumbs up. They can finally go home now.
The duo left the church through the back door and trudged to a river.
Geto crouched down near the bankside and took out his weapons and put them to the side to clean.
"Don't you need to clean up?" He washed his hands in the running water, washing his face that was stained with blood that wasn't his. The blue-eyed man stuck his tongue cheekily, confident that he left no traces and crossed his arms. Gojo had a wet cloth thrown at him much to his dismay, he was then forced to clean himself up by the strict orders of his friend.
After a moment, Gojo sighed.
"You could've just told me that pervert went and touched [Name], I thought you went senile for picking such a boring bounty.." Geto smiled, putting his weapons back in his pockets and used the path to walk their way back home.
"But it was worth a suprise, wouldn't you agree?" That made him smile, punching his friend's arm playfully. They both just know what the other likes.
After some thinking about what to have for dinner, you then texted in the group chat that you've made it and to come before it gets cold. The two grinned at each other and raced home.
The door to their apartment swung open and immediately they were engulfed in a hug by you, well if akwardly bent on the knees because its quite hard hugging two people at once.
Gojo leaned into your neck and took a deep whiff in, you smell like heaven; the shampoo that you always used was his favourite. Geto on the other hand held your hand and kissed the side of your neck, you were just so cute he could eat you up. Suddenly, you pulled back with a panicked look.
"B-blood!"
You stepped away and rushed to the laundry room and locked the door. The duo stood there and immediately Geto pulled at Gojo to smell him.
"Hey, what's your deal! I'm clean!" Geto squished his friend's shoulder in his hand, feeling irked.
"Yeah? But did you clean enough? I smell blood on you." He deadpanned and looked towards the laundry room. You had run off in such a hurry so did you know what they really were? They thought of this scenario many times but they didnt know they could fuck up, only because of a certain someone..
"We did bought ropes already so should we like.. I dont know corner them?" That made Gojo receive a punch from the man next to him, originally yes that was the plan but maybe he just wasn't up to it today. He wasn't hoping you would find out so quickly, this little game of cat and mouse was suprisingly fun for him. That he can admit as the duo's eyes gleamed with anticipation,
Geto walked to the direction of the laundry room, knocking on the door.
"[Name]? What are you doing in there?" He said cooly, his hand in his pocket; fingers idly tracing the steel of the knife.
There was silence and a bit of shuffling from the other room and he took out his makeshift key, after all that's how he gets into the houses of his victims. The door clicked and he slowly pushed it open then kicked it with his foot. He grabbed the door before it slammed against the wall to see that you haven't gone anywhere but simply crouched near the washing machine.
There was a bit of guilt on your face and he comes to, crouching to your level. He reached out to cup your face and he was so so close to feeling your lips underneath his thumb before you tilt your head to the side.
"My period came and.. I bled on your sheets by accident. I've been trying to clean it off but yknow.." He softly kisses your forehead, noting the faint blotches of red on the sheets even if the thing went through the wringer twice. He pats your shoulders and gently smiled.
"It was out of your control, sweetheart. It's okay, why dont we enjoy the dinner you made?" The slow signs of you lighting up made his heart full and he guided you out the laundry room with an arm around your waist. He swatted at Gojo who didnt even try to hide the ropes that he carried and turned your head the other way, if you weren't that adamant on looking at Gojo; he'd most likely kick the blue eyed beauty into the washing machine. Atleast, you just remembered the blood on the bedsheets and not the stench from Gojo. Now that Gojo actually took a sniff at himself, there was blood splatters on his dark tank top.
But no worries, atleast it was another day where you'd stay in the dark on who they really were.
After dinner, you sat on the couch squished between them. The news had been dilligently reporting about the cases around the neighbourhood and Gojo tried to hide his satisfaction.
While you, a shiver ran deep through you. These cases were near the apartment complex where all three of you is living in and it scared you. The two noticed, holding you against them.
They coo and brushed comforting hands onto your body, hoping it would calm you.
"Me and Suguru can chase the baddies away!" Gojo joked, squeezing you in his embrace and you nodded vigirously; eyes closed in joy. You didn"t want to say it but their touch was driving you crazy especially since it started from the laundry room. The way Geto held your face sent heat through your body and his thumb.. you had to pull away if not, who knows what would you do instead of feeling guilty on messing up his bedsheets.
And their bodies, their physique. You could feel their chests rub against your body, it took everything not to scream right now. It was like you didn't have to worry about the killers anymore when your raging hormones was speaking for you.
You couldn't help but gulp and stay stiff, their breath against your neck was another thing too, you feel like you were gonna explode from the tension.
And they didnt stop there, Gojo placed his hands inside your shirt since he does that a lot when his fingers get cold and he hooked them under the clasp of your bra. His lips played with your ear and with your nape. Geto switched to something less scary on television and rested his arm around your waist.
"So how was your day, [Name]?"
They silently smirk, loving how you shrink and freeze under their touch. As long as it made you forget about the dangers that you fear that was currently residing in your house, they can continue savouring the feeling of your skin.
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galedekarios · 2 hours
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Keeping this anon, but I hear you hate bloodweave. I was curious on your take to why.
You don't have to reply to this if it makes you uncomfortable thought!!
i'd like to preface this again by saying that this is my opinion. idc what you ship.
i've talked about this here, but i don't mind reiterating my points:
they have no chemistry, to the contrary, gale shuts him down right away during their first talk and ast*rion's manipulation attempts. i assume that gale sees right through him from the beginning. a lot of people love to hc gale as naive as or as completely taken with ast*rion, but it's the complete opposite. i imagine his many years in waterhavian society made him realise quite quickly what type of person he's dealing with. the relationship they have doesn't progress much from that. by act iii they - at best - begrudgingly tolerate each other.
they are diametrically opposed in the things they value as people as well as their morals. gale is kind-hearted, he approves of helping those in need, children, mothers, slaves, refugees, even the animals you meet in-game. he seeks to avoid bloodshed, approves of letting people who want to pay the party back for their help keep their money and belongings. he seeks knowledge and even power not for selfish reasons or a taste for the darker things, but because he seeks to better their odds of survival against a seemingly invincible foe. ast*rion meanwhile is selfish and cruel and vile. he delights in violence and bloodshed, he finds the struggle of people caught in the crosshairs amusing. he is greedy and short-sighted, seeking power for himself, no matter the cost to others.
they are completely incompatible in terms of what they look for in a relationship and a potential partner. gale wants and needs a deeper connection, a tangling of the souls, and he needs someone to be there for him unequivocally, to love him for who he is as he is. he is not taken in by someone's looks or image they present of themselves, nor does he do hate sex / endless bickering / enemies to fwb / etc.
the first things he cites for trusting the protag are their good actions (helping mirkon, helping arabella, seeking to ease the tension between zevlor and aradin), it's all those things that at first make him trust the protag and later - when they unselfishly offer him help, give him artefacts - makes him fall in love with them. sex and immediate gratification isn't important to him. sex is a component - one way in an array of ways to proclaim love.
for ast*rion, it's manipulation first and his entire romance hinges on that. his partner falling for his looks and his text book manipulation into sex. that's already where this breaks apart for me in terms of this ship because that doesn't work with gale.
add to that ast*rion's cruel remarks about gale's when he is need:
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[after gale's background story reveal] You'd have us debate? That Netherese jack-in-the-box should be a blip on the horizon by now!
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[after mystra's demands] I can't believe Mystra's demanding Gale sacrifice himself to destroy the Absolute. It's just a waste of a perfectly good cult that we could be controlling. And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.
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[at the stormshore tabernacle] Well? Go on, then - it's rude to keep a goddess waiting.
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[after orin potentially kidnaps gale] So, we kill Gortash or Gale dies? It's not an easy call. On the one hand, killing Gortash would be fun. On the other, Gale can be very annoying. We should probably save the wizard, though. He does have his moments.
i think it's very clear, given the fact that these reactions range from act i to act iii, that he doesn't give a singular fuck about gale. contrast this to karlach's reactions, or even shadowheart's:
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Karlach: That bloody freak won't get away with this. That's my wizard she took. And we're going to get him back.
(particularly karlach has many reactions like this.)
...unless you play either of them as an origin char and make the most ooc choices, i do not see how this pairing is supposed to work.
additionally, as i've discussed more in my previous post, the parallels people draw between them are shallow at best or can be drawn virtually between any of the other origin companions, or are non-existent at worst. ast*rion having a reading animation that he shares with gale (as halsin and shadowheart do too), or having their tents next to each other (like wyll and gale do in act i) isn't really enough for me.
as i've said previously, i have tried to engage with the pairing because it's sadly inescapable since people often don't bother tagging, but there's nothing except shallow ooc stuff.
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buckyalpine · 7 months
Text
Bucky knows you’re faking
Bucky knows you’re faking. He has no idea where you met this guy or why you’re still with him, in fact Bucky almost feels sorry for him. Because this guy thinks he’s doing a good job. He thinks he’s making you cry from pleasure, he thinks he’s pulling orgasms from you left right and center but Bucky knows.
Becuase he’s heard you. Fucking smelled you.
In your room, all by yourself.
He hears every moan and whimper, all those noises you can’t hold back. The filthy squelching of your pussy making a mess on the sheets is a sound unmatched. You always smell so good after and he can’t get over how soft and sweet you are, all fucked out with a quiver in your voice, not realizing he knows exactly what you’ve been up to with those pretty fingers between your legs.
He’s seen the way you practically glow afterwards, a shy smile on your face, acting like you weren’t moaning like a bitch in heat minutes ago. Always when it’s well past midnight, coming down for a snack, a thin sheen of sweat still covering your skin. He’s usually in the kitchen, having to pretend his cock isn’t aching after hearing how pretty you sound, how desperate and loud you get when you think no one can hear you.
But he can.
Bucky grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, smirking when he heard your less than enthusiastic sounds and silence a few minutes later. He watched carefully as you made your way into the kitchen with nothing but a flimsy robe covering you, eyes growing wide when you realized you weren’t alone.
“Have a fun night?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, struggling to keep his eyes on your face and not the loose knot, so close to letting your robe fall open, giving him access to that pretty body-
“Oh-yes” you shrugged, suddenly feeling hot all over realizing Bucky had probably heard you, “I-um-I don’t think I’ll see him again”
“Why not” Bucky prodded, his curiosity piqued, self-restraint faltering, he couldn't hold back, not when that poor excuse of a robe was begging to be ripped off. “He can’t make you cum, can he princess”
“What?” You stared at Bucky like a deer caught in headlights, frozen on the spot, mouth gaping while he chuckled.
“I said-” he got up from his place at the kitchen island, biting his lip while backing you against the counter, your eyes growing wide feeling his hard, poorly contained bulge press onto you. "He can't make you cum? Can he?"
“I-" You stammered, gripping onto the edge of the counter, surely you were dreaming, there's no way this was really happening, all the fantasies you've thought of coming to life-
“Oh baby” Bucky cooed at your flustered state, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “Don’t get all shy on me now bunny. Was that it? Did he make you cum?”
You shook your head, still nearly frozen like a baby deer, whimpering when Bucky groaned, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Knew you were faking it princess, I've heard you, y'know" Bucky smirked at your gasp, clearly mortified that he'd heard you during your most intimate moments. "Y'sound so pretty when you touch yourself baby"
"Bucky" You whined, not sure what you were begging for, arousal pooling between your legs, spreading your knees slightly to press yourself against his thigh.
"Tell me to stop" his jaw was clenched, gripping onto the single strange of restraint he had, his fingers toying with the knot of your robe.
"D-don't stop" You let out a shuddered breath, shivering when your robe was thrown off before you could blink, Bucky's lips smashing onto yours. His hand gripped the back of your neck, his tongue claiming your mouth as his, teeth nipping and sucking your lip. He lifted you onto the cool marble counter with ease, metal fingers swiping through your folds, gathering your slick before shoving them in his mouth, groaning at the taste.
"You're fuckin' sweet bunny" He didn't give you a chance to respond, prying your thighs apart and dipping down to lick a fat stripe through your soaked cunt before latching onto your clit. You cried out in pleasure, his wide shoulders keeping your legs spared apart.
"B-Bucky!!" Your head was thrown back when he shoved two fingers into you, curling and fucking them into you, moaning when you grabbed onto the roots of his hair, tugging harder the closer you got.
"Already sound so pretty baby" He let out a dark chuckle, kissing your pouty face when he pulled away just before you reached your high, tugging down his sweats to pull his cock out, "Bet you'd sound even better when you're stuffed, hm?"
"Please" You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, practically humping yourself on him, desperate to be filled. His cock was curved towards his tummy, the swollen head dripping with precum. There was something about him still being fully dressed while you were stark naked in the middle of the kitchen that aroused you more, knowing damn well anyone could walk by at any given moment.
"You need a fat cock to cum around, don't you bunny? My bunny's such a little slut, she can't cum unless she has a fat cock fucking her brains out?" He taunted, loving the way you were nothing more than a babbling mess already, moaning when you felt his tip catch against your fluttering entrance.
"Please Bucky, need it"
"I know baby, I know, my poor baby needs cock, doesn't she" His eyes locked with yours as he started to breech your tight hole, your breath catching in your throat at the stretch.
"Breathe, s'just me baby, swear you got my cock so hard-shit" He hissed as he pushed himself to the hilt, pulling out at an agonizing slow pace, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
"Faster Bucky, please-please need you" You tried to get him to move but he shook his head, feeling you flutter around him.
"First tell me what you call be princess, what do you call me when you're all alone with these sweet fingers"
Had Bucky not been holding onto you, you would have fainted; you had no idea he'd also heard the nights where you desperately moaned and came over and over again thinking of him. Bucky smirked against your skin, slowing down the drag of his cock again, snapping his hips suddenly making you squeal.
“C’mon darling, what was that you called me”
“DADDYY” you wailed, wrapping your thighs around his waist when he stated to pound you with a bruising grip around your waist, the clinks of glasses in the cupboards growing louder the harder he fucked you on the counter. "OH-GOD-D-DADDY"
"That's right, daddy's fuckin' you baby, makes me so hard when you call me that" Bucky groaned, thrusting faster, already on the brink of an orgasm. He could feel his cock swell each time you moaned or whimpered, his hand sneaking down to rub your clit.
"N'look at this precious clit, s'this what you're always playing with baby? Always rubbing this needy little button, thinking on one can hear you?"
"F-fuck Buckyyyy" Your eyes rolled back, tears streaming down your cheeks when he rubbed you faster, your first orgasm choking his cock without warning. You couldn't formulate words, letting out silent screams, blinking pleasure consuming you.
"That's it baby, moan for me, cum for me, cum for your daddy baby, know you've never cum for anyone else, go on n'cum for daddy, make daddy proud" Bucky looked feral, grunting with each thrust, desperately holding off his own orgasm, needing to feel you cum around him over and over again.
"OH-DADDY-D-DON'T ST-STOPP"
"Look at you baby, such a good girl for daddy, giving daddy all of her cum" Bucky's eyes were wild, staring at where he cock split you open, his length and trimmed hair covered in your creamy mess. "Daddy wants all of his baby's cream sweets"
"OH FUCCCKK" You wailed, your juices squirting all over his crotch, making it impossible for Bucky to hold off any more as you clung into him.
"So fuckin' proud of you baby, made daddy's cock feel so good, y'know that? Y'make daddy so hard, so horny, you're gonna make daddy cum so hard angel, m'gonna cum so hard for you, Fuck-gonna fill you up bunny-take it-take my cum-fuck-FUCCKK" Bucky roared against your neck as streams of cum started to fill you, his cock throbbing and twitching inside you. You were limp in his hold, passed out from pleasure, your combined mess dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.
You didn't even realize you were tucked under the warmed blankets, wrapped up in a pair of thick, muscular arms, Bucky's large chest acting as a pillow. You nuzzled into him while he softly petted you hair, blissfully unaware it was just the start of a very long night.
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Text
she's mean, and he loves her for it.
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summary: your peers wonder how the ever-so-annoying gojo satoru can stand being in a relationship with you pairing: sunshine!gojo satoru x grumpy!female reader genre: angst, fluff warnings: none
Masterlist
"Did you guys know Gojo-sensei is dating-" Nobara looks around left and right before whispering your name in fear that you might be around.
"Ehhh?" Yuuji's eyebrows knit together. "No way. She's so scary and he's so...happy."
Nobara agrees, "She never smiles -- kinda looks like she has a permanent frown, too. She scares me."
"You think maybe she intimidated him to date her?"
Megumi watches as his two friends bicker about whether you and Satoru look good together, not realizing that you've heard everything they said. Megumi notices you've arrived to teach them and clears his throat, catching the attention of his two friends. He glances at you to check how you're doing after hearing what they said, but as expected, you remain professional and stoic. But Megumi knows better, he grew up under your and Satoru's wings after all.
"Shit." Nobara and Yuuji mutter under their breaths.
-----
It's fairly common for people to question your relationship with Satoru. He's this... happy-go-lucky guy who annoys everyone except those on the same wavelength as him, while you keep to yourself, prioritizing your alone time, and taking things seriously.
Sometimes, too serious.
You never let it get to you, though, because you don't really care what people say. You and Satoru are happy, that's all that matters. Until recently, when those jerk Kyoto students came over to train, they started talking about you and Satoru.
"She's so serious all the time, I don't understand how Gojo puts up with her."
"I think he's scared to breakup with her."
"I bet she's high maintenance."
"Honestly, why is he with her when he can be with someone who's... not so difficult?"
You grit your teeth at that last comment. You can't tell who said what, but it doesn't matter. Their words got to your head and now you're angry. Angry because you're scared they might be right.
Does Satoru think you're difficult? You're not entirely sure how to show them that yes, you deserve Satoru despite being the dark, grumpy person you are.
Sighing, you decide to go home instead of joining the dinner. Satoru's not in there anyway, he just got back from a mission and is waiting for you at home.
Once you close the door to your apartment, you immediately feel Satoru's arm envelope around you from behind. He smells like fresh mint -- just got out of the shower.
"Hi darling," he kisses your cheek.
"Hi, Toru." You take your shoes off and give him a quick peck before making your way to the bedroom to put your stuff down.
Satoru watches you slowly, "hm, aren't you supposed to have that dinner with the Kyoto students today?"
Your jaw clenches, taking a second before shrugging. "Decided to skip it. I'm tired."
He just hums, "In that case, you wanna watch Bridgerton with me after your shower?"
"Again?" You groan, "Isn't it like the third time you've watched it?"
"Yes, and?"
"I'll skip, thanks."
He blows a raspberry and leaves you to shower while he lays down on the couch to watch Anthony Bridgerton fall in love with his Kate Sheffield.
While you were in the shower, the words kept coming back to you. Somehow more exaggerated. You're difficult. He doesn't like you. He's just tolerating you. Why would he be with someone who doesn't even smile? Look at him, Gojo is the epitome of sunshine. You're nothing like him. Why would he like you?
Groaning, you let the hot water wash away your thoughts -- though they don't really go away. Maybe you should just try to be nicer to Satoru, be more cheerful.
After your shower, you see him lying down on the couch while watching his show, and you sit on the other end, silently dreading having to watch the same show again. But you're doing this for Satoru, so you will.
With a satisfied grin, Satoru saunters over and lies down on top of you, his head resting on your chest. You smile softly, enjoying the tight grip he has on you and his soft hair between your fingers.
"How was the mission?" You ask, "Did you have to go to Shoko?"
Satoru shakes his head, "Sweetheart, it's me we're talking about here."
"You can still get hurt, Toru." You pat his hair gently, "I've seen you bleed."
"I'm always careful. Don't worry." He kisses your hand.
You sigh softly. You know Satoru is always careful, it's just that he always goes on missions alone, and more often nowadays that it makes you worry. Yes, he's the strongest, but you never want to take that for granted.
"Toru," You call him again, a little hesitant, "You know I love you, right?"
He lifts his head from your chest, staring at you with those big blue eyes. "Of course. And I love you. So much."
He kisses you deeply, now switching positions so you're lying down on top of him. "So do you want to talk about it?"
"No.." You mumble. Of course, Satoru knows. He isn't stupid. He can sense when something's wrong with you, just like how you can feel the scar on his hip that wasn't there before. He did go to Shoko.
But none of you say anything. You just hold each other tighter that night. It's more than enough.
-----
Satoru is on another mission. It's supposed to be easy, at least that's what he said 3 days ago. You haven't heard from him at all in 3 days and you're beginning to worry. Your frown is deeper than usual, you sigh more often, and your fuse is shorter.
Everyone's more scared of you.
You let the kids take a break while you try to collect your thoughts. You can't be seen so distracted, not when Satoru left you in charge of them.
"You doing okay?" You hear Megumi's voice approach you.
Blinking away the tears that almost fell, you turn around to face him. "I'm fine, Megs."
"I told you not to call me that..." He sulks as he stands next to you, leaning against the wall. He can see you're distraught, and growing up with you, there's only been a handful of times he's seen you like this.
"You know he's going to be fine, right?"
You sigh. "I'm just worried."
You remember once when Satoru didn't come back for a week. He couldn't be reached, no one could track him down, and you were just at home, taking care of Megumi. The boy's more like you than Satoru, he's not exactly sensitive or cheery. But he knows when you're feeling sad, so he'd stay up with you, praying for Satoru's safety.
"Guys!" Yuuji runs towards you and Megumi.
"What is it, Yuuji?"
"It's Gojo-sensei-" He pants, "He's back!"
You run as fast as you can with Yuuji and Megumi, and you can finally see your white-haired, blue-eyed boyfriend limping his way back to the school grounds.
He raises his hand and waves to you with a big smile despite struggling to walk. "Tsk-" You frown even more, feeling the tears pooling again as you walk towards him and catch him in an embrace.
"Umph-" He groans. "Hi, baby."
You let go of him and check his injuries -- he's healed most of it himself, thank goodness, but the bruises are still there. "We need to go to Shoko-"
"Mm, that can wait." He pulls you to sit down on the soft grass, hugging you once again. "It's okay, I'm here now."
You choke on your own sobs and hug him tighter, sitting between his legs and burying your head in his chest. "You idiot."
"'M sorry for makin' you worry," he smiles gently, leaving kisses all over your face.
As you cup his face in your hands, you're suddenly very aware of the 3 pairs of eyes staring at you both. Noticing it too, Satoru covers your red, embarrassed face. "Okay, nothing to see here. Go.. do something. Scram. Skedaddle."
Once the kids are gone, he chuckles and thinks you're being really cute. "They're gone, sweets."
You glare at his teasing smile.
Satoru wipes away your tears, kissing your frown away. "What took you so long?" You ask after kissing him deeply, not letting him go.
A smirk lingers on Satoru's lips. "I took a detour to Kyoto after the mission to teach some kids a lesson."
5K notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 5 months
Note
I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺
I know the feeling, nonnie.
Check Yes or No
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.
Word Count: Over 2.1k
Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.
“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”
He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.
One glance and he belonged to you completely.
“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”
While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.
“I’m Bucky.”
Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.
Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”
Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.
He suddenly wished he was funnier.
“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.
Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.
“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. “Wait!”
You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”
Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”
“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”
“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.
How did he miss you already?
Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.
Which made him happy.
While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.
“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.
Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.
Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.
The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?
He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.
When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.
“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”
He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.
He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.
“Lunch again next week?” You offered.
“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.
But it wasn't a date.
It was time to change that.
Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.
But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.
“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.
“Meow.”
Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.
Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.
“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”
He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.
Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.
Except for him.
“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”
His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.
He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?
To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.
“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. “Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”
Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.
Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.
He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair
Maybe one day.
Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.
Until you smiled again.
“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.
His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.
After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.
“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.
“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”
The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.
That was all he wanted.
You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”
He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”
The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”
“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”
Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.
Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.
“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”
“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.
“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”
Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.
Not once.
Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.
“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”
“It’s a date,” you smiled.
“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.
“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”
Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”
He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.
For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.
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We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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chuluoyi · 4 months
Note
i love your comedy and fluff! but my masochistic heart is itching for more angst to fluff for gojo🥲 and i have this brainrot ever since i read "baby", "protect" and "wife": childbirth gone wrong, that's why he is sooo concerned about your wellbeing during your maternity leave~
࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 09:45 P.M 」
tw: childbirth. there are two very same ask for this now and so that's the cue for me to practice my crack/angst more :3 okay this is basically an extended version of protect's epilogue and oh, it's a happy ending! mini sequel -> 11.10 p.m
a part of gojo's love entries
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“you’re always doing whatever you want! ow!”
“deep breaths, sweets. deep brea—”
“easy for you to say! you don't contribute anything other than shoving that damn stick into me! and now i’m left with the consequences!”
“i kindly remind you that you very much enjoyed my stick that night—”
“i hate you!”
satoru looked at your tear-streaked face and patted you in the head—his notable love language, erupting into laughter. “of course you do.”
lying on the hospital bed, tears welled up in your eyes as you roasted your husband and your contractions kept getting closer together. three hours after you woke up to your labor pains, all you could feel was that you were ready to burst.
gripping his hand tight, you purposefully dig your nails in just to spite him. “i’m serious. i hate you. you’re not putting me up for this again!”
“you say that now, but the moment we are home, those words are going to be null and void,” satoru snorted in an attempt to lighten the mood, ignoring the slight pain you inflicted on him, because what was this compared to what you were going through?
but his facade dropped as soon as breath was knocked out of you and you whimpered. he instantly gathered you in his arms.
“hey, hey... take deep breaths...” when you did, he planted a tender kiss on your damp forehead. “that's it, there you go... the baby's going to be here real soon, okay?”
you panted, limp in his hold as dull pain overwhelmed you. “yeah... your baby.”
“our baby, love. not just mine,” he corrected, smiling. he had one hand on your swollen belly, palming the subtle firmness, and gently rubbing it. “our munchkin.”
“i’m just the container though.”
“heh, no,” he chuckled softly. “you're everything.” his eyes crinkled affectionately, a hint of laughter still in his voice, and your heart actually melted when he whispered: “my everything.”
truthfully, despite your bravado, you were scared shitless. yet, as you nestled your head against your husband's strong chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his reassuring heartbeat, and when you gazed into his eyes, you were sure, because he exuded confidence as if he had no doubts that this was going to go perfectly fine.
and so holding onto him you did. he held your hand through it all, talked you through your pain, and you were so, so grateful to have him by your side.
the next hour was a blur, as excruciating pain blinded your senses. you were wailing when everyone told you to push, and you gave it your all. you kept it up even as you felt like being torn apart.
and before you knew it, cries unlike any other, ones you had only imagined until that moment, echoed through the room.
“he's here!��� satoru's hitched voice reached your ears, and you went slack, falling back to the sheets.
you were completely spent and all you could register was that the cherished baby both you and satoru had been waiting for was here. you shivered, your mind tuning in and out—lightheaded, wondering why you felt so drenched down there.
“holy shit! i can't believe it! i can’t—” if you were awake enough, you would realize that it was one of the rarest times when satoru was choked with emotions. he turned to you. “i—”
and suddenly you felt strange. an eerie chill seemed to engulf your entire being. your hand slipped from satoru's grasp as your vision dimmed, the world growing darker.
“are you okay? hey—” his voice sounded distant, and you struggled to keep your eyes open. satoru finally realized that something was wrong, as his six eyes discerned the rapid dwindling of your cursed energy, and the room reeked of the tangy scent of blood.
you barely made out the nurse's shouting next. “blood pressure is dropping!”
"come on!" now he was utterly panicked and tried to get a hold of you, shaking you slightly. “hey, stay awake—look at me, i’m right here, please—”
but to his horror, your head lolled back as you lost your consciousness. soon, he was thrown out of the delivery room. just like that, in one sick twist, his world was crumbling down hard and fast.
a sense of helplessness washed over him as he stood outside the room, barred from being by your side. inside, you were bleeding out, and he was unable to do anything but wait.
didn't he say he would protect you with everything he had? once again, gojo satoru was humbled—not everything was in his grasp. he couldn't save those chosen by fate not to be saved.
suddenly, it felt like suguru all over again, except the stakes were higher. he shuddered—his fist clenched so hard that it drew blood, while his other hand clutched his chest, desperately willing the searing pain away.
would he really lose you this way? the sheer thought made his ears ring. no fucking way. even hell knows he'd go berserk. would fate really let him decimate anything in his path? surely, no... right?
he was unaware that he had been murmuring these silent prayers when the doors slid open, revealing the doctor who had been assisting with your delivery earlier with the news. it was a case of a postpartum hemorrhage, she said, an unfortunate incident.
all things considered, you were going to be okay. that knowledge alone was enough to make him breathe freely once more.
when he was allowed to see you, the moment your eyes blinked open, the first thing he did was burying his head in the crook of your neck.
and there you have it—the first time you had ever seen him really shaken to the point of shedding tears.
“you scared me,” he rasped, voice thick with emotion. “i—i can't stop thinking— if you really left me—”
“i’m fine now...” you were somewhat wonderstruck by the knowledge that you had this potent hold over him. oblivious to how your soft voice calmed the depths of his soul, you stroked his hair, and he breathed in your scent, grateful to every force imaginable for returning you back to him.
“sleep,” he gently pulled away, his eyes rimmed with red, his fingers caressing your cheek. “you need it. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”
“the baby—”
“they just cleaned him up. he's resting too,” satoru reassured with an impossibly tender smile, and his next words made your heart lurch.
“my strong girl, you did it. you're a mother now… thank you. thank you... for making me the father to our child.”
you felt like you might burst into tears. you felt so loved, so secure, even after you went through the most challenging ordeal in your life. and as you drifted to your rest, you could hear the love of your life whisper in your ear ever so lovingly—
“i know i have said it before, but i’ll say it again. with everything it is that i have, i swear to you, nothing will befall you and our baby, for i will spare nothing and give everything for both of you... even my own life.”
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oh-katsuki · 3 months
Text
it's been a really long time since i wrote porn for porn's sake. here u go. it's alpha nanami :)) i don't have a title for it oops
cw: alpha!nanami, omega!reader, a/b/o, breeding, knotting, heat and rut cycles, dubcon on both sides, fingering, cohabitation, taboo, protective nanami, i feel like there is a slight primal kink in here, light dacryphilia,
wc: 3.1k
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nanami didn't mean to take in a stray, but that's sort of how it happened. you're staying with him until a particularly careless friend helps to find a suitable living arrangement for you. nanami really isn't sure how it became his problem, but he'd feel awful if he'd told satoru no and left you without somewhere to go, no matter how against living with an omega he is.
frankly, nanami doesn't support the idea of alphas and omegas living together. he thinks it's a bit perverse. there's far too much at risk and the situation can become dangerous if it's the wrong pairing. sure, sometimes it works out. the better of his kind (of which he considers himself to be) give the necessary space and resist the temptation, but the others... take it too far. it'd be easier for you to live with a beta, and nanami wonders why satoru didn't first go to one of them. maybe your pheromones are weak and satoru isn't worried. that's probably why he hadn't noticed them when satoru first brought you by to ask if it'd be okay.
he knows that second gender is a spectrum. some alphas and omegas hardly emit any pheromones at all, even during heat and rut cycles. nanami thinks he likely falls into this category, seeing as he's never been particularly tempted by an omega and very few have ever been all too tempted by him, but it's a gamble. it's—frankly—unethical to ask this of him and though nanami knows that he should have said no, something in his good nature compelled him to say yes.
you've weak pheromones too, he thinks. he, of course, can feel them to a degree, but seeing as you mostly keep to yourself, it's hardly a problem in the first few weeks. frankly, the most tempting thing about you is that you're beautiful. you seem to have an almost standoffish air about you, proud and dignified, with a preference towards a more solitary and observant lifestyle. most of the day, the two of you hardly even see each other, going about your lives entirely separately only to settle into the same house for bed at night.
you don't say much when you're home. in fact, nanami would wonder if you could speak at all if it weren't for the conversations he hears you having on your phone and the little laughs or eyerolls you give in response to his comments. there's understanding there, but it's silent and you hardly ever dignify nanami's words or invitations with a response. maybe you're airing on the side of caution. he wouldn't blame you if you are. so, for the next two weeks the two of you coexist without so much as a hello between you both, silently sharing a space. you stay out of the way and nanami pretends that he isn't slightly unsettled by your constant proximity and the creeping feeling that you don't really like him all too much.
"they're a little difficult," says gojo over the phone. "kinda standoffish and really smart."
"so i've noticed," nanami responds. "i can't say i blame them though. you've put us in a weird spot."
"oh, nanamin, i know you well enough to know that you wouldn't lay a hand on them even if they begged," satoru laughs. "and they really might."
nanami grimaces at satoru's statement.
"i still don't understand why it had to be me," nanami says flatly. "you could have called ijichi. it'd probably be safer."
"how noble," satoru snickers, "but i trust you. hang in there a few more weeks. we've been working on securing an apartment for them and once we do, they'll be out of your hair. you're an angel for letting them stay." he sing-songs into the receiver. nanami holds it away from his ear.
"sure," he says. "it's not really much trouble... it's just.."
"that they're an omega. i get it. stay strong or whatever lol," satoru laughs. "unless of course, you really like them."
nanami huffs and hangs up the phone. satoru's got a good head on his shoulders, but he knew where that conversation was going. satoru was likely to say something about your heat cycle and nanami, being an optimist in cases like these, hopes silently that it won't come for another two weeks. he knows he could ask, but he worries about coming across as something of a creep. nanami is a little orthodox in the sense that he believes alphas and omegas should be separate for this reason exactly. suppressants exist but they don't always work and though nanami has sense about him, he's always had an insecurity about the kind of monster his second gender could make him. it sets him at ease a little that your pheromones appear as weak as they are.
you round the corner into the living room, standing just on the far end of the room. you're wearing pajamas, but you seem to feel no need to cover yourself or hide any perceived indecency. nanami glances at you, making a point to avoid looking at the shape of your body. it's inviting and you look at him for a moment with a small smile before raising one single eyebrow and letting out a low huff of air. nanami decides that you'd heard his conversation and he watches you shake your head as you move to the kitchen to peruse what he has. your hips, swaying slightly with each step, draw his attention to the curve of your ass and he feels ashamed for even having looked.
you're beautiful, that's certain. even the way you move is beautiful. nanami has eyes enough to see that. something stirs inside of you when he speaks, wordless recognition, maybe amusement or irritation, and vice versa. regardless, it's beautiful and nanami finds that the longer you're here the more he has to swallow it down.
you seem to get a little uncomfortable if nanami has people over, even for a moment. not that you've ever said anything about it, but you appear set on edge when he does so in the following weeks, it leads him to not bring anyone over at all. he can't bear the idea of making you uncomfortable. for as little as you've spoken to him since you've been here, nanami finds that he's grown rather fond of you. if things continue this way, he should hate it when you leave. admittedly though, he's looking forward to it a little. nanami feels that you're... a temptation. one he can't really seem to overcome.
one evening, you sit down in the living room with him. it draws his attention to look at you.
"i'm not mean, you know," you say flatly.
nanami is astounded to hear the cadence of your voice so clearly and without prompt. he can only offer a nod in return.
"i'm just picky," you continue, shifting in your seat as if you're made uncomfortable by the way you're sitting. "i have to be, being the way i am and all."
"i understand. i'm not offended," nanami says. "but some people would probably call that rude."
you smile at him, coy and delicate. "would you?"
"maybe," he offers. "if the circumstances were different."
nanami clears his throat, furrowing his eyebrows at your body language. something's off and he wonders if maybe your cycle has begun. he shifts on the couch and turns his full attention to you.
you move over to him and sit just adjacent to his leg. something in him stirs, primal and unrecognizable. you've never been this close and he only now notices that you smell nice, like something light and fresh.
nanami feels his chest stir. "this is the most you've ever said to me, i think."
"sorry," you say.
"don't be," he responds.
this conversation is awkward. it's loaded. it's like a conversation between two people who can't exchange more than a few words without experiencing intense sexual tension. he clears his throat.
"i need your help," you mumble, shifting closer. he knows what you're implying.
"i can't help you," nanami responds through gritted teeth.
"please," you say, standing slowly. you linger in front of him for a moment before reaching out and slowly straddling his legs. nanami flinches as you settle on him, pausing for a moment to breathe. "touch me."
you place your head against his shoulder, fingers grabbing his shirt as if you're agitated. the skin of your cheek is warm against his collarbone and he can feel your hair against his jaw. you twitch lightly when you touch him. carefully, he places a large hand on your head. your whole body flinches, unbelievable warmth soaking into his skin.
you feel like you have a fever and the next time you raise your head, your eyes have gone glassy, face darker. your lips are wet and lightly parted and a layer of sweat covers your forehead.
"not like that," you say, something needy creeping into your voice.
nanami, against his better judgement, rests his hands on your waist. you shudder under his touch and he slowly strokes the exposed skin of your sides with his fingers. trailing the pads of them against raised goosebumps on your skin. between your legs, he can feel heat. he knows you're wet and he knows what you want. nanami isn't sure he can give it to you, he's unsure that he should. it's not illegal, but he feels that it's wrong. something about it is fundamentally wrong and the situation goes against all of his morals. his mind still wanders.
you rest your forehead against his chest, and he feels your pheromones as they hit his nose and soak in through his skin. his body responds, tensing. your breath picks up, little heaves and pants, and you squirm down against him almost involuntarily. nanami feels himself grow hard. it surprises him and shames him. he feels heat rise to his cheeks at the realization that he's pressing up against the inside of your leg, something that makes you stir and settle directly over him. every exhale from you is a borderline whine and the syrupy smell of you grows more intense by the moment. nanami still runs his fingers along your sides, venturing over your tummy and back occasionally.
"just a little bit," you command, rubbing your cheek against him and then placing your mouth on the side of his neck and biting. "i'm sorry. just a little bit."
nanami winces and you drag your hips over him. his hands fly to yours, gripping hard enough as you make you whine.
"i can't," he grits out, speaking directly against the way his cock throbs against your core. he can feel it's dampness, a humidity that soaks through his pants.
"it hurts," you mutter and nanami feels an unpleasant stirring in his stomach. he hates the thought of you being uncomfortable.
"maybe we can find help-" you twitch over him, making him wince, "for you."
you shake your head, "you."
nanami exhales and tips his head back, his fingers still on your waist. he weighs the outcomes of this in his mind. he could push you off and fix you a blanket and a safe space, give you some tools to help yourself and then plug his ears and pretend he doesn't want to do it himself. he imagines the buzzing sound, the way you'd whimper from the other room over, still unfulfilled despite the aid. he thinks about your fingers between your legs, unsatisfying and only serving to worsen the itch. it makes him strangely jealous, nauseous almost, that you should be so uncomfortable in his presence.
you exhales against him and it's a near defeated sound. nanami's fingers buzz with adrenaline, his cock swelling and throbbing every time you so much as shift over him. there's a lack of control in this situation and his fingers move to comfort you almost against his will.
something natural and easy takes over as he slides a big hand down to the front of you and cups your cunt. it feels almost like an out of body experience, but both yours and nanami's humanity drips away slowly to make room for these primal actions. you shudder and nanami's chest swells with relief as he sees your expression. there's a need within him to care for you. it's protective, the same way he'd feel if you were in physical danger.
nanami moves his four fingers over you slowly, his breathing hitching as you push your body against him. he can feel your dampness soaking through your thin shorts and it isn't long before your relief gives way to more need.
"just this once, nanami," you breath against his neck. "please."
nanami's head is filled with something syrupy. probably you. it's probably a chemical reaction caused by you and he knows that any pheromones you're releasing are probably being released in equal amounts by him. they take up space in the room, crowding him so that all he can focus on is you, is the need between your legs that calls to him like song.
"okay," he gives in, pulling your panties to the side and dipping his fingers into you.
you shudder and let out a short cry, thighs trembling. he knows he won't be able to satisfy you like this, but he wants to try. nanami knows though that there is no such thing as nipping it in the bud with these sorts of things and as he begins to move his fingers inside of you with a beckoning motion, he feels himself slip farther away.
you're so wet, dripping down his fingers. your pussy clenches around them, begging for a knot, sucking the two digits up into you and then threatening to push them out. nanami has been with omegas before, but he's never felt himself slip away like this. his humanity leaves him in favor of something animal.
nanami shushes you quietly as he pulls his fingers from your body. you whine and squirm against him, pressing down and grinding against the bulge in his pants. he sucks in a sharp breath and quickly discard your bottoms, leaving you bare and exposed in his lap.
your cunt is sticky and shining, glistening with your wetness. he can smell it, the way you're probably fertile, and the perverse thought crosses his mind that maybe you deliberately avoided your suppressants so that he could do this to you. how out of character for him to think that.
for someone so proper, he makes quick work of pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. you push your body forward to try to take him in and nanami very quickly slides into you. you're tight and with the way your cunt makes him feel, he knows that the stretch must hurt you, but he can't seem to stop. he's so focused on quelling the ache within you, buried deep in that spot where his knot will inevitably catch.
you are barely capable of forming words now, dumb and deaf with your heat. any words of comfort nanami offers to you seem to go in one ear and out the other, but he offers them anyway. they're automatic and they come without his even needing to think about them. things about taking care of you, about knotting you the way you're begging him to, about making sure you're never alone when you have to do this. if he were in a better state of mind, he'd be mortified.
instead, he fucks his hips up into you, holding you by the waist against his throbbing cock. then, when that isn't enough, he lays you on your back on the couch and presses your knees to your chest so that he can go deeper. he needs to get deep enough to where his knot will catch, to be able to stay there to ensure it catches properly. he feels the way air leaves you with every fuck of his hips.
you raise your hand to touch his face, eyes glassed over and watering as gentle tears slip down your cheeks. a silent encouragement that pulls him from his thoughts back to you. nanami turns his head instinctively and kisses the palm of your hand. then, he takes your thumb into his mouth and bites down on the fleshly part at the base of it. he could draw blood if he wanted, but he doesn't. instead he takes your hand as it falls from his lips and kisses you plainly again on the palm before pinning it above your head.
"i'll take care of you," he grunts out and you nod deliriously.
nanami makes quick work of knotting you. he bullies his cock as far in as it will go, swelling and swelling until he sticks. you squirm as he does, gasps growing higher in pitch until you're silenced by the pressure deep in your abdomen. you cum around him, he thinks, pussy fluttering as it throbs around his knot. then, you exhale as the heat recedes into the background with this momentary relief.
nanami winces as he holds himself up over you, slowly returning to his head as the swell of pheromones recedes and leaves only the feeling of the space he takes up in your cunt.
you search his face for something, benevolence maybe, and nanami places a wide palm to your cheek.
"i'm sorry," he breathes as words find him again. "i didn't intend to-"
you shake your head, returning to yourself as well. "don't be, i wanted to."
nanami isn't really sure what to say and you wince under him as he settles his weight a little further, throbbing lightly at the mention.
"hold me," you ask and nanami obliges. he settles fully over you before lifting you so that you're straddling his lap again. you wince and nanami soothes you by gently stroking your face. it's automatic again, the urge to comfort you is well beyond his control.
something in you triggers something in him and it is two full days before either of you are lucid and well enough to separate. satoru calls him multiple times, but nanami ignores him, too preoccupied with his unexpected rut and keeping you comfortable. at present, he's well past the initial guilt and frankly, entirely hellbent on deciding that you should stay. so much for his practicality, nature won out in the end.
nanami doesn't really think he'll ever hear the end of this, especially not from satoru who, when he inevitably gets a hold of them, will tease so relentlessly that it might shock nanami and you back into your senses. he decides to hide out here with you for a little longer, filling the room with the scent of you both until it crowds out everything else. he likes the way you feel nestled up beside him, messy and breathing deeply as you sleep.
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a tag for my friends @antizenin and @kentocidal bc they asked!!!
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roosterr · 8 months
Note
Hi idk if you're accepting requests but I literally just read the amnesia fic, and I was wondering if I could request where reader suddenly remembers everything, and sprints around base trying to find them, and just jumps on them crying and apologizing for forgetting them. Just some really fluffy comfort? It's okay if you don't want to write this lol
the 141 when you have amnesia – p2
note: i have received your therapy bills :)
wc: 5.2k
warnings: still a bit angsty I'm sorry I couldn't resist, fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injury and blood, happy endings for all I promise
ao3
[part one]
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✹ john thought your initial reaction was a good sign. you seemed to be taking things well, considering the extent of your injuries, and it was only a matter of time before your memories returned.
✹ your spirits are high when you're reintroduced to the team, and though you don't remember them either you do say they feel familiar, which he takes as a good sign for your recovery.
✹ when you're finally discharged, he takes you home, to the house that the two of you bought together. he shows you the photos of the two of you that decorate the walls, fondly retelling the stories of each one to you even though you were there, and these are your pictures.
✹ if you notice the way he chokes up when you get to your wedding photos, you don't say anything.
✹ like the true gentleman he is, he insists on sleeping on the sofa and leaving you to take the bed, despite your protests about it being his home too. even though you were receptive, he would never risk making you uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed when he was, essentially, a stranger.
✹ in all your years of marriage, he's never slept on the sofa before. the two of you rarely go to bed without each other, apart from the times you're separated by your job, and consequently he finds himself not getting much rest.
✹ you're still on leave while you're physically recovering from being in a coma, so john has to go to work without you every morning, something he also hasn't done since you got married. he wishes he could bring you with him anyway, just to have you near him, but he knows that's selfish and you still need time.
✹ the base is dull without you.
✹ again, he keeps up the appearance that he's okay, and maybe it's a little more true this time now that you're actually awake, but he still feels your absence like a weight on his shoulders.
✹ the other three are pleased amongst themselves about your recovery, gaz and soap constantly asking him how you are; and he knows they mean well, but it's still irritating because how could you be okay? you don't even remember your own husband, nothing about this is okay.
✹ he keeps his grievances to himself though. he's still their captain, he can't afford to fall apart when he still has a job to do.
✹ he's woken up one night by soft footsteps in the living room. his neck aches as his eyes snap open, every sense on high alert until he realises it's just you. a quiet grunt escapes him as he sits up, massaging his sore muscles from sleeping on the sofa.
✹ when the sound of muffled crying reaches his ears, he's immediately on his feet, his heart racing as he shuffles over to where you're standing with a hand covering your mouth.
✹ he presses a hand to your back, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. you don't look at him, your crying only increasing in volume now you're not worried about waking him.
✹ now that he's right next to you, he sees through the darkness that you're holding one of your wedding photos. it's his favourite picture, the one where he's lifting you with an arm around your waist and you're both gazing into each other's eyes with the most lovestruck expression on your faces.
✹ "i– i know i love you, so wh-why can't i just remember you?" you sputter in between sobs, and you might as well have just ripped his heart out of his chest, because he can't stop the way he breaks down at your words.
✹ john wraps both arms tightly around you, caging you to his chest and nestling your head into the crook of his shoulder while pressing his own tear-stained face into the top of your head.
✹ "it's alright, love–" his voice cracks pitifully, and he's never felt quite as hopeless as he does in this moment. "it'll be alright, you'll remember, i promise…"
✹ he's not sure who he's trying to convince, you or himself as you both sink to the floor in each other's embrace. you stay like that for hours, crying for your lost memory into the early morning.
✹ after that, he can't be bothered to pretend he's okay anymore.
✹ he starts drinking again, shamelessly in the middle of the day and grumbling at gaz and ghost when they wrestle the bottle away from him. he knows you'd disapprove, but the toll of lying to himself and everyone around him has caught up. all he wanted was his partner back, the love of his life, you.
✹ the others try to knock some sense into him, but talking to him becomes like going back and forth with a brick wall. gaz even gets kate on the phone to yell at him, but nothing seems to get through. he orders them to leave him alone, stop asking about you, and it really feels like he's lost hope.
✹ it goes on like this for a week straight, nearly a full month since you first woke up.
✹ and then one boring afternoon, there's a commotion outside his office. john hears cheers and shouts from down the corridor, but he can't bring himself to care enough to investigate.
✹ he's not in the mood to celebrate whatever it is they're cheering about anyway.
✹ john's just about to stand and yell at them to shut up, but then you're suddenly standing at his door, slamming it behind you as you rush over to his desk. his face must be the picture of surprise as he swivels in his chair to follow you as you approach, opening his legs for you to stand between them.
✹ his breath catches in his throat as you cup his face, your touch so tender it has his heart hammering against his sternum like the very first time you touched him all those years ago. he plants his hands firmly on your hips, too afraid of getting his hopes up to say a single word as he watches you get closer.
✹ your face hovers just above his, warm breath fanning over his face as you inch ever closer. he sees your eyes glistening before they flutter shut, brushing your lips against his with an anticipation that has his skin tingling.
✹ when you pull away, his eyes stay closed, but he can hear the smile in your voice when you whisper,
✹ "i remember you now."
✹ his heart might’ve actually stopped at your words, surprise shooting through him like a bolt of lightning as his eyes snap open.
✹ in a second, he's lifting you by the waist and dropping you onto his desk, uncaring for the various papers that he brushes out of the way to make room for you.
✹ he can't stop the overjoyed laugh that rumbles in his chest now he's the one standing between your legs, gripping your face and pushing his lips back against your with all the passion he's been bottling up during your recovery.
✹ you smile into the kiss too, wrapping your arms securely around his neck, running your fingers up his neck and through his hair. it feels like a weight has lifted, something heavy in the back of his mind finally dissipating and allowing him to relax into your hold.
✹ the two of you break away after a moment, keeping him close to you as you press your forehead to his. "i'm sorry that i ever forgot you."
✹ "i can think of a way you can make it up to me, love…"
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gaz
✹ you're so apologetic about your amnesia, it breaks his heart all over again. what's worse is that he has no idea what to do; he doesn't want to try and force you to remember, that would just stress you out more, but he wants you to remember him so desperately he feels it ache in his bones.
✹ in the end, he decides to just let things play out. he wants you to recover at your own pace, and not just because of him and how he feels about you.
✹ he also doesn't say a word about your relationship, but with how he initially reacted, he's sure you got the idea. you don't mention it either, which admittedly hurts a little, but he's sure the confusion of waking up to having a boyfriend who's name you don't even know is worse than how he feels about it.
✹ kyle vows to take care of you the moment you're discharged. he takes you to your room, shows you where everything is, makes sure you know where he is should you ever need anything, and he even introduces you to the others again.
✹ you still remember your job and how to do it so, once you're physically well enough, you get right back to it. they carry on as normal, the rest of the taskforce – assimilating you back into their nights of drinking and fucking around as if you'd never left.
✹ kyle still doesn't feel right about it.
✹ he doesn't want to treat you like glass, because you're exactly the same as when he first met you. you're still quick-witted, stubborn, and one of the toughest people he knows, you just… don't know him.
✹ it kills him on the inside, but he stays strong for you; the last thing he wants is to become the mess of a man he was when you were out, he doesn't want you to see him like that. he sorely misses spending his nights with you, and talking endlessly about your days to each other. he sends you longing glances every time you look away, wondering if you'd ever feel the same again.
✹ if you can go back to living normally, why can't he?
✹ but as the weeks go by, kyle notices how you start to withdraw, the loneliness that blocks out the light in your eyes that he loves so much. you fade into the background of conversations, sticking to listening rather than engaging.
✹ you watch them from afar, and he still knows you well enough to know what's going through your head. feeling somehow like you belong and also like an outsider at the same time, wishing you could understand the inside jokes you were a part of.
✹ he wishes more than anything that there was something he could do – make you understand that you're wanted, and you're a valuable part of the team even without your memories, but any time he brings it up you simply brush him off with that far away look in your eyes.
✹ three weeks go by before anything changes.
✹ it's the first time in a while they finally have an afternoon off, so of course they decide to spend it playing football on one of the fields within the bounds of the base. soap and ghost on one team, gaz and the captain on the other, with you spectating and keeping score on the sidelines. 
✹ kyle offered to sit out if you wanted to play, but you'd brushed him off with the excuse of wanting to rest and read your book, laying out your jacket on the grass to sit on.
✹ he could tell you weren't all there, but he didn't know how to help you; so he just reassured you that you could call him over if you needed anything, and left you to guard his own jacket and water bottle before running off to join the game.
✹ the whole time he was sprinting around the field, he couldn't stop looking over to you over by the sidelines. he wasn't with it, he hadn't been since you woke up, really, and the others could tell.
✹ price abruptly calls half-time, clapping gaz on the shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "just talk to 'em, before it eats you alive." he chides, pushing him in your direction before he can think to protest.
✹ with a deep sigh and a glace backwards to the others, who shoo him away without a word, he jogs over to where you're sitting. the way the late afternoon sun hits you just right stops kyle dead in his tracks when he catches how it glows in your eyes. he feels a pull in his chest as he approaches you.
✹ you look up from your book as his shadow reaches you, shooting him a tiny smile as he drops himself next to you. he takes a swig from his water bottle as he catches his breath, extremely conscious of the way your teammates are pretending not to watch him while he comes up with the words.
✹ "so, who's winning then?" you ask, turning so you're facing him. he sees how your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes.
✹ "aren't you supposed to be keepin' score?" kyle chuckles, shifting slightly closer to you as you look away with a bashful expression. he allows your hands to brush, wanting nothing more than to lock your fingers together.
✹ "i'm not really paying attention."
✹ there's a beat of silence and that helpless feeling is back as he watches you look back out to the field, where the others are still kicking the ball back and forth.
✹ "how you doin'?" he asks, keeping his voice low as he leans in even closer to you. your mouth opens to respond, that slightly off smile back on your face, but before you can he places his hand fully over yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. "actually."
✹ you sigh, heavy and tired, and bring your gaze back over to his. "it's… hard." you begin, your eyes betraying the internal struggle. "and i'm… i know, before, we were–"
✹ he blinks and you're being sent over backwards by a football flying into your face with a smack that makes kyle's ears ring.
✹ immediately he's crouching over you, helping you sit back up and pressing the sleeve of his jacket to your nose, uncaring for the blood that stains it.
✹ "you alright?" he murmurs, gently holding your face as he inspects your nose. you nod, wincing at the movement, and take the sleeve of his jacket from him.
✹ once he's sure you're okay, his vision turns red with anger. it's pretty obvious who kicked the ball when he whips around to see soap kneeling on the ground with his head in his hands.
✹ "oi!" kyle shouts, sending him a deadly glare as he gets up. "soap, what the fuck!"
✹ the man in question looks up from his hands, an incredibly guilty look on his face. "i'm sorry pal! i dinnae ken what happened!"
✹ "just piss off, you prick!"
✹ kyle looks back to you, crouching down again with a concerned frown; but you're already looking at him, the silhouette of his own form reflected in your wide eyes. your nose is still dripping blood, but you drop his jacket and your hands to your lap anyway, mouth agape as you stare back at him.
✹ "what's wrong? are you–"
✹ you cut him off by tackling him to the ground with your arms around his neck, squeezing a surprised 'oof' from him as you land on top of his chest. one of his hands flies to your waist to steady you, the other carefully cradling your head.
✹ "i remember!" you cry, an elated laugh bubbling up as fresh tears wet your cheeks.
✹ kyle lets out a relieved laugh of his own, craning his neck to plant his lips firmly on yours with an infectious grin. in the background the others groan at the display of affection, but neither of you pay them any mind.
✹ eventually the two of you pull away, a wide smile still plastered on both of your faces as you get up from the grass. he pulls you in with the hand that still hasn't moved from your waist and leans to whisper in your ear,
✹ "fancy kickin' soap's arse?"
✹ "you read my mind."
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soap
✹ johnny's enthusiastic with your recovery. anyone could've guessed that from the moment you woke up he'd be doting, eager to help you in any way you could need.
✹ yes, you didn't remember him, but be was just so ecstatic that you were okay – apart from the amnesia – that he couldn't find it in himself to be disappointed about it. you'd get your memories back soon enough, and then everything would go right back to the way it was.
✹ sometimes he gets a little carried away, forgets that while you are technically in a relationship, he's not much more than a stranger to you right now. more than once you end up having to ask him for some space because he's so incredibly touchy, and you're not sure how to handle it.
✹ you also request a temporary room to sleep in while you recover, separate from him. johnny's not sure how he feels about it.
✹ he feels that sinking feeling in his chest whenever you push him back with a hand on his chest, a polite smile tugging at your lips. it's disheartening, but he tries not to let it get to him. you'll remember soon, and then this will all be in the past.
✹ maybe you'll even laugh about it, how you could ever forget your wonderful boyfriend.
✹ he takes it upon himself to read up on amnesia, so he can better understand how to help you in any way you might need. once he learns that exposure to memories that you've lost can help your recovery, he eagerly convinces you to let him show you places that have meaning to you and your relationship with him.
✹ you agree, and he didn't actually need to do much convincing because you seem just as interested in the idea as him. he knocks on your door the following evening, offering you a single rose before whisking you away with a charming smile.
✹ he takes you on your first date all over again, with the same level of enthusiasm as before. he treats you to dinner at a relatively nice restaurant, telling you all about how the two of you got together in the first place, and memories you have together. he even orders you dessert, recalling with a chuckle how he accidentally guessed your favourite on your actual first date.
✹ once you both finish eating, he guides you by the hand to the canal for the second half of the date, a romantic moonlit stroll by the water. he pulls you close with an arm around your shoulders, meeting your eyes with a fond smile and a blush dusting his cheeks.
✹ "hold on…" you mutter, a pensive expression taking over your face as you stop walking. you turn to gaze at the water, seemingly working something out in your mind. "this… this is where gaz fell into the river that one time, right?"
✹ johnny's heart misses a beat, his eyes lighting up with renewed, excited hope as he grins at you. "you remember?"
✹ "a little, yeah," you smile, dropping your gaze and hands from his with a sorry scratch at the back of your neck. "the rest is still blank, though…"
✹ his smile falters, but he's quick to make sure you don't see his disappointment by pulling you into a reassuring hug. "that's still somethin'! you'll be good as new in nae time!"
✹ the next morning, he finds you and gaz in the rec room on one of the couches, talking animatedly with each other. that familiar shine is in your eyes, the sight johnny's been missing for the last few months. it makes his heart feel light, finally seeing you acting like your normal self again after so long.
✹ he approaches you both, watching you fondly as you talk and laugh with gaz, but his good mood is soured when you only briefly acknowledge his arrival when he sits down across from you, before resuming your conversation with gaz. his brow twitches downwards.
✹ gaz is one of your closest friends, and he’s glad you remembered him. he's happy that you got part of your memory back, even if it wasn't a part that included him.
✹ this was a good thing. you'd remember him soon, he was sure of it.
✹ a few more days pass until anything else notable happens. while you were in the gym together, you told him you felt a headache coming on, so he offered to walk you to the infirmary for some painkillers. the casual conversation you made on the way wouldn't have bothered him before, but he just couldn't shake the image of you and gaz being so comfortable, while he's still stuck on the outside.
✹ he doesn't say anything though. making you feel bad about it won't solve anything, and it's not like you're doing it on purpose, he knows you wouldn't do that to him. you were just excited to have a familiar face, that's all.
✹ while you're waiting for the medic on call, your head suddenly snaps to attention and you get that same pensive look on your face as that night by the river.
✹ "you got something?" johnny asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your upper back. he doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he can't help the way his heart flutters with optimism.
✹ you nod, a smile growing on your features. "i remember that time lt. dislocated my shoulder, and price basically forced him apologise to me," you laugh, thankfully facing away from johnny as his lips turn downwards, "god, he was pissed, it was honestly kinda funny."
✹ "what, uhm…" he lightly clears his throat, hoping you don't hear the dejection in his voice, "what about me?"
✹ you meet his eyes again with an apologetic shake of your head. "i'm sorry, soap…"
✹ "yer fine, it's–" he swallows thickly, waving you off with an exaggerated smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, "this is good, it's progress."
✹ since then, he's given you more space. it's clear to him that his efforts aren't helping you remember him, it actually feels like it's having the opposite effect. of course, he's glad you remember your friends, but you still don't remember him – your own boyfriend.
✹ it's wrong, and he knows it is, but he's jealous.
✹ he has to watch you carry on like usual, without him. you haven't set foot in the room you used to share together since before you were comatose. he's done his best to disguise how much it hurts, but it still annoys him how no one else seems to notice how wrong it all is. the others don't need you like he does, they don't lay awake at night going over every moment, treasuring the time you called him yours, yearning with every fibre of his being to go back.
✹ it's been a month and a half since you woke up, six weeks of being so close yet so unbearably far from you. he prays to any god that will listen to bring you back to him, allow him to hold you in his arms once more, but nothing ever changes.
✹ the thread he's been hanging on by ever since you went down on that mission gone wrong is one more bad day away from snapping.
✹ he's approached by gaz one morning, while waiting for the others to begin training, who takes it upon himself to ask johnny about how you're recovering. when gaz teases him about how he was the first person you remembered, and johnny thinks he might just strangle him.
✹ "careful, soap, i might steal 'em away," gaz laughs, patting his shoulder with a camaraderie soap scoffs at.
✹ "shut the fuck up." he snarls, his face bunched in a strikingly out of character scowl. his hands twitch at his sides, nails digging painfully into his palms.
✹ gaz blinks, his eyebrows shooting up, clearly taken aback by the hostility from his friend. "alright, i was only jokin', mate."
✹ "aye, well, i'm nae laughin'."
✹ the tension is stifling. he can tell gaz wants to say something more, but he holds his tongue – too worried about upsetting soap any further.
✹ they stand in silence with each other like that for a while, gaz watching him from the corner of his eye while he keeps his gaze firmly on the grass below him.
✹ thankfully, after not too long the uneasy atmosphere is interrupted by a shout from the direction of the building, "johnny!"
✹ his head snaps to attention to see you, grinning uncontrollably and sprinting towards him at full speed.
✹ "wha–" he's caught off guard by how you leap into his arms, hooking your arms around his neck as he stumbles backwards in surprise.
✹ before he has time to question your actions, you're smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss that has johnny's head spinning. he wastes no time in reciprocating, securing one arm around your waist and bringing the other to the back of your head, using it you press you impossibly closer to him as he groans into your mouth.
✹ you reluctantly pull away, just enough to take a shaky breath, but johnny's had stays put on the back of your head. "i'm sorry i forgot, i'm sorry…" you mumble against his lips, dragging your fingers through the unkempt hair of his mohawk.
✹ he drops his head into the juncture of you neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent of you that he's gone so long without. he laughs into you, slightly delirious and just so overjoyed to have you in his arms again that feels his eyes sting with tears.
✹ "i've missed you, bonnie," he chuckles wetly, pressing his lips back to yours in another desperate kiss, "i've missed you so much,"
✹ "i'll never forget you again."
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ghost
✹ he avoids you like the plague.
✹ or he tries to, at least. but truth be told, after spending so much time learning to be vulnerable around you and allowing you into his guarded heart, it's difficult to go back to being a stranger to you.
✹ that, and he doesn't actually want to.
✹ but he needs to. being around you, the love of his life, knowing that you don't remember him, it's like a knife stuck between his ribs. any time he's in the same room as you he finds himself fighting the urge to grab your hand, or press his forehead against you.
✹ he knows you don't want him anymore, the last thing you deserve is a giant of a man – who you're clearly afraid of, even if you won't say it – hanging around you like a shadow.
✹ you're still kind to him, because of course you are, checking in on him and trying to talk to him any opportunity you get. it's nice, sometimes he can even pretend everything is normal when he shares a laugh with you, but then he sees the hesitance in your eyes and he's brought back to the cold reality of the situation.
✹ the weeks drag like this, every fleeting look from you another bleeding wound on his heart.
✹ he keeps it together surprisingly well, all things considered, but the breaking point comes when you find him having a smoke one night, on a bench just outside the barracks.
✹ "simon?" your voice cuts through the silence, his eyes snapping to you as you sit down next to him. he takes another long drag from his cigarette as he watches you, uncertainty in your voice as you continue, "can you tell me about… me? and us?"
✹ no matter how much he thinks he should, he can't look away from your pleading gaze.
✹ "we… you're everything to me," simon mutters, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with the heel of his boot, "i've never felt the way i do with you before, you've helped me more than you could ever know…"
✹ his vision blurs with unshed tears. the sadness on your face starts and ache in his heart, the desire to take you into his arms and just hold you making his skin bristle.
✹ "you don't have to feel the same way, but…" he pulls the balaclava from his head, setting it on the bench in the space between you, bearing his face to you like he always does, "even if you never get your memory back, i'll always love you."
✹ the way you look at him makes it so incredibly difficult not to cry. your eyes are glassy and far away, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth with an expression that screams guilt – but it's not your fault, and he'd never blame you.
✹ you open your mouth to say something, but the words never materialise. the night stays silent, and simon expects it, but it still makes his bones ache with a heaviness that he knows he can't shake.
✹ he stands, picking up his balaclava, and walks quietly past you to the barracks door. there's no fleeting look, not this time. he disappears to his room without another word.
✹ he's not sure how much later it is when he hears a knock on his door. minutes, hours, it didn't matter. it all blends together now.
✹ when he doesn't bother to answer, whoever it is lets themselves in, shutting the door gently behind themselves. he sits up with the intention of chewing them out, but when he opens his eyes they land on your form, curled in on yourself and shuffling quickly over to him.
✹ you're here, in his room, with a face that looks like you've been crying for hours, puffy and tear-stained with bloodshot eyes.
✹ he almost thinks he's dreaming, but the warmth as you wrap your arms around him and bring his face to your chest is too real, too familiar. he brings his arms up  around your waist, releasing a shaky sigh into your skin as he squeezes you tighter against him.
✹ a few hot tears meet the top of his head as you whisper to him the words he's been waiting, longing to hear, rocking gently from side to side.
✹ "i remember, si."
✹ it feels like he can finally rest, like the state of being he's been living in for the last few months melts away with your touch and he feels safe again.
✹ with his grip around your waist, he hoists you onto his bed to lay back down with him, holding you tightly against his chest, your heart right beside his own racing one.
✹ you cradle his face again, pressing your lips to his face over and over, touching every inch of him with your love.
✹ "i'm sorry…" you whisper like a mantra, punctuating every kiss with an apology that makes his throat constrict with the raw emotion he feels. "i'm sorry,"
✹ "don't be…" he mirrors how you hold his face, tangling his legs with yours as he captures your mouth and pours every ounce of passion he has into the way he kisses you. "don't be, love."
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sweetlemontart · 4 months
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nocturnal | choi seungcheol [M]
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summary ⇾ tipsy from after-work drinks, seungcheol returns home on friday night to find you asleep. he tries not to look, but his wandering eyes keep drifting over to your slumbering figure, and he knows rest won’t come easy when you seem to be tempting him even in your sleep. seungcheol could resolve his little predicament all by himself, but shouldn’t you be the one to take responsibility for making him feel this way?  
PAIRING // choi seungcheol x fem!reader
GENRE // some fluff, mostly smut, pwp (i mean it, I'm warning u), sub!reader, dom!seungcheol, fiancé!seungcheol
WARNING // 18+, explicit sexual content, established relationship, unprotected sex, somnophilia, consensual voyeurism, male masturbation, slight size kink, oral (m&f receiving), creampie, fingering (f receiving), edging, choking, thigh riding, talks about having kids, cheol is a teasing little sh*t
WORD COUNT // 13k
AUTHOR’S NOTE // 13k of just smut lol btw have yall seen GDA cheol? the all black fit and rolled up sleeves and the dark hair... moving on, happy new year to everyone who reads this, may 2024 bring us endless happiness and love ( ˊᵕˋ )♡.°⑅ do reblog if u enjoy this fic. I'm working on a wonwoo fic that has ten times more plot than this so pls stay tuned for that :) song rec is rock your body - clara la san
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You're already in bed when your fiancé returns home from work, drifting in and out of sleep, wanting to wait for him to come home but unable to fight your weariness. Friday is always the busiest day at work, and the idea of being able to stay in bed until noon the next day only makes you want to wait up for him even more.
Seungcheol must think you're already asleep. It's reasonable that he thinks that way—you're a light sleeper and often go to bed early. He tries his best to stay quiet as he moves around. You had barely heard him enter the apartment, and only faint thuds of his sock-clad feet can be heard as he meanders around the house. 
When Seungcheol enters the bedroom, he's a little sceptical as to why the bedside lamp is still on, casting a dim, yellow glow across the room. His eyes search for you, finding you cocooned under the covers, lying on your left side with your back turned to him. He knows you can't sleep with any light on, but he deduces you must've been waiting for him and inevitably succumbed to sleep. 
Seungcheol moves toward the full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom. He's slightly tipsy from downing a few beers with his co-workers after work. He feels light on his feet, and his once-gelled hair is no longer slicked back, some unruly strands now falling over his forehead. He hears you shift on the bed as he loosens his tie, but he doesn't think much of it, proceeding to unbutton his dress shirt.
Two buttons in, he hears movement from the bed again, and this time, he looks in your direction in the mirror, taken aback when his eyes meet your bleary ones. He turns his head to look at you, his mouth curling into a lazy smile. "I thought you were asleep," he says in a low voice. 
You say nothing, propping your elbow up on your pillow and leaning your head against it to get a better look at your fiancé. He turns back to the mirror, and you notice the rosy tint colouring his cheeks. You sigh dreamily, admiring him from the bed. Seungcheol is tall—that much is obvious—but those dress pants do his legs wonder. 
When he reaches for his belt, you can't help but stare. His dress shirt is still tucked into the pants, the first few buttons open, baring the soft skin of his chest. Your eyes wander, and you think Seungcheol does notice. The man does not miss a thing when it comes to you. 
The sound of his belt unbuckling makes your legs curl closer to your body, and Seungcheol definitely notices this time because he stops his movement, fingers hovering over the button of his pants. When he turns on his heels, your eyes finally snap back up to look at his face. He doesn't say anything as he approaches, coming to a stop beside the bed, towering over you.
He reaches one hand out to caress your cheek with the back of his fingers. It's a feathery touch, and your eyes naturally flutter close, head tilting into his touch just the slightest. Gentle fingers thread into your hair, brushing it back and tucking loose strands behind your ear.
Your eyes snap open when you feel his thumb against your bottom lip. At first, it's harmless, and he's only dragging the pad of his thumb across your lip, but then he starts to dip further into your mouth. He lets out a soft sigh when your lips part, allowing his thumb to rest against your tongue. Then, your mouth wraps around his finger, suckling at it softly, and his breath catches in his throat when he feels just how warm and wet your mouth is.
It's over before you want it to be. Seungcheol smiles a little too innocently, removing his thumb from your mouth and patting your cheek. "Get some rest, baby. I'm going to take a quick shower."
You don't stop him as he walks into the en suite bathroom, surprised that he hadn't immediately taken his clothes off and taken you right then and there. Seungcheol's self-control has always been immaculate when it comes to sex, but refusing to do it on a Friday night when neither he nor you have work tomorrow morning? You chalk it up to his exhaustion after working overtime, so you lie back in bed, eyes refusing to close even though your body is screaming at you to rest.
Seungcheol emerges from the bathroom not even a minute later, shirtless, belt discarded, pants unbuttoned. He takes off his silver Rolex, carefully setting it down on the bedside table near his side of the bed—as always. To your disappointment, he doesn't spare you even a glance before walking back into the bathroom.
You find yourself sighing, anticipating what seems to be an uneventful Friday night. You and Seungcheol usually spend Friday nights together— going out for dinner or unwinding with a movie on the couch. But if your lover is too tired to do anything other than sleep, you understand. You also have days when you feel too drained to do anything other than lie in bed and mull over your thoughts. Besides, it isn't like you don't have the entire weekend to make up for it—hell, you have your whole life to make up for it. 
Seungcheol leaves the bathroom door open behind him. It's not strange for either of you to keep the bathroom door open while showering. Privacy isn't much of an issue for both of you. 
You fall back asleep relatively quickly, not thinking much about the fact that the shower hasn't started running even though Seungcheol has been in the bathroom for at least five minutes.
You awaken again soon enough to the sound of soft sighs and some rustling from the direction of the couch placed near the bedroom door. At first, you try to ignore it, thinking Seungcheol might just be getting himself ready for bed. Then another sigh follows, and you peek an eye open to take a quick look. What you think will be a quick look turns into so much more. 
Your beloved fiancé sits with his legs spread on the white couch, still shirtless and wearing his dress pants. This time, however, his boxer has been pushed down just slightly, and he's lazily stroking his cock in his hand, his other arm splayed across the backrest of the couch. His skin is pale and milky, glowing in the golden light. He smiles when you prop yourself on your elbow, blinking blearily as if trying to comprehend what you are currently seeing.
He's rock hard, shaft glistening with pre-cum. You and Seungcheol have always loved trying new things in bed, pushing yourself to the limit, testing just how far each of you will go before you tap out. But this... the thought that Seungcheol was touching himself to the sight of you asleep—it stirs something in you. You've always loved waking up with Seungcheol's cock inside you. The drag of his cock feels especially good when you're still drowsy, trying to pull yourself together but failing each time because your lover just feels so good inside you. But this is different.
Seungcheol's hand speeds up, and the way he groans makes you lose your train of thought. The silver ring sits snugly on his little finger—the coolness of it must feel so good on his cock. You don't break eye contact, shifting onto your stomach and folding your arms underneath your head as you watch him. You wouldn't be able to look away even if you wanted to.
Seungcheol grits his jaw when he sees you smile. It's the last thing he expects. You look so sweet, and he starts to wonder about the sight he would be met with if he were to pull the covers away from your body. Are you wearing the sheer nightgown he always loves seeing on you? Or maybe you're wearing nothing, and he'd be able to spread your legs apart and slip himself right into the warmth of your needy cunt.
Seungcheol straightens his posture just a little, cock twitching in his hold at the sight of your smile. You look so at ease, enjoying this more than he had anticipated. He was half expecting to get an earful from you, thinking you would probably scold him for his bizarre behaviour, but this, he wasn't expecting at all, and that makes his cock harden, balls tightening almost painfully. Seungcheol feels as though he's about to burst from the inside. Your smile—as if you're taunting him, teasing him.
"Fuck, fuck..." he breathes out, head tilting back, eyes closing, savouring the feeling of his rough, calloused hand moving up and down his cock. The fact that you're most likely still watching him makes his abs tense up, trying to hold back from finishing too fast. It has barely been ten minutes since he started, but the sight of your smile feels like it's burned into the back of his eyelids. It makes his brain go haywire.
He risks another look at you and immediately realises he has made a grave mistake. Instantly, he's cumming hard, unable to hold himself back because you're looking at him so prettily—slow blinks and a sleepy smile. A loud groan rips from Seungcheol's chest, fist wrapped around the tip of his cock, stroking it just barely, trying to milk everything out. His cum trickles down his knuckles, down his shaft.
The intensity of your gaze, fixed squarely on his leaking cock, spurs Seungcheol to stand up. He rids himself off his dress pants and boxers, using the latter to wipe off most of his release before walking closer to you. Seungcheol stops on the side of the bed, stroking his softening cock almost languidly. He doesn't have to say anything, and you're already sitting up against the headboard, reaching a hand to grab at his wrist to pull him even closer. Seungcheol perches one knee on the bed, watching as you lick your lips at the sight of his cum. You're still fucking smiling, and he feels himself growing hard again.
"Enjoyed that, did we?" he says quietly, trying not to break the peace and quiet too much in case you feel like going back to sleep after his little 'show'. 
"Very much," you reply, voice slightly scratchy from sleep. 
Seungcheol is so thick everywhere, and it makes you dizzy. Your eyes roam over his chest, bulky arms, and firm thighs. Your lover has always been strong and filled in all the right places, and you love it. He has no problem picking you up, tossing you around, manhandling you into different positions. He doesn't struggle with keeping you steady when he's fucking you against the wall or any other surface.
You brush aside his hand from his cock, tongue lolling out to lick at the excess cum on his knuckles, cleaning it off his skin. The salty, bitter taste floods your tongue, and you immediately take him into your mouth. Seungcheol hisses when you do, loving the way your mouth envelopes him. You don't waste any time trying to take all of him in, mouth stretching almost painfully around the heavy girth that's starting to harden again, your thighs pressing together to get some friction. You must look pitiful to Seungcheol, trying to fit all of him in your mouth in your sleepy state, hips shifting slightly on the bed, trying to get some relief.
Breathing in, you look up—right into his eyes—before moving forward until the tip of your nose presses into his lower stomach. He breathes out a chuckle when you gag, throat constricting around his cock. Your eyes fill with tears, but you don't pull away until you're sputtering and the droplets of tears trickle down your cheeks. Seungcheol's quick to cup your jaw, thumb brushing against the pearling teardrops on your cheek. "Easy, baby... I know you're tired. Don't force it..."
Hearing Seungcheol's instructions, you stick to shallow motions, using your hand to stroke the rest of his length you can't fit in your mouth. Seungcheol's hip jerks forward a little when you drag your tongue along the underside of his cock, tracing the veins and circling the tip. Seungcheol mumbles an apology as he weaves a hand through your hair and starts to thrust his hips forward little by little, lost in the feeling of your mouth.
His cock glistens with your spit in the low light, and your eyes fall shut naturally, basking in the quiet noises Seungcheol is making. He doesn't force you to take all of him, pulling his hips back before the tip of his cock can reach your throat. You appreciate his sentiment, even if you feel awake enough to take whatever he gives you. 
Your eyes snap open when you feel the cold air against your bare legs. Seungcheol has yanked the blanket away from your body and is now peering down at your exposed form, clad in his grey shirt and a pair of white panties. Your panties are nothing special, but Seungcheol feels his cock twitch in your mouth when he sees the wet patch on the crotch of your underwear.
He can feel the vibration of your moan against his cock when his finger grazes over the damp spot on your panties. He can't resist using the tips of his fingers to rub over your clothed pussy, teasing up and down the slit, watching the way the drenched fabric sticks to your dripping cunt—thoroughly soaked and ruined before he has even done anything to you. 
When you pull away from his cock momentarily to take a much-needed breath, Seungcheol immediately leans down to capture your lips with his in a bruising kiss. He swallows all your moans, rolling his tongue over yours, dragging it against your lower lip. He doesn't pull away, even as he tugs the crotch of your panties to the side and starts to circle your clit with his fingers, which makes your legs snap shut, trapping his hand in between.
Seungcheol pulls away from the kiss, glancing down at his trapped hand before looking back at you almost expectedly. "Open," he commands. You don't need to be told twice, immediately parting your legs.
"Good girl..."
Seungcheol prods at your hole with two fingers, slipping both in only halfway. They slide in easily, slick from the wetness seeping out of your pulsing hole and the remnants of precum messily smeared all over his cock as he was jerking himself off.
"You got this wet from watching me? Or were you touching yourself before I got home?" Seungcheol grunts, gazing down at the way your pussy is fluttering around his fingers. The squelching sound is obscene, resounding throughout the bedroom. "Messy little thing..." he mumbles quietly, lost in thought as he lets his fingers dip into you right down to the knuckle. 
You gasp, pulling your mouth away from his cock to look up at his face. Seungcheol doesn't meet your eyes, seemingly entranced by the sight of his fingers between your legs. Bending one of your knees, you spread your legs wider. After dating Seungcheol for two years and being engaged for one and a half, you don't feel the need to hide from him nor the embarrassment of presenting yourself to him like you're his to own and use as he pleases. In all honesty, he possesses every part of you—your heart, your soul, every inch of your body. He is yours as much as you are his. 
When Seungcheol adds a third finger, he finally looks back at your face, not wanting to miss how your eyebrows furrow and mouth gape open at the tight fit. His fingers are thick—much more so than yours—but his cock is even more so, and he definitely needs to stretch you out to get you ready, or he will risk hurting you. There are occassions when a little bit of pain is most welcome, but tonight, his main objective is to give you pleasure.
With a trembling hand, you reach up to grasp at his cock, stroking him slowly, matching the pace of his fingers as they dip in and out of you. You know you won't be able to use your mouth properly, not when he's touching you so earnestly and looking down at you as though he hasn't ever seen you in such a position in your years of being together. 
"You touch yourself before I came home, sweetheart?"
You're quick to shake your head, slumping further down the headboard as he continues to play with your pussy. "No..." you whimper, jolting when he suddenly curls his fingers, tips of his fingers firmly pressing up against the spongy spot inside you that sends a current of pleasure darting up your spine. "I got so wet from watching you, Cheol," you sigh out, hips canting up to match the movement of his hand. "I love watching you..."
Seungcheol hums, grinning down at you, pleased with your response. "Aw, my baby always loves watching me, isn't that right?" 
His free hand envelopes the hand around his cock, urging you to keep stroking him. The ring on his middle finger glints in the light—it's the ring you gave him a week after his proposal. It serves as a reminder that no one else but him has the privilege to have you like this. No one else will ever get to touch you, kiss you, make love to you, and fuck you the way he intends to tonight. You're his, forever, and the idea has him grunting out your name breathlessly. 
With his hand atop yours, he guides your hand up and down his length at a pace that makes him hiss. Your hand is much smaller than his, fingertips barely meeting around his thick girth. His skin prickles whenever you tighten your hand around him just slightly every time your hand reaches just under the head of his cock, squeezing him just the way you know he likes it. 
"Fuck..." he exhales, sweat beading down his temple. "So good, sweetheart..."
"Cheol..."
"Hm? Tell me what's wrong."
You glance down at the hand between your legs, feeling short of breath from watching the way your slick seems to coat Seungcheol's fingers, some staining your thigh, some smeared on the palm of his hand. You suck in a big breath, stomach caving in. When you return your gaze to him, you're surprised to find he's already looking at you, the tip of his pink tongue peeking out to rest against his bottom lip. The way he's looking at you makes you feel sweltering hot. 
"My shirt, p-please," you stutter out, feeling suffocated in only one layer of clothing. 
Seungcheol immediately understands what you're asking, but he makes no move to take your shirt off. You whine when he suddenly retracts his fingers from your pussy, leaving you feeling so empty. He peels your hand off his cock, leaving you baffled and so goddamn frustrated. 
"Cheol, why'd—"
He hushes you, lowering himself onto the end of the bed. He grabs both your thighs, pulling you down from the headboard. His cock nudges against the back of your thigh, so close to where you want him the most. 
"Oh, God," you breathlessly pant. "Need you inside me," you tell him, feeling frenzied. You move to pull off your shirt, but he grunts, shaking his head. 
"Don't," he orders, using his grip on your thighs to spread your legs wide enough for him to be able to get a good view of your sloppy cunt, all slick and puffy from the onslaught of his fingers. "I like seeing you in my shirt," he says in a faraway voice, distracted by the sight of your pussy, hole clenching around nothing, almost inviting him to dive right in. 
You groan, propping yourself up onto your elbows, chest heaving. You lick at your dry lips, sending Seungcheol a pleading look, but he doesn't meet your eyes, too absorbed with the mess in between your legs. "Cheol, baby—"
Without warning, Seungcheol leans down, shoving his face into your pussy, mouth hungrily devouring your heat. You fall back onto the bed with a startled shout, jaw hanging open as you try to comprehend the sudden onslaught of pleasure that threatens to consume you whole. Seungcheol is good with his mouth and familiar enough with your body to know how to bring you close to the edge in only minutes. 
He's sucking at your clit noisily, manic with his movements like a starved man getting his first taste of food after days without it. He's greedy and ravenous, offering you no respite—not even a moment to catch your breath. 
You try to tell Seungcheol to slow down, to give you even a second to compose yourself, but only garbled moans of his name come out. By now, sleep is the last thing on your mind—only pleasure clouds it. You're trembling under him, helpless against the relentless assault of his mouth. 
When Seungcheol groans, the vibration on your most sensitive part makes you choke on air, lowering a hand down to grab the strands of his dark hair. When you try to move away from him, he clutches onto your thighs tighter, tongue teasing at your hole, swirling but never diving in. You're still trying to get away, overwhelmed. He notices this, and he brings both his arms around your thighs, hugging your legs close around his head. There's no room to move—he has you locked in. 
"Fuck, please, please, s-slow down! C-Cheol!"
He doesn't, lapping up all your juices, groaning at how your taste coats his tongue and how your smell overtakes his senses. He trusts you to say the safe word if it becomes too much. He also knows that you can take this—he has done far worse things to you before. 
The tip of his nose presses against your clit when he delves his tongue into your pussy, earning a rather rough pull of his hair from you. The pain shoots down his spine, making him slump down onto the bed to grind his bare cock on the bed. All of it makes him so light-headed. Your legs are tightening around his head, trapping him, but he doesn't mind, not even if your moans sound muffled this way. He'll get to hear you later when he fucks you silly into the mattress anyway. 
Tears brim in your eyes. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, dry from moaning so much. It's almost too much—how he is so ruthless with his mouth and tongue. He doesn't let up once, breathing in and out through his nose, delighted to be suffocated between your plush thighs. It's pure fucking torture, but it feels divine.
"Cheol... C-Close," you whisper, hoping he can hear you. 
He doesn't hear you, but he knows you enough by now. He knows the telltale sign of your orgasm approaching, knows how tight you get when you're about to cum, knows how your back arches and your toes curl. He looks at your face and reads your lips, repetitions of his name spilling past it. 
Then he's pulling your legs away from the sides of his head, ripping his mouth from your pussy. Your orgasm is brutally stolen from you, and the sheer frustration that surges through you makes you howl out his name. To make it worse, he only chuckles at you, hands rubbing comfortingly at the side of your thighs. The touch should be soothing, but it only leaves you angered. 
The sheer audacity of this man—
"You asshole," you spit out with all the venom you can muster, chest rising and falling rapidly. Tears of frustration trickle down your cheeks, and Seungcheol thinks the sight would be so lovely if he hadn't just been devouring you like you were his first meal in months. 
"Aw, don't be like that, baby..." he coos sweetly, lips and chin glossy with your juices. He wipes his face with the back of his hand before swiftly grabbing at your soiled panties, pulling them off you and tossing them somewhere in the room. He adjusts your legs, straightening both and letting them dangle over one of his shoulders. Holding his cock in his hand, he strokes it twice and then runs the tip up and down your slit.
"Choi Seungcheol, you're—you..." you trail off, finding yourself drawing a blank, still shocked by how he so meanly robbed you of your orgasm when it had been right at your fingertips. That, combined with how his cock is lightly dipping into your hole, leaves you feeling an untamed emotion, a sensation of chaos where you feel completely out of control, an experience both terrifying and exhilarating.
"Did you just call me Choi Seungcheol? We've been together for years, baby—let's not use full names now," he warns you before he sinks into you in one fell swoop, stuffing you full of every inch of him. There's a brief flash of pain as you try to adjust to the sudden stretch, hands tugging at the bedsheets and eyes rolling back. You hear him chuckle, prompting you to look up at him. You regret it almost immediately because the sight of him makes your hips lift off the bed, a strangled moan leaving you.
Your orgasm crashes into you like a freight train, sudden and jarring. You don't even register it yourself at first, at least not until the overwhelming ecstasy makes you go stiff in Seungcheol's hold, sobbing at the surge of pleasure that has striked you so abruptly. You had not had time to prepare yourself, so you try grounding yourself by grabbing his biceps and clawing at the smooth skin, leaving tender, red marks. 
"G-God, oh God, Cheollie," you whine, pinching your eyes shut because everything feels too fucking good, and you're struggling to bring yourself down from this euphoria and anchor yourself in the present. 
Seungcheol doesn't realise what's happening right away. He feels the way you clench hard around him, walls squeezing him so tight that he can't help but let out a small groan. He's caught off guard when he feels your nails digging into his arms. You're writhing underneath him—quivering, shaking—and finally, it dawns on him what has just unfolded. You just fucking came, all because he had eased his cock into your warm cunt. 
"Oh, baby..." he mutters, snickering quietly to himself. He coaxes you through your orgasm, pressing soft kisses on the side of your thigh. "Shh, good girl, that's it, ride it out for me, darling..." he murmurs against your skin, fighting back the urge to start moving his hips and fucking you through your orgasm. You've never been this sensitive before, and he knows he needs to approach this situation carefully. He doesn't want to overstimulate you too much and too soon, both for your sake and his. 
Seungcheol is equally perplexed and impressed at how little it had taken you to cum. All he had to do was slip himself into you, and you were coming undone under him? He feels his cock twitch at the thought. Seungcheol's only a man, and what you did has inflated his ego tenfold. He thinks nothing could ever top this moment, and he doesn't intend to let you live it down. 
You're not sure just how long it takes you to collect yourself. A gentle palm smoothes down your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. The soft voice is murmuring your name, pulling you back down, down, down from your drunken daze. 
"I'm sorry," you say, still a little disoriented, gaze unfocused. You see Seungcheol's outline and see his lips moving, but you don't hear anything except the pounding of your heart in your ears. You blink a few times, forcing yourself to adjust and snap out of whatever trance you were momentarily stuck in. "I'm sorry," you repeat after finally regaining your awareness. Your eyes zero in on Seungcheol—you can see him clearly now. 
"Darling, believe me, an apology is the last thing I need," he says, slightly relieved that you seem to be returning to your senses now. He carefully sets your legs to the side, leaning down and hovering over you with a leering smile. He has you caged in his arms, looming over you with his broad frame, making you feel small. "All I need—" he begins, nosing at your jaw, breathing in your smell, "—is for you to beg."
You let out a shuddering breath, feeling the tip of his cock nudge at the back of your thigh. Somewhere in the middle of your orgasm, Seungcheol had pulled himself out of your pussy, knowing he would most likely reach his own climax if you kept clamping down on him the way you did. 
"Beg?" you echoed back, tilting your head up, giving him more access to litter kisses on your neck. 
"Mhm..." He lets his teeth graze over the sensitive skin under your jaw, not biting, just gliding over your pulse point. "Beg me to make you cum again." He ends his sentence with a playful nip on your jaw, loving how you jolt under him in surprise. 
His request isn't unusual or odd in any way. Seungcheol has said worse things to you before—things so filthy and obscene it would make a sailor blush. His words carry an unfamiliar weight this time, provoking a shyness in you that you never anticipated would be caused by his words alone. 
Warmth begins to creep up your neck, and a lump forms in your throat as something akin to humiliation washes over you. The weight of the situation starts to dawn on you. Seungcheol hadn't even had the chance to move before you were creaming all over him like a bitch in heat. The thought of it makes you want to curl into yourself and hide until morning. 
Seungcheol must feel you tensing up because he's immediately pulling away from the crook of your neck, searching your face with his eyes. You avert your eyes to the side, unable to meet his gaze with the wild embarrassment coursing through you. 
"What's wrong?" he asks you. "Look at me, baby..."
You sigh, knowing he wouldn't just let this go. Still, as you drag your gaze back to his, you can't help the shameful furrow of your eyebrows. 
Seungcheol immediately knows. "Are you... embarrassed?" he asks, the corners of his mouth curling up just slightly. 
You groan, pushing at his chest to get him to roll over to his side of the bed. He doesn't resist, moving over to give you enough space to sit up on the bed. "Ugh... 'm not embarrassed," you grumble, tucking your feet under your legs so you're sitting cross-legged on the bed. You feel Seungcheol's hand on your back, palm warm over the shirt you're still wearing as he rubs up and down to soothe you. The gesture only makes you feel even more ashamed, especially since you can hear the quiet laughter he's emitting beside you. 
Seungcheol finds it so endearing when you press your hands to your face, hiding yourself from him. His grin widens when you whine into your hands. "What are you so embarrassed for?" he asks, fully knowing the answer but still baffled about how you're so flustered from doing something that he wants to keep stored in his memory until the end of his days. The way your bewildered face had morphed into one of pure ecstasy as your orgasm washed over you is something he wants to be able to replay in his mind again and again. 
His cock jerks at the memory, and he swiftly hauls the comforter up to the middle of his torso to cover himself up. He calls out your name softly, but you don't answer him, still hiding yourself with your hands. He lets out a small sigh, knowing he'll have to get your attention some other way. 
He soon notices your engagement ring sitting on the bedside table. He knows you avoid wearing it to bed, too worried that it might slip off during the night due to your restless sleeping habits. Then, he comes up with the perfect distraction. 
Reaching over, he swiftly grabs the ring from the table before settling back into his previous position. The movement makes you retract your hands from your face, curiously glancing at him.
Seungcheol is smiling, dimples on full display. You resist the urge to poke at the little dents on his cheeks, still feeling bashful about the incident. Then, you notice the small object he's fiddling with in his hand. He's tinkering with your ring, turning it over with his fingers, fitting it around his index, grinning when it doesn't even reach halfway down his digit. 
Seungcheol's eyes seem to darken when he returns his gaze back to yours. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he grabs your left hand, fitting the ring on your finger. The way it fits so perfectly around your supple finger evokes something primal within him. How such a small thing can symbolise the commitment and love you both have for each other is such a wonder to him. He knows that no wealth or material possessions could ever encapsulate the depth of affection he holds for you, let alone this piece of jewellery.
"If this is your way of distracting me so I don't think about what happened earlier..."
Seungcheol rolls his eyes playfully. "You're welcome to forget about it all you want, but it's gonna keep playing in my mind like a broken record whether you like it or not."
You release a sigh but refrain from arguing because Seungcheol's words ring sincere, and you're aware he wouldn't acknowledge your embarrassment anyway. 
He brings your hand to his mouth, tenderly kissing the ring. The gesture is intimate, even if he feels something entirely more carnal stirring in his stomach. "You're so much smaller than me. Could barely even fit the ring on my finger," he comments, thumbing at the small diamond sitting prettily atop the ring. 
Through your blush, you manage a reserved smile. "That's because you're so thick everywhere."
You don't mean the sentence in a weird way, but judging from Seungcheol's booming laughter, he definitely misinterpreted your words. He squeezes your hand once before tugging you down to settle half of your body on top of his. He lets you join him under the covers before cupping your cheek, urging you to look at him. 
"I'm thick everywhere, hm?" he teases you, watching how red immediately stains your cheeks. 
"Don't be gross," you grumble, letting him trail kisses from your wrist, then up to your palm, and settling on your ring. "What's with you and the ring anyway?" you ask him, finding it sweet but slightly odd that he seems so fixated on it. 
"I just had a thought, that's all," he responds, kissing each of your fingertips. 
"Go on." 
"That one day—" he says, eyes burning into yours heatedly, "—there'll be a wedding band beside this one, and you'll finally be mine forever." He says it airily, as if it's the most natural proclamation, with unwavering certainty in his emotions. 
Your heart sings at the declaration. "You're wrong on the last part." You press a fleeting kiss on his mouth, smiling when his eyebrow raises questioningly. "I don't need to be married to you to be yours."
Seungcheol grins, one of his hands skimming down your back, grabbing a handful of your ass over the oversized shirt you're wearing. "You don't know half the things you do to me, do you?" 
"I do, actually, and I plan to abuse that power," you jest, beginning to sit up, throwing one leg over your lover's hips to straddle him. 
Seungcheol is awestruck at the sight of you on top of him. You, all beautiful and celestial, and all his. He wants to worship you, ruin you, and defile you all at the same time. He's not in the right mind to say anything yet, so he only watches, both hands gliding up and down your thighs, getting higher each time, hiking the fabric of your shirt higher up as well. 
He breathes out a sigh when he allows himself to look down. Your pretty pussy is on display, all for him, with remnants of your juices on it and some smeared on your inner thighs. He's about to touch when you grab his wrist, slowly guiding his hand towards where you need him the most. He knows what you're asking of him, and he'd be stupid to deny you your wish. 
You gasp when Seungcheol starts running two of his fingers up and down your slit, coating his fingers in the wetness of your cunt, unafraid to get messy. When he sinks both fingers into your hole, you can't help but mewl, one hand grabbing onto his bicep and the other still wrapped around his wrist. 
"So wet for me, darling... You're fucking dripping all over my fingers," he says once he finally regains his voice back. 
Seungcheol is much stronger than you, and he could easily rip away the hand on your wrist and finger fuck you to oblivion the way he usually does it. This time, however, he lets you guide him, allows you to move your hips to match the rhythm of his movements, and allows you tug his hand closer to reach deeper into you each time he buries the digits. He's still holding the reigns, and he knows that—even if you're the one sitting on top of him—but seeing you try to handle and manage your pleasure all by yourself is so fucking—"Cute."
"Oh... fuck," you breathe out, swallowing hard when Seungcheol folds his free arm and tucks it under his head. He's pretty—bicep bulging and veins crawling up his arms. 
He grins when your pussy tightens around his fingers. "Think you could cum like this?"
"Mhmm..." You sit up straighter, balancing yourself with both hands firmly planted on Seungcheol's shoulders. Slowly, you switch to bouncing on his fingers instead of rolling your hips, wincing slightly at the burn of your thighs. Still, you push through the pain, aching for release, pressure in your stomach tightening at the way his fingers seem to reach deeper inside you at the new angle.
"Pretty, pretty girl," Seungcheol mumbles, more to himself than to you, but you still hear it anyway. It makes you light-headed. You love Seungcheol degrading you during sex, but hearing his compliment brings out a visceral reaction in you. It makes you giddy and scatterbrained—as though every coherent thought in your head simply just... wilts away. 
You bite your lip at his praise, eyelids drooping slightly, a dreamy look settling over your gaze. Seungcheol thinks this is his favourite look on you. You're not saying anything, but your eyes tell a story of themselves. He can see it—the way you're practically begging for him and his cock. 
"Please," you whisper, continuing to fuck yourself on Seungcheol's fingers, moaning wantonly at the mix of pain and pleasure. You're squeezing his shoulders with your hands, nails occasionally digging into his skin whenever the pleasure becomes a little too much. You're so close, and you think Seungcheol knows it as well. 
"That's right, baby. Is my pretty girl close?" he asks, shifting slightly underneath you, cock throbbing at the lack of attention, hard as rock at the adorable sight of you bouncing on top of him. He loves the way you look in his shirt, but he thinks he'd much rather see your perky tits jiggling in his face as you ride him instead. 
"Mhm, c-close," you profess, hands restless, wandering down to his smooth chest before settling around the base of his neck. You don't squeeze, only letting your hands linger as you chase your high. 
Seungcheol chuckles when he notices the delicate grasp of your hands around his neck. He knows you won't put pressure—you're too meek for that. And no, he's not underestimating you. In fact, you might be the only person in the world capable of reducing him to his knees with a glance. But between the two of you, it has always been him who would dare to do such a courageous feat. 
Seungcheol does exactly that. He slips his hand from under his head and clasps it around your neck, watching your eyes widen when he applies the slightest pressure onto the sides of your throat. You always cum so much quicker when he has at least one hand around your neck.��
Your whole body stiffens at the contact, pussy fluttering wildly around his two digits. "O-Oh, f-fuck, fuck!" You let your head tip to the side, eyes fluttering close as you near your high. Your legs are starting to go numb, but that's the least of your concerns when your climax feels like it's looming right around the corner. 
"Attagirl... that's it," Seungcheol drawls, applying more pressure when he feels your pussy squeezing tight around him. At this point, you must be growing dizzy from the lack of air and blood. He's careful not to apply any more force than he currently is. "What a pretty necklace," he taunts, awed by how perfectly his hand wraps around your neck. You're so much smaller compared to him. "Pretty necklace for my pretty girl..."
"Ungh, 'm cumming," you manage to slur out, movements growing more frantic, rhythm getting more sporadic the closer you get.  
"Look at me, sweetheart." 
It takes you a few seconds to register what he is asking. Your eyes drag over to his face. It's torture knowing you could be riding his cock instead of his fingers, but you know he'll want you to finish what you started. His fingers are doing a heavenly job, but the stretch isn't quite enough. You don't say that to him, though, knowing he'd probably give you hell for voicing it. He'd say you're insatiable and edge you until there are no tears left for you to cry. 
"There you are..." he says once your eyes meet his. There's a hunger in his stare—an unspoken promise of the things he will do to you once you've finished fucking yourself on his fingers. Your whole body tenses, cheeks burning when he nods as though urging you to let go. "Can you look at me when you cum? Can you do that for me?"
When Seungcheol adds the smallest amount of pressure on the grip around your neck, you can't help the unadulterated moan that spills past your lips. You're so fucking dizzy, vision blurring on the edges. It's getting increasingly difficult to keep your eyes locked onto his when the world feels like it's about to crash down on you. 
You still have your hands on his neck, and for a moment, you're distracted by how your engagement ring sits on your ring finger. The fat, silver diamond is a stunning contrast to his golden complexion. 
"Come on, don't get distracted now. Cum for me so I can finally get you on my cock, hm?"
You come apart with a broken shout of his name, soaking his fingers with your cum, milky slick trickling down his knuckles and dripping on his stomach. At the height of your pleasure, Seungcheol decides to release his hold on your neck, letting the air and blood rush up to your brain. The sudden surge feels exhilarating, rendering you frozen in bliss as the feeling rips through you. 
"Fuck, sweetheart," he remarks, his free hand coming up to brush back the hair from your face, letting your head loll into his hand sluggishly as it braces the back of your head. You look exhausted, back slouched and chest heaving. Still, he notices the way you're slowly grinding on his fingers. He knows you need more. "That looked like it felt good."
You nod, letting him slip his fingers out of you, sucking in a sharp breath at the sudden emptiness. "So good. Thank you..." Everything feels like it's aching—your legs, your back, and your pussy most of all. You're far from done, but you allow yourself to rest, lowering yourself to lie on top of him, face buried into his neck. You breathe his scent and allow it to root you in the moment. 
Seungcheol wipes his stained fingers on your shirt, tsking you when you whine in protest. "It's literally your cum—why are you so grossed out about it?" he teases. 
"Because..." you say slowly. When you realise you have nothing to say, you pick your head up, blinking at him. 
Seungcheol hums, eyes amused when he looks down at you. "Mhm?"
You don't have an answer, so you kiss him instead. Seungcheol welcomes the kiss, letting his tongue meet with yours in a feverish kiss that makes your hands cling fervently to his hair. You're shifting on top of him restlessly, letting your pussy settle over the length of his cock, sighing heatedly into his mouth and letting his tongue swirl around yours sloppily. 
Seungcheol grunts at the way you let your pussy slip up and down his throbbing cock. Your cunt is hot and so fucking wet, and he feels like he might combust from how good you feel against him. 
Two orgasms should've been enough for you, but you know you won't feel fully sated without Seungcheol's cock dipping in and out of your pussy, leaving it all messy in a mix of your cum. You're not sure whether you can cum again, but you do know you want Seungcheol's cum inside of you, and soon. 
"Inside," you whisper against Seungcheol's lips, not letting him respond before you smash your lips to his again. Reaching down to grab at his cock, you're just about to line the tip with your hole when he shoves you away with a harsh grip on your arm. 
You yelp in surprise, the world turning into a blur, hardly comprehending that you're no longer sitting on top of him. You're now lying on your back, staring wide-eyed up at Seungcheol as he hauls your shirt off, leaving you just as naked as him. 
Seungcheol can't help how his eyes gravitate towards your tits, all on full display for his eyes to feast on. "Fucking perfect," he mutters, one hand jerking up and down his cock as his eyes roam up and down your body, taking everything in. The sight isn't foreign to him, but all the blood still rushes to his dick the same way every time. You're too fucking perfect. If ever comes a day that he ever sees a single flaw in your body, he'll fault his eyes instead. 
When you sigh, it comes out half a moan. "Hurry, Cheollie," you tell him, spreading your legs wider, holding yourself open with two hands on the back of your knees, baring yourself to him unashamedly. You're too desperate for his cock to worry about self-dignity now. 
Seungcheol groans, stomach flipping at the sweetness dripping from your lips when you say his name so endearingly. "Alright, alright..." He presses one hand on the back of your thigh while the other hand grips his cock, running the leaking head up and down your sloppy cunt. "Just don't cum on me too soon like last time, yeah?"
"Why are you bringing that up!"
"Actually... maybe I wouldn't mind. You always shut up so good after you cum." He chuckles at the deathly glare you give him, choosing that exact moment to sink into your awaiting heat, amused when your glare twists into an expression of utter bliss. Oh, he could die happy like this—cock snug in your warm, tight pussy. He allows you a few seconds to adjust, letting his hands travel all the places of your body that he can reach, leaving your skin prickling. 
"Move, Cheol...Please."
Seungcheol smirks at your pleading, watching the way you spread your legs even wider for him—inviting and beckoning him to take you like you're the sweetest and ripest forbidden fruit. "How do you want it, pretty?"
Your eyebrows knit in frustration. Surely , he's trying to tease you, purposely prolonging whatever this is when he could already be fucking you into the mattress by now. Still, you humour him, hoping he will give in. "Any way you want, I'll take it."
Seungcheol nods with a hum, nibbling at the insides of his cheeks as he glances down at the point where his cock disappears into your pussy. "Any way I want, hm?" he echoes back, swiping a thumb at your swollen clit, snickering when your hips jump, causing his cock to slip out, heavy girth springing up to smack against his stomach. 
You reach down with one hand, guiding his cock back to your pussy, desperate to be filled again. "Please, just please." The words come out frantic, almost distraught. "I need you."
Eventually, Seungcheol relents to your pleas. You look so pretty when you're begging for his cock, and that look you're giving him—you look delirious already, and he has barely done a thing.
"Shh, I've got you, sweetheart," he mutters, slipping back inside. Much to your delight, he doesn't dawdle this time. Although he does start off slow, pressing forward until his balls are pressed firmly against your ass each time he sinks in, earning a quiet sigh from you every time. "Pussy taking me so well, princess..."
At this pace, you're able to feel every slide of his cock against your pussy, the way the veins along his length rub against your walls so delectably. "God, f-fuck, fuck, Seungcheol..."
Your lover is watching your face closely, groaning now and then whenever your walls tighten around him, but amused for the most part. He doesn't want to seem arrogant, but he thinks it's incredibly flattering that you still react this way to his cock after years of being together. You're always so eager for him, shivering under his caresses as if you're starved of his touch, as if he has never sunk himself into your tight pussy again and again, only to come back for more. 
Even now, as he hooks his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to him, you're sighing out his name so exquisitely, the syllables rolling off your tongue effortlessly. Your pussy drips for him, the sweet nectar leaking onto his cock, staining your inner thighs. 
A frustrated groan bubbles in your throat as you prop yourself up onto your elbows, scowling at the man who is currently not fucking you the way you both deserve it. The drag of his cock feels good, but you need more, and you know he does too. "Cheollie," you mewl in your sweetest voice, one hand grasping a handful of your breast, squeezing it in the hope of enticing him to go faster. "Need you to go faster, please..." 
Seungcheol doesn't try to hide his smirk, stopping the movement of his hips entirely. He knows you're trying to lure and tempt him, just like the seductress you are. He would be lying if he said your siren gaze and the sultry lilt of your voice don't make him feel as though he's spellbound. It's hard not to give in when you're looking up at him like you want him to wreck and pillage your body until you are practically ruined for everyone else but him.
When you flash him a saccharine smile, it's as if there is a magnetic pull drawing him down closer to you, mouth hovering over yours. He breathes you in, painfully aware of how his cock twitches inside you when you peer at him through your lashes.
"I thought you said you'd take anything I give you," Seungcheol mumbles, hot breath fanning against your lips. He pecks your lips once, angling his head to the side when you try to lean in for more, rejecting your kiss. He coos when you pout at his rejection. "So take what I'm giving you. That's what you promised me, isn't it?"
Then he swoops down lower to trail kisses down your jaw and neck, nipping at your collarbone. You're scowling at his statement, irked that he's using your words against you. Seungcheol doesn't seem to care about your current predicament, licking his way down to the slope of your breast, biting down on the skin with enough force to make it hurt. 
"Don't you want to feel good, Cheollie? Why are you making this longer than it should be?"
"Oh, don't you worry about me, darling. I'm very much enjoying myself," he murmurs, pressing tender kisses on the side of your breast. 
You're opening your mouth to retaliate but decide against it at the last second. Instead, you press your mouth together, saying nothing as you lie back on the bed. You'll let Seungcheol have his way with you for now. Whatever game he's playing right now won't last long, and his control will crumble eventually—at least, that's what you're hoping. 
When Seungcheol wraps his lips around your nipple, you let his name escape you in a sigh. His mouth is warm as he gently suckles, tongue circling the pebbled bud. You don't need to look down at him to know he's looking up at your face, taking in your reaction. "Feels good..." you pant when he stretches his jaw open further, taking more of your breast into his mouth, teeth skimming over tender skin. 
Your arms wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer as you arch your back. The slight shift makes your brain short-circuit for a moment as his cock seems to burrow deeper inside of you, sending a flash of heat through your body. "Fuck, so big..."
Seungcheol hums against your chest, still sucking earnestly, lapping at your nipple with his tongue, pulling back now and then to look at the way your chest glistens with his spit. After some time, he switches to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment, making sure it's covered in his spit just the same as the other one. 
You're not sure whether Seungcheol realises it, but his hips have started moving again, cock pushing in and out with no precise pattern, only seeking the warmth of your cunt as it sinks in repeatedly. It's addicting but agonising as well because you want more, and you're not sure whether you can hold out any longer. "Cheol," you softly call out, hoping to gain his attention. You don't wait for him to respond before speaking again. "Need you to fuck me, please..."
He pulls back slightly, blowing cold air on your damp chest, making you shudder. "Aren't I already?" he asks as he litters kisses on the valley of your breasts, fucking into you less distractedly this time, the force of his thrust growing harder. 
You nod, breath stuttering when he finally gains speed, not as fast as you'd like but enough for your mind to go hazy. "Y-Yeah, just need—fuck—just need more..."
Seungcheol's laugh comes out a little shaky. He pushes himself back onto his knees, ignoring your whine at the loss of his warmth. "Are you being greedy, princess?" He gathers both your legs together, letting them dangle over one of his shoulders, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs soothingly when he hears your sigh of relief from the switch of position. 
"I'm not being greedy," you grit out, looking up at him, hissing when he delivers a notably hard thrust. "Please, please, just... faster..."
"See, what'd I say? That was you being greedy." Seungcheol admires you from this position, drinking in the quiet sounds you're emitting, savouring the fluttering of your pussy around his cock. 
Your eyes begin to brim with frustrated tears. You love the man with all your heart, but this is taking it a little far, even for you. You're yearning for him, blood pounding in your ears, skin aflame with desire and an insatiable hunger that threatens to swallow you entirely. How much longer do you have to wait? 
"I can't, Cheol," you sniff, tears spilling onto your cheeks. "P-Please, I really can't—"
Seungcheol shouldn't feel so satisfied with how you're crying from how overwhelming it is, but an undeniable sense of fulfilment washes over him at the sight of your tears. This is what he wanted, after all—to test your limit and push you to the edge. "Alright, sweetheart, don't cry, I've got you..."
With a kiss to your calf, Seungcheol finally grants you what you've been begging for all night, quickly finding a rhythm that immediately garners a loud cry out of you. He sighs, cock finally finding relief at the friction. He enjoyed the game while it lasted, but this—it makes him think that maybe he should've given in sooner. You could've been filled to the brim with his cum by now if it hadn't been for his stubbornness to see you pushed to your breaking point. With this thought in mind, Seungcheol fucks into you even harder, trying to make up for lost time. 
More tears escape your eyes, but it's not out of frustration this time. It's incredible how quickly the tiny sparks of pleasure can become something mighty—an unreckonable force that racks through your whole body, vicious and ruthless, almost cruel in a way.
"Still with me?" Seungcheol asks, gritting his teeth at how well you're taking him, his hands squeezing onto your thighs roughly, the hold almost painful. But you're too preoccupied with your own pleasure to care about whether or not his hands will leave bruises. 
"Baby, you still with me?" he repeats. 
"Hmm..."
Seungcheol shakes his head, not satisfied with your answer. "Talk to me, sweetheart."
"Y-Yeah," you respond, breathing in sharply. "With you..." Your words trail off into a low moan, a sound that makes Seungcheol's eyes flutter shut as he ruts into you faster. 
The sound of skin slapping against skin resonates through the bedroom. It's lewd and unmistakable. His balls slap against your puffy folds with each thrust, sending your slick splattering everywhere—on your ass, on the bed, some droplets even landing on his thighs. He loves it when you get all sloppy for him like this. 
Your hand claws at his own, nails digging into his wrist. Seungcheol lets you remove his hand from your thigh, a growl ripping in his chest when he realises your intention. Before he knows it, he has his palm splayed on your breast, one of your smaller hands resting atop his, guiding him to squeeze. He squeezes once, then twice, relishing the way you moan for him when he does. "That's it, always so good for me. You deserve this, yeah?"
"Don't stop, C-Cheol..." When you look up at him, he seems torn between looking at your face or down at the spot where his cock meets your pussy. He doesn't settle on one, letting his eyes flicker back and forth, breathing growing ragged when he notices your eyes on him. 
"Why would I stop, baby?" He lets his free hand settle on your unoccupied breast, kneading gently, enjoying how you writhe underneath him at the contact. Both hands pinch at your nipples, twisting just barely until they harden in his ministrations. "Why would I stop when you feel this good?"
You hadn't been sure at first whether you still had it in you to cum another time after doing it twice in a short span of time, but a single glance at Seungcheol has you disoriented. Something is churning in your stomach, coiling and winding like a tightly wound spring, poised to release if twisted a little further. The more you look at Seungcheol, the less focused your gaze becomes. Tiny beads of sweat trace a glistening path down his temple, and fine strands of hair cling to his forehead—a testament to the strenuous effort he has exerted thus far.
"Cheol..." you whine, tensing your thighs together, arching your chest up into his rough touches. 
"I know, I know... I can feel you tightening around me," he grits out, veins in his neck jutting out as he continues to strain himself through his thrusts, beginning to lose himself in the feeling of being buried inside your heat. He retracts his hands from your chest to grab each side of your hips. This way, he has more control of your body, able to pull you down onto his cock every time he thrusts in, pressing into you deeper. "Shit, you feel so good, princess. So fucking good, taking me so well. You love this cock, don't you?"
You don't know whether Seungcheol knows how much his words affect you, but you certainly feel the tingling shudder lick a path from the base of your back to the nape of your neck. You let him grapple at your hips and move you however he pleases, using you for his pleasure. 
"Say you love this cock, princess."
"Love it—fill me up so well, love your cock..." you slur. 
"That's right, always so needy for it."
Seungcheol has been holding himself back for some time now, his balls heavy, ready for release. With the way your pussy envelopes him so nicely and the way you're moaning and whining out his name, he knows it will only be a matter of time before he finishes. "You close, baby?" he asks you, chest heaving with every laboured breath he takes. His eyes are screwed shut, afraid he'd cum too soon if he catches a glimpse of your fucked-out face and bouncing tits. 
"Mmph, feels s-so good..."
Seungcheol brings one hand down to the space between your legs, slipping his thumb through the tight press of your plush thighs, quickly finding your clit. He doesn't take into account, however, the way your pussy would tighten around his dick as soon as he starts drawing quick circles around the sensitive bud. He doesn't have the time to warn you, only letting out a strained growl of your name as he is thrown over the edge, emptying himself inside you, filling you up in ribbons of cum that seem never-ending. 
Taken by surprise, you can only squeal, wide eyes searching for his as you grab onto his wrist. Seungcheol keeps his hips pressed to yours, balls smearing slick over your ass as he fills you to the brim. You keen at the feeling, toes curling as you savour the warmth of his cum as it paints your walls white. 
He shudders as the last spurts finally spill inside you, his hips rocking gently on their own, riding out the last few seconds. "Fuck, baby," he groans. He's panting, trying to suck in as much air into his lungs as he can with each inhale, the impact of his orgasm hitting more forcefully since he had been unintentionally edging himself for the past hour or so.
He knows you will eventually ask for more, but he's relieved you're giving him time to recover. He leans his head against your calf and closes his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing. It's hard because the thought that you're still in front of him, naked, dripping his seed, makes him feel winded in a way that is obscene. 
"Cheol..."
"Yeah?" he grunts. 
"You okay?" 
He lets your legs fall from his shoulder, gently setting it down onto the bed, easing you to lie on your side. "Mhm... m' fine," he swallows, "just give me a minute."
When he slides out of you, you let slip a squeak that makes Seungcheol crack a small smile. He splays a hand on the back of your thigh, leaning back slightly to catch a glimpse of the mess between your legs. He can't help the stirring of his cock as he watches driblets of his cum leak out of you, seeping into the bedsheets.
Seungcheol finds it difficult to tear his eyes away from the glorious sight of your ruined cunt. He suddenly finds himself in a predicament. He knows he needs to take a breather, even if there is a part of him that aches to bury himself into you and fill you with his cum for the second time tonight.
Finally, he settles himself beside you, positioning himself so that he's spooning you from behind. He brushes his hand down from your shoulder to your arm and then down the enticing curve of your waist. Your skin is soft and supple against his palm. His caresses must tickle because your giggles fill his ears as you writhe away from his teasing touch. "Cheol..." your whine of his name makes a rush of affection wash over him. 
Seungcheol grins, pushing himself up onto his elbow to lean over you just enough to nestle his face into the crook of your neck. When he nips at your jaw, you let out a breathless sigh, and he knows it won't be long until you ask him for more. He would give you more if only he hadn't just finished twice over the course of an hour. He will have to find another way to satiate your hunger. 
Your eyes flutter shut, humming when you feel Seungcheol's lips on your shoulder blade. You don't say anything as you push your lower half into him, which earns a grunt from the man as his sensitive cock comes into contact with your ass. Much to your dismay, his hand immediately flies to your waist, gently moving you away from him. 
"Baby," he rasps, the strain discernible in his voice. He pecks your lips when you tilt your head to pout at him. "Turn over and face me, hm?"
Slightly confused, you do as he says anyway, gasping when he pulls you into him with a hand on your lower back. With your chest pressed into his and face only inches away, you give him a questioning look, circling your arms around his neck and pressing a brief kiss to his lips. "Now what?"
Seungcheol responds by kissing you. His kiss is hard and fierce, stealing your breath as he sinks his teeth into your lower lip, soothing the stinging bite with a fleeting sweep of his tongue. You arch into him, moaning into his mouth when you feel his free hand trail up your chest to settle on the nape of your neck, allowing him to have a better reign. 
Something presses against your aching cunt, and you have to break away with a dazed gasp, peering down between your bodies. Seungcheol has shoved his leg between yours, angling his thigh upward to press against you.
The hand on your back moves to the dip of your waist, encouraging you to roll your hips back and forth. The realisation of what he wants you to do makes you whimper. "Oh, God—"
"Shh, just focus on me, sweetheart. You can be a good girl and ride my thigh, yeah?"
When you try to respond, nothing comes out except a garbled moan. You must look so salacious to him—moving your hips back and forth like a desperate whore, dragging your wet pussy against his thigh, eyes rolling back from the simulation on your clit. You swear you see stars dancing in your vision, skin prickling as every thought in your mind withers into nothing. 
"That's it, I can feel how warm you are... So fucking warm and wet."
You try to kiss him again but find yourself pulling away shortly after, too dazed to keep up with the force of Seungcheol's kisses. His thigh is drenched and sticky from the mixture of your juices and his cum that has leaked out of your hole, but he keeps you stable with a firm grip on the back of your thigh. Whenever you roll your hips, the squelching sound from between your thighs is distinct, and it makes your whole face burn. 
With a sigh of his name, you weave your fingers through his hair, tugging when the stimulation becomes too intense for your liking. It feels fucking euphoric—the way his solid thigh feels against your soaked pussy as it drags up, down, up, down—but it's somehow not enough at the same time. 
Seungcheol thinks your moans sound like angels singing in his ears, and he eagerly drinks it all in, watching your face intently at the same time, relishing the way your eyes roll back during moments when the pleasure washes over you in waves. "So cute." 
"Fuck, Cheol, 's not enough..."
Seungcheol's mouth stretches into a grin, letting a few seconds pass in silence as he watches you rut desperately against his thigh, so keen to reach your long-awaited high. "Not enough? You're dripping all over me, though?" To prove his point, he withdraws his thigh from between your legs, shushing you when you whine in protest. "Let's see..."
Two of his fingers swipe at the sticky residue on his thigh. He lifts his hand to your face, showing the glossy remnant on his fingers. To further taunt you, he spreads the fingers apart, allowing a stringy thread of the creamy slick to bridge the gap between the two digits. He doesn't bother concealing his smirk when your sheepish face comes into focus, cheeks red from a combination of arousal and shame. 
You huff when he sticks his fingers into his mouth, tasting the slick that clings to it. The deep hum that rumbles in his chest kindles a fire in you that you know can only be doused by Seungcheol's touch alone. You can only watch, stunned, mind teeming with a flurry of wild thoughts as he finally removes his fingers from his mouth. 
"Now you choose, princess. It's either my thigh or nothing at all."
It takes you a moment to decipher his words. "But that's not fair..." you whine. 
"Just choose."
"I don't wanna..."
"Time's ticking."
You give in—of course you do. Knowing Seungcheol, he probably would stay true to his words. He wouldn't have any problem leaving you high and dry as he excuses himself to the bathroom to clean himself up. Then, he would come back to bed as if nothing had happened, and he wouldn't give in no matter how much you cling to him and beg for even an ounce of his attention. Then you'd have to wait until the morning to finally get some relief, either by his fingers or tongue, because he always insists on fucking you only after he has had his dose of morning coffee. It's infuriating, but it would be a lie if you said you didn't enjoy his pesky games. 
"Fine... Your thigh is fine."
"Use your big girl words."
"I need your thigh, please, Cheol. Pretty please..."
Seungcheol pauses briefly, letting your words sink in before he nods in approval. "Alright, if you insist." 
When he slots his thigh between your legs again, it's as if you've stumbled upon an oasis amid a scorching drought. The pleasure is liberating, and you're sighing his name against the crook of his neck, melting into his touch, going putty in his hold. You're grasping at both his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as the tautness in your stomach gradually builds again. It's slow, almost torturous, but the mounting tension from before has you trembling, and Seungcheol notices. He always does. 
"Breathe," he reminds you, tapping your cheek gently to ensure you hear him. "Take your time and breathe, 'm not going anywhere."
"Unghh, I don't know if I can—"
"You can, baby," he encourages softly.
Seungcheol pulls you even closer by your thigh, hitching your leg a little higher against his hips, spreading you open a little more. He can feel you throbbing against him, and the warmth emanating from between your legs makes him feel heady. 
"Fuck," he cusses, wishing so badly it was his cock that was making you writhe in his embrace and cry out his name so sweetly. "Stay with me. Are you close?"
You sob at the question. "I don't know. God, C-Cheol..."
"Hey, look at me, princess." Seungcheol nods when you finally compose yourself enough to look at him. "Breathe, and focus on me."
The movement of your hips doesn't stop as he mutters his instructions. 
"Uh-uh, keep your eyes on me," he reprimands when he notices your gaze flittering down to the glistening mess on his thigh. "That's right, keep those pretty eyes on me. That's it..."
You're sure you've lost all your ability to communicate effectively or conjure up a coherent sentence. The only word you manage to babble and stutter out is Seungcheol's name. No matter how much you try, you can't help the shaking of your legs or the ragged rise and fall of your chest as you try to gulp in enough air. It feels so fucking good—you want to tell him—but nothing comes out except choked moans and whimpers. 
"Don't worry about anything else. Just focus on the feeling..."
"C-Cheol, 'm close... I don't—I'm—"
"Shh, just relax. It's going to feel so good when you let go," Seungcheol says, hand still secure on the back of your thigh, helping you grind down against him. He thinks he might need a long, cold shower after this is all over. 
When you breathe in, the smell of Seungcheol's tantalising cologne fills your nose, and you can't help but cry out. The mix of patchouli and bergamot combined with the natural scent of his musk makes you tense against him. He smells heavenly. He smells like home. "Oh my God, ungh—"
"It's okay, you can cum. No one's stopping you."
Your eyes drift over his face, focusing on every feature and every detail, no matter how minuscule. Ultimately, it is precisely the look in his dark eyes that throws you over the edge. His eyes have an allure to them—filled with desire and longing that dance wildly in the shadows, luring you into their mysterious depth.  
The pleasure doesn't hit you all at once—it starts from the end of your toes, trailing up your legs, erupting into flurries of flames in your stomach, winding up your spine like an electric current that singes at every nerve. The euphoria builds like a crescendo, like a warmth that blossoms into an inferno and sweeps through your whole being. Your skin burns, but you feel as though you're drowning—chest tight, eyes glassy, mouth agape in a silent shout. Blood roars in your ears, and each heartbeat feels like a drumbeat, pounding against the confines of your ribcage, a relentless rhythm that drowns out every other sound. 
When the pleasure finally subsides, it leaves a lingering warmth that seems to simmer under your skin. It's a pleasant buzzing, one that makes you feel drowsy. You slump against Seungcheol, hiding your face in his bare chest, trying to hide your bashful smile that would give away how blissful you currently feel. You breathe in his perfume, grounding yourself, soaking in the heat of his body as he gently brushes a palm up and down your back. 
Seungcheol tenderly clasps your hand, lifting it delicately to plant a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist. His kisses trail down, mouth caressing each fingertip before turning your hand gently. With utmost reverence, he presses his lips against the glimmering engagement ring on your finger, bestowing it with two tender pecks, a silent promise sealed in each kiss.
"I love you," he whispers against your temple, nosing at your cheekbone. "But do you think you could cum that fast again?"
Still recovering from your high, you struggle to grasp his words. "What do you mean?"
"Like before. I mean, I was barely in you, and you were cumming all over me so fast I almost didn't realise—"
Your loud gasp cuts him off. "You are such a dick! Stop talking about that!"
"Never!" he objects, dimples showing when he grins. "It's going to make for the perfect story to tell to all our friends—"
Deciding your words won't effectively shut his blabbering mouth, you're left with no choice but to resort to slapping his arm instead, not stopping until he seizes your wrist, effectively thwarting your assault on him. 
"Okay, okay," he concedes with a laugh. "I'm just kidding. That story will forever stay with me and me only. I'm sorry, okay?"
"You don't look sorry."
"You're right, it was just so fucking hot—"
"You're insufferable. Break off our engagement right now."
The faux horror that overtakes his face is hilarious. "Alright, I'll stop. I really am sorry. Seriously."
You giggle at the admission. "You're stuck with me, you know? There's no backing out of a marriage with me."
He playfully sighs. "Hm, I'm not so sure about that.. I mean, it's not like we're already married—"
"Nice try, but I've already picked out my dress, and it's non-refundable."
"True, and I've just put a baby in you as well, so..."
You lean back, flashing him an incredulous look. "Again, nice try. Still on the pills, dummy."
"And what if they suddenly just... vanished?"
Snickering, you sit up, feeling unbearably icky and sweaty. "Why don't you marry me first, and then we can try having children. Deal?" You don't wait for his response, pushing yourself off the bed and shuffling your way to the bathroom. You can almost feel his eyes burning lasers into your bare ass. 
"Why don't you start calling me daddy from now on? You know, for practice?"
"Absolutely not."
"What do you think about having four children?" 
"I love you too, Seungcheol."
"Is that a yes?"
"You're cute."
There's a pause. "So, yes?"
"What should we do this weekend?" 
You hear him get off the bed, his thundering footsteps drawing nearer. "Stop changing the subject!"
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© sweetlemontart — all rights reserved. ✮⋆˙
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literaila · 1 month
Text
jealousy
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: satoru doesn't like the way the barista is looking at you
a/n: figured i'd give you all a little fluff (save me from this void)
last part | next part
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*
year five.
“megumi, go get your mom.” 
satoru and megumi are sitting in a crowded cafe, saving your spot, waiting for you to come back. 
while the sun coming in through the window satoru is sitting across from is partially blinding him, he can still see you. 
you, trying to order, being ogled by the barista who's been granted the pleasure of speaking to you. your smile is normal--to satoru's obvious disdain--and you don't even seem to mind the man's obvious flirting. 
(not that it really means much. when satoru leans in like that, you just push him away. when he swoons at the way you've done your hair on any specific day, you just roll your eyes. 
so maybe you're not the best judge of flirting. or attraction. or how to reject a tiny schoolboy, like the one you're talking to.)
satoru's only been watching this interaction for thirty seconds, but he's had enough. 
“why?” megumi turns, looking back at you. “she’s getting us hot chocolate.” 
satoru sighs, no care in the world. can't the kid ever listen to him? “go hold her hand then.” 
“why?” 
“because.” 
“but why?” 
satoru gives megumi a (pathetic) glare. “listen to me, young man," he tries to say it like you would--if megumi ever denied any of your requests--but it doesn't work. satoru has to try not to laugh directly after the words are out of his mouth. 
so what if he doesn't want you talking to that kid? he's just looking out for you. 
megumi's brows raise. he looks... almost amused. “what’s wrong with you? you go hold her hand.” 
satoru hangs his head. you told him to sit here and keep the table for all of you, told him to watch megumi and not do anything stupid--which, to be fair, is difficult for him. so he can't go get you (save you).
and plus, he doesn't want you to know that he cares. if you like that kid--with his stupid dark hair and eyes and soft smile and obvious heart eyes--then he doesn't want to know. 
and if he goes up to you, he'll know. 
“i can’t," he tells megumi, instead of saying any of that. the boy would just cackle in his face. 
“are you scared?” megumi asks, very seriously, as if satoru is afraid of anything. 
(besides you falling for someone else, of course. but that doesn't count). 
he looks over to the kid again, who you're chatting idly with as you search through your purse. he wonders if you're telling the barista that you spend every night in his bed, making out with him until your lips are puffy. 
if he keeps smiling at you like that satoru is going to get up and tell him himself. 
satoru scoffs, looking away finally, back to megumi who looks thoroughly entertained by his father's pain. he crosses his arms. “no.” 
megumi shrugs, looking back again. seriously, satoru should've kicked him out when he had the chance. he probably would've been fine with the zenin clan. probably. 
“well, i’m not doing it," the boy says, with obvious satisfaction. 
if only tsumiki was here. satoru never should've let megumi ditch school, or let him come with you both to get coffee. tsumiki would help him. she probably would've asked you to get yakitori instead and satoru could listen to you try to make small talk with a waitress instead of that guy. 
“megumi fushiguro,” satoru begins, voice rough. “do you want your mother to live in a rat-infested apartment with a random, cesspit man, and several tiny babies running around all of the time? tiny wimpy babies? normal, human babies. you’ll have to stay over there and share a bed with multiple infants who will spit up on you.”
megumi blinks. “what are you even talking about?” 
“go stand next to her," satoru hisses, because he swears he can hear your laugh from across the cafe, and honestly he's never wanted to destroy an establishment more. 
and that's saying something. 
at least the man would be without a job and satoru would never have to see him push his hair back and tilt his head at you again. 
megumi looks back again like it's going to explain anything satoru does, and he smirks. “that guy doesn’t look too bad.” 
satoru's jaw clenches. “i will mismatch all of your socks.” 
megumi scowls at him. "all of my socks are the same, after last time." 
satoru huffs and leans back against his chair, pouting. "what did i do to deserve this?"
“do you think mom likes him?” megumi asks, voice so innocent it makes satoru want to shave his hair off. 
“go.” 
megumi blinks at him, tilting his head. yeah, he's really putting on an act now. “but she said to wait here," he reminds satoru like it matters. 
“tell her you missed her, or something," satoru goes to wave a hand, but his hand only clenches when he physically sees you laugh at the man. you're not even ordering now, you're just standing there (waiting for their drinks) talking to the guy. 
“you tell her you missed her," megumi retorts, enjoying satoru's one and only weakness. 
"no." 
"she's laughing," megumi points out, resting his chin on a hand. "and it's rude to interrupt grown-ups when they talk."  
“megumi,” satoru begs, hating the weird, annoying feeling in his chest. he wants to dig his own heart out and yell at it. “please.” 
megumi is basically smirking at him now, waiting for a beat longer for satoru to really break--and seriously kill every person within a ten-mile radius--but eventually, right before it happens, the boy sighs. his eyes are evil, evil things. 
"fine," he tells satoru, rolling his eyes. he stands up from his hair and pats satoru on the shoulder like it will make up for anything. the boy has the worst smile satoru's ever seen in his life. 
and then he makes his way through the line of people--seriously, this guy is a terrible barista--and taps you on your waist, going to stand right up against the counter. megumi says something to you--you will all of your charm, and your irresistible smiles--and you hold a hand out to him, which he grabs immediately. 
your smile, satoru notices with immense relief, shifts on instinct. it goes from something formal and polite to something genuine. you look down at your son and the barista you've been talking to for the last minute is completely irrelevant. 
and satoru takes great satisfaction in the way the kid's eyes widen, and the instinctual step back he takes--like he knows that satoru is going to hurt him if he continues to lean over the counter towards you. 
satoru relaxes, watching you ask megumi something, but only slightly. 
and after a second you turn your head, raising a brow at him. 
the little brat. 
satoru just smiles--offering you more than some shotty barista ever could--and leans back in his chair. 
“why are you being so weird today?” 
satoru’s chin is on your head, and even though you can’t see his smile, it falters, just a little bit. "don't know what you're talking about." 
"you're sticky." 
"i just showered." 
"okay," you say, turning and rolling your eyes at satoru's pout. instantly his hands go to your waist, keeping you right there with him. "first of all, no you didn't. and i didn't mean literally. you're... clingy. more clingy than usual." 
"i can't want to be around you?"
you give him a blank stare. "not when you're being weird about it." 
"how am i being weird?" 
"how aren't you?" 
satoru grins, leaning his head down to push his nose into your cheek. you smell like something sweet--something he'd devour in an instant--but he's not sure what. he doesn't even care. he doesn't answer that question, only hums into your skin. 
"see what i mean?" 
"it's not my fault that you're comfy." 
"oh, im so sorry," you say, fake pity in your voice. "let me just turn myself into stone real quick." 
satoru rolls his eyes, pulling back just so he can see the amused look on your face--yeah, he knows that you don't actually care. but the more he hangs onto you, the more affection he shows, the warier you get. 
and that's perfectly fine with him, actually. as long as you don't push him away.  
"please do," he says, so genuinely. "it would make this a lot easier." 
"make what a lot easier?" you ask, voice a bit softer. maybe it's because he's looking at you now, actually looking. 
and satoru knows, really knows, that there's not a single other person in the world who you look at like this. there's not another man that you'd let sniff you, no other man that would dare to irritate you the way that he loves to. 
satoru's worked several years to get you to be this comfortable, this easy around him. and even if there was someone else--he wouldn't give you up without a fight. 
you're his in a way that transcends labels or reality.
still, he doesn't answer that question (because you already know). he only smiles a bit more, leans in, and basks in the way your lips mold to his immediately. 
*
next part | series masterlist
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bubblebbg · 5 months
Note
can i ask for a jealous mizu from blue eye samurai feeling a little overprotective and jealous when taigen spars with reader bc they are a swordmaster as well? Mizu doesn’t like it how taigen always gets you to laugh or how he injures you when sparring
why yes, anon. you may. Only warning is violence, but like, not really? Not proofread. Also, Mizu's pronouns change per perspective. I may as well shamelessly plug my other Mizu fic right here ;))
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❝𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝❞
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Mizu has no one to blame but herself when she's forced to bite back her envy and watch you with Taigen. If you two spar one more time, she might throw up in her mouth. It's about time she takes matters into her own hands.
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The clinking of metal on metal, the air sliced through with a swish; all sounds Mizu has become accustomed to. Nonetheless, her eyebrow twitches in irritation, eyes following the movements in front of her. She thinks to herself that she never wanted to be this accustomed to those sounds, especially not when accompanied with Taigen's stupid remarks.
She watches you double back after having knocked him down yet again in the midst of your spars. She hates the way the both of you giggle.
"Please," Mizu rolls her eyes, "It can't be that funny the eighth time."
Taigen collects his sword and stands, sheathing it before dusting himself off. "Like you could do any better. Sure, you're good, but you're no master." He looks to you as he says this, smiling as if the praise was at all inconspicuous. She scoffs a bit when you smile back, crossing her arms and looking to the side.
The irony of her jealousy is that it's of her own making. You've asked Mizu to train with you before, and every time it's been a no. Because she cares about you, she at least does you the decency of making up excuses. "I'm tired, maybe tomorrow" or "I'm busy" - poor excuses, she knows, but she's trying here - and you've learned to stop asking. The truth is, she doesn't trust herself to not give away what she tries to keep hidden. Her heart already beats hard enough around you. The consequence? Watching you spar with a man who's clearly inferior to you, all while he makes pathetic advances and jokes. She's not sure if she hates him or herself more right now.
"But that's right," Taigen remarks, a snarky look on his face, "You're too scared, aren't you?"
The look in your eyes is cautionary as you nudge him. "Stop it," you mutter. And Mizu knows she shouldn't be so childish as to take the bait, but this isn't about you; it's a direct challenge from Taigen on her (sort of) manlihood.
"I am not scared."
"Then prove it. Duel. Right now."
"That's enough, Taigen," you reply, always the mediator, "If Mizu doesn't want to spar, then he -"
"I'll do it," she stands, approaching you both and stopping in front of Taigen with a searing look, "And you'll see that you're not even half the swordsman I am."
𓆩… . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . …𓆪
Inhale. Exhale. You stand face to face, a few meters apart, each a hand on their sword. The cold bites, snow falling between the two of you. When you look into her eyes, you see blazing fire, a spirit like tempered steel. When she looks into yours, there's something more unnerving; calm, like the surface of water undisturbed. Her heart pounds.
Inhale, she wills herself. Exhale. She draws and lunges, and you're quick to block it. Another swing, and another, and another, all quick and strong. Sharp eyes, she thinks. Each attack of hers is stopped as soon as it begins. Your eyes, watching as if not only to prevent, but to predict.
Inhale. She steps back, assessing. You're like a fortress - impenetrable defense. Your lips curl in the slightest smile and there goes her damn heart's pounding again.
Exhale. She drops to a crouch and swipes snow at you in an attempt to blind you, to throw off your analysis. She lunges through the spray with a decisive blow, a duel-ending strike.
Nothing. Her blade hits nothing.
Instead there's a blade at her throat, with you behind her. "How the hell did you -"
She reddens at the feeling of your warm chuckle at her ear. "You're breathing gives you away," you whisper, "Every time, without fail." You sheath your blade and Mizu whips around to look at you. She can't help but share the smile you give her. "Dirty bastard," she replies, and your laughter fills the air, the only sound she'll never tire of.
"Hah! I knew it, you're no match either, Mizu!"
Mizu's about to reply when you beat her to it.
"Whatever Taigen, he lasted longer than you ever will."
And it's Mizu's turn to laugh.
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pretty-little-mind33 · 3 months
Text
Sweeter Than Fiction
James Potter x muggle fem!reader
Summary: After months of dating, James finally tells you he's a wizard.
Genre: Fluff <3
pt.2 to Enchanted
Warnings: tbh none
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6 months later, James is sprawled out on your couch in your small London apartment. He's dressed in your university sweater, which hugs him snugly but he doesn't seem like he minds. You'd switched into his so he doesn't have much of a choice anyway.
He's pretending to really read the book he had found on your dresser but he keeps his eyes trained on how absorbed you seem in the show you're watching.
James sees the title; "Sabrina The Teenage Witch". He smiles to himself when he sees you try and wiggle your nose like she does and you fall back onto James lap, sighing. 
"D'you think I'd make a good witch?" you ask suddenly and his heart almost collapses. 
He runs a hand in your hair, playing with the strands as he ponders your question, "Mmm, yeah, you would, lovie," he says and chuckles when you sit up and start to ramble. 
"I mean, can you just imagine having magic! I could–I could make all this mess disappear instantly!" you exclaim happily, gesturing to your slightly messy apartment, and then look into his eyes, "wouldn't having magic be fun, Jamie?" 
James frowns. You say it so innocently but he starts to wonder if you could know? It has been months.
He sits up, tilting his head at you. He's been wanting to tell you he's a wizard for a while now, plus James wouldn't admit this out loud yet but he knows he wants to marry you and you deserve to know the truth before he asks you to spend your life with him, don't you? 
"Y/n," he whispers but you interrupt him. 
"And I mean, flying on a broom! How silly! Can't you just imagine it?" 
James smiles, completely endeared, "Yeah, I can," he tucks some hair behind your ear and reaches into the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls out his wallet and you stare at him confused as he holds out a folded old polaroid. He hands it to you.
"What's this?" you ask curiously, crossing your legs.
At first, it looks like a simple picture of a group of boys. There are four of them and they look around sixteen if you had to guess. The tallest has his arms crossed and he's standing in the middle as the boy to his right, a shorter boy with long dark hair, has his arm swung around him. A short, stout boy looks timidly at the camera next to the taller one and next to him, what looks like a young James is happily grinning and holding up a fancy looking broom in triumph. James and the longer-haired boy are dressed in a maroon and yellow sports uniform while the other boys are dressed in simple school uniforms. 
The picture seems relatively normal for a second until it starts to move. James in the picture lifts the  broom and the long-haired boy continues to hug the taller one. You gasp, dropping the picture onto the couch and it flutters to the back where you see written, "Prongs, Wormtail, Moony, and Padfoot, Hogwarts 1976."
"What the hell?" you whisper, voice breaking, and you think you must be imagining things. You look up at James, who is staring at you intently. "James? W-why did that polaroid just move?" you ask and James's stare softens. 
He picks up the polaroid and smiles, he shows it to you again. "That's me and my best friends at school," he says but when he looks at you, his smile falters. You look terrified, "Love, it's okay it's just a picture."
"No, it isn't. It's moving!" you say, leaning away from him a little.
James's chest tightens. "I know," he says seriously, "Promise not to panic, okay? But, I'm a wizard." 
He says it so calmly you're silent for a moment until you start to laugh. You laugh so hard tears brim in your eyes and James is concerned.
He holds your cheeks in his hands. "No, Y/n, I mean it. I'm a wizard," he stands and walks to his jean-jacket hanging in the entrance. He pulls out his wand and points it at you.
You look scared again when he mutters an unfamiliar word and suddenly, you feel a drizzle of snow fall over your shoulders and unless your ceiling disappeared and it's snowing in July, you know it has to be James. 
You let out a shriek and cover your mouth as your eyes widen. James lowers his wand and rushes over, the snow disappearing. "It's okay. I promise I won't hurt you, lovie," he pauses and carefully sits next to you. He's relieved when don't scoot away from him, "I couldn't keep this from you anymore. I love you. You deserve to know who I am."
You're looking at him intensely and you pick up the polaroid again, examining it closer. After a moment you look up and narrow your eyes. You press your index on where James is in the picture. "Why are you holding a broom?" you ask simply and James almost laughs. 
"Gryffindor had just won an important Quidditch match, I think."
"Gryff-what won what?"
"Um, my house- um. Quidditch it's a sport. Where you—um, ride a broom."
You look at him and James can't read your expression.
"You can fly on a broom?" you suddenly ask, sounding less nervous now. You look at the picture and then you crack a smile. "You do look cute all dressed up," you put the polaroid near his ear, almost as if you're making sure the boy in the picture is actually James.
Your boyfriend nods and looks at you wearily, biting his lip. He has so much he wants to say. "So, have you always been a witch—" you ask.
"Wizard," he interrupts but you ignore him.
"—or did some creepy troll turn you into one? Oh my, are you the only witch to exist?" you sound almost excited now.
"Wizard," James says and then takes the picture from your hand and holds yours in his. "And no. I'm not. All my friends and family are. You believe me, yeah?"
You think for a moment. "Yeah," you shrug, looking up at the ceiling and then the wand in James's other hand, "you did make it snow, didn't you?" your smile widens and you point at his wand as you say, "Can you make it snow again! Or show me another spell. Please?"
James hesitates but when he sees a small scab on your hand from where you'd cut yourself earlier, he mutters a spell he knows by heart from all the Quidditch tumbles he's had and the wound suddenly disappears. 
Your eyes widen and you hold up your palm awkwardly. You look where the scab had been, mesmerized as you run your fingers over the now, non-existent, wound. 
"I know this is a lot for you to understand now, lovie. But, I want to explain everything. Anything you want to know," he says seriously and you look back up at him. 
You ask question after question, the reality of the situation becoming even more intense as you hear stories from his school and how unfamiliar he had been about "muggles" until he'd met his ex-girlfriend and then, well, you. 
"So, wait, witches and wizards exist and we– muggles? –just don't know?" you say after his little speech and James nods. He's sitting criss-cross in front of you on your couch and he's running his thumb over your hand, hoping his gesture is reassuring. You look confused, "Aren't you gonna get in trouble with the—"
"Ministry of Magic for telling you?" James finishes, understanding what you're trying to ask him.
You nod. 
James shakes his head and looks into your eyes. "No, because I didn't just tell anyone. You aren't some random person on the street, lovie. You're my girlfriend and I love you. I'm glad you know," he kisses your forehead quickly and you lean up to catch his lips. 
"I'm glad I know too," you smile and caress his cheek. It's your way of showing him you don't see him any differently. You turn to the polaroid picture still in your lap and pick it up. "I can't wait to meet more of your wizard friends now," you smile. 
James smirks, a twinkle in his eyes. "You already have, darling," he says. 
You look closer at the picture and your eyes widen, "No way!" you exclaim looking up at James in disbelief as you start to recognize two of the other boys in the picture. "Remy and Siri too?!"
James chuckles and nods. You turn the polaroid over again and look at the names scribbled in ink. "Then what's up with the weird nicknames? Prongs? Is that you?" you deduce from the order. 
James hums and kisses your temple as he pulls you in closer.
"Why Prongs?" you ask, pointing both your index fingers and putting them on your head, "like little devil horns? Or a fork?" you giggle at the last suggestion and James is entirely enchanted by you. 
He looks at you fondly and chuckles, "Like stag antlers, lovie."
"Why?"
"Because I can turn into a stag, if I wanted to," James explains slowly, realizing he'd forgotten to mention that tiny detail.
"You WhAT?!"
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
Note
OMG CAN YOU DO A ALASTOR X MOTHER READER WHERE THEY WAS TRYING TO HAVE ALONE TIME YK MOMMY N DADDY TIME BUT THE TWINS CAME AND RUIN PUSHING ALASTOR AWAY SO HE WON'T TOUCH THEIR MOMMY
👀
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Suggestive?, Alastor VS His babies, Alastor and his kids being possessive
Description: 👆⬆️
When it first happens, Alastor thinks it's adorable and can't help laughing at his silly children
He had come back from an overlord meeting and was eager to kiss you, pulling you in close
"How was the meeting, darling?"
His lips are almost touching yours, practically teasing both of you by denying that final touch
"Uneventful as always, my dear~"
Just when he goes to close the distance, you're both suddenly frozen in place, feeling little hands pushing you apart
You both look down to see your twins trying to shove Alastor away from you with all their little might
Their little faces scrunched up in outrage and concern as they try to break their father's iron grip on you
"Oh my~! It seems someone doesn't like it when I take their mother's attention~"
He's laughing and picking up the twins just to squish them between you and him, kissing their squishy cheeks
"BA!"
The second time it happens, Alastor is shocked, not realizing how serious his babies were about this
They're sitting in their highchairs, being fed by you when he comes up to kiss your cheek
His arm wraps around you and he rubs his cheek on you, not paying attention to the warning growls from his spawn
Or the way their ears fold back and they start bleating at him to get off their mother
He goes to kiss you, when suddenly, there's a wet slap of food hitting his cheek
You have to cover your mouth to keep from laughing, your twins already grabbing another handful of food
"Now now~ It's important to share with your pap-OH! That's not very polite..!"
It seems Alastor has finally met his match, running out of the room with his tail between his legs
The third time is when Alastor starts getting concerned, the two of you alone in bed
He just wanted some time alone with you after you two had put the twins down for the night
And you could hardly deny him with his lips kissing along your neck and strong arms pulling you against him
Eventually, his lips find yours, and the kiss turns heated with wandering hands starting to slide under each other's clothes-
When there's a cry from the baby monitor and you both are taken out of the mood, giving each other sheepish looks
"Not to worry, darling~ Watch as your capable husband puts them back to sleep~"
Alastor picks up the monitor and speaks into it softly, his voice usually enough to make the babies fall back asleep
Instead, there's the sharp sound of radio interference and an indignant shriek on the other side, making your husband's ears fold back
"I think I should probably be the one to put them back to bed..."
You give your husband a small pat on the head before kissing him, heading into the nursery for the night
The bed has never felt more lonely
Alastor never thought his own children would turn on him, betrayal truly is a devastating thing
SOMEHOW his children have gotten the idea in their heads that their mother isn't something to SHARE
He has no idea how they learned that
It looks like he'll have to do something he had hoped he would NEVER have to do
Talk about sharing his wife
With his children
But still
So he takes the children for the day, letting you have a day to yourself and kicking you out of the hotel
His twins are obviously a little miffed at him for sending you away, it wasn't a decision that Alastor made lightly
But without the object of their little obsession, then they're back to being his loving little babies
They're snuggling into him when he decides to try and explain why the three of them need to share you
"Now, your mother and I...we need time not only for ourselves but also for each other."
At first, the twins eye him with a dubious expression on their faces, little hands curling into angry fists
"And the three of us, we all love her very much, don't we?"
Then they start to relax and lean on him again, as if accepting their father's words
Things feel calmer when you come back home later that night, your husband and babies all practically glomping on you
Whatever rivalry they had going on before seems to have ended, finally being able to have some affection from your husband without being interrupted
"So...it looks like we're alone~"
"It would seem so, darling~"
He's chuckling and pulling you close, reaching back to lock the door behind him-
"Um? Alastor? There's a bunch of angry guys outside and..."
At least not by your own children
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SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG
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suiana · 3 months
Text
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(yandere! foreign exchange student x gn! reader) (thanks for 8k 😍😍)
"can you stop being so annoying?"
"what?"
he stares at you with a raised eyebrow, pouting as he rests his cheek on his palm. with both arms propped up on the table, he reaches out his other arm towards you. obviously you back away in disgust at his affection... and you can't help but notice the way he narrows his eyes at your reaction.
he, as in, your annoying buddy. hiroto yamada, your buddy for the foreign exchange program which you were unwillingly made to participate in.
you knew bad things would happen when you saw the program, yet you were made to participate in it because you had joined the university wellbeing club. curse you and your past impulsive decisions.
honestly, things were fine in the beginning. apart from the fact that you had to socialize with others and waste your breath explaining things in the university... everything was quite alright. he wasn't too extroverted, liked to keep to himself as well...
that was until you started suspecting that he liked you.
you didn't want to believe it. there was no way. like, it's literally the absolute worse thing that could happen that would disrupt your peaceful school life.
so you pretended to not see the obvious signs he threw at you. you treated him like how you used to treat him, aka like a classmate you wouldn't talk to outside of class...
so it wasn't unexpected that he'd get frustrated. in fcat, it was actually a wonder that he managed to go for so long without shouting at you to stop ignoring the signs (he lasted 6 weeks).
eventually he confessed but... you didn't accept. duh. you didn't even like him that way! you didn't even treat him like a close friend so why would you fall or accept his love?
so you rejected him. understandable response.
but he wouldn't take it for an answer.
so he constantly pestered you in hopes that you'd finally give in and say yes. which is what led you to your current situation.
"you know, trying to act like my boyfriend..."
"but I'm just practicing for the future that will happen?"
he raises an eyebrow, seemingly confused as you roll your eyes at his reply. you make no move to explain yourself because you knew that he understood what you meant. he's a smart guy after all. he just likes playing dumb to get on your nerves.
and right now he's doing that.
you honestly wanted to just beat him up but that'll never work out in your favor. so you settle for the next best thing and that's to ignore him. and it always works.
turning around to face away from him, you plug in your ear phones and tune his blabbering out as you attempt to ignore him. it worked for a little bit but he always gets irritated the second you lose interest in him.
"hey pay attention to me..."
he whines softly, tugging on your shirt. you continue to ignore him, humming softly as you scroll on social media. oh this is a nice post-
but the second you move your hand to like it, he yanks the phone out of your grip and hides it in his bag. his face displays an annoyed expression, furrowed eyebrows and downturned lips.
you wanted to smack his face so bad. and you were just about to do that until he speaks in a chilling tone.
"you can't keep ignoring me. you know that we'll end up with each other. it's inevitable."
he mumbles before caressing your cheek. you shiver, eyes wide as your blood runs cold. shit! unconsensual touch! unconsensual touch!
but as much as you hated his touch, you couldn't move away for you were too frozen in fear. he always had a way of scaring you with his voice. and he loved to abuse it.
"you're really going to make me mad... so please don't keep resisting. it's not humourous or cute."
he mutters quietly before giggling as he lets go of your face. all you do is stare at him, still frozen in place as you gulp and finally look away.
god damn it. you really should've fought harder to get out of the exchange program.
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