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#did you guys do this? how are you finding this??
joonberriess · 3 days
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⋆ TAGS — boxer!jk, he’s a fanboy, pouty jkkkkkk, oc’s a idol, sugar daddy elements, fluffy, rom-com vibess, jk’s secretly a little sub who loves praise, praise kinks, making love, jealous!jk, possessive!jk, rough sex, pussy-eating, unprotected sex, creampies, very light dirty talk, oc’s a tease, jk just loves oc, some violence (nothing serious jk punches a guy), oc’s a pillow princess, mainly dom!jk, subby!oc who is a menace, jk is super protective and a good bf, he beats someone up for you, tit play
⋆ WORD COUNT — 14.6 k
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Jeon Jungkook was many things—charismatic, “lover boy”, charming—but the biggest one of all: a pain in the ass (for Yoongi). Jungkook was the type of guy to do whatever he wanted WHEN he wanted.
The kid had a strong backbone, Yoongi will give him that but it was an absolute nightmare dealing with the press for someone like Jungkook. Yoongi can count on his fingers how many times Jungkook’s gotten into heat for his loud ass mouth. Sometimes not all publicity was necessary whether it was good or bad in Yoongi’s opinion (not that anyone’s ever asked).
“Where is he? That little shit–” Yoongi growls behind gritted teeth as he storms through the gym towards the private training room Jungkook usually practiced in.
He slams the door open and locks eyes with his target, “There you are–!”
Jungkook stops in his tracks and turns around in surprise, “Hyung?” He’s confused as fuck because he’s been behaving himself lately, sooo what did he do now? “Yoongi hyung—ow! What the hell was that for?”
“How many times did I tell your ass to keep your little flings under the radar? I told you: if you’re gonna be fooling around with people do it on the down low but no, you just gotta fucking let the world know huh?” Yoongi seethes, literally trembling with rage from where Jungkook stands.
Jungkook makes a confused noise, “But I didn’t–”
“Then, what. The. Fuck. Is this?” Yoongi slaps his phone in Jungkook’s face, on it there’s some tweet with an article linked to it.
Jungkook squints his eyes mumbling under his breath as he reads the tweet out loud, “..Idol l/n y/n caught in a dating scandal with infamous boxer Jeon Jungkook–what’s the big deal though, everyone usually ignores these types of things.”
Yoongi looks like he wants to scream, “Kid you realize you’re a celebrity right?” Nod. “Okay, and she’s a celebrity too right?” Nod. “So why in the FUCK wouldn’t this be a big deal? I mean, it’s not like we’re not talking about the nation’s ‘sweetheart’ here, the country’s fucking pride and joy.” He really needs a fucking smoke right now.
“Hyung it’s just a fucking rumor she probably doesn’t even care or know about it, I don’t see why you’re stressing out. Not like I know her either,” Jungkook carelessly says as he throws a few punches at the bag, “you’re gonna end up bald with how you’re stressing right now.”
Yoongi takes a deep breath, in, out, in, out. “Because, idiot,” emphasis on the idiot, “this shit is getting out of control, you have any idea how many fucking news outlets are talking about this? For fucks sake the entire country is in shambles cause their ‘precious’ y/n is supposedly dating some lowlife boxer, no biggie really it’s not like I haven’t been getting threats either over this little stunt of yours.” He glares.
Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh as he stops in his tracks, “Hyung I didn’t do anything, so fucking what if I posted a pic with my photocard, it’s MY photocard! Don’t her fans do that shit too, so why is it a problem that I do it too?”
“Because people think you’re dating now! They think you’re soft launching her or something!” Yoongi tugs at his hair, “You realize if people find out you fucked with her just to get in her bed they’re gonna lose it and not just on her but you mainly. You want a fucking witch hunt out for you? Because you know damn well they love her more than you.”
“Ouch.” Jungkook grumbles petulantly.
“No, ouch, use your fucking brain think about the damage you’ll take all because you wanted to fuck their little princess.” Yoongi glares.
Jungkook’s almost offended that Yoongi would think of him like that. Sure he had his fair share of groupies and models but Jungkook wasn’t a complete asshole about it! He had feelings too, he’s not sorry that he was fucking casually like any other normal person who was looking to unwind. It also isn’t his fault that they labeled him a playboy.
In the eyes of the public Jungkook was a menace as there were rumors of him knocking models up and cheating on the girls he’s ever gotten spotted with. Everyday he woke up and there was something new that came out whether it was him “dating” or his flings coming out to talk about their one night stands.
Needless to say he didn’t have the best public image.
“Okay let me stop you there, I’m not after her for sex or anything. If you really want to know, I'm actually interested in her. I wanna get to know her some more and take things further y’know?” He huffs and wipes the sweat off his brow with his shirt.
Yoongi scoffs, “Yeah right, I’ll believe it when I see it.” As he finishes his sentence the door opens and Namjoon pops in with Seokjin, the two team members hauling in some duffle bags in tow.
“What’s going on? The hell Yoongi look so red for?” Namjoon huffs as he drops the bag gracelessly, “Jungkook what did you do now?” He clicks his tongue in disappointment, tutting him like a misbehaved child.
Jungkook’s mouth drops open, this traitor! He’s supposed to be on his side, not Yoongi’s. Seokjin interrupts with a loud cackle, “What didn’t he do?” Another traitor! Jungkook can’t believe this, his own hyungs against him.
“Long story short Romeo over here is in a dating scandal—not with just anybody though, fucking l/n y/n. Y’know, the poster child.” Yoongi spits harshly, shooting Jungkook another pissy look while he’s at it.
Namjoon’s mouth drops open in shock, Seokjin actually looks pretty terrified too which is funny because if only he could see the face he’s making right now.
“No way you’re insane for that, shit good luck with the press because they don’t play about their little popstar.” Namjoon manages to utter once the shock passes.
Jungkook glares, “I didn’t do anything! They’re mad I’m showing off my photocard, I bet you that they’re jealous because they don’t have this one.” He huffs and thrusts his phone out to show them his phone case.
“What exactly did you do?” Seokjin laughs.
“Nothing! I posted a mirror pic and I didn’t expect a bunch of crazies to over analyze shit and spot the photocard. Not like it’s MY fault people make up narratives and shit.” Jungkook rolls his eyes and tucks his phone away safely in his pocket, “But you know what, just wait and see.”
“Wait and see what?” Namjoon snorts in amusement.
“Hyung doesn’t believe me but I’m serious about her, I’m gonna ask her out and from there maybe talk and get to know each other. One thing for sure she’s gonna be my girl unless she slaps me in the face and tells me to leave her alone or somethin,” Jungkook grins as he elbows his still pissed off manager.
Seokjin looks at him with a shit-eating grin, “Sure let me know how that ends up going for you.”
Jungkook purses his lips, “You’ll see..”
𓂃 ゚。 ⋆ ⟡
They end up in Miami for a boxing match Jungkook has pending but his opponent ended up coming down with something so it got canceled. Now Jungkook has no clue what to do for an entire week and it doesn’t help that he’s jet lagged, hungry, and tired. Not a good combination.
“Did they say when the match will be back on?” Jungkook mumbles boredly from his spot on the lounge chair in his hotel. He’s slumped over scrolling down his phone looking at random shit on his feed.
“Hard to tell Kook, apparently the guy’s really sick and can barely get outta bed or somethin’. They said it was better to wait it out for a week and see what happens with him.” Yoongi sighs deeply, “Fuck, just our luck too.”
Jungkook nods in agreement, “What do we do now hyung? Do we go back or..?”
Yoongi takes a seat on the opposite side of him with a shrug, “Dunno, do whatever you want since the match is canceled. Me and Joon gotta stay back to talk with the event organizers and shit.”
He goes quiet for a few moments before sitting up, “Oh wait there’s an award show going on right now, they sent me an invite for you but I don’t know if you wanna go or not.”
“Award show?” Jungkook makes a face but what other shit does he have to do? It’s not like he’s got a match anymore anyways, maybe the after party will be cool or something. “I guess, why do they want me there?”
“Appearances for the press—you know, the usual.” Yoongi hums.
Jungkook’s lips are pursed as he looks around deep in thought. DOES he wanna go? It’s not like this would be the first time they’ve asked him to make an appearance but Jungkook doesn’t really like these types of things. Red carpets and interviews are so tedious and time consuming.
Wait—
“Hyung!” He suddenly gasps, “Holy shit—pass me my suit.” He says as he bolts away into the bathroom.
Yoongi looks at him in confusion, “What..kid what the hell are you on?” He snorts, “Don’t tell me you’re excited to go to this thing.” Nonetheless he still takes out Jungkook’s suit for him and lays it on the bed.
“No you don’t understand,” Jungkook cuts off as he splashes his face with water, “y/n is probably gonna be there!”
“y/n—Jungkook really?” Yoongi groans, “I thought you were playing around last time, I didn’t think you were actually serious about it.”
Jungkook holds back his whine, “Hyung you always think I’m playing around, why isn’t anyone taking me seriously about her! I swear I have good intentions.”
“I dunno, maybe cause you have a habit of sleeping with anything that walks and looks pretty to you. Or maybe the fact that you’ve done this before. Should I remind you of that one model from Cancun?” Jungkook pouts, “Or the bartender chick from LA?” His pout deepens, “Or the girl from Paris?”
“Okay I get it!” Jungkook grumbles, “But this time I’m serious hyung, more than I ever been about someone—especially her.” He says with a sigh while changing out of his clothes and into the suit Yoongi laid out for him.
Yoongi sighs deeply, “Look all I’m saying is to be careful how you go about this, it’s a lot at stake right now not just because of you being involved with her but the fact that the public has their opinions about you already as it is.”
Jungkook appreciates the sentiment but he doesn’t need anyone to approve or disagree about his feelings. The public didn’t deserve any explanations over what Jungkook chooses to do with his life, he’s here to fight and that’s it. Not to be anyone’s marionette or dress-up doll.
“I know hyung, thanks.” He smiles back and slips his blazer on, “I’ll text you later on and tell you what happens.” Yoongi doesn’t reply verbally rather with a low grunt, “See ya.” Jungkook says with a final grin and heads out of the room down to the main lobby and into a car Yoongi had waiting for him.
On the way to the venue he checks out the award show on Instagram, he sees a lot of people he recognizes and a few new faces. His eyes scan over the page eagerly in hopes of seeing you on there. Are you performing tonight? Were you already there on the red carpet? Oh he bets you look absolutely divine tonight (you always do).
“Yes!” He says a bit too loudly startling his driver in the process as he sheepishly apologizes.
Jungnkook finally comes across a post about you and he reads over the caption with an excited hum, biting his lip when he sees that you are performing after all. He’s getting a mean adrenaline rush right now like the ones he usually gets before his matches. Just thinking about how he’s gonna get to meet you tonight is getting him all worked up. He wonders if you’ll even give him the time of day.
Only one way to find out.
.
“Jeon over here!”
“Jeon, look here!”
“Jeon, is it true you and y/n are dating?” Jungkook makes a point to ignore this and act like he didn’t hear it even though he’s screaming on the inside.
The red carpet’s full of singers and models, the fans are screaming and reporters keep getting in his damn way as he tries to make his way through the crowd. Of course he stops for a picture or two with a fan, poses for the paparazzi too but he’s not concerned with them right now. He knows he must look a little lost with the way he keeps looking around like he’s trying to find something (yeah, you).
Jungkook almost frowns like a child who didn’t get their way once he sees you’re not anywhere in sight. You probably already headed inside which sucks cause he really wanted to see you beforehand since it was probably arranged seating in there. At this rate he won’t be able to even say hi–
“Oh shit, my bad.” Jungkook says when he bumps into someone behind him. He turns around to apologize properly when his heart fucking stops. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod—it’s you.
You look up at him with those dreamy eyes of yours, face scrunched up cutely (your lips pouty) in confusion as you tilt your head up (UP!) to look at him, “Um, you’re stepping on my dress.” Even your voice is so prettyyy.
“Sorry my fault,” Jungkook steps back and kneels down to fix the rumpled state he left it in, vaguely aware of the fast flashing (the paparazzi must be eating this up), “lemme make it up to you though.” He says once he comes back up.
You tilt your head, “And how would you do that?”
“I’ll buy you a new dress.” Jungkook’s dead serious too, if you asked him to buy you a whole house he’d do it in a heartbeat. Take everything at this point—have it.
“And who said I want you to buy me things?” You muse softly.
Jungkook chuckles softly and leans down to talk in your ear because the crowd’s getting louder and it’s hard to talk to you, “Don’t be like that, if you let me take you out I’ll show you all the things I can buy you.” He murmurs low, voice husky.
You tilt your head to look at him, eyes dropping down to his lips and then back up as a coy smile plays at your soft lips, “You’re funny.” You pat his cheek with a soft manicured hand and walk away.
His heart nearly skips a damn beat when you do that. Oh he swears he can still feel your soft hand sliding over his cheek when you walked away from him like the little tease you were. He doesn’t know how long he stands there until he gets moving, a stupid grin on his face the entire time as he replays the moment over and over again in his head.
Jungkook’s not gonna lie, this little cat and mouse game that just started has him eager for more. He’s so getting your number by the end of the night, call him delusional but he swears you’re digging him too with the way you checked him out just now.
He spends the entire night throwing a few sneaky glances your way, hell when you got on stage to perform he nearly folded then and there. Everything about it—sultry gaze, soft husky voice, and sensual body rolls—was perfect. Jungkook don’t even care that people are watching him ogle you in 4K, he doesn't bother to hide the fact that he likes what he’s seeing right now.
To make things worse you pass by his seat and shoot him a dazzling little smile, waving your fingers coyly at him which makes the people go wild. Oh he’s in love. Jungkook makes a point in looking for you afterwards at the afterparty. You’re changed out of your outfit from earlier, now in a pretty babydoll and your little Prada loafers.
When he makes eye contact you shoot him a smile, “Thought I’d wear something you can’t step on again.”
Jungkook snorted softly, “I already told you, I dunno why you’re being stubborn, quit playing and let me take you out already.” He says smoothly and wraps his arm around your waist, surprised that you don’t push him off or anything.
You look him up and down with a soft hum, “Mmmm I’m kinda in the mood for some paella.”
“Then let’s go.” Jungkook’s ready, he will literally drop everything to get you some paella.
“Not from here though, I hear it’s way better in Spain.” You wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down so he’s eye level with you, “So unless you’re willing to take me to Spain, I’m not going anywhere.”
Jungkook licks his lips, “Fuck it, let’s go.” He starts leading you away, peeping the way you look surprised, “What?” He laughs.
“You’re serious, right now?” Once you recover from the initial shock you smile at him with a quiet giggle, “You’re crazy.”
Oh he just adores that cute eye-smile of yours, “Let’s get you some paella yeah?”
It’s a nine hour flight you both impulsively leave on with no bags, didn’t even tell your managers, and only your phones and wallets. No one questions when Jeon Jungkook walks through first class hand in hand with you trailing close by, you’re even wearing his blazer over your shoulders because you complained about how chilly it was.
Jungkook’s smiling like an idiot the entire time he’s sitting with you in the first class cabin. You don’t seem to mind how touchy he is so he keeps an arm over your shoulder so you’re pressed close to his side. He nearly screams when you lay your head on his shoulder and doze off into a peaceful slumber.
You left Miami around one in the morning and got to Madrid at nine with Jungkook booking you two a room at the infamous Four Seasons hotel. You knock out with him for a few more hours until you’re complaining about your paella.
“Hurry up, I'm starving and you promised me my paella.” You grumble and poke at his face.
“Yeah, yeah I’m awake.” Jungkook murmurs calmly as he rolls out of the bed to make himself presentable.
Jungkook feels like he’s in a dream right now, god this better not be because the sight of you looking so happy in front of him while eating your beloved paella is one for the books. Your little brunch date turns into a shopping date because you complain you don’t wanna be wearing clothes from yesterday since the two of you decided to stay in Spain for the weekend.
He has a goofy smile on his face as he swipes, taps, and inserts his black card at different stores you drag him to. He lets you spend his money how you want to, relishing in the way the BVLGARI store worker’s eyes nearly bulge out of their head when Jungkook pays for a forty-eight thousand wrist watch, all for you.
“Doesn’t it look pretty?” You grin softly while holding your wrist out to him.
Jungkook gently takes your hand in his and admires the watch, “Perfect, really suits you.” He grins softly as he thanks the employees and heads out with you to another store to see what you find.
By the time Sunday comes Jungkook’s spent well over one-hundred grand on you but does he care? No, not really because he did say he’d show you all the things he’d buy you. Jungkook doesn’t wanna go back to Miami but Yoongi’s bitching at him to go back because apparently his opponent got better and the match was back on and set for Tuesday the earliest.
“Let me make you mine already.” He finds himself mumbling low in your ear as he tugs you into a loose hug, not caring that you two were standing in the middle of the airport about to board different flights back (of course he pays for your first class ticket home).
You look up at him with coy eyes and a soft little smile on your glossy lips, god he just wants to kiss the fuck out of you but he doesn’t because you haven’t give him the okay for anything past non-sexual intimacy which he’s fine with because he does wanna take time to get to know you.
His breath hitches when your finger comes up to trace over his lips gently, “Cute.” You don’t say anything else and walk away after the intercom announces your flight. You leave him standing there in the middle of the airport, dreamier than ever but sadly it’s cut short by his phone ringing.
“Where the hell are you?” Yoongi growls.
“Calm down hyung, I’m boarding in a few minutes.” Jungkook sighs as he rolls his eyes, “I got so much shit to tell you.” He smirks to himself and begins walking.
𓂃 ゚。 ⋆ ⟡
Sometime into the next week when Jungkook lands back in Korea he asks for your number through Instagram. He’s kinda surprised you gave it to him instead of dodging him like before, nonetheless he’s happy and giddy about it. He quite literally looks like a schoolgirl kicking her feet in bed texting her crush, that’s how he feels like right now.
You’re a quick texter which he likes and you don’t seem to mind him spamming so that’s even better. Jungkook spends his week giggling over dumb shit (it’s not) you say which has Seokjin making fun of him for it, which speaking of them they still couldn’t believe Jungkook pulled you.
“No way let me see.” Seokjin had demanded, “You’re lying, she would never, she looks like she has standards.” Jungkook can’t tell if he’s jealous or something, maybe he’s a secret stan too who knows.
Jungkook long established he was down bad for you ages ago but this just took the cake, a whole new level of simping. It starts when Jungkook decides to post a training video of him boxing/training, he goes viral and trends for a week because in the background he’s playing one of your songs. He’s got a shit ton of people calling him a “girly pop” or “cunty boxer” but most tell him he knows what’s up.
He doesn’t know but by him doing that it opens a new door to your developing relationship because you start asking him to do things for you. It starts with you telling him to change his profile picture with a pic from your latest comeback (he gets made fun of by your fans but he doesn’t care).
Then you make him tweet: “stream y/n for clear skin” while promoting your music video through him (again he’s a laughing stock). The nail in the coffin is when you prettily request him to wear a shirt from your merch collection after one of his boxing matches.
“Oh my god.” Yoongi says with his mouth dropped open in shock as Jungkook steps out of the backroom wearing a baby pink t-shirt with your face all over it, the cameras flash like crazy and reporters yell out a slew of different questions.
Jungkook runs around carefree in his little pink shirt posing for the cameras and grinning like an idiot because he knows you’re probably at home watching this. Yoongi asks him why he does these things and Jungkook just shrugs, he likes the praise you give him for doing everything you ask him to. He knows it’s light-hearted fun and you’d never do anything to humiliate him intentionally, if you’re happy then that’s all that matters.
jk: did u see me tonight?
y/n <3: yess lol can’t believe you actually did itttt
you looked super cute too, you should wear more shirts with my face on them.
jk: mayyybeeee you can come to one of my matches? don’t u think i earned it?
y/n <3: when is it?
Jungkook damn nearly yells out in excitement, he’s literally shaking as he types out a fast response like you’re about to change your mind or something. He sends you the time and day for it, promising front row seats so you’ll have a good view as he kicks this guy’s ass. You have him cheesing when you say this is going to be your first boxing match too, he’s so excited now.
“Calm down kid you’re gonna give me a headache with all that tapping.” Yoongi grunts as he slaps his hand against Jungkook’s knee, “I don’t know why you’re nervous, she already told you she’s here.”
“Because hyung! This is a big deal to me, she’s here at one of my matches and she’s gonna get a front row view of the fight. Now I have to win this, I have to make it worth her time.” Jungkook grumbles with a pout.
Somewhere off to the side he hears Namjoon snort at him, “She’s really got you wrapped around her finger don’t she?” He says while hauling in a cooler with water bottles.
Jungkook doesn’t even refute that statement, he barely bothers to acknowledge him because he’s reading over the texts you’re sending him. “Hyung she said yes to coming to the after party!” He grins cheerfully.
“Good now get your head out of your ass and focus on what I’m about to say. You have less than five minutes before you’re up in that ring and I need your head in the game.” Yoongi says sternly as he plucks Jungkook’s phone out of his hand, “You remember what I said about pacing yourself?”
Jungkook sits there listening as Yoongi goes into trainer mode, he knows his hyung means no harm and just wants him to win this so Jungkook can’t really be mad at him. He must have zoned out because Yoongi brings him back with a sharp smack to his arm, “Are you listening to me?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook smiles as he stands up, “let’s do this.”
“Get out there and make me proud.”
The entire atmosphere outside has Jungkook’s adrenaline kicking in already. He hears the crowd chanting his name, the loud booming music, and the chatter from the on-goers. He mentally psyches himself, lightly bouncing on his feet as he closes his eyes and mumbles a small prayer. Once he hears his name echo loudly and the screams he steps out with his gloves in the air.
This is what he lives for—the crowds, the music, and the atmosphere. He looks around the arena with a grin as they chant his name over and over again, stopping here and there to pose with fans. Jungkook’s not entirely focused on them though, his eyes wander through the front row looking for you and when his gaze finally lands on you he can’t help the big smile he sports.
You look so pretty with your MIUMIU glasses over your head. You’ve got on a plain baby white tee under your black leather jacket, some low rise jeans and your loafers. Right now you’re the center of attention in your section with people taking pics of you from every direction and some asking for an autograph. You even brought your little friend (Jeon Soyeon?) along.
As he passes by Jungkook shoots you a wink to which you wave back with a flirty little smile. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes skim over his bare chest and the desire begins fueling him with more determination to win. Sure he likes winning because who doesn’t? But now he has more reason to win, he has to impress his future girl.
Jungkook gets pulled up on stage with his heart drumming against his ribcage, he’s so ready for this. The ref calls out both of them and soon enough after slipping his mouth guard and gloves on he rises to his feet and stalks forward slowly with a glint in his eye.
“I want a clean fight okay,” the ref says to both as Jungkook nods, “alright, to your corners.” He sends them both away, the announcer saying some shit Jungkook doesn’t really concern himself with.
Jungkook makes eye contact with you one last time, the two of you mutually nodding before the sound of a bell has Jungkook immediately shifting his focus. He’s light on his feet and takes his time watching with diligent eyes as his opponent circles around him, waiting to get the hit on him but Jungkook’s faster.
The guy swings but Jungkook easily dodges, another swing and Jungkook manages to catch him off guard with a sucker punch to the jaw sending the guy reeling backwards. Jungkook feels like he had enough time to warm-up, he doesn’t play around anymore and launches himself towards his opponent with determination.
Punch after punch and round after round ends with Jungkook delivering one final blow, easily sealing this poor guy’s fate as the guy just lets go and falls to the ground. The referee jumps in, counting down from ten as Jungkook watches with anticipation and adrenaline, ready to go again if this guy gets up. He sees Yoongi sitting with clenched fists and a hopeful look in his eye, and then he sees you.
You’re looking at Jungkook with worry, eyebrows furrowed and doe eyes filled with concern. He manages a bloody smile despite the fucking world of pain he’s in right now (he’s not looking forward to the ice bath after this). He swears the world around him blurs until he finally hears the bell and the announcer’s voice echoing through the arena.
“Knockout!”
Jungkook sags in relief as he hears cheers and yells all around. The paparazzi flash him with their cameras as the crowd loses it, Jungkook turns in time to see Yoongi crawling into the ring and bringing him in for a tight hug, “You fuckin’ did it kid,” he laughs in disbelief as he has Jungkook spit his bloody mouthguard out.
“Fuck hyung, water.” Jungkook rasps out as Yoongi yells for Namjoon to come over.
“You good?” Yoongi asks, “Look at me kid, you okay?” He pats his cheek as Jungkook nods tiredly given that the adrenaline rush was now gone, leaving him bruised and exhausted.
Namjoon comes over with water as Jungkook takes sips, spitting it out into a bucket Yoongi holds out for him to rinse his mouth out. The referee comes over to announce Jungkook as the winner as he stands there barely holding on from pain. He makes eye contact with you again, smiling through the exhaustion despite feeling pretty shitty right now. He slowly makes his way over as you simultaneously rise from your chair to meet him halfway.
“So, what do you think?” Jungkook smirks as he crouches down and hops out of the ring.
You pout cutely with a frown, “You’re hurt.” You softly murmur as your delicate hand comes up to cup his face, “I’m happy for you though, you did really amazing.” You smile.
Jungkook feels his heart swell with happiness hearing that, he goes to wrap his arm around your shoulder but stops in pain. He forgot about this part as a low groan slips from his lips, “Shit he got me pretty good.”
“Don’t overexert yourself,” you help him wrap an arm around you, “gotta be careful, you took some pretty hard hits in there.”
Jungkook laughs tiredly as he lays his head on top of yours while you walk together to the back, “Shoulda seen the other guy.” He says low, ignoring the pointed glare you shoot at him, “Yeah, yeah, I’m just messing with you.”
You grumble something under your breath but he doesn’t catch it, he’s riding off on the high from winning and being so close to you. He likes this and wouldn’t mind having you in his life more after this as he’s long made peace with the idea of you being in his future. All he can think about at this moment is you, you, you.
.
“Say you can't sleep, baby, I know that's that me, espresso,”
Jungkook’s laughing and talking with his friends, he’s got you wrapped up in his arms pressed against his chest as he nurses a whiskey in his other hand. You play with one of his necklaces and tune out his conversation which he doesn’t notice until he turns to you and sees how sad you look, “What’s wrong?”
You look up at him and shake your head, “Just thinking.”
“About?” He gently prods, shifting his entire attention to you.
“You didn’t look so good earlier..how do you do it? I mean, I get you trained for this but I dunno, kinda scared me seeing you all beat up.” You softly murmur, “It’s just a thought of mine, I don’t mean to offend you or anything.”
Jungkook softens at that, he thinks it’s adorable you’re worrying about him like that. Almost feels like.. “Let’s dance?” He asks when a favorite song of his comes on, “C’mon, it’ll take your mind off things.” He grins.
You smile at him softly and follow him to the dancefloor, wrapping your arms around his neck as he holds you by the hips with gentle hands. He hums along to the song playing in the background with his dark eyes trained on yours. You look so beautiful under the dark lights and he can’t help but lean in.
“You’re super pretty y’know that?” Jungkook softly hums as he presses his forehead against yours.
You softly laugh, “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Mmm did I mention I really like your lips?” His lip curls in a smirk, “Love how soft and plump they look, ‘specially when you wear lip gloss..” He slowly trails off as his lips hover over your own, “Can I kiss you?”
The way your eyes light up, crinkling with joy as you eagerly nod. Jungkook presses his lips to yours in a gentle manner, it’s sweet and slow, just like how he likes it. Your arms tighten around his neck and you tug him further down until he's towering over your figure, blocking you from everyone’s view.
Feels like everything’s complete now and Jungkook’s never felt happier than ever.
He slowly pulls off from the kiss as he stares down at you suddenly feeling shy, “Can I, um, maybe drive you home? Just to make sure you get home safe ‘n stuff. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, just thought I’d ask.”
“Yeah, I’d like that.” You gently reply.
A slow smile spreads over his lips and he nods, “Let’s go then.” He guides you out of the party and into his sleek black car that’s parked out in the front.
The car ride’s quiet and peaceful, he has the windows rolled down as the fresh breeze brushes over the two of you. Jungkook wishes the car ride lasted a little longer but it’s late (two in the morning actually) and he knows you’re tired. He makes a mental note to take you out on a drive next time you guys meet up.
“We’re here baby.” He murmurs softly, gently waking you from your sleep.
“Hm?” You sleepily blink and look around, “Damn, I’m more tired than I thought.” You smile tiredly while stretching your arms out.
Jungkook chuckles, “Don’t worry I got you.” He steps out and rounds the car, opening your door for you and helping you out, “Want me to carry you?” He teases.
You shoot him a sleepy pout and shake your head, “I’m good, maybe next time though.” You breathily chuckle.
“There’s a next time?” He teases.
You toss him a knowing look, stopping in front of the building door, “Good night, or morning I dunno I’m tired.” You spin around and lean over to smooch his cheek gently, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You softly murmur.
Jungkook’s completely entranced by you as he nods slowly, “Night.”
“Morning.” You teasingly correct him as you make your way inside.
Jungkook doesn’t leave until he sees you hop into the elevator, and even then you still wave at him before disappearing inside. Once you’re gone Jungkook lets out a deep sigh as he leans back on his car, what a night.
𓂃 ゚。 ⋆
A few weeks pass and it’s nothing but bliss for Jungkook. Seeing that he has no matches lined up or anything he decides to hang out with you nearly everyday whether it be you and him going out for ice cream dates or Jungkook just taking you out for evening drives out of the city.
He’s on cloud nine right now—he’s got the girl of his dreams, his payout from the last match was pretty big, and everything’s going right for him. Sure you haven’t sat down to actually clarify what you two are but Jungkook knows you feel the same way about him. Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing with the way things are right now, the you’re mine and I’m yours is left unsaid but it’s there.
You’ve both been hard launching each other on your socials for the past few weeks anyways. By now people knew there was something up with you and him, given that Jungkook wasn’t exactly discreet when he posted on his stories with you in them. Jungkook knows you’ve been doing the same thing too so by now the media kinda labeled the relationship.
Will he say anything? Probably not. Does he care? Nope. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation, he just wanted to be able to date you in peace.
Sometime in the week though you send him a message asking him if he wants to come with you as your plus one to some award show taking place in Hong Kong. He says yes of course duh, why the hell would he say otherwise?
He posts a pic with you in the private plane before calling it quits and ignoring his mentions/comments for the rest of the day. Today’s your big day and while you’re not performing he wants to put his entire focus into being there for you.
“How do I look?” He hears you say as he’s getting ready.
You’re dressed to the nines styled in vintage Chanel and Jungkook had a suit tailored to match your aesthetic for the evening. He knows you both are gonna look so good tonight, no doubt you’ll blow anyone away with your unwavering beauty too. “You look amazing.” He says as he stands behind you.
Your eyes flick up in amusement, “That’s all?”
Jungkook lays his chin over your shoulder and grins softly, “Breathtaking, beautiful, ethereal, stunning—” You cut him off with an embarrassed laugh as you swat at his hands.
“Okay, okay, I get it.” You turn around and play with the buttons to his shirt, “You look really good too.”
“That’s all?” He grins back.
“Don’t push it, you make the compliments here.” You smirk and lay a sweet kiss over his lips, to which he happily and eagerly reciprocates.
He might have gotten a little carried away with it because he’s pushing you against the sink counter and kissing you stupid like he’s been doing these days. A soft muffled groan leaves him as he circles his hands over your hips and uses his grip to pull you into him until your lower pelvis is pressing against his own, dangerously close to his friend down there.
“Jungkook–” You sigh, “We’re gonna be late.” You say in-between his eager kisses.
“Don’t care, let me kiss you stupid.” Jungkook replies as he closes the distance between you two again, moving his lips passionately against yours.
You let out a sweet little moan as your fingers card through his hair, he doesn’t even care if you mess it up either. Looks are superficial and at the end of the day regardless of how people see him they’ll never know him or you and Jungkook’s okay with that.
Suddenly the sound of a knock interrupts the two of you and you pull away with a breathless sigh, “Yeah?” You call out.
“The car’s here and traffic’s looking pretty bad so it might be good if we leave right now. We got thirty minutes to get there since the red carpet’s already started.” Your manager says through the door.
You look at Jungkook with a soft smile as you lean up to smooch his lips, “We’ll meet you down there.”
No one expects you to come out hand in hand with Jungkook and he relishes in their shocked faces/reactions. He likes the thrill and can’t help but pull you closer by the waist with his arm tucked tightly around you. They yell and beg for pictures as you walk on by with him, ignoring their weird comments or stupid questions with no meaning.
“You wanna head inside baby?” He leans down to whisper in your ear after a few rounds of interviews and photos with the paps.
“Yeah I’m getting bored.” You hide your shoulder in his shoulder and follow as he guides you towards the venue with a hand splayed protectively over the small of your back.
He can tell you’re nervous about tonight with the way you sit with your hand tightly wrapped in his. You’re currently nominated for two major categories with one of them being album of the year. He’d be shitting himself too if he was going up against other talented singers. You’re gonna win though, you have to and if you don’t he’ll fight them to recount the votes.
“Easy baby,” he whispers low, “you got this okay?”
“I know but what if I lose?” You purse your lips, “I did really well this year so I’m hoping maybe that I do win.” Jungkook doesn’t like how sad and worried you look right now.
“If you don’t win I’ll buy the fucking thing.” Jungkook snorts, “No one had the highest record sales and streams like you did baby, you basically have this in the bag and everyone knows it.”
You huff out a laugh and look at him in disbelief, “Jungkook you can buy me all the things you want but you’re not buying me an award. Don’t be ludicrous.”
He shrugs carelessly, “I won’t if they just give it to you.” He says seriously as he leans over to kiss your cheek, “I believe in you no matter what.” You look at him with a precious smile and turn your attention back to the show.
Performance after performance passes until soon they’re announcing the winner for album of the year. You didn’t win the other category but Jungkook knows for sure you’ll win the next one. He can feel you nervously bouncing your knee and gripping his hand extra tight while the presenter takes their sweet time opening the envelope.
“And the award goes to,” pause, “y/n!” The crowd erupts into loud screams and cheers, hell Jungkook yells out as he looks at you with glee and helps you stand up.
“You won baby!” Jungkook hugs you tightly as he sways side to side, “So fuckin’ proud of you.”
You happily laugh and bury your face in his neck, “I was so scared, oh my god.” You accept his hand as he helps you step up on stage so you could get your award. He stands back filled with pride as he watches you stride with confidence towards the main stage, walking past all these other people he could care less about.
After the show Jungkook’s surprised you choose to go back to the hotel instead of the afterparty some other singer invites you guys to. He doesn’t protest because he’s been dying to get away from all these people all night (you reprimanded him for suggesting that you guys leave right after you get your win). He walks hand in hand with you, smug as fuck because his girl bagged album of the year, just like he knew you would.
“Smile,” Jungkook holds his phone up, the flash going off as he hears you complain about not being ready, “you look fine, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snorts and shows you the picture he took.
You shoot him a pouty frown and take his phone, “Delete it I look bad,” you huff, “you better take a better one.”
“Whatever you say princess.” Jungkook takes a series of photos for your Instagram and his, you look so pretty in each one he takes, it’s disgusting how much he’s obsessing over them, “Damn you look sexy.”
“I always do, thank you very much.” You huff and sit back in your seat, enjoying the rest of the ride back.
Jungkook’s immediately on you when the two of you get to the hotel. He’s been wanting to pick up where you two left off earlier before your manager interrupted. If it was up to him you two wouldn’t have even gone to the damn show, he’s been dying to get you out of the dress the minute he saw you in it.
“Jungkook wait–mmph,” you’re cut off as he slips his lips over yours, his hands coming up to cup your face as he swallows your lips in a passionate-hungry kiss.
“Can’t,” Jungkook whispers, “been waiting all night baby.” He reaches behind you to push the door open, kicking it open all the way as he tugs you close and walks you backwards into the room.
“Moment I laid eyes on you I was gone, knew I had to have you.” Jungkook whispers as he leans down to bury his face in your shoulder and neck leaving a flurry of hot kisses all over, “Wanted to rip this shit off you.” He growls softly.
You whined in protest, body falling backwards when the back of your knees hit the lush bed, “Not my dress–”
“I’ll buy another—hundreds baby, don’t you know who your man is?” Jungkook smirks as he climbs over you, “Can I take it off you baby?” He knows he’s being a bit too eager right now, so naturally he wants to make sure you’re both on the same page.
“Yeah.” You softly breathe out, “I want you to take it off,” you trail off looking at him with those siren eyes, “make me yours.” You say as you let the strap of the dress slip off your shoulder invitingly.
Jungkook swallows hard, hands itching and trembling with excitement as he reaches up to pull the other strap, “You already are.” He muses.
“All the way,” you intertwine your hand with his with a precious little smile on your face, “want everyone to know who my man is.”
Fuck. Jungkook bites down on his lip and nods, “You want them to see my marks, want everyone to know who’s fucking you good?” He purrs and leans down to hover over you, lips against lips.
You nod with a cute ‘mmhm’, “I want it all, you promised you’d give it to me.” You softly pout, “Or was that a lie?”
“Fuck no, take it baby, ‘s all yours.” Jungkook hurriedly unbuttons his dress shirt, hastily throwing his belt off and peeling his slacks off, “Gonna give you exactly what you need till you can’t take it.” He says as he reaches for the zipper to the dress.
He all but rips the thing off of you and tosses it to the corner of the room (mind you it’s worth over twenty thousand). It’s the first time seeing you like this under him and he wants to make it special for you, a night you’ll never forget.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful baby.” He comments as he leans down to leave a trail of kisses along your chest and tummy,slowly slipping down the bed as he inches towards your panty covered pussy.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, been thinking about all the ways I could have you,” he whispers and lays a kiss over your damp folds, “I didn’t know if I wanted to lay you on my bed or bend you over the car—you make it so hard to control myself, you have no idea.”
He sees the little tremor that passes over you when he says this. Your eyes are filled with want and need but like the stubborn little thing you are, you don’t say anything. Jungkook can’t have that either, he wants—no needs—to hear your sweet little voice beg for him.
“What’s the matter baby? You need something?” Jungkook softly croons as he peppers soft kisses against your inner thighs.
You bite on your lip and nod, “Need you.”
“But you already have me?” He grins, he can see the frustration bubbling up on your face.
“Here,” you softly breathe and reach down to tug your panties upwards, the material digs into your cunt giving him a perfect outline of it, “won’t you give it to me?” Your voice pulls him in like a siren singing to a sailor, he’s so entranced by it he almost feels like he’s gonna drool right now.
Jungkook wastes no time in yanking the damp materials down your thighs, not bothering to slide them completely off as he lifts your legs up. They’re pressed together with your soft pussy lips pressed together for him, tempting him with a glob of shiny slick running down your soft asscheeks.
“Fuck,” Jungkook growls as he leans in to smother his face with your cunt, tongue slipping through your drenched dewy folds to lap up the globs of slick.
You kick your feet in the air with a tiny whine, hips wiggling in an attempt to get him on your clit. He laps at you messily, circling the tip of his tongue over your throbbing bud that’s squished between your folds. The moan you let out sends shivers down his spine and he’s eager to hear more.
“So fucking good,” he pants, “jus’ like I imagined pretty baby.” He slurs out, pussy drunk already.
He can feel you reaching down to tug your panties all the way off but he can’t be bothered with stopping, not when your cunt’s gushing for him. Jungkook licks with vigor, swiping over and over against your tender clit. Your cunt opens up beautifully with a low squelch and your thighs begin trembling under his strong hold.
It gets harder with each passing second to contain himself, his cock feels like it’s literally about to burst. He pulls away from you and lets your shaky legs fall back as he tears your panties off completely.
“Gonna fuck you so good baby,” he climbs over you and reaches down to pull his heavy cock out, “can’t wait anymore.”
Your legs easily fall apart for him and make room as he shuffles closer between them. Jungkook sees the way your eyes go dark when they land below between his legs where his cock hangs heavy, swollen at the tip with beady trails of precum oozing from the head. You lick your lips and reach down to grip him in your soft hand, tentatively squeezing and stroking as if you were feeling him up.
“Like it baby? Gonna have my fat cock fill this little pussy up?” Jungkook has a sleazy grin splayed over his lips as he watches you, “Hm?”
“Yeah, ‘m not gonna let you cum anywhere but inside,” you deviously smile back like the nasty little minx you are, “till it’s dripping.”
He groans at the thought of that and kicks his hips forward, “Lemme in baby,” he slurs out, “slip it right in for me, there you go.” He purrs when he feels the head slide over your messy pussy, smearing your slick and his precum all over your cunt before you’re guiding him towards your winking sopping hole.
You bite down on your lip when the tip catches against your rim, it pops inside feeling you inch for inch slowly—cockhead spreading you open until he’s fully seated in your tight cunt. He can’t help but bite his lip with the way you’re squeezing him so tight—so snug and warm.
“So nice ‘n warm for me,” he hoarsely says as he rubs his hands along your sides, gently squeezing at your hips as he pulls you closer until your pelvis is smacked tight against his own.
You let out the most sinful fucking moan ever when his cock slides deeper. Back arching and toes curling—he just loves how beautiful you look spread out under him with your pretty pussy snug against his cock. You release a stuttered moan as you reach for his hands and squeeze tightly.
“Hurts a little,” you say through gritted teeth, “why the fuck are you so fucking big?”
Jungkook nearly laughs at that because he doesn’t think he’s ever heard that many curse words leave your mouth before. “You want me to pull out?”
“No don’t you dare,” you glare, “took me a minute to get this thing in and you want me to do it all over again?”
Jungkook looks back down with a low whistle, “Little pussy looks like it’s struggling to keep me all in baby, you sure you can handle it?” He teases as he reaches down to flick his thumb over your swollen clit.
Your hips jump and you whine out for him, “Stop playing around Jungkook,” you turn to hide your face in the soft sheets, “you know I can.” You mumble softly, eyes half-lidded with pleasure.
Jungkook bites down on his lip and rolls his hips slowly, “I know, you were made for this dick.” He smirks and lazily flicks his thumb pairing it with his slow but deep thrusts.
Your moans come out soft and breathy, everytime he backstrokes there’s a light sheen of slick covering his cock from the base near his pelvis. Your cunt makes these adorable little squelching noises as he pushes back in, balls lightly pressing against your taint when he buries himself back in. Occasionally he stops for a few seconds before he resumes his lazy pace.
He never imagined it’d feel this good with you, something about the way your little pussy refuses to let go for even a moment—squeezing him so tight it’s almost impossible to move. His own noises come out soft and husky, he can’t help the moans and soft sighs he lets out from the hot pleasure coiling in his stomach.
“Baby,” he gasps as he leans forward to hover over you with hands on either side of you, “this good?” He asks as he steadily increases the pace in his thrusts, hips smacking wetly against your ass and balls swinging now.
You nod eagerly, “More than good—mm, jus’ like that,” you sound blissed out, gaze half-lidded and dreamy as you stare up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.
“Like that?” He groans, “Or like this?” Suddenly Jungkook snaps his hips up, a loud smack filling the room alongside a warbled cry of his name, “Oh you like that, don’t you? Baby likes it rough?” He purrs.
The slide’s fucking nasty with a mix of precum and your slick, he feels it slide down your taint where his balls slap repeatedly. The noise is filthy and sends pleasant tremors down his spine, “Oh, fuck,” he groans softly, “doing so good for me.”
Jungkook begins moving earnestly now, slamming his cock in and out of your bruised and battered cunt. Slick spills everywhere—the sheets, your inner thighs, his pelvis—it’s like music to his fucking ears right now. He can’t resist and leans down to smother your lips with his, swallowing every little cry and moan you let out.
Your arms come up to wrap around his neck as you hold on tightly, he reaches down to wrap a leg around his waist as he manages to slide in deeper with the tip brushing over your g-spot. You let out a loud cry into his mouth and bury your fingers in his hair, your thigh starts trembling again only this time more intense than before.
“You gonna cum for me baby?” He pulls away with a moan, “C’mon, be a good girl and make it messy.” He purrs against your lips while watching your expressions closely.
You stare into his eyes with unshed tears as more whimpers and whines escape, “So close,” you manage to wrap another shaky leg around him, “please, please, ‘m so close.” You whine out as your legs cross behind him on his back.
Jungkook doesn’t wanna disappoint or hold out any longer as he manages to stick a hand down between you to roll your clit between his fingers, “Cum for me, give it to me baby.” He growls softly as he plows into your tender and sore cunt.
The squelching gets louder and your moans turn into weak whimpers as you lie there and take it. His cock stirs at the sight of you nearing your end, he decides to give you a little extra push as he meanly pinches your clit. This causes you to cry out and go stiff under him, body shaking like a leaf as you gush around his cock.
“Jungkook,” you gasp repeatedly as your eyes flutter shut, face pinched in pleasure and overstimulation, “so good.” You slur out.
Jungkook lets your tender clit go and focuses on his own pleasure now that he’s got your orgasm out of the way. He grunts quietly and buries his face against your soft tits, mouthing at your sore stiff nipples. You squeeze around him tighter and tighter until the coil in his stomach snaps and he lets out a long moan of your name.
“Fuck..” Jungkook whispers breathlessly as he presses your pelvises close together, burying his cock balls deep till every last drop’s inside your battered pussy.
You moan quietly and let your legs fall from his hips, limbs feeling like jelly as you lay there panting softly. Jungkook rests his forehead against your tit and sighs deeply, “Are you okay love?” He asks softly.
“Yeah, jus’ really tired.” You whisper hoarsely and close your eyes, “Fuck, no offense but I feel really gross right now. Start a bath for me, pretty please?” You softly ask with a lip jutted out in a pout.
Jungkook of course can’t say no, “Course,” he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and lifts himself off of you, “I’ll be back.”
𓂃 ゚。 ⋆
Your company’s the first to make a statement confirming what everybody already knew, and then Yoongi followed shortly after. If Jungkook had thought it was bad before, people went ape shit now that it’s been officially confirmed by you two.
Before, they put all the heat on Jungkook because it was easier to blame him for it given the public’s opinion about him. It was easier to blame him because why not? He was some low-life boxer in their eyes. But then the attention shifted and people started targeting their hate towards you which pissed Jungkook off to no end.
Why the fuck was everyone so invested in what you did and didn’t do? Why was it that they felt entitled to dictate who you date and don’t date? Jungkook really needed these people to get jobs or mind their business because clearly they had no life outside of hating on a stranger for finding their own happiness.
He saw those vicious comments people left all over your posts and he fucking hated that he couldn’t do shit to stop them from coming back, pissed him off even more because his girlfriend didn’t deserve this. You deserved the world and more, not this shit.
So, Jungkook did the next best thing he could think of. He started taking names and screenshotting profiles before turning them over to a attorney he hired, if he couldn’t beat these stupid fuckers himself he’d let them have it with his private team. He made headlines after people started noticing that he was suing the people opening their big ass mouths.
“Baby, it’s okay really.” You softly complain, “You don’t have to waste your time with these weird people, I’m sure they’ll get over themselves if we ignore them.”
Jungkook shakes his head, “No, I’m sorry baby but I can’t sit there and watch these fuckers call you degrading names and demand shit like they know you—seriously who the fuck do these people think they are?” He growls under his breath as he paces back and forth, “And that’s not even the gist of it, these idiots are lucky I don’t catch them out in public because I’ll beat the fuck out of them.”
Out of the corner of his eye he sees you curl up on the sofa with a sad smile, “I know, but you can’t go around beating up millions of people for leaving a hate comment. It’s normal, this happens all the time I learned to live with it.” You’re trying to sound sure of yourself but he doesn’t buy it.
“Baby look at me.” He comes over and kneels down in front of you, “This shit is not normal nor is it ever okay, fuck them for making you feel like this. I hate seeing you look so dejected reading all those hateful comments,” he takes your hands in his and kisses them, “just lemme take care of it. Please?”
You look conflicted like you’re not sure if you should say yes but with a little more coaxing you finally sigh, “Fineee, just don’t do anything crazy. I don’t need my boyfriend in jail, thank you very much.”
Jungkook cracks a smile and buries his face in your lap with a happy sigh, “I promise baby, if I go to jail, who else is gonna cook you fried rice at three in the morning? Who else is gonna give you their black card?” He teases.
“Yeah, yeah now come here.” You open your arms for him, “You know I only need you and that’s all.”
Jungkook kisses that soft pout off your face as he nods, “I know you do baby, didn’t think otherwise.” He grins and lays his head on your chest with closed eyes.
The two of you sit there in silence together with the TV playing low in the background. Jungkook for the most part behaves himself despite being so close to your soft tits that are poorly hidden under your camisole. He can literally dip his head in there and get a sneak peek, maybe even a mouthful of titties—
“Jungkook, really?” You sigh, “You’re such a pervert.”
“You like it,” Jungkook winks as he mouths at your tit through your little camisole, “can I?” He knows you can’t resist and judging by the way your thighs press together, “Pretty pleaseee baby?” He gives you the best puppy eyes he can muster, all a man wants is some titty loving, that’s all.
You don’t even finish saying yes before he’s diving in and tugging your camisole down so that your tits spill out and into his face. His eyes light up and he immediately wraps his lips around a nipple, suckling gently as he laves his tongue over the stiff bud in his mouth. You quietly sigh and sink into the sofa with him following as he rolls his tongue over your nipple and flicks it repeatedly.
“You’re such a baby you know that?” You murmur, “But you’re my handsome bun,” the nickname has him perking up, “my strong, big, handsome bun.” You coo softly while stroking his hair slowly.
Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the warm feeling, his sucking slows down until he’s barely moving his tongue anymore and simply suckling on your teat. “You like hearing how strong you are don’t you baby—love knowing you can easily beat someone’s ass for me?”
He nods pathetically with a low groan, “Of course you do,” you softly coo, “it’s why I picked you, knew you’d be able to take care of me the way I deserve.” You scratch his scalp lightly, moaning softly when he makes another noise, “Treat me so good like the princess I am.”
That he does. Jungkook is in heaven right now, he feels like he can just pass out right here and now with a titty in his mouth. He can’t help but shudder as he slips into a dream-like state, “Go ahead baby, just rest yeah? I got you.” You softly say while cradling his head and going lax under him, “Take what you need.”
And he does. He ends up falling asleep, one of the best fucking naps ever with your tit still in his mouth even when he wakes up. He so needs to do this another time, shit’s relaxing and a good stress reliever. Jungkook doesn’t think you’ll have any complaints either.
.
It’s a busy week for Jungkook because he has a match coming up in a few weeks and Yoongi has him completely locking in at the gym for training. You don’t mind it and being the best girlfriend you are you come as support during his sessions. You also confirmed his suspicions that Seokjin was a secret stan because his hyung fanboys out when he meets you.
“Hyung stop it.” Jungkook glares, “Leave her alone before I punch you.”
Seokjin scoffs, “No way, I get to meet my idol and you wanna ruin it for me? Where’s my respect, you brat.” This guy—needless to say Jungkook’s shooting daggers at his hyung the entire time he’s there.
The real challenge comes during the press conference/weigh-in Jungkook goes to like he always does. It starts off normal, the guy doesn’t trash talk and Jungkook’s not one for it either unless the fighter’s cocky then yeah he’ll put them in their place but this guy’s alright which he appreciates. It’s the fucking reporters that get Jungkook heated sometimes.
“Jeon, how do you feel about this upcoming match? Any thoughts on your opponent?” One asks with his recorder held out.
“I’m excited like always, I know potential when I see it so I’m hoping to have a great match with my opponent. He looks like he can give me a run for my money.” He laughs softly into the mic.
Another reporter asks something but it’s directed at his opponent so Jungkook just nods off listening to the two. Out of the corner of his eye he sees someone laughing when he looks at him, and at first he doesn’t pay attention and just keeps his focus on the reporters. But then this guy comes to the front and Jungkook just knows he’s about to hear the stupidest shit in his life.
“Jeon, so how are you and your girl doing? Heard the news and wanted to congratulate you.” He says with this sleazy grin.
It rubs him the wrong way but Jungkook keeps his temper in check as he forces himself to politely answer, “Good, thank you.” He curtly replies.
He hears Yoongi clear his throat next to him with a fierce glare, “Let’s try and keep this about the match, he's not here to answer questions about his life, this isn’t a personal interview.”
You’d think that after being called out like that he’d stop there and move on but no, this guy’s a piece of work. “I mean I was just askin’ cause I was kinda surprised with the news since you know, she been ran through by the entire industry.” This gets Jungkook to react as he pushes his chair back, causing it to fly backwards as he slowly stalks forward.
“New guy every month—say, you the new boy of the month Jeon?” He smirks.
Jungkook doesn’t even think before he lunges at him, he hears Yoongi call his name as Namjoon springs into action to get Jungkook back but it’s too late.
Jungkook’s fist connects with the side of this man’s jaw and sends him flying to the ground as Jungkook lifts his (now) bloody fist up to strike him again with a sick sound. He’s so far gone right now he doesn’t even feel when Namjoon yanks him off the guy.
“Jungkook! Calm the fuck down and get off him!” Namjoon yells through the chaos as reporters scramble to get shots and videos of this.
“No, get off me hyung! Let me fuckin’ go where is this little shit? If you’re such a fuckin’ man come say it to my face one more fucking time, I dare you! Say it!” He yells as he struggles against Namjoon’s strong hold.
It takes three guys to get Jungkook away from the reporter, Yoongi deals with the rest but Jungkook’s so fucking mad he can’t even sit right now. He’s pacing back and forth in the little backroom they got him in as Namjoon watches with concern in his eyes. He hasn’t tried to calm him down because even he knows the danger of trying to talk to him while he’s this mad.
The door slams open and Yoongi steps in, “Jungkook what the fuck was that?! That guy went to the hospital, do you even realize the mess you caused? He’s gonna press charges–”
“I don’t give a fuck!” Jungkook interrupts, stunning Yoongi into silence, “He fucking disrespected my girlfriend thinking that shit was funny. I could really give two fucks if he wants to press charges or not!” Namjoon watches the two in silence, but he’s ready to jump in if Jungkook turns on Yoongi or something.
Yoongi, who usually has something smart to say for everything, for once doesn’t have shit to say. He just stands there watching Jungkook kick the chair over and pace around the room furiously. “Kid, look, I get you. I would do the same too if I was in your place but this shit isn’t worth it. You can’t be letting them get to you like this, that’s what they want.”
“Well he fucking got what he wanted.” Jungkook scoffs with a humorless laugh.
“Just go home, I’ll deal with the press.” Yoongi sighs as he rubs his temples, “Please, for once just do what I say.”
The news is bad, there’s a shit ton of articles coming out within the next hour about how Jungkook attacked the reporter and left him a bloody puddle on the ground. It’s all over the place and there’s a shit ton of people commenting about it on online forums and comment sections. One side praises him for defending you, and then the other criticizes his inability to keep himself under control but Jungkook doesn’t care.
The REAL cherry on top is when you post your response to the news—you use that video of Latto saying “thank you to my man” along with a cute selfie of you cuddled up in bed with Jungkook. Even you made it clear as day you didn’t give a fuck about that guy either.
Your fans who had previously had negative reactions to your dating news were coming around too in favor of Jungkook. They said shit like “free JK he did nothing wrong” and voiced their support for him. Some were even harassing the reporter who had dared to say those things about you, demanding that he lose credibility as a reporter amongst other things.
Jungkook thinks it’s going to be okay because that guy totally fucking deserved it (and more).
.
The weeks fly by and the day of his big match comes—the biggest one yet because bets are high and on top of that Jungkook has a winning streak to keep up if he wants them to give him the title of “undefeated”. Following the conference nothing really happened, the guy turned out to have some shady shit on him so he decided not to press any charges in the end. God bless Yoongi for digging shit up.
With that being dealt with Jungkook could finally put his entire focus on the match. He had heard the entire arena sold out and some of the richest people on earth were attending. This was a huge deal and he had everything to lose. Jungkook was confident in his win but this guy was also the deal too, which only means Jungkook has to keep his guard up.
“You ready kid? This is about to be the biggest fight of your career.” Yoongi says as he comes to sit in front of Jungkook, “You’re gonna have to kick it up a notch this match, the guy’s good but he isn’t better than you.”
He nods at that because Jungkook’s confident in his fighting abilities, “I know hyung, I have a really good feeling about tonight.” He smiles, “Don’t worry about it, I got this under control.”
“Good, that’s what I like to hear from you.” Yoongi grins back as he pats his back, “Now get out there and make me proud.”
The arena buzzes with life when Jungkook enters the room, he’s hit with flashing lights in every direction as people scream and chant his name. He’s getting worked up again as the adrenaline slowly kicks in. Jungkook makes his way up to the ring, passing over your section where you’re sitting with Namjoon and Seokjin.
He closes his eyes for a brief moment, blocking out the crowd and music as he tries to focus. He can do this, he can do this. He will win, for you.
The guy packs a good punch and each round gets progressively harder and harder to fight him off. During one of the breaks in-between the rounds, he slumps into his corner as Yoongi immediately springs over to help him with his mouth guard.
“He’s tiring you out Kook, he’s gonna wait until you’re low on energy to give it his all.” Yoongi warns, “You need to match his pace instead of wasting your energy so early.”
Jungkook pants tiredly as he shakes his head, “Hyung he’s gonna knock me out.” He says deliriously, filled with pain and adrenaline.
“No he isn’t, because you’re not going to let him, you hear me? You’re going to get back out there and show that punk what you’re made of.” Yoongi sternly replies, “Do it for the pretty girl waiting for your win.”
Jungkook’s eyes snap over to where you sit, you look really scared and on top of that worried. He sees the way your knee bounces and how you pick at your fingernails. This isn’t what he wants to see.. This isn’t what he wants at all.
“Okay.” Jungkook grunts with renewed energy, “Fuck, okay.”
Yoongi pats his back gently and steps away from the ring, “Remember: match his pace.”
Jungkook rises to his feet and gets ready for the next round. He only has a few more before a winner has to be announced or the match is tied. Only one of them will walk out a champion, and it’s going to be him.
He takes Yoongi’s advice and matches this guy’s pace, he observes his every move and studies the combos he throws out. The guy’s a corner tech type so Jungkook avoids the edges and keeps him in the middle. He also notices that he goes for uppercuts and rear hooks.
As Jungkook prepares to strike he loses his footing and the guy takes the chance to hook him across the face. It sends Jungkook to the ground as he falls with a groan of pain. “Fuck.” He whispers.
He’s not sure how much longer he can keep up, can he even get up? His vision is beginning to blur a little and his hearing’s a little hazy too. He barely even makes out the referee counting down to a knockout.
Through the blurriness he sees Yoongi run over to the side of the net, “Get up, kid! Fuck, c’mon Jungkook get up!” He desperately says.
Jungkook wants to, but everything hurts so much and he’s so tired right now. He weakly tries to get up, barely managing to hold up on all fours as he pants heavily with blood dripping down onto the mat below. He lifts his head up slowly and suddenly the world stops.
You’re standing there with tears in your eyes, your mouth’s moving rapidly (most likely pleading with him to get up). Jungkook doesn’t like that, he swore he’d never let you feel that way again after you attended his first match and saw how bad it was. Fuck.
“Four…three..”
Get up. Get up. Get up. Get up.
Jungkook grits his teeth and stumbles forward, barely managing to catch himself on the nets as he looks back at his opponent with renewed strength. The countdown stops and the match continues, he is going to win this if that’s the last thing he does.
He lunges forward and the guy doesn’t expect it coming as Jungkook manages to get him cornered before he lets loose. He rains a slew of punches, too fast for the guy to keep up who doesn’t expect him to suddenly be this fast.
Jungkook feels like he blacks out during all this, landing hit after hit until he’s finished with one last uppercut and then everything stops. He feels a pair of hands pull him back as the referee begins the countdown. Jungkook stands there heaving as he watches tiredly.
“..Two..one..” The bell suddenly rings and the crowd cheers.
He did it. Holy shit, he did it!
Both Yoongi and Namjoon rush into the ring together, bringing him into their arms as they jump with joy. “You fucking did it!” Namjoon smiles happily.
“Where’s…where’s y/n?” Jungkook blearily asks as he looks around.
“She’s right there,” Yoongi points out, “she’s still here Kook.”
He pulls away from the hug and trudges over to the net, holding it up and holding his arm out for you, “C’mere baby.” He calls out.
You immediately stumble over and climb into the ring with him, sinking right into his arms when he tugs you close. “I’m here,” he whispers, “I’m here.”
“Don’t ever scare me like that again! You hear me? I don’t ever wanna see you like that.” You whimper and cup his face, “Oh Jungkook..”
He smiles softly and leans down to kiss you passionately in front of everyone. You easily melt into the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck. When he pulls back he looks around with a stupid grin on his face, “Fucking won but everything hurts.”
You frown cutely and ignore the reporters that begin to swarm the two of you. Jungkook keeps you tucked into his side as he answers their questions, “Feels really good I can’t lie, even if I feel like shit right now though. But I’m just glad I won, I've been wanting to dedicate this win to my beautiful girl.” He smiles down at you and kisses the top of your head.
They start throwing more questions at him after that. They’re all kind of the same regarding their relationship because they’re just dying to know all about his relationship to you. They even try to ask you some questions but luckily Yoongi intervenes when it begins to get out of control.
“Alright back up, give Jungkook some space.” Yoongi says as he pushes some reporters away, “You ready to go Kook?”
“Yeah, get me the fuck outta here.” Jungkook groans as he follows after his hyungs with you close by.
Yoongi and the others help Jungkook get into an ice bath as soon as they get into the back room. You work on cleaning the blood off his face and icing his wounds, “Does it hurt? Well, more than usual?” You softly ask.
“No babe I’m fine.” Jungkook replied calmly as he closed his eyes, “The ice feels really good, I’m sore all over.”
You hum, “Let me know if I’m hurting you.”
“I will.” He hums back and sinks into the ice with a relaxed sigh.
The cold sensation on his body is working wonders on his sore muscles. It feels like he’s living the dream right now. He doesn’t think he wants to even party after this, sure a big win calls for a celebratory dinner or something but right now cuddling and going to sleep sounds way better.
Yeah, way better.
.
“I thought you were too sore to do anything, what happened to that?” You laugh softly while looking down at him.
Jungkook’s pout deepens, “I can still move my hips, see?” He says and demonstrates with a little thrust up, “Pleaseeee! For me baby? I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts or something.”
You look at him in disbelief, “You literally just got beat up what do you mean please? Look at you! Why the heck is sex even on your mind right now?”
“Because, you looked so sexy on that billboard on our way back here.” He huffs casually leaving out the part where he raged because everyone can see you and no doubt millions have.
Not that he’s petty but he’s petty, he wanted to tear that shit down and keep it for himself. “That’s not the point,” he groans and tosses his head back on the pillow, “I can still move and it’s not like my cock got beat up too.”
“You are so nasty.” You laugh softly and sit back on his lap, “If I ride you will that make you happy, hm?”
It’s comical the way his hair bounces when he nods vigorously, “Yes.” He says without hesitation, “It’s like a reward.” He grins toothily.
You roll your eyes at him with a sigh, “You’re so spoiled,” you mumble while reaching down to help him pull his boxers down.
“Wait!” Jungkook looks up at you with pouty eyes, “Can you..?” He tugs at the loose shirt you’re wearing.
Immediately you know what he wants and you nod, “My baby deserves it doesn’t he?” You softly say while tossing the garment somewhere else, “Did so good out there,” you purr and lean over him.
His eyes sparkle as he nods, “I did,” he whispers and licks his lips, “means I get a reward right?”
“Yes you do.” You gently coax him closer as you lean down to press your soft tit to his lips, “Take it, ‘s all yours.” He latches on without wasting another second.
Your lips part as a soft breathy moan escapes, your soft hand reaches down to fish his hard cock out of his boxers. He shudders when you start stroking him, it’s slow and sensual as you gather bits of precum with your thumb and slowly work your way down around the shaft.
His balls sit heavy and they ache with need to empty themselves in you. Jungkook has to fight the urge to buck his hips as he accidentally grazes his teeth against your bud.
You yelp softly and he pulls away apologetically, “Easy, not so hard.” You softly chastise.
“Sorry.” Jungkook murmurs and presses a kiss on your tit before moving to the opposite one.
“Just sit back and relax baby,” you murmur, “I got you.”
You position the head at your weeping pussy, slapping it repeatedly in small taps until the tip catches on your hole. Jungkook holds his breath as you begin to slide down on his sensitive cock until you're bottoming out with your ass meeting his thighs.
“Good?” You softly whisper.
Jungkook nods and goes back to suckling on your nipple in peace. You rock yourself in his lap steadily like you’re scared you’re gonna hurt him but Jungkook encourages you with a little buck. This makes you sink down in his lap with a lewd moan, his cock shifting deeper inside.
“Use me,” Jungkook quietly pipes up, “I can take it.” His breath hot and heavy over your pebbled nipple.
“You sure? What if I hurt you?” You murmur.
“I’ll be fine baby, I’ll let you know if something hurts. Please?” He opens his mouth to take your nipple back in.
You shiver and bite your lip still a bit worried but you end up giving in. You slowly pick up the pace, switching from grinding to bouncing. There’s a low smack here and there but it’s nothing too crazy because you’re going as gentle as you can.
Jungkook’s lips tighten around your nipple with every grind and bounce. Your pussy tugs at his cock with the right amount of pressure sending shivers down his spine. He moans softly and moves one hand up to grip your bouncing tit.
“Fuck you look good like this,” he breathes out in pleasure.
You groan softly as he squeezes your tit in his strong hand, massaging the soft mound of flesh afterwards. He pulls away to push both tits together and buries his face between them with a happy sigh, “Never wanna leave, I could die a happy man like this sweetheart.”
“You’re just a perv.” You chuckle with a moan.
“For you.” Jungkook grins and then lays back, “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already.” He notices that your bouncing has slowed down.
You glare cutely at him and sit up, “I don’t like doing the work in case you haven’t noticed.” You mumble while grinding back and forth over his cock, “You’re lucky I love you enough to do this.”
His eyes widen when he hears the words “love” and “you” in one sentence. It makes his sappy little heart beat with joy and pride hearing those words leave your lips, he can’t help but buck his hips upward eagerly.
“Jungkook..!” You gasp throwing your head back.
“Say it again baby,” he huffs as he uses his strong grip to haul you up and plop you back down on his lap, “I wanna hear it–” He cuts off with a breathy moan.
“I love you.” The words make him groan louder as he slaps his hips upward.
“Fuck I love you too,” he moans, “so, so fuckin’ much, you have no idea.” He whispers and looks up at you through hooded eyes.
You bite your lip hard and throw your head back with a whine, “ ‘m coming.” You whimper.
“Oh you like hearing that don’t you, knowing damn well that you got me wrapped around your fingers.” Jungkook huffs with exertion as he fucks into you harder.
“Y-Yes, love it so much knowing you’re mine,” you mewl softly and grind on him, “fuck, fuck..!” Your pussy clamps down and suddenly you’re coming all over him in slow waves of harsh pleasure.
Jungkook pulls you down for a passionate kiss as he holds you down against his pelvis. A few more rolls has him coming too, cock throbbing and twitching. He lays there panting heavily with hazy eyes while you whine about him being careful.
“Don’t put pressure on your side,” you grumble, “I told you we shouldn’t have fooled around.”
“I’m fine, see? Nothing’s wrong.” Jungkook laughs and delivers a sharp smack to your ass, “Now tell me you love me again. Wanna hear it from your pretty lips.” He mumbles and traces over your bottom lip.
“I love you.” You fondly sigh.
“Again.”
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“You’re so annoying! I’m going to shower.” You huff and stomp off with cum leaking down your inner thighs.
Jungkook lays there with a soft grin as he watches you go, “Yeah, yeah, I love you too though.” Forever.
And ever.
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blueywrites · 2 days
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someday I'll get it
eddie munson x fem!reader eddie comforts you when the lingering memory of your ex brings shame with soaked sheets.
3.1k
cw: 18+. toxic ex, feelings of self-doubt, referenced verbal abuse, hurt/comfort, smut, squirting, first time piv with new partner, no y/n, no physical descriptions.
this is for my fellow infps & all the girlies who fall fast and hard. a bit of a departure from the other naughty nights entries - not as filthy, quite a bit more emotional. I really liked writing it! check out the original ask here.
enjoy xx
Two months after you and David broke up, you downloaded Hinge. Your best friend helped you make your profile, and after some careful crafting over brunch mimosas to soften the flaws you saw in your photos and loosen your lips to make you clever in your bio, you were happy with the facsimile of yourself you’d presented to the dating public. The nerves only crept in during the Uber ride back to your apartment. What if no one liked you? What if what David said— that you’d never find someone that cared about you like he did— turned out to be right? You knew, deep down, that David’s idea of ‘care’ was not what you wanted. But as the weeks went by, your hope began to dwindle; your heart shriveled a little more each time a potential connection faltered and died. And though you kept reminding yourself how bad things were with him, how small he made you feel and how little he truly gave you, you couldn’t help the fragment inside you that hissed in a raspy twang:
Maybe I’m all you’re good enough for. Maybe my love is all you really deserve, and without me, you’ll just end up alone.
And then you found Eddie. 
His was the first conversation that lasted longer than a handful of back-and-forth messages, aside from that one rushed first ‘date’ that turned out just to be an attempt to get some dick’s dick wet. Eddie was chatty, maybe a bit excessively so, but you’d take that over the dry single-sentence replies most guys seemed capable of. It was refreshing not to be the one sending double- and triple-texts for once. And he didn’t do it in an anxious way, either, or one that made you feel you weren’t answering quickly enough. It seemed more that he just wanted to talk to you about whatever popped into his head, and that— along with his pretty brown eyes and smile, his lobe piercings and hand tattoos, and that one blurred photo of him playing guitar on some cramped bar stage, looking all sweaty and alive— piqued your interest in a major way.
Eventually, he took you on a first date, which was followed quickly by a second. And after a full month or so of officially seeing one another, now, following an afternoon spent together, you’re in your bed with him— laid out along your sheets, his weight having dipped the mattress beside you enough times that it’s just starting to feel familiar. 
Looking up at Eddie above you, you’re hit again by how sexy he is, sexier than his Hinge profile would’ve suggested, even though that initial photo made your finger pause in the first place. In it, his hair was tied up at the nape of his neck; it’s loose now, hanging around his pale face in loose tangles ‘cause you’d run your fingers through it while he kissed you. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and it is again, except now there’s the pink flush of arousal across his cheeks and a sheen of sweat gleaming off the bulb of his soft nose, visible in the dim light from your lamp. That first time you saw him, Eddie's fingers were wrapped around a tattoo gun, frozen mid-stroke as he carefully etched ink into skin. Now, they’re quite in motion— just as deft and strong, but instead of using them to crawl the needle across the expanse of someone’s back, he’s plunging them into your swollen pussy, winding you up tighter and tighter ‘til you’re writhing on your own sheets.
He’s been at it for a little while now, coaxing your pleasure out with those thrusting fingers and the rough pad of his thumb swiping over your clit. You moan, letting your eyes slip closed as your orgasm starts to rush up, ready to let that wave wash over you before you happily return the favor. But when Eddie presses the heel of his palm firmly into your lower stomach, flicking his thumb faster against your clit as he fingers you, your mounting pleasure twists, thrumming into something more intense. 
Oh, fuck. 
The feeling is ecstasy but beneath it, there’s also panic. Because you know— and dread— what comes next. 
You gasp, choking on the words of warning stuck in your throat, your hand snapping to grip his wrist. You mean to pull it off but you don’t, just clutch him tight in a way he must take as encouragement because he starts to talk you through it. “That’s it, sweetheart, soak my fuckin’ hand—”
It’s inevitable now, so you stop trying to fight it. Like a flipped switch, you release the resistance, leaning into the feeling, which triples in size the moment you do. You seize up, crying out as you cum around Eddie’s fingers— eyelids fluttering, mouth hanging open, the gush of fluid against your inner thighs a secondary sensation to the gut-wrenching orgasm wracking your body. When it subsides, your body feels wrung out in the best way, sunken into the mattress, languid and boneless and like you’re so light you might float away if Eddie wasn’t pressing kisses into your neck like praise.
The peace has to break though. It always does. The second you shift and feel the sodden sheets below you, that familiar shame triggers, quick on the heels of a cruel twang bouncing around your skull. 
You draw your legs up, inadvertently kneeing Eddie in the belly. When he pulls back to look at you, you’re curling into yourself, staring up at him so mournfully his heart must twist ‘cause you can see it written on his face.
He searches your face for a moment. Then Eddie’s eyes widen and his face blanches; you see the concern give way to horror. His adam’s apple bobs on a thick swallow. “A-Are you okay?” Eddie croaks, hovering awkwardly now, seemingly stuck between wanting to reach for you and give you space. “Did I hurt you? Did you not want—?”
He looks sick, but you’re quick to shake your head, feeling even sadder now that you’d made him worry. “No, m’sorry,” you say in a small voice. “I’m so sorry, I’m— I didn’t mean to.” You take a breath that hitches in your chest. “I-I made a mess…”
Instantly, Eddie looks relieved. He even huffs a little disbelieving chuckle. "So? You think I care about a little mess?" he asks, squinting as he tips his head at you, aiming for levity. But his attempt to make light of things can't break through to you— not after all the times you've been here before, cowering in your own cooling puddle as David beat you down with his caustic words, leaving you with bruises on the inside of your ribs. 
When your expression crumples further, any amusement slides off Eddie's face, leaving him utterly somber. Quietly, he says your name. "Are you alright?"
Your mouth works soundlessly for a moment before you find your voice. It feels jagged, like it’s been broken apart and splintered back together. “My ex… he used to get really mad when that happened. Said it was gross, that it was my fault now he’d have to wash the sheets.” An ache rises up your throat, and you avert your eyes. “He’d make me do it and change the bed before I could go to sleep.”
A severe wrinkle forms between Eddie’s brows— confusion, indignation, maybe both. “Wait, but— couldn’t he feel it coming? It feels different inside when a girl’s gonna squirt. Why would he keep doing it if he didn’t want you to?” He’s plain, as direct as he always is, and in the face of such a bald question, you have nothing to reply with but the barest shrug of shoulders weighed heavy under a burden you haven’t yet been able to shed.
When some seconds pass in silence, Eddie realizes you aren’t going to elaborate. He softens. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “For what it’s worth, sex is supposed to be messy. And I really wanted to make you feel good. I’m glad I did.”
You can’t see them, but you can feel his fingertips brush against your ankle. When you nudge into the touch, he places a tentative hand on your foot, letting his thumb press into the center just below your toes. He raises his eyebrows, looking something like a puppy dog. “D’you wanna take a break? Can I get you some water?”
You shake your head, then open your hands to him— not quite able to extend your arms out for a hug, feeling too brittle and pathetic to make your wanting so obvious. You find with relief that Eddie is perceptive enough to know what the gesture means. Carefully, he leans over you and plants his palms beside your upper arms, sliding them under to fold you in. When he goes to lower himself in a slant on top of you, you let your knees fall open in a silent invitation instead. You’re very happy you did when, after some mutual shifting and shimmying to make yourselves comfortable, Eddie’s weight slots against you— your collarbone to his chest, his lap held in the cradle of your thighs, your arms wound underneath his to clutch his bare back as he presses you into a comforting embrace.
You focus on the feeling of Eddie on top of you— his belly expanding and contracting against your navel, his heat seeping into you head-to-toe, his herb-musk scent clinging to his shoulder when you tuck your face there, slowly letting him ease you. For a while, you breathe into him like that, letting yourself sink into the intimacy of all his bare skin against yours until the physical sensations swallow up that hissing voice, and it finally falls silent. With a heavy sigh of relief, the last of the lingering tension from the memory of David leaves you. 
Finding you now relaxed, Eddie hums against your hair, a rumble that sounds like satisfaction with himself that he was able to bring you comfort. He untucks one of his hands from beneath you then, shifts his arm along your sheets so his forearm frames your head. You pull your face from his hot skin, letting your head thump back against the mattress as the final surrender to your recovery. 
Eddie’s thumb strokes along your hairline as he looks down at you, his hips cradled by yours, his flagging but still present erection pressed intimately against the crease of your thigh behind his boxers. Quickly, you realize how much easier it was to be embraced like this when he wasn’t looking at you. Under his gaze, you feel exposed, almost too much to bear-- too vulnerable, your soft underbelly revealed for him to sink his teeth into. But he doesn't. Maybe, you think, Eddie never would. Where David had fangs, Eddie's teeth are blunted; capable of damage if he were to try hard enough, but more suited to playful nips, which is all he ever seems to care for anyways, at least for how little long you've known him. He's still new, and you're still learning how it feels for him to see you and decide what he'll do with what he finds. 
It's thrilling and downright scary to let him, but you let him. You blink up at Eddie, deliberately resisting the urge to master your expression and hide from him. Your heart thuds and squirms as he observes you for a long moment, still stroking your forehead with his thumb like you're a skittish rabbit, kept only from fleeing by a gentle, hypnotizing touch. 
After a long moment, Eddie's features ease. One corner of his lips tugs up into a crooked, dimpled smile. "Pretty girl," he murmurs, and something releases inside you. Your hands skate down the hot plain of his back, skimming slowly over its topography-- the elegant jut of his shoulder blades, the solid strength of his lats, the low, curved dip just before the hill of his covered cheeks. Those you spread your fingers over, gently pulling him in closer to you, and you flutter at the shaky breath he exhales over your lips as his shaft presses tighter between your bodies.
"You want to?" he whispers, his eyes flitting between yours. You know what he’s asking. In the month you’ve been together, you’ve done pretty much everything but gone all the way with him. You weren’t waiting for anything in particular, more just a sense that it would feel right to connect with him that way.
You feel that now.
So you respond with a kiss— firm, decisive, one that Eddie opens his mouth instantly to. His tongue finds yours eagerly, slick muscle against slick muscle, and the wet sounds of you meeting and parting have your arousal stirring up into a flurry of excitement and desire. Your fingertips ease beneath the waistband of his boxers, pushing the fabric down to bare him, and you crane your neck to keep kissing him until eventually you can’t reach any lower. Eddie helps you shimmy them off then, his lips falling still as he concentrates on wiggling his hips and kicking his legs to get them down to his ankles. You feel him kick one final time, followed by the faint shlump of fabric hitting the ground before he’s suddenly propped on his elbows and his hands are cupping your cheeks, tilting your face to kiss you so thoroughly it steals your breath away.
And you think— expect, maybe— that now that you’re about to have sex, the energy between you and Eddie will keep escalating until you’re caught up in a rush: both panting, desperate, fervent in your need for completion. But it doesn’t happen like that. Instead, your kisses slow, turning into lingering, open-mouthed presses, a sensual ebb and flow of lips and tongue and teeth— deep, savoring, as if the pleasure of what you’ll both feel when he joins with you is so certain, there’s no need to hurry it along. You raise your knee to open yourself up, and with a nudge of Eddie’s narrow hips, his shaft nestles into the slick wetness between your puffy lips. You press up to meet him, grinding slowly in time with your kisses until your abundant arousal coats him thoroughly, easing the way for you to reach down and guide his tip to catch at your entrance. And when you lift your legs, joining your ankles at the back of his thighs, you feel Eddie enter you for the first time.
There’s no resistance. It’s just a slip, a glide, and an exquisite stretch as he sinks inside, splitting you with his thickness. Eddie moans low as his cockhead meets the deepest part of you. It’s a gravelly sound, one that rumbles against your breasts when you twine your limbs tighter around him, already covetous of the feeling of him touching every bit of you he possibly can. Your pussy flexes and flutters, testing the welcome intrusion, preening when she elicits an answering twitch from his length before he draws just slightly back and rocks in again. You sigh softly, smiling as your eyes slip closed when you feel Eddie’s curved lips press to your temple. 
The rhythm you find together is natural, if rather shallow— shallow because your hands are clutching at his back and his arms are wrapped tight around you, keeping you close as can be. He can’t pull even halfway out; his hips rock in the barest gap that remains as if neither of you can stand even that much distance. There’s no lack of enthusiasm, though, no lack of passion as he pushes in so tight that the pressure has your swollen clit jolting with a delicious spark on every thrust. The heat between you grows, turning you sticky and damp with sweat down the length of your bodies. The pleasure grows too, quickly for you with all the stimulation until you’re panting against his shoulder. It grows unimpeded until Eddie nestles his face down further toward you, inadvertently feeding you a mouthful of his hair.
You turn your cheek and try to spit it out, but the thick, dry strands stick stubbornly to your lips until you have to enlist his help. "Your hair's everywhere, Eddie,” you murmur, more amused than anything.
"Ah, shit.” You have to hide a smile against his jaw at how put out he sounds. “Sorry." He tries to shake it away from you, craning his neck back but unwilling to stop embracing you.
"S' okay." Gently, you extract your arms from under his, huffing a little chuckle at the tiny whine of protest that rumbles in his throat. He props himself up so you can carefully clear his face: nudging his bangs out of his eyes, then pushing back the bulk of his curls, tucking them tenderly behind his ears. 
"There," you say, sweet and warm, your smile growing at the way the hair almost springs right out again. Unable to be contained, a lot like Eddie. 
A lot like the way you feel about him. 
"I love your hair," you tell him suddenly, your heart twisting at the way he lights up in response. Eddie rubs the very tip of his nose against yours, smiling boyish and wide, and emotion wells up inside you-- potent and poignant like the sting of happy tears, sweet like coming home and tender like a bruise all at once. 
And it’s like the second you say it, you can’t stop thinking about what words really want to spring from your lips. But it's too soon, far too soon, so you cup his face, draw your thumb along his cheek, and kiss him instead, keeping yourself occupied so those words will stay inside.
You kiss him until he’s moving steadily within you again; kiss him until you’re squirming beneath him, whining into his mouth. Kiss him as he drives you over the edge of bliss and then follows you, groaning when he throbs and spills inside. You kiss Eddie until the pleasure fades into contentment, until you both are sated, until those kisses gradually slow and gentle and turn to chaste presses of swollen, love-bitten lips.
Your mouths finally part. And when you see the way Eddie’s looking at you— the curl at the corner of his lips, the subtle tilt of his brow, the warmth in his deep brown eyes— you remember what David told you before you made him leave.
You’ll never find someone who cares about you the way I do.
You knew he was wrong then. But now, you know it.
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jayswhorex · 1 day
Text
"men suck," you say plopping down on the couch and putting your legs on jason's lap. you leaned back into the plush seating, trying to find some form of comfort in your mind. you had another bad date? that's only the 3rd one this week. this one had spent the whole evening talking about just himself, and god was he boring.
jason's eyes didn't bother looking at you and instead, he helped you peel off those wrenched heels you had worn. "we don't all suck" jason with a snicker, you could just feel the smirk on his face. he never liked any of the guys you went on dates with and he always told you, you had a better option right in front of you but he. he said placing your heels on the floor next to the couch.
"your feet are going to hurt like hell in the morning, let me help you make em less sore princess" softly he grabbed the base of your foot and gently kneaded it into your heel, massaging at the red, bruised skin. at first, you felt the need to pull away from his touch but you slowly began to relax into it.
jason's calloused hands moved from your feet up towards your ankle and then towards your lower thigh, you saw no harm in this.
"jay are you sure-"
"shhh, i've got you, sweetheart, just relax m'kay?" he was only helping you and you didn't want him to stop, at least not now. was it crime to want a bit more, to yearn for more of his touch.
you couldn't help but gasp at the warm feeling of his hands so gentle on your bare skin, under your skirt. "mmm, jay again please…" the two of you had never crossed a line like this and by now you knew you should have told him to stop but you couldn't.
not when your breaths were heavy and you couldn't help but let out estranged moans from just his touch. "fuck, more jay, more!" and with just those words your skirt was bunched up against your stomach and your panties had his full attention. you know what you wanted and he knew too.
he changed his position and began to massage your upper thighs. he leaned against his forearm beside your head while his other hand parted your thighs. he leaned and whispered into your ear, "where is it you want me to touch you, baby?"
without a second to waste you guide his hand to your panties, gently pushing them aside. "here please" you whined and he caved. he didn't hesitate to remove his pants not did he hesitate and sink his thick cock into you. "too much jay, wait wait" allowing you a moment to take in his length and near cum from just the feeling.
his thrusts were slow but we were rough and deep like he had been. waiting for this and he couldn't wait any longer. your legs folded around his waist, bringing his body even closer to yours. this was pure sex and it was exactly what you needed, jason knew that. he could tell you were pent up and tired and he didn't mind doing all the work, he just need you to let him fuck you till, he's the only man you'll ask for.
you won't spend your nights on useless dates but instead spend them on his cock, taking in every inch and piece of him possible. he couldn't help but kiss yours while his hips stuttered against yours, his thrusts becoming softer. you bit at the lip, thinking more when he tried to pull away.
your hands dug into their back, still, you managed to yearn for more. "jay, god I think i'm-" you said, digging into his back once before reaching your release and falling back into the couch. you closed your eyes and then you heard him ask, "what are you thinking about sweetheart?"
there you were on the couch, legs on jason's lap while he massaged the bottom of your foot. nothing had happened, well nothing that you wanted had happened. you could fantasize about what those hands could do for you.
"just how great a full body massage would be…"
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satoruluvies · 3 days
Note
HAII SRRY HAVENT TALK IN WHIE THOUGHT U HAD SM WORK DO
imagine geto seein his ex girlfriend (you) with gojo and he like beyond pissed so he sends gojo a threat? and gojo sees the threat and sends a video of you and him in bed and he captions it has "she busy bro" and geto cant help but save the video cause you look so pretty in it
HAHAH
🐱 anon strikes again!!
-🐱 anon
[nsfw; mdni] ──
oh we a bitch for this one with the 'just because it doesn't work out with him, doesn't mean it won't work out with his best friend.'
this could be a full blow angst though because listen. suguru deflected, leaving you behind without so much of an explanation. when you confronted him all he said was "you heard from shoko right?" he owed you so much explaining and gave you none. you had been there with him, doing your best trying to help him though his rut, ensuring you were always there for him but apparently that wasn't enough and he left anyway. as if it was that easy.
so out of pure hurt and a little twinge of pettiness in you, you resort to sleeping with satoru. satoru, the one who pushed aside his feelings for you knowing you and suguru loved each other. satoru, who had always put his best friends before himself.
but he takes what he can get. he also needed the comfort, if it meant having you and finding traces of his own grieve for suguru in you then, no matter how wrong it is, he'll take it.
what he didn't expect though, was a text from his very best friend who put up a barrier between the both of them. that said barrier now broken and satoru does not know whether to feel relieved, guilty or infuriated.
suguru: sleeping with her? really? how cheap.
satoru: not cheaper than a guy who left her without an explanation.
suguru: very funny. stay away from her satoru.
satoru: or what?
satoru: [video] she's loving every part of it. look how pretty she is.
suguru: don't hurt her any more than i did. don't use her or i will do something we both don't want to.
satoru: im not using her. i wanted this. you know damn well i always loved her.
what satoru didn't know however was suguru saving the video. suguru would never admit it but he hates the way his throat goes dry and the way he couldn't help but feel blood rush to his cock at the way his bestfriend ruined his ex girlfriend so lewdly in the very same bed he himself had his ways with you.
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hieee ive honestly been a bit more occupied than usual with practicals and i have exams by the end of this month BUT i will never be too busy for you ;P
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hazelfoureyes · 8 hours
Text
Alastor in Rut (one shot)
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Rutting Alastor x Fem Rabbit Reader
Less than confident and lacking much in the way of assertiveness, you find hell to be scary. But, a very kind and helpful deer demon has a solution! Just in time, as an unexpected rut hits him and he feels the need to reel you in.
this is pure self indulgence. Shout out to @jazzmasternot , @lustylita , @sugoi-writes , and @minkdelovely for keeping me sane and horny (with art lol)
「Warnings/Promises: actual warning - mentions of accidental vehicular homicide and reader's death, Marathon Smut, p in v, finger almost in a?, anal is considered, knotting because fuck it, attempt at breeding, womb flooded, not dubcon but everyone in the hotel thinks it is, slightly repetitive fucking because he wont waste semen on other holes, Alastor would fuck anyone but you’re the most amusing, Alastor doesn’t think he’s the good guy which is honestly kinda cute, deadass talk about making you carry his fawns?? Why is it so hot?? Knock me up deer man bleat bleat bitch, implied previous relationship with a human man, plans to cuckold your ex, heat, blue fire isn’t hot, you’re tricked into a deal with Alastor, kinda size kink, demon Alastor, minor aftercare, a little sexual choking (as a treat)」
Hey--- we're all here for something. This is 10000 words, 5300 or so is smut. Smut starts at the bright green divider for you impatient and horny deeries.
MINORS YOU KNOW THE DRILL DNI
The line for reception was long, but that was to be expected. After the extermination ended early and Adam killed on television by a maid, the Hazbin Hotel had been busy. Or so you overheard others saying. You’d only been in hell a day, lucky enough to catch the advertisements and hear the gossip for the hotel soon after your descent.
You recognized the princess immediately, but not that tall man beside her. He wasn’t doing anything, just staring and smiling. Was he friendly? Were there friendly people in hell? Truly friendly. Not high school girl friendly. Or hungry witch friendly. He had witch vibes.
“Hiya welcome to the”, she took a deep breath in, “Hazbin Hotel! I am Charlie! This is Alastor! What did you do to bring you to hell? Gotta know so we can cater your redemption activities to your sins!”
She was staring at you so happily, pen over paper. Your eyes nervously shot to the man, who leaned down in response.
“I fell asleep driving and killed someone, and myself.”
Everything about Charlie was frozen still except the sudden glossiness forming over her eyes. “You… you… were you like, a thief or… did you…… push old ladies into traffic?”
You shook your head no.
“Gluttonous? She asked.
“No, I wasn’t a fan of overindulgence.”
“Prideful, then?” 
“Unfortunately… I don’t think too highly of myself. Living or dead.” Your hand came to your down turned rabbit ears, sad and limp. Even in death you weren’t the right kind of anything.
“Uhh,” Charlie clicked her pen furiously again and again, “Lustful?”
“Just the one partner. My highschool sweetheart.”
A sweat was forming on Charlie’s brow, “Sloth?”
“I did fall asleep behind the wheel… but it was from working 25 hours of overtime this week.”
Charlie put the pen down, “I don’t think you belong in hell. You made an accident. That’s not how sins should work…”
Your eyes bore holes into the desk, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t think heaven cares much about that.”
“Poor thing. Let’s circle back, Charlie.” Alastor’s large hand rested on your head, patting twice. 
She nodded, “Good call. I’ll just,” her tongue stuck out as she began to write, “make a new category just for you! Other.”
Yeah that made sense, you thought. That was fitting. This truly was hell. Finally you stood out, as the one who didn’t fit in. You supposed that’s what a wallflower deserved for murder. 
“Follow me little one.”  The tall Alastor instructed you as he snatched a key from the hook and walked past you.
Happily. Small tail uncontrollably swishing as you followed a foot behind him.
A hum of approval, Alastor noticing the distance you kept.
“You obey instructions well.”
You always did. “Thank you.” Tiny and soft, your response made his shadow shift and smile.
It wasn’t a compliment, but the fact you took it as one interested him. Subservient. 
Fun. 
“I take it that you really were a good girl in life, weren’t you?” He swiveled on his heels to face you, the sudden change causing your face to run into his lower chest.
A song of apologies fell from your mouth as you backed up, tripping over your own pathetic attempts at platitude and falling back onto your ass.
He was tall before but now he towered over your, hand outstretched to help you up. You offered a thank you before taking it.
Clawed fingers tightened around your palm. Not letting you pull away. “You’re new to hell, right?”
A glance around, no one else in the hallway, “Is it obvious?”
“Yes. But also, you mentioned work this week.”
A nod, “It’s been maybe a day.”
Delicious.
“Could I offer you some advice?” He leaned down, hand tightening further. Wide eyed and a little frightened with the change in atmosphere, you just nodded again. “It’s very dangerous out there for little prey animals like yourself.”
“Aren’t you also a prey animal?”
His hand uncurled.
A moment of tension, Alastor leaning down further.
A strange sound was coming from his microphone, the best approximation you had was a car radio going haywire skipping through the channels.
“Room 243!” His body popped up and he held the key out for you. The hallway lights seemed to be glowing brighter now.
You grabbed the key, “Thank you!”
Two fourty three was just past him. A small tremble kept you from getting the key in on your first and even second try. 
You didn’t even stop to turn on the light, just pushing the door closed behind you as soon as your body was through the threshold.
The relief barely left with a sigh when you heard it, “You know…”
Frozen, your eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the shining of his red and pink eyes in front of you.
“I���m somewhat of a deal maker. For a small price, I could help you. Perhaps, you’d like a change of appearance?” His voice seemed to be coming from the walls, above and beside you all at once.
Something lifted a floppy ear. But his eyes were too far from you for it to have been his own hands. A small scream as you smacked at the appendage.
“What do you say? I can use a little magic to make you happier with your new form.” A dark whisper into your right ear. 
Your hands flew to your head before you dropped to your knees to escape the hidden things touching you. 
“What do you want?” To your left now. “Let’s make a trade. A deal.” Above your head. 
His eyes were gone. Just darkness and a soft laugh echoing around you.
Your mind was reeling through possible answers, what did you want? At that moment? In general? 
An answer tumbled out, too quietly.
“Hmm?” His eyes reappeared closer to you and glowing a bloody red. “Speak up, my ears are quite a bit higher than your mouth.”
A second attempt, “Safety. I wanna be safe.” The laughter got louder, mocking you without words.
“A little tougher of an ask.” The sound of something slithering near your feet made you pull your knees tighter to your chest. “But! I’m here to please. In exchange for protection from the more nefarious of hell’s citizens I’ll need something worth my while.”
Of course, that is how deals work, right? A promise with compensation. 
“I don’t have any money, or possessions yet. Maybe I should try again later?” You were lost in the light of his stare and found the darkness deepening around him.
A considered hum, “Well, you’re already dead. You’ve no need for your soul. Damned as it is, give it to me instead. To keep safe. And I’ll always answer your calls for rescue when in harm's way.”
Why would…what use was a soul, you wondered. Was he right? But if he wanted it, surely it had value. You were too new to this world, scared to say yes and part with what little you had. 
At the risk of angering the demon in the darkness of your room, you whispered to yourself and hoped he would hear it, “I think I shouldn’t.”
Hissing in your ear, “Disappointing.”
The lights flickered on, an empty room. A bed. A nightstand. A closet. A bathroom. No tall smiling dealmaker.
A tremor stayed in your hands through the night. 
To your surprise, when you ran into Alastor the next day he was more than kind. He was eavesdropping when you asked Charlie if the hotel needed any staff. Not only did you want to be of use, you were hoping to earn some money. He quickly slid beside Charlie suggesting things you could do. 
Wow, you thought. He didn’t hold a grudge at all. Maybe he had been trying to help before? 
It took a few weeks, but you found a groove. You were a floater between the staff, helping Husk with the restocking of his bar, following behind Niffty with supplies her tiny arms couldn’t carry, and keeping notes for the activities Charlie held. It was vital for you to feel needed and everyone seemed happy to have you around. Hell wasn’t so bad.
“Dear,” Alastor found you holding a basket of towels in the hallway on a rather standard weekday, “I need an errand runner. Do you mind?”
You had been finding Alastor’s presence enjoyable, a little secret you held. He was always smiling, which made you smile in turn. And his manners, well, perfect. You couldn’t understand why such a sweet man was in hell, but then you considered you were also in hell. Mistakes happen, perhaps he was also damned by technicalities. 
Not that you would ask him, you barely spoke a word to the deer demon. Every time he was around you your throat would close up. Oftentimes you would pull your hands behind your back to shield the wiggle of your too-honest tail. 
When he would speak to you, you would get so focused on the sound of his voice and watching his mouth move you’d actually not hear a damn thing he said. You must have looked like an absolute airhead, always replying, “What?” every time he finished a statement. 
“Hellooo, anyone home in there?” He knocked gently on your skull. Ah, those big hands again. He watched the pink bloom across your cheeks, your hands coming to your ears to pull them down as your mind wandered off.  A snap of his fingers finally brought you back.
“Sorry, what?” Your eyes were bright as you finally made the journey all the way up to his face.
“Welcome back. I need some stuff picked up from a shop downtown. I can’t leave right now, mind hopping over for me?” The grin he offered you made you melt.
“Of course!” That damn tail shaking behind you, “What am I picking up?”
He waved his hand, “Not important, it’ll be all wrapped up and waiting.” The radio effect of his voice grew, “I’ll write down the address.”
Terrible handwriting. You could barely read it, but didn’t want to insult him so you just nodded as he followed you to the doors. Pausing, you realized it was your first time leaving the hotel alone. 
“What’s wrong? Not up to it?”
You shook your head, “No! I can do it. Thank you.”
A pounding in your chest made you question if you were actually dead. But despite your concerns, no one bothered you beyond some catcalling and intense glares. Staring at the paper, you struggled to decipher the address. Was that a 7 or a 1? A 4 or a 9…? You were in the general area, the street name lined up and the first couple numbers of the address too.
You brought the paper closer to your face, maybe if you really inspected it you could figure it out. 
A shriek, dropping the paper to felt a small goblin-like creature pushing at your knees. Another, then another, began to appear from the shadows of the street. Black and white little creatures pushing and pulling at your legs until you tumbled over.
“Help!” You thought it was a shout, but it came out as a soft spoken request, the tone itself adding a ‘please’ to the end. 
They weren’t hurting you, just knocking you over every time you tried to stand up like grade school bullies. You managed, the creatures relenting momentarily before a stockier one materialized. A step back, what did they want? Money? You pulled out your wallet and opened it but the large one smacked it to the ground. 
That quick heart skipped a beat when your back hit against something solid. As your head bent backwards, you could see those red and pink eyes looming over you. 
“Oh dear. Trouble already?” 
You could cry. You did cry, a little, at the sight of a familiar face. With a flourish of his hands, those previously unseen tendrils whipped from his back and flung the aimless attackers away. 
Rescue! You hugged his waist, a chorus of ‘thank yous’ and ‘Oh, Alastor!’ into his chest. 
“Now now, can’t even be a proper task rabbit. You really do need some safeguarding.” He peeled you off him, brushing his coat off. Your mind thought back to the offer. “And I don’t see my purchase… didn’t complete the task either?”
You shrunk, you’d entirely failed him. His smirk was one sided, eyes half lidded and expression dramatically disappointed. Alastor sighed and turned to walk away from you. You’d let him down. He’d been nothing but accommodating and gentle.
“I’m sorry! Alastor!” You grabbed his wrist, eyes shut so you didn’t see the green glow of arcane symbols floating up around him. “Can I please have that deal? Please. I’m sorry, you have my soul as payment.”
Painless, selling your soul. With a handshake, a little light show, and a whirling of magic, you had done it.
“Excellent choice!” Alastor patted your head, “I’ll come to your aid when you’re scared for your life! Aaaand in return, your soul is mine. Easy peasy, yes?”
Fine, not an issue in the slightest. “Do I need to do anything?”
“About what?” His eyes wandered to inspect his fingernails.
“My soul.”
A barking laugh, “No. You’re tied to me now, dear. As for my end, just call my name when you’re in danger and I’ll,” a flourish of his talons, “rescue you.” His smile strained as he peered down at your little face, “Why are you crying?”
“I’m so happy to have the help, thank you Alastor! You really are just, amazing. Your mother raised you right.” Your hands were holding your cheeks, grateful and feeling a little less alone.
The mention of his mother made his back straighten, a bloom in his chest he knew all too well to be pride. Finally, someone was vocalizing his better qualities. Well, other than Charlie. But impressing Charlie was like making a dog think you’d thrown a ball. Just a little quick whirl of your hands and a couple sweet words with a smile and she’d be all wagging tail as she ran to retrieve nothing. 
But he supposed you were very much like Charlie, easily tricked and distracted. Had you really not noticed those goons were his? Or that the address wasn’t real? Were you stupid or naive? His head fell to the side unnaturally as he watched you talk. He wasn’t listening, though. He took in your features, slight but average. His hand came out absentmindedly and felt at one of your long and limp ears. He didn’t see you blush or caught how you stiffened. 
Naive. Terribly naive.
Perfectly usable. 
He dropped your ear and turned to leave. “I won’t rescue you twice in one day. Best to follow me home if you value your life.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
You hadn’t told anyone about the deal, a secret for yourself to keep. Partly because you were embarrassed you needed the help, and partly because you had been warned extensively to not make a deal with the deer demon. Everyone had such a peculiar idea of Alastor, it seemed to you. Even after making a deal, he was still…Alastor. Always offering a joke, or playing something jaunty in the shared spaces. You could vent and whine and Alastor would hum as he read. Always offering a gentle pat to the head when you were sad or did something he liked. 
So when Alastor suddenly left the group in a sweat, hands shaking and body rocking slightly side to side, you were quick to follow behind him. He bumped off the walls a couple of times before making it to his room and falling forward past the threshold. 
You waited for the door to close before running down the hall and knocking. 
“Are you alright?” You pressed your cheek against the wood and listened for any reply. 
Alastor was still on the floor when you knocked, which worked out well. He leaned against the door, ears flat with his condition. He took a deep breath, voice dropping an octave and carrying easily to you, “Just— an out of season rut. Unexpected and unwelcome. Without any does nearby it’s quite odd.”
“Oh, are deer not like rabbits? Rabbit does are always in estrus! Mating actually triggers their ovulation. Neat, huh?” Silence, Alastor’s ears turned forward focusing on every other word.
Does, always, oestrus
Mating, triggers, ovulation 
“I had pet rabbits when I was little. Isn’t that funny though? That they’re also called does.” You worried he thought you were weirdly interested in rabbit sex. “We had them as pets. So….,” a silence you misinterpreted as awkward.
Alastor tapped a long claw on the door before dragging it down the wood. A line was etched behind, “Is that so?”
You knelt down to get comfortable, “How long will it last?”
“Ah, hard to say. I've only suffered through a few. Alone, perhaps a week.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“With an appropriate partner, a deer demon would rut for two days. One for mating with his doe, one for guarding his doe from rivals who could still interfere with conception.”
His doe. You both found your throat running dry at the words. 
You nodded, “Oh wow, I guess that’s why you always see bucks locked together in fights.”
“Precisely.”
“But...can sinners actually conceive?” You gulped, the idea was a little naughty to you. The entire conversation was actually making you uncomfortable. The kind of discomfort that made your breath pick up. The kind of discomfort that shifted to hunger with just a few words or a well placed look.
“No, but that doesn’t matter. Once fully in the hold of a rut or heat, demons aren’t motivated by logic.”
You nodded again, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Oh okay…” the idea of Alastor rutting into his own hand desperate to fill a womb made your knees come together. “Must be hard for you. As an asexual.”
A hum, confusion breaking his creeping fog for a second, “A sexual what?”
“Nevermind.” You shook your head, shaking off the topic with the motion.
Alastor could smell your arousal wafting under the door. A feverish chill ran through him, drawing the fog back into the recesses of his mind.
“Well… I’ll let you rest. I know you can’t call me, so I’ll stop by to see if you need anything.”
His mouth opened to correct you— he could call you in a sense, and he didn’t need help as he had minions he could summon with a snap. 
“That sounds lovely, what a helpful thing you are.” The words came out strained, his jaw tensing. How much longer could he hold out? The thinnest lie held in place that he’d suffer alone through the week. Already compromised by his errant shadow, flat against the carpet beneath your thighs. 
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Within hours Alastor was lying on the floor with his limbs splayed out. The sweating was the worst, not the heat. He could feel ticklish drops dripping down his stomach. His hair was sticking to his face, adding to the mounting overstimulation. Wet, hot, clothes clinging to his body like a second skin. A clawed hand pulled off his bow tie. His fingers shook too much to handle the tiny buttons of his shirt so he gave up and ripped it open. 
It fell into a pile with the bow tie and soon his pants and socks joined. Sitting up on his elbows he looked down at his underwear, he wasn’t hard yet but he knew the smallest touch could trigger what could be days of painfully swollen erections.
He fell back to the floor with a huff, hands raking through his hair and gripping his ears a little rougher than he’d meant to. A gasp, red tipped talons feeling down his ears and slipping around his already growing antlers.
Alastor’s eyes rolled back, strong hands squeezing his prongs, tugging them forward as he imagined anyone riding him. Using his appendages as a handle while he bucked up into them. His hips were already moving, lower back rising off the carpet as he rolled his body up into the imaginary mate he despised his desperation for. His mind flicked through faces. Husk’s pained but satisfied expression, Vox’s tears as he whined, Carmilla’s lusty eyes paired with surrendered sighs. He lingered briefly on Angel’s smirk as his hands roamed down his chest and his thighs in tandem. 
But through the darkness of his imagination he saw two watery and timid orbs, tears welling as eyebrows rose in confusion. Pleasure making the features soften. Soft. Soft velvet ears he could tug on in turn, a little bushy tail he could grip. 
A doe. 
The only doe he knew of in the hotel. 
The radio on the writing desk flipped through channels, piecing together the sounds to form the words he was trying to forget, a magazine ransom note cut from sound bites.
....out the windows
 ....always and forever, 
....in yesterday. 
....rusty cage 
May you never....
Hating how I....
....pull the trigger
....say you love me?
....congratulations 
The relevant sounds spiked in volume, mocking him. 
He walked to the radio and hurled it across the room. Aggression. Already he was losing himself to hellish biology. 
A minor part of him didn’t want to use you. You always looked at him with such adoration, which he’d come to look forward to when others weren’t giving him adequate attention. You also seemed to genuinely see him as a friend, as much as he didn’t directly feed that idea.
But using people was how the world worked. Everyone was using someone. You had said how much you wanted to help… Alastor leaned on the desk with both hands and watched the sweat fall onto the wood and leather writing surface.
How was his body leaking from every pore but his mouth was so dry?
His shadow reached for the thrown radio, the light flickering on. That dark doppelgänger using a song to offer another piece of torment for him, ‘you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine.’
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
You had been speaking to Husk about what you could do to help prepare the bar for the weekend when a green light began to form around your neck. 
“Did you— Did you make a deal with him?!” Husk dropped the dish rag, hands shooting to your shoulders, “Hold on! I’ll— fucking hell. Fuck!”
“Wait what’s wro-,” you were standing inside an unfamiliar room, just at the door, before you could figure out why Husk was panicking. Looking up, you locked eyes with Alastor. The room was dark, curtains drawn shut and ceiling lights off. A slight glow from a roaring blue fire to your left. His eyes were those familiar glowing red orbs in the darkness of his large canopy bed. “Oh, Alastor.” You finally noticed the third light source. A neon green large linked chain was wrapped around his fist. Following the squared interlocking pieces down the length of the bed, across the carpet and up as you looked down to find it ending on you.
Your hands touched your neck, feeling the cold metal of your collar. 
Alastor took a deep breath in, a shaky exhale following.
Oh. You’d heard from Angel how his deal with his boss often materialized as a series of smoke rings linked and attached to him. 
Before you could question it any further you were sliding across the floor, hands and feet struggling to find purchase as he reeled you toward the bed. Alastor lifted you by the glowing chain around your neck, evidence of the deal you so easily accepted.
“Can a deer breed a rabbit?” He mused, breath ragged as he struggled to remain in control of his impulses, “Doubtful. But I’ll give it my sincerest efforts, regardless.”
“Alastor-! You don’t want to do this, it’s just your rut.” You pulled back, legs kicking and piling up the blankets. It was fruitless. 
He laughed, incorporeal radio studio audience joining along. You couldn’t stop from glancing at the straining fabric of his black boxers. Setting a small hand on his chest to better attempt to push away you gasped, “You’re burning up!” The fear of the moment left you entirely, replaced with deep concern. 
He gripped your wrist with his free hand, not letting go of the chain in his right, “The fever is unbearable. My mind is slipping away.”
“Is this normal?!” Your hands came to his cheeks, his forehead, his neck. You remembered how your grandmother always checked your temperature, and pressed your lips to his sweat slicked brow. “You poor thing…”
When you pulled back you were met with the bright and blown out pupils of Alastor’s gaze. He was staring at your mouth, the green of his magical connection to you reflecting off his glossy eyes.
“Poor me.” He’d been sitting with loosely crossed legs but got on his knees. His face rose until he was looking down at you, hand now holding your chin, “You promised to help me.”
Your eyes were looking everywhere but his face. 
His hand on you tightened, cheeks squished together as he pulled your head up, “Are you a liar?” Of course not. His hand made your head shake left to right.
The trembling of your hands was obvious to you both. A cruel laugh, “Do I scare you, little bunny rabbit?”
In life you weren’t popular. No one hated you, but, well, you never had much luck attracting the men all the women seemed to want. No one of power or consequence ever paid you any mind.
Alastor was scary. But were you scared? Someone strong wanted you. Someone people feared was saying you were good enough for them.
Tears welled in your eyes as you felt your tail wiggling side to side. Your body always betrayed you. Your own death had been the doing of your body’s inability to listen to you. 
He couldn’t see the tail but the way your face screwed up in shame tipped him off. Letting go of your face, super heated finger pads slipped down your back. He slotted your tail between two fingers. There was no reason for it to be such an intimate action, but your entire body trembled.
Another deep sigh from Alastor, closing his fingers around the base and pulling gently. A test. Your head dropped to hide your reaction.
“Ah ah, eyes on me.”
He hummed happily as you did as you were told.
But the moment was cut short, you jumping when a rough knock came to the door.
“Alastor!” Vaggie was turning the knob despite knowing it was locked, “Is she in there? Open the fucking door.” A kick, a threat, “Now.”
“I’ll need your answer.” He leaned back onto the pillows piled behind him. Making a point, he lifted your chain and dropped it. It dissolved into nothingness before it could hit the bed.
“I’m here!” You said barely loud enough to be heard through the wooden door. Your eyes were drawn to Alastor’s lap as he pushed down his underwear to free his deep red cock.
His hand tenderly touched his base, hissing with the contact.
“For fuck’s sake Alastor!” Vaggie yelled, “You have three seconds to open this fucking door before I rip it off the hinges.”
Alastor’s head fell back with a moan, stifled as he bit down on his lip. 
“One!”
As his fingers slid up his length and touched his leaking slit his entire body violently shook.
“Two!”
He opened his eyes just barely. You hadn’t noticed the antlers on his head were quite a few times larger than normal. 
“I’m okay!” You shouted, the loudest noise you’d made since your death, but not the loudest you’d make by the end of the day.
Silence.
Mumbling.
 Vaggie spoke up again, “Are you sure? Come out and talk to us first.”
His hand began stroking himself, precum spilling down. Something soft and fuzzy was settling over the front of your brain.
You scooted backwards off the bed, eyes staying on his lap. The light color of his inner thighs. The little bit of red and black tail you could see squished down under his ass.
“Hello!” You opened the door just enough to shove your head through. “Hi there gang.”
Husk’s arms were crossed and his foot tapping, “Are you really okay? No matter the deal he can’t fucking make you stay in there with him.”
While you weren’t sure that was actually true, it wasn’t an issue, “I wanna stay! He needs someone to watch his fever and-,”
A brief rush of cool air up your shirt before a hot mouth was pressing into the small of your back.
Vaggie’s eyes narrows, “and?”
“And! And. Yes.” Your eyes shut, “and take care of cleaning up after him.”
They shared a glance, “He can just make his little creatures do it.”
A surprisingly long tongue ran up your spine.
“Oh my god.”
“What?”
“Oh my god! No! I couldn’t let my friend,” you sucked your bottom lip in as his hands wrapped around your waist and undid the button of your pants, “rely on strangers.”
Husk sighed, “Alright, just… like, call us or something? If you need anything.”
You began to nod but the door was shut and locked by Alastor before you could reply.
₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊
Your face hit the wall as you lost balance when he pulled down your pants and panties with one yank and buried his face into your crotch. His tongue licked at the wetness pooled at your entrance.
Any moans would probably still have been heard by the other two so you tried to keep quiet. Alastor didn’t seem to care though, growling into your skin.
The fever seemed it would spread skin to skin, but when he pulled away you found your body quickly cooling. Taking a moment to breath before turning back, you wondered if you’d made a great decision or a terrible one. When you turned, Alastor was settling back into his previous spot. ��I could rip the rest off of you or you could undress yourself.” He wasn’t looking at you as he said it. You made quick work of removing your shirt and returning to the bed as you had before.
"Turn around."
You turned to face the door.
"On your hands and knees."
You paused briefly, but did so.
As you bent over, little tail high and trembling, Alastor’s clawed thumbs spread open your bottom lips. Perhaps it was embarrassment or just the nerves but you were twitching open and close.
You heard a low “Fuck” before the feeling of heat dripping onto you made you jerk forward. One of his hands came to your shoulder to hold you in place, the other kept your hole open as his seed continued to dribble down onto it.
He hadn’t been trying to cum, but his body was already responding to the opportunity before it; a breedable and submissive doe.  His cock trigger-happy at the sight of your pussy, inside pink and clenching.
A tiny yelp as he fell over you, joining you in an all fours position but larger body caging yours between his limbs. He laughed again when the back of your head hit him square in the chest. 
“You are uselessly small.” His body rumbled over you. “Clever girl to make a deal for protection.” 
A burning stiffness slid down your folds. You could feel from even how little contact he made he was too big. Was it a bad time to tell him you’d only had the one partner on earth? A rather boring but sufficient sex life. If Alastor was hoping for a sex kitten he’d be deeply disappointed in you.
He hummed imagining dropping his weight and feeling you fruitlessly squirm under him. 
“Mating triggers ovulation, I recall you said. I just need to fuck you into it, right sweetheart? Maybe if I do a good enough job,” his hands gripped the flesh of your ass, “your body will actually respond. Your belly will swell with the evidence of my virility.” Both hands slipped down your hips and came to nestle above your womb, tenderly caressing the protective layer of fat there, “could your little form handle it?” Little form? Not quite. But to him everyone was little. Claws leaving faint red marks as he dragged them up your ribs, around your sides and pressed your back down to get your chest into the bed and ass in the air.
A squeak, your legs flailing with what little motion they had as you turned your head, “Well that’s for actual rabbits not--.”
His hand came over your mouth, “Shhh, there's safety in the quiet. Don’t you know? We’re most vulnerable when we mate.” On the utterance of the word you’d been avoiding to even think about Alastor’s still hard cock squeezed its way into you. Your body was willing, but your pussy wasn’t ready to accommodate him. Not that your living partner had been small, but he wasn’t a seven foot tall rutting deer demon. And with height came a girth and length you’d not anticipated. You had seen it, yes, but that didn’t translate to much once Alastor was entering you.
His hips were snapping back as soon as he sank in. It frustrated him endlessly that he wasn’t trying to fuck you with such a lack of control. He couldn’t have been sure he’d have done it any differently had the circumstances been changed, but he liked to think he’d  retained some skills over the long years alone.
The way he whined made him sound like a weak man, which he was in that moment. You wanted to call out his name, do the things you were used to doing during sex, but his hand was still over your mouth.
As if he heard your thoughts, his fingers spread open over your lips. Pinky under your chin to keep his hold on you. 
“Alastor,” the tenor of your voice surprised you.
“Stick out your tongue.” He sounded far away, despite being right behind you. When you did as he instructed his hand shifted. Two long fingers went into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. Immediately his fingers and your chin was dripping with drool. He whined again, louder, the noise growing into a growl as his speed began to pick up. 
You could feel the thin flesh at the bottom of your entrance stinging as it was failing to stretch enough for him. It would have bothered you more but the way his burningly hot cock's head was pressing into your cervix was making your eyes lose focus. 
Without ceremony, you felt a rush of heat deep in you. Your shins lifted from the bed as you squirmed, weak attempts to escape the deep press.
His hand left your mouth and you felt it working on the base of his cock that was not yet in you. He mumbled something, it sounded like an apology, before you felt him pop the rest of himself in. You choked on your scream, not knowing what he had put in you. 
It throbbed, new and stronger spurts of his seed felt against an indescribable place. 
A brave hand reached between your thighs and felt at the space between your bodies—- well, would have felt at that space. But there was none. You were flush against his lap. Your fingers slid down to feel taut balls pulled up into his body. 
He shivered as you traced between them, checking neither were …  inside you. 
“I should have warned you, but my ability to speak wasn’t—,” he waved his hand around, “available.” You tried to pull away but found you both were locked together. “A knot. Not an accurate representation of a deer… and technically useless.”
That word meant nothing to you. “Is it normal?”
His thumb pressed at the virgin tight ring of muscle just above your pussy, you instinctively jerked away but just made yourself gasp as that large knot in you threatened to further tear you if you kept it up. “I don’t normally do it so early in a mated rut.”
You surrendered, trying to relax your upper body into the bed. “How do we get it out?”
A mocking chuckle, “It’ll deflate, so to speak, in a couple minutes. It’s just keeping my little doe in place while I finish filling her up.” He patted your ass. 
It was mortifying to be suck in that position.
“Have you ever used this hole?” He rubbed some of your wetness up to your asshole. 
 Your tail lifted, “My boyfriend didn’t like anal.”
Alastor massaged around the puckered ring, “I didn’t ask if he used his.” Your head turned to look at him, shaking it ‘no’. You noticed his face looked less strained now, and that his finger didn’t feel like a fire was just under his skin. “Ah, well. I won’t need it today anyway.”
He didn’t see the bright blush that came over your face. He spoke so easily about the topic, a topic you’d never heard him speak on before. One you’d been told he had no interest in.
An error you made, assuming a lack of interest meant a lack of knowledge or experience. 
When he finally could pull himself out of you, you felt a rush of warmth down your inner thighs. Looking under you, past your chest and between your legs, you saw the thick white semen escaping from your stretched entrance. 
You’d never seen such an opaque release before. You wondered if it was a hint at his…potency. You wondered more what was happening in your body at that moment. 
“Will it come out on its own or do I need to clean it?” Finally sitting up, your fingers felt the mess still dripping out of you. 
Alastor leaned back onto his legs, ears turning in your direction as you asked, “Is this your first time? Your little boyfriend never finished in you?”
Crossing your arms, you turned to him, “Don’t be patronizing to him. And no, okay?”
He felt the heat rising from his gut again, cock twitching at every bit of the scene before him. Insolent body language, an attempt to scold him, and an admission. You watched him sit back up, a sudden reminder how much taller he was as darkened eyes looked down on you. The blue of the fire cast half of his face in shadows. “What’s this? My obedient doe wants to defend another man in my bed?” 
Your hands nervously came to the ends of your ears, “I didn’t mean it like that.” A finger twirled, telling you to turn around. You hesitated. Did he want you to leave? He didn’t want to look at you? You hadn’t—, “I’m sorry.” 
With a blink, his eyes were black.  His fingers longer as parts of him seems to stretch between the joints. He twirled them again as his smile grew wicked.
Desperate to show him you hadn’t wanted to upset him, that you wanted to stay, you turned around. The fear of not knowing what he would do next was sending waves of electricity to your lap. You realized you hadn’t touched yourself yet, not that this was the time to start. 
One by one, those freakishly long fingers curled around the small of your waist and lifted you off the bed. The tops of your feet were sliding across the dark maroon blankets beneath you both.
Your heart was pounding in your ears as he pulled you against him. He positioned you above his renewed erection, your legs opening a little in instinct. 
Grateful now to be turned around, you let your face run the full range of feelings as they washed over you. Fear, arousal, anticipation.
“What a wasteful man.” He brought you down with a painfully slow speed, head just now meeting your sticky wet hole. “He never flooded your soft cunt?” He pressed in a little easier this time, but as you sank to take him all in you felt a sting where you’d slightly torn earlier. “When he dies, I’ll be sure to find him.” Cruel. “And make him watch me breed you.” You clenched, yet another betrayal by your body. 
You were reduced to gasps as he stayed stock still and moved you on and off his cock. “Am I bigger than he is?” You could feel his breath against your back as you were lifted and brought back down again slowly. 
You nodded. A terrible liar, you didn’t even try to fib.
He stopped with his head barely in you.
A squirm.
“I’m sure I just didn’t hear you. Try again.”
“Yes.” You were full again as he got his answer. A creaking sound you didn’t recognize startled you.
“Do I fuck you better than him?”
Ah you understood. Your hands held at his fingers digging into your body. “Yes.” Another creaking sound as he quickened your rise and fall.
Alastor’s antlers were wide and multi-pronged as your affirmations jostled around behind his eyes. Your ‘yes’ somehow made you tighter, wetter, hotter around him. His hips started moving again to meet yours. Perhaps he his dick grown a little during his shift to a more demonic form, or maybe you enjoyed the line of questions. All he knew was you were squeezing him like your body didn’t want him to ever pull out again.
Blood dripped from his lips as he cut his own skin, through gritted teeth a final question, “Do you want my fawns?”
Your legs pressed together, you knew there was only one answer and yet you asked yourself. Did you want that? To carry his children? A moan cut through your thinking, “Yes!”
The fire roared, a response to his own reaction.
Alastor felt his mind slip under again, noticing the wild way his shadow was dancing around the walls before his senses all dulled except touch.
The bed drifted away from under his knees and the walls melted like spent candles. Just sounds echoing off space as your moans deepened. As if learning, you began to whisper ‘yes’ to yourself as you felt a building pressure in your stomach. 
Every thrust into you further separated your brain from your body. Your eyes lost focus as you watched the door bounce. No, wait, you were bouncing, right? Bouncing up and down the stiff rail of Alastor’s arousal. Your head fell forward, gasping as you felt him harden further while buried deep in you. He was going to cum again, you could feel it, you would feel it. The thought made your body shake as a pressure grew steadily in you. 
Not a new sensation, but a different one. 
“Louder,” another thinly veiled demand from Alastor that seemed to come from somewhere else entirely. Your eyes noticed a small light on the floor near the wall. A radio, buzzing with the same crackle as his voice.
“Yes,” you ground out, his hands were slippery with sweat as his nails dug in to ensure he didn’t lose his grip on you. “Yes, yes, yes.” He brought you down entirely and only let you off a little, an unspoken fear he would release too close to your entrance and he’d lose precious seed he needed your body to receive. “Yes! Alastor!” You weren’t sure who was talking now, as it surely couldn’t be you. You’d never —
“You’re better than him. You’re bigger and stronger and and he never —- he could never…”
He was suddenly regretting the position, unable to watch you fall apart as he so lovingly spread you open. 
With a shriek, your back crashed into his chest as Alastor fell backward into his pillows. He didn’t miss a beat. He continued fucking up into you but let one hand reach your clit. When you whined, he breathed into your hair, “I need you to orgasm.” Other hand pressing down on your womb, “Many cultures believed a woman couldn’t get pregnant without finding her release first. Surely it’ll take. Cum for me my doe.”
You shook your head, “Alastor that isn’t possible.” Not that you were arguing against the way his finger was rubbing up and down on your swollen clit, you just felt the need to remind him of the obvious. Your eyes wandered up and back to see the hauntingly wide antlers now. His transformed face barely visible in the shadows.
“I thought you were a good girl.” His mouth kissed at the base of your ears, hand over your womb pressing in and exaggerating the feeling of his cock bulging from under your skin. “Darling,” he groaned, “Are you ready for my knot?”
You moaned at the words. No, of course not. 
“Yes,” you got quiet, embarrassed again. Your hand snaked up and behind to hold his shoulder for stability. 
“Relax,” he hissed, feeling your body tensing in anticipation.
You tried your best, but between his strumming finger and the sting still at your entrance you struggled to let things go limp.
This time you felt it growing beneath you. Alastor was ready as well, pushing it in before it was swollen so large he’d have to force it or just suffer with it outside.
Lubricated with the multiple loads already fucked into and then out of you, the knot pushed past your entrance with ease. But then you felt it expanding in you. Eyes crossing as they rolled back with the foreign sensation. It didn’t hurt, but a little alarm was going off in the back of your brain. How could something natural feel so unnatural? And how—
Your body locked up, muscles from thighs to neck tight. Alastor’s finger hadn’t stopped, and as the second knotted release flooded you with his feverish need, as his knot trapped every drop and forced it up past your cervix you tripped into your first orgasm. Different from your own hand and toys, the build up hadn’t been a slow ratcheting climb. No, you were rolling through waves of nearly pained pleasure. The spasming forced your body to feel him even more, pulling him deeper, triggering another wave to crash into you.
Alastor wanted to praise you, a rush of hormones and ego expanding his chest but the sensations had him so overwhelmed he was manually breathing. His hand didn’t want to stop, because then the way your pussy was positively sucking him in would also end. But your little cries and moans got increasingly choked and strained.
The calm briefly offered by knotting a mate during his rut came to your rescue, Alastor dragging a still barely moving finger up your body and going slack into the pillows.
Deep breaths, both of you fighting to slow them down. Alastor was experiencing another moment of clarity, only slightly upset he had doled out so much tenderness.
But for you, there was no deep fog of a heat to numb the sensations and let the more bothersome bits of consciousness turn off. Your mind was just as clear as normal. A little lusty, but nowhere near Alastor’s altered state. As you laid against his chest, waiting for him to be able to pull out, you could feel the pains and aches setting in.
Alastor summoned a minion, food set down on his desk under a silver cloche. Your eyes caught the black and white creature before it was whisked away.
Sitting up, you flinched but fought against the pain, “Alastor. What was that?”
His hands pulled you back down by the shoulders, skin on skin, “My minion. One of many.” 
 Exhausted, you could only sigh, “So, the errand.”
His hands went up defensively, “Oh come now, did you really think I was the good guy?” You didn’t reply. The silence began to bother him. Odd, given he usually didn’t give a fuck.
But he’d asked a lot of you, and you agreed willingly. You did as you were told. A little twinge of concern he had actually upset you wiggled between his ribs.
His hands slipped down your waist and settled over your stomach, “…Are you hungry? If you stay like this, I can help you eat.” You took a deep breath in, but didn’t even move to look at him. He squirmed ever so slightly, “I can only assume you’re… quite sore. Perhaps a bath? But I can’t guarantee we’ll make it out much cleaner than we are now.” His smile was smaller, just lips; no teeth. As his antlers withdrew and his limbs all returned to their proper places he could turn his head enough to look at your face.
Alastor felt relief wash over him to see you deeply asleep in his arms. It wasn’t a bad idea, to sleep before the next spell hit him and he was too far gone to think about baths or meals.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Alastor awoke in the dark. He found his hands and ankles tied behind his back, his body naked and sweating. He was on fire, pieces of himself lifting in the hot breeze and blowing away. He could feel his body fragmenting. You were just a little ways away and he tried desperately to reach out to you but as his eyes adjusted you were suddenly too far. If he could just get you to take a single piece of him, a shard of himself, he would live still. Even when the rest of him was dead and gone, he’d be alive in your hands. A raging stress, the fire now reaching his bones. It wasn’t too late. He still had time. Just a sliver of his existence was all he needed to get to you.
When you woke up, your body was at the foot of the bed. Looking over you saw Alastor lazily stroking his painfully hard erection. His gaze downcast, vision cloudy with unmet needs.
“Alastor?” With shaky arms you lifted yourself. You were hot. Was it the fire? No, before it had no heat. A little damp outline into the comforter formed where your body had been. 
“You’re awake.” He reached over and grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him and rolling you onto your back. Hand still around your ankle, he pulled your leg against his chest.
“Alastor.”
He sunk into you without hesitation, hips rolling into you roughly. Your body was rocking against the bed, wood creaking against wood with the steady force of his thrusts.
It felt good. Better than before, your walls felt soft and puffy around him. Alastor’s head was low, groaning every time he bottomed out. You could see just enough past him to watch the bed canopy swaying above you both before he folded you in half and leaned fully over you.
His eyes were unfocused like his mind, staring into the bed. A large palm at either side of your head, his back curved as he angled his hips to reach deeper yet.
“I’m so hot.” You were struggling to get the words out. It felt so good, the deeper in you he reached the more you seemed to be melting away.
Your hips were lifted off the mattress, held up entirely by his cock as he continued to rut into you. He could feel the fever in you rising. 
Bent and tangled together, his head was nearly above yours. He was sweating, hair stuck down and ears folded back. A bead fell from his cheek and hit your forehead. He was working so hard. Such a strong man. A strong buck. 
Something in you snapped. Something twisted and burned in your belly. You brought the other leg up to let yourself be folded in half completely, and his eyes wandered to your face. Your frontal cortex was just static as the lights were shutting off in most parts of your more human faculties. 
Everything got quiet in you, a deep seated feeling of security creeping up your legs and sinking into your bones. With Alastor in you, nothing bad could happen to you. If you were carrying his offspring you’d be guaranteed a new level of protection. You needed it. You wouldn’t survive if you weren’t fucked and bred by the overlord. 
How could your body be wrong when the feeling was so natural? So intensely confident?
“Alastor!” Your nails dug into biceps, hands clamoring up his arms to cling onto him, “breed me, please.” 
He was caught alight, mind on ablaze with his raging fever. Your plea was a magnifying glass concentrating the sun into him and sparking a wildlife. Alastor was defenseless against the way your words affected him. 
He could feel it, he could smell it, your heat triggered finally. His lips caught yours as his hands slipped up the blanket with how he had to contort to reach your mouth. You moaned into him, teeth on teeth as neither of you had any ability to finesse things.
“On your knees,” he instructed. You scrambled to turn around as he briefly left your body. A desperate whine in the seconds that stretched on, the emptiness unbearable. It hurt to have him anywhere but balls deep in you.
His hands slipped around your tail that still tried to swish side to side. When he tugged you gasped, the closest sensation you had was having your hair pulled. Chills ran up your spine. You nearly fell forward, but a strong hand wrapped around your neck and pulled your head back. He lined up, adjusting his legs wider to get down to your level.
“Are you feeling it?” He nipped at your shoulder, “Your heat?”
You pushed your ass back and pressed his tip into you. The sound that tore through your chest was answer enough for him as you tried your best to move along his length all on your own.
“You’re okay,” he squeezed lightly around your neck, pussy twitching around him as lightning snapped through you. “I’ll take care of you.”
Words that made your head spin. His body on yours felt like security. Everywhere his skin touched yours was a gulp of cold water in a drought.
A cliche, as he began to move again and his cock hit your g-spot every couple thrusts, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. His fever was matched to yours, no heat exchanged as warm and wet flesh moved around warm and wet flesh. Was that your hand or his on your stomach? Both were searing, both soft and slick. One of your hands was reaching down to hold his arm for support.
Eyes slipping shut, you imagined this was what being high felt like. You were out of your body entirely, feeling his dick slipping in and out of you from a different plane of existence. There was a sense your mouth was moving but no awareness of what you were saying. Truly just babbling as Alastor’s speed hitched. A clawed hand on your hip cut into you as he pressed deeper with every thrust.
He guided you down onto your stomach, hand now resting on your right shoulder to keep you in place. You were entirely flat, his knees parting your legs so he could get flush against your core. 
His knot was in place as he began to swell. You felt it again, him flooding your womb as he released directly into your twitching cervix. A euphoria filled you so totally you were sure you could feel the cells of your body humming.
Like a cool breeze had blown down, your fevers broke nearly immediately.
“Oh,” you squeaked, Alastor’s hand releasing you as he lied on top of you. The weight of him was oddly arousing as it gave a clear comparison of your smaller size. “I think you’re right. Estrus.”
He nodded, rolling you both onto your sides, “Would you like the good news or bad news first?”
Resting your head on his extended arm, you tried getting comfortable despite the sticky feeling of your skin and the burning in your thighs, “bad news.”
“You won’t be walking straight for days.” He said it with a heavy tone of pride.
“Oh geez…,” you could feel his knot still throbbing between your hips, “The good news?”
“Your heat is going to make me even more desperate to fill you,” his free hand ran down your sides and slipped between your legs to feel where you two were connected. 
You turned your head the best you could, “That’s not good news, Alastor!”
He laughed, “I lied. Oh well!”
While the good news had been a lie, the way your body’s shift into meeting Alastor’s instincts upped his feral responses was not.  You nibbled on fruit and bread and cured meats in the small windows the clouds around your humanity parted.
But when they’d roll back in, a tempest of feral wants crashing into you both, you’d find yourself clinging to the deer demon.
You could have had an apple in one hand and be mid bite when his musk would reach you and your grip would loosen. With just a moan and a lifting of your hips Alastor would be dragging you closer, crawling over your body, mounting you wherever you two happened to be.
It wasn’t that you’d become confident by the end of the day, but that you’d lost all semblance of shame and embarrassment.
When Alastor pulled you onto his lap and placed your hands on his peach fuzz covered antlers, you didn’t need verbal instructions. It took all of your arm span to reach them, so you held tightly as he thrust up into you. None of his noises had been as intoxicating as the ones he made when you were leaning over him and squeezing his prongs with every jostle of your womb. Perhaps he’d lost his shame too, loud and long moans the other residents had to have heard spilling from his open mouth. 
The wet slap of your ass coming back down onto his thighs as he bounced you was barely registered. Head hung low to meet his black engulfed eyes, you didn’t notice his smile was gone for the first time since you’d met him. Pinhole red pupils were locked on your face and imperceptibly roamed around your lust filled expression. 
One hand reached up and rubbed the soft skin of your downturn rabbit’s ears between his thumb and index finger. Soft. Velvet. 
A sensation that was wholly pleasant, not sexual in any nature but feeding the comfort provided by Alastor’s cock buried to the hilt. He wanted to enjoy the smile it gave you but he could feel his orgasm climbing exponentially.
There it was again, the darkness of your combined heat and rut slinking in. Body to body, your own sounds harmonizing with his and losing distinction. “Alastor–,” eyes drifting shut, “Please. I feel empty.” His previous loads dripping down your thighs, then down his own, and soaking into the carpet. “Fill me up. Please, can you breed me?”
His hand pulled down on your ear, “That was never in question.”
You let go of his extended prongs, arching your back to take a kiss. More. His tongue in your mouth, another hole full of Alastor. His hands both reunited on your ass and used the flesh there like handles. He fucked up into you, withholding the growing at his base, until he felt you cumming around him again. As your body sucked him in with rolling spasms, he pressed you down on his upthrust. A pained moan as it was pushed in a little late. 
Lightning behind your eyelids, your mouths hanging open and pressed together. 
Both of you a pile on the floor, a cold blue flame and soft music playing from the still broken radio. Uncharacteristically, Alastor’s arms wrapped around your smaller form and clung to you. The sensations were popping up one by one. Sticky skin, sweat rolling down your face, hair sticking to your neck and forehead. You’d have to peel each other apart. Which you did, eventually. When Alastor could pull out, he followed through on the bath he’d been thinking about. 
You protested, reminding him you’d be soaking the floor with displaced bath water as soon as the next urge to mate came around. But he laughed, smile back in place as if it had never left, “Sweetheart if I do my job right you won’t even realize you’re not in bed until you’re knotted and knocked up.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
He hadn’t been lying about the protective second day. But what he hadn’t anticipated was just how long that aggressive desire to keep others at a distance from you would last. While your deal had been in place for a little while before his rut, it wasn’t until after your time together in his room that it seemed to ever be used. 
But you didn’t need to call out for him, like he had said. No, anytime someone even looked at you with a nasty thought, you were graced with his presence. Most people figured it out quickly enough, but occasionally new and brave idiots would approach you with trouble. 
So when a tall and imposing creature cornered you in a shop, hand holding something sharp and shiny and asked, “Scared, little hare?", you could only smile as your face was lit up by a green glow and offer a little advice, “No, but you should be.” ˗ˏˋ Masterlist ˎˊ˗
˖  ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei ,  @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog  , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima a , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies
, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf ,  , @fizzled-phoenix ,  @phobophobular  , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo    , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk   , @bontensbabygirl 
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lavnderwonu · 19 hours
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first time | kim mingyu
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pairing: bf!mingyu x virgin!fem!reader
genre: smut, established relationship
summary: your first time having sex with your boyfriend.
word count: 1.1k
warnings: contains smut (!!!), loss of virginity, inexperienced reader, experienced mingyu, fingering, clit stimulation, masturbation, size kink, oral sex (f receiving), mingyu is a sweetheart <3, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare.
author’s note!: inspired by this specific ask lol. i have been pondering this in my head for a minute, and i decided to just bring it to life. if this topic/genre isn’t your cup of tea, don’t read it, go read some of my other works. feedback is always appreciated, enjoy! 💞
p.s. we're lucky this made it out of the drafts
to be added to my taglist, click here!
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“Are you sure you want to do this?”
Mingyu gently asks, gazing down at you as his hands are at the hem of your t-shirt.
He’s stopped himself from pulling it off, patiently awaiting your permission.
Mingyu was always patient with you, more so than you thought you deserved. He never wanted to rush you into something you weren’t ready for, especially when you were open with him and told him you’d never had sex before.
All your friends thought it was a mistake to tell him that, and that he’d find any excuse to leave, especially since they couldn’t believe that a guy like him could want to be with an in-experienced girl like you, and that he’d want somebody who basically…knew what to do with him.
But he never did, and he patiently waited for you.
Now here you are, lying on his bed as he’s towering over you, his hands slowly sliding up your shirt.
“…I need to hear you say it.” Mingyu continues.
You brush his hair back off his forehead, kissing him gently. “Yes, Mingyu…” You can’t help but giggle as you can’t believe how sweet he’s being.
He undresses you carefully, kissing all over your body gently.
Mingyu gently trails kisses down your stomach, stopping when he reaches the waist of your underwear. He tugs on the waistband as you lift your hips for him to take them off.
He takes in the sight of you; already nearly dripping wet for him when all he did was kiss you.
“Do you touch yourself, baby?” Mingyu asks you, his gaze lifting up from your soaking core.
“Uh-huh…” You nod, suddenly feeling lightheaded as he’s now watching your every move.
“Show me, baby.” He smirks, clearly amused.
“Go ahead.”
You bring your fingers down to your clit, circling it a few times, the sense of relief making your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you dip your fingers between your folds to gather more wetness, bringing them back up to your clit.
Mingyu’s gaze fixates on your core, until it tears away when you call out his name.
“Mingyu…” You whine, as you shamelessly rock your hips against your hand.
“What, baby?” Mingyu licks his lips as he watches you. 
“Touch me,” You beg, leaning your head back against his pillow, while already feeling so eager to know what he feels like. “Please.”
Saving teasing you for another time, since you’re begging for him and he can’t resist, his fingers replace yours and holy shit is it so much better.
You moan against his lip as he kisses you fervently, before he’s climbing down your body until he’s settling himself between your parted thighs.
Your heart pounds in anticipation, his hands gentle as he pushes your thighs further apart for him. 
“So pretty…” He mumbles as he eyes your soaking wet core in front of him. “Can’t believe you’ve never done this before…”
You almost want to kick him as if to say get on with it already, but before you can even think, he’s nudging his face between your thighs. 
His tongue slides over your clit, and the feeling makes you throw your head back.
“Fuck…” You let out a shaky cry, as you reach out and tangle your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly as you’re desperate for something to hold.
Mingyu groans against your cunt as you let out the prettiest sounds, wanting to hear more from you, he slides two fingers inside you, feeling your walls stretch around his fingers.
“Shit… Mingyu,” You gasp, arching your back off the bed as your hips grind against his hand as his fingers slowly fuck you. His fingers stretching you open almost hurts, but it feels too good all at the same time.
In perfect timing he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit just as he curls his fingers, perfectly hitting a spot that nearly has you seeing stars. With a loud cry of his name, your legs lock as an orgasm suddenly overtakes you.
Mingyu pulls back just as your head falls back against his pillow, your neck lightly covered in a sheen of sweat. You’re still catching your breath when Mingyu hovers over you again, kissing your forehead gently. 
“Ready, baby?” He asks, as he’s ridding himself of his Calvin Klein boxers, making your attention draw to his cock; the mere size nearly takes your breath away. 
“You can tell me to stop anytime… okay?”
“Okay.” You breathe out in anticipation, eager to finally know what he feels like.
Mingyu gently pushes your thighs apart, slowly running his cock through your folds to wet himself with your arousal. He inadvertently bumps your clit, making you whimper and grip the sheets in your fist. 
He lines himself up with your entrance, shuddering in pleasure when he finally sinks into you, making you gasp.
“Mingyu…” You whine as he’s stretching you open, making you grab onto his sturdy shoulders to ground yourself. “Fuck, you’re so big.”
Mingyu leans down to gently kiss your jaw, leading down your neck to distract you. “You’re taking me so well, baby. Fuck.” He groans as he finally bottoms out.
His thrusts start off slow and shallow at first, letting you get used to him. You’re squeezing his cock so tight that Mingyu feels the need to ravage you, but he’d save that for another time.
He gradually picks up the pace, as he shifts his hips slightly, making his cock drive right into your sweet spot, making you arch your back and push your chest against him.
You moan loudly as your nails dig into his biceps, making Mingyu groan as your walls clench him.
“Gonna cum already, baby?” Mingyu smirks, breathing so heavily you can feel his hot breathe on your neck.
“Yeah…” You whine, nodding furiously. Your mind is far too clouded with the feeling of his cock inside you to put together any other words.
“Go on baby, come for me.” Mingyu grunts, his fingers moving to rub circles on your clit, making you whimper. “C’mon.”
Your legs shake as you come with a loud cry of his name, Mingyu keeps going until he’s coming too, slowly rolling his hips to fuck you through your high.
It’s amazing how quick his demeanor changes, he’s immediately peppering kisses gently on your face, his puppy-eyes searching your face for any sign of discomfort.
“Was that okay?” He wonders. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No, no,” You reassure him, and he’s relieved as you throw your arms over his shoulders to gently play with his hair. “That was amazing.”
He gently rolls you over so he can pull you on top of him, basking in the feeling of your weight on top of him.
“We should do that again…” You hint, your fingers toying with his necklace.
“Do you want to?” Mingyu chuckles. You already can’t get enough of him.
“Maybe,” You snuggle into his chest, sighing contentedly. “I kind of wanna stay like this for a while.”
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tags!: @cosmojinyoung @wonuwrites @dearlyjun
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babydollmarauders · 2 days
Text
TWIN HUGHES — LUKE HUGHES
part of the luke’s gf au !
dolly.notparton
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liked by lhughes_06, jackhughes, and 56,827 others
dolly.notparton life the past 9 months…. thank you for sharing your birthday @/jackhughes 🤍 pretty sweet of you
Comments on this post are limited
jackhughes not like i had a choice, the twins were coming out whether i wanted to share a birthday or not
dolly.notparton i spent the last 9 months of my life making your presents, you could at least act thankful!
jackhughes do they come with a receipt?
dolly.notparton THATS YOUR NIECE AND NEPHEW YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT, YOU UNGRATEFUL SWINE!
jackhughes wtf is a swine?
dolly.notparton god you should’ve gone to college
dylanduke25 TWIN! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!
dolly.notparton oh my god, they can say that and MEAN IT! DYLAN YOURE A GENIUS!
edwards.73 i don’t think anyone has ever said that about duker and meant it
dolly.notparton @/edwards.73 be nice to my dyl pickle
edwards.73 i’d be a lot nicer if you didn’t give me ammo by calling him things like “dyl pickle”
lhughes_06 so grateful for this little family we’ve created ❤️
dolly.notparton i l*ve you <3
lhughes_06 did you just censor the word “love”?
dolly.notparton maybe you would get the uncensored version if you hadn’t left your extremely pregnant girlfriend for hockey? idk, just a thought
jackhughes get him dolly!
lhughes_06 @/jackhughes stay out of this
_quinnhughes dolly and her dolls 🩷💙 i’m so happy for you guys. i know you’ll make amazing parents
dolly.notparton quinny, i love you tremendously. hurry up and finish in the playoffs so you can meet your niece and nephew 🤍
_quinnhughes i love you too but i’m not “hurrying” anything, i’ve got the cup in mind
dolly.notparton so you hate me and my children
_quinnhughes that’s not at all what i just said
dolly.notparton i can guarantee that’s exactly what you just said
lhughes_06 please don’t fight her on this, she’s tired and just pushed out two babies and i know she’ll find a way to be angry at me about this too
_quinnhughes @/lhughes_06 so i should fight her on this? heard. @/dolly.notparton check your texts
elblue6 my babies and my grandbabies 💗
dolly.notparton love you mama el!! can’t wait for you to come see the twins!
curtislazar95 god help us, they’re multiplying
dolly.notparton maybe i’ll make a whole hockey team of them
curtislazar95 20 sarcastic poodle haired bambi skaters with insatiable appetites
john.marino97 congratulations, guys! i’m happy to hear it was a happy and healthy birth story
dolly.notparton they’ll love their uncle johnny because he’s a twin just like them 🤍
john.marino97 i can teach them all about being a twin
lhughes_06
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liked by njdevils, nhl, and 64,291 others
lhughes_06 Milo Oliver Hughes; May 14th 2024, 3:16pm
Luella Grace Hughes; May 14th 2024, 3:20pm
tagged dolly.notparton
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dolly.notparton we made those
lhughes_06 fuck yeah we did! we did fantastic!
dolly.notparton and jack tries to say i can’t cook!
jackhughes because you can’t. you burned water. HOW DO YOU BURN WATER?
dolly.notparton @/jackhughes do you see what i cooked up inside of me?! you cried when you saw them!
jackhughes that was between us!
dolly.notparton @/jackhughes and now it’s between us and luke’s 185k followers and probably all of twitter! 🫶
user72 ARE YOU TELLING ME SHE’S BEEN PREGNANT FOR NINE MONTHS AND NONE OF US NOTICED?!
user93 OH MY GOD! LUKE’S A DILF
liked by dolly.notparton
markestapa SHOW ME THE BABIES!
lhughes_06 if you’d check the groupchat for once, you’d see the babies
markestapa oh
markestapa OH THEY’RE SO CUTE! YOU GUYS DID GOOD
lhughes_06 thanks stop sign! 🛑
edwards.73 congrats guys 🤝
lhughes_06 thanks eds 🤝
dolly.notparton this is a birth announcement not a damn frat party photo dump, you guys could add some hearts or at least a damn smiley face!
edwards.73 @/dolly.notparton no 🤝
dawson1417 congratulations! can’t wait to meet them next season!
njdevils gift basket coming your way! 👀congratulations!
user20 TWINS 🥹🫶
rutgermcgroarty swimmers be swimming
lhughes_06 🏊‍♂️🏊‍♂️
dolly.notparton do guys think or do they just do?
user85 so not only is luke the youngest hughes brother, but he’s also the only one in a long-term relationship and the first one to have kids… jack and quinn better step it up
user03 they kept this a secret for nine months and then really just pulled a “SURPRISE!” on us?! he played hockey all the way up until the birth— they dropped NO hints
nhl congratulations luke and y/n!
_quinnhughes proud of you two and how much you’ve grown ❤️ not little kids chasing each other around with bugs and porcelain dolls anymore, are ya?
lhughes_06 nope, all grown up. in the league with 2 kids now! thanks bro
dolly.notparton not my fault he was scared of my dolls! have i mentioned that he made me get rid of them when i moved in?
_quinnhughes @/dolly.notparton once or twice a day, yeah
dolly.notparton those were my babies 💔
lhughes_06 @/dolly.notparton i just gave you 2 new babies… the real kind
dolly.notparton luke, you genius! i can get luella porcelain dolls!
lhughes_06 @/dolly.notparton NO! THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT!
_quinnhughes @/dolly.notparton look in the attic when you get home 😉
lhughes_06 THOSE DEMON THINGS HAVE BEEN UP THERE THE WHOLE TIME?!
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copperbadge · 8 hours
Text
I have a lot of feelings about the use of AI in Everything These Days, but they're not particularly strong feelings, like I've got other shit going on. That said, when I use a desktop computer, every single file I use in Google Drive now has a constant irritating popup on the right-hand side asking me how Gemini AI Can Help Me. You can't, Gemini. You are in the way. I'm not even mad there's an AI there, I'm mad there's a constantly recurring popup taking up space and attention on my screen.
Here's the problem, however: even Gemini doesn't know how to disable Gemini. I did my own research and then finally, with a deep appreciation of the irony of this, I asked it how to turn it off. It said in any google drive file go to Help > Gemini and there will be an option to turn it off. Guess what isn't a menu item under Help?
I've had a look around at web tutorials for removing or blocking it, but they are either out of date or for the Gemini personal assistant, which I already don't have, and thus cannot turn off. Gemini for Drive is an integrated "service" within Google Drive, which I guess means I'm going to have to look into moving off Google Drive.
So, does anyone have references for a service as seamless and accessible as Google Drive? I need document, spreadsheet, slideshow, and storage, but I don't have any fancy widgets installed or anything. I do technically own Microsoft Office so I suppose I could use that but I've never found its cloud function to actually, uh, function. I could use OneNote for documents if things get desperate but OneNote is very limited overall. I want to be able to open and edit files, including on an Android phone, and I'd prefer if I didn't have to receive a security code in my text messages every time I log in. I also will likely need to be able to give non-users access, but I suppose I could kludge that in Drive as long as I only have to deal with it short-term.
Any thoughts, friends? If I find a good functional replacement I'm happy to post about it once I've tested it.
Also, saying this because I love you guys but if I don't spell it out I will get a bunch of comments about it: If you yourself have managed to banish Gemini from your Drive account including from popping up in individual files, I'm interested! Please share. If you have not actually implemented a solution yourself, rest assured, anything you find I have already tried and it does not work.
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unluckilyimnot · 2 days
Note
hiiiii, can I please request bonten hc after they found out someone disrespected their gf!!
Bonten when their gf is disrespect
Character: Ran, Rindou, Koko, Sanzu, Mikey
m.list | rules
Note: I wrote that last night I forgot about the "find out" so there's both sorry 😞 thank you sm for your request 🤍
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Ran
I hope for the poor guy that it's not in front of him or he can pray for his life and it's gonna be useless
Spoiler it is
It's not written on Ran's face that he's going to kill him, but everyone in the room tensed up at his "excuse me ?"
Your jaw is clenched but you feel so angry and ashamed, you really don't want to help this guy rn
As he started to stammer some useless excuse, Ran shush him instantly
"Come again ? I'm not sure i heard you right"
He's a sadistic, he wants his skin ripped of his body
He lied, not repeating at all his words
Not knowing it's gonna be worse
"So you lie to me now on top of insulting my lover?"
The second he stand up you know it's the end for him
He take one hit, then another, and another
Ran probably exposed a full bottle of alcohol on top of his head to end it
"Never again, do you hear me ?" He said, bend down to his level
Hoping that he made it clear to everyone in the room that disrespecting you it's worse than disrespecting him
Rindou
He got angry and doesn't wait to stand up
They don't even get to finish their sentence that their face is somehow already hitting the table
Doesn't matter where you are, he's never gonna let that slide
"Hey you think you're more important than her to speak shit like that ?"
He hits him until he answers, grabbing his face fiercely, letting the blood of his nose and mouth run down his fingers
"I didn't hear you ?"
If he's already knock down, he call the security to leave him in the street
He excuses himself to you all night even if you tell him it's not his fault, he thinks it is
He's suppose to make sure that all his subordinates respect you
Koko
"What ??"
You tell him what happened tear his eyes off his computer
He's in disbelief, this can't be true
He frown ad you go on with your story, walking in circles in front of his desk
He has to get up and catches you for you to stop but he can tell how upset you are
He will ask for their name again, and calm you down, smoothing your back
kindly whipping the frustration tears that show up in your eyes
He would probably take you out on a nice dinner to clear your head
You won't hear about it for a few days
But one day you'll wake up to see that their company went bankrupt and that they were found dead in their appartement, seemly suicide
If you ask Koko, he'll say he doesn't know about it but deep down you know he did it
Sanzu
He's mad to say the least
He wants to end them himself
You're tough, he knows you can handle your business alone but he just can't stand it
He'll find him himself to make him understand that that's not something you said to someone on of the higher-ups of Bonten loves
If there's one thing Sanzu put at the same place as Mikey, it's you
It's like disrespecting his boss, he can't let it unpunished
He'll probably step into their place and shot them down if there's no-one important
If they happen to be, he'll just make sure to make things complicated for them until they beg for help/found
Mikey
You're so precious he can't even picture someone talking you badly
But on top of that, you're the Bonten's boss gf, they really don't know what they're doing
But he won't handle it himself
He's too busy making sure you know your worth and make it up for you
He just make sure they suffer for good while he's having a good time with you
If it happened in front of him though, they're shot down without thinking
He can always find someone better, he doesn't need someone that don't respect him, and by that he means disrespecting you as well
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It's been a while ! I hope you liked it ♡
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lostfracturess · 16 hours
Text
symptoms and causes | ch. 12
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ღ pairing professor gojo x med student reader
ღ summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.
ღ wc 15.7 k
ღ warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, overdosing, (rough) smut, mature and dark themes, self-destructive and abusive behavior, manipulation, (heavy) angst w happy ending, family drama, panic attacks, mentions of death / illness / blood, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.
ღ author's note hey u pretty people !! hope you're all doing amazing and having the absolute best day. we're back with more drama, messy feelings, and all that good stuff. also, i've updated the trigger warnings (nothing too heavy, promise), but just a heads up that we'll be dealing with some family drama and grief in this one. as always, can't wait to hear what you guys think & thanks for reading and for your amazing support (art by yamada_souko) <3
series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad
<- prev chapter | next chapter ->
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You're a slut.
The words hammered in your skull, matching the aneurysm's grotesque pulse in front of you. Another scalpel slipped into Suguru's waiting hand. Your hands moved mechanically, muscle memory guiding them more than conscious thought.
Normally, that aneurysm would thrill you, excite you, make your pulse quicken. Now, it felt oddly muted. Irrelevant compared to your spiraling thoughts.
You hate him.
You should hate him.
With every fiber of your being, you should despise him.
He pushed you away, again and again, even after that night — after you spilled your heart at his feet. He chose the pills, the numbing haze, the false comfort, the self-serving lies — his fear.
In the end he chose his addiction over fighting against it alongside you. His addiction had won out over the fragile connection you shared — had won over you. 
And that was a bitter pill to swallow.
He made his choice.
And you made yours — to get space, give him space, give it all some space — time — whatever this damn situation needed, you tried to give it, even though it felt like carving out pieces of yourself.
You didn't know it anymore, simply didn't know what was right anymore.
It had been weeks, but the memory of finding him, barely breathing on his bathroom floor, lingered as a physical ache within you. That image refused to fade. 
It was a wound time couldn't heal, a brutal reminder of his choice, of your own, of the love that had become a war you weren't sure you could win.
You weren't sure of anything anymore.
But one thing way painfully clear. Whatever you did, it was all just really a futile, desperate attempt to patch the gaping hole he'd ripped in your heart.
But how could you?
How could you stay away, act indifferent, when every second burned without him?
He's probably high right now, swallowing a pill, grading papers like the perfect professor, so damn good at pretending he has it together while crumbling beneath the surface.
Back to his routine of fake control.
But he has no control.
None.
Forget him. You shouldn't think that. It has to be possible, right? Somehow, forgetting someone must be possible, right? Erasing the memory of him from your veins, from every damn breath you take?
Because if not — how could you possibly go on?
Cruel memories flayed you open. His hand against your cheek, the touch so gentle it made something inside you crumble, even after he literally insulted you in the worst ways possible while fucking you.
But still, the way he'd look at you after — there was a flicker of something desperate and broken burning in his eyes, before he slammed that damn false smile back into place. Your heart clenched at the very thought of it, a fist squeezing something vital and already dead.
But the truth is, you didn't really hate him. No, not really.
Because how could you?
How could you hate him for trying to fix things the only way he knew how?
No.
Not really.
He was a coward, too scared to face his fears, too weak to choose fighting alongside you over the fleeting comfort of his addiction.
No, it was not hatred.
Understanding him made it worse. It twisted the knife deeper, making the hatred you clung to feel empty, useless, leaving only the bitter sting of disappointment.
Somehow, knowing someone's damage made them less a monster, more a tragedy.
Unfair, isn't it?
Because hating him would be easier.
"You okay?" Suguru's voice broke through your haze.
"I'm fine." Zoning out while someone's life hung in the balance was a new low, even for you. You met his gaze. "Sorry."
The stark reality of the situation slammed back into focus. The aneurysm, a grotesque bulge on the screen, pulsed tauntingly. Suguru's skilled hands steadied the fragile tissue around it.
"Want to continue?"
You blinked, unsure if he was joking. "You want me to clip it?"
"It's a gift."
"Gift? From who?"
Suguru arched an eyebrow, a silent answer. Of course. This was Satoru's doing. It was his way, wasn't it? Speaking of unconventional presents. 
But he undoubtedly knew you.
Before you could fully process, Suguru added. "And because I trust you. I wouldn't offer if I didn't."
Your gaze was drawn back to the aneurysm. "Okay," you said, the decision settling with surprising ease.
You slid into place in front of the surgical microscope. Suguru moved just behind you to monitor your movements. You took a deep breath, the instruments feeling strangely cold and foreign in your hands.
"Focus," Suguru's low voice rumbled close beside you. "You've got this."
Somehow, with the clip in your hand, the delicate aneurism between your hands, you wondered if Satoru was right — if you loved the thrill of it all — if him and you were the same. 
If that maddening fascination bound you together.
Because as you stared down at the aneurysm, you couldn't deny it — the rush, the adrenaline surge that came from defying death, the intoxicating high of existing on the razor's edge, it was all there, coursing through your veins. 
Were you reckless? 
Satoru's accusation echoed in your mind.
Yet, with each precise maneuver, the thrill intensified. There was a sick satisfaction in holding that much power, in the knowledge that one wrong move and this fragile existence could be snuffed out in an instant.
Here, in the sterile confines of the operating room, adrenaline replaced oxygen. 
And it was undeniably addictive.
Too bad it wasn't enough for Satoru.
"Suguru," you began, your words barely a whisper as you meticulously guided the clip, "do you ever think I'm...reckless?"
"Should I be worried that you're pondering this while inches deep in someone's brain?"
"Forget it," you muttered. "Just a fleeting thought."
With a satisfying click, the clip snapped shut.
─── ·✧· ───
The water was unusual frigid against your skin.
Suguru scrubbed his hands beside you, the methodical rasp of skin on skin a familiar sound a in the echoing washroom. Finally, he spoke. "I'm proud of you."
"Huh?" You turned to him.
"How far you've come. Really, you're doing a great job. With the surgery, the research—you have a great future ahead of you."
He meant it kindly, you knew. But his words made your stomach churn. A bright, promising future was the last thing on your mind. Surviving the next hour, the next day, that was your only focus. You mustered a weak smile in response and adverted your gaze.
"How are you doing? Really?"
You couldn't meet his gaze. "Holding up. Somehow."
He observed you. You could feel his concerned gaze on your skin without having to turn your head.
"New semester treating you okay?"
"Bit stressful," you admitted. "I have to retake a few exams." 
"Listen, if you need any help—"
"Thank you, Suguru," you cut him off, turning the faucet with a harsh click off. "But unless you're offering to take my tests for me, I'm afraid this is on me." 
You turned and reached for a towel, desperately needing to put something, anything, between you and his pitying gaze.
He paused, then shut off his own water with a sigh. "I'm sorry things turned out like this for you," he said, and you hated the sincerity in his voice. "But it's for the best, for him and for you. We did what we had to."
We?
"Wait, what do you mean?"
Suguru reached for a towel. "Hm?"
"What do you mean with, 'we'?"
He froze mid-movement, jaw tightening.
Your stomach twisted. Something in his silence, in the way he wouldn't meet your gaze—
Your hands braced against the sink, knuckles white against the cold porcelain. "What did you and Satoru talk about that night? The night before the hearing? I know he was with you."
"It's nothing important. He was confused, and I helped him clear his head."
"What does that mean? What did you say to him?"
Suguru's silence was the loudest answer, the pity in his eyes a searing poison. With a sickening clarity, it all fell into place — Satoru's sudden surrender, the way he'd looked at you in the hearing, empty and broken.
"Tell me what the fuck you said to him!"
"Isn't it obvious?" he said, the cruelty finally unveiled. "I told him to end this. That it would destroy you, and that he should take responsibility for once!"
The ground tilted.
He'd convinced Satoru to let you go.
He'd single-handedly shattered the fragile trust you'd clawed back with Satoru, the possibility of fighting this together — gone. All it took was Suguru to destroy it all.
Betrayal burned in your throat.
Satoru may have wielded the knife, but Suguru had guided his hand.
"You had no right," you choked out. "You had no fucking right to do that!"
"No right?" Suguru's voice rose to match yours. "And watch you both go down? Satoru was a ticking time bomb! It was better this way—better him destroyed than you dragged down with him."
"I had him, Suguru!" you shouted. "I almost had him trusting me enough, trusting us enough, to let me help him, damn it!"
"You're delusional. He can't change. You know that. It would always have ended like this."
"My god, I can't believe your audacity!" You spat the words, raw and dripping with fury. It masked the deeper ache, the knowledge that he wasn't entirely wrong. "You ruined everything!"
Suguru's jaw tightened. He moved closer, his imposing presence forcing you back a pace. "You know how many times I've seen this play out? The promises to change? I've seen it too often. He won't get better, and I won't let him drag you under with him. Not you."
Your retreat ended abruptly, your back hitting the cool porcelain of the sink. He remained close, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. His hand reached out, a single fingertip tracing your jawline in a gesture at odds with the harshness of his words.
"This is for the best," he insisted, his voice rough. "You're young, brilliant. This—relationship with Satoru, it would have ruined you."
"Don't you dare," you hissed, slapping his hand away. "You have no right to decide what's best for me."
"Yes, I do. Because I was the one who got you here in the first place, it was my doing, and I—" he trailed off, his voice softening. "I don't want to see you hurt."
"Why are you saying this now?"
"You know damn well why."
His words hung in the air, suffocating, sour.
Months of shared research, of seeing Suguru as a mentor, then a friend—
Suguru destroying your fragile connection with Satoru felt like an unforgivable violation. You knew it wasn't just him. But the pain of it all was too much, clouding your thoughts.
You slowly shook your head, unwilling to accept what he just said, unwilling to even comprehend the implications.
"No," you forced the word out. "You can't—"
"Yeah, I know. You don't have to tell me that."
Then, a sharp beep shattered the suffocating tension. Suguru swore under his breath, retrieving his pager. His face went taut as he read the message.
"What is it?"
"Yaga," he said. "Wants to see us. Now."
He met your gaze, dread coiling in your gut. This couldn't be good.
"Why?"
"I...I don't know. But we should go. Come on."
─── ·✧· ───
"You want me to redo a study that was completely pointless?" 
Your question rang through the oppressive silence of Yaga's office. Suguru sat beside you, but his presence offered no comfort against Yaga's piercing gaze.
Your fingers clawed into the paper files in front of you. 
Useless words, wasted effort. 
You didn't need to reread them. They were your own words, your own data after all. Your own carefully crafted research project. But it led nowhere. Insignificant results. Pointless.
The pain that these papers in your hand causes was sharper than any scalpel, a wound no surgery could mend. Because this research was fueled by grief. Grief for your father, lost to the cruel, invasive brain tumor that now mocked you from the pages. 
But it was this very research that had gotten you here. 
It caught Suguru's attention, led to his mentorship, and through him — to Satoru. How perverse that your most agonizing vulnerability had opened this door, led you to a love that felt as cursed as your research.
Cruel.
Being forced to revisit this failure, now of all times — it felt like a cruel joke. Your life, it seemed, was a master of cruelty, stripping you bare then pouring acid on the raw wounds.
"Yes," Yaga's voice was devoid of any empathy.
"The results were inconclusive. A dead end," you said.
Yaga sighed. "Your research held promise, Dr. Geto never failed to remind me. Now, you have better resources, better support. You can refine it, perfect it."
You glanced at Suguru. The flicker of regret in his eyes was another betrayal you cataloged for later. Facing Yaga again, you tightened your grip on the file until your knuckles ached. You slammed it shut, fighting the urge to tear it to shreds.
"That's not the point. My CAR-T-Therapy research was theoretical, a mathematical model that was inherently flawed. All the best equipment in the world won't change that. It's a black hole."
Yaga leaned forward. "Listen, we have a—generous donor. I think you met her at the conference? She took quite a liking to you." He paused. "Her husband recently succumbed to this very type of tumor."
My god.
Cold sweat broke out on your skin. You remembered the woman's worried face at the conference, her desperate hope when she learned of your past work. It had felt like a punch to the gut even then, reopening the wound of your own loss. 
Now, her raw grief had been weaponized, a pawn in Yaga's game of securing funding.
A bitter laugh threatened to escape your lips. Research meant nothing to these people. You were but a tool, a means to an end, another cog in their merciless machine. You wanted to scream, to expose their hypocrisy, to rip apart the facade of noble intentions that veiled their greed.
But what would it change? 
Would it expose their callousness, their blatant abuse of a grieving woman? 
No, they held the power.
Maybe Suguru and Satoru weren't so wrong, after all — research, even here, was just another business at its core, tainted by ambition and the pursuit of profit. It made you sick.
"You want to use me to exploit a grieving woman just to line your pockets?"
Yaga leaned back, momentarily taken aback by your bluntness. An arrogant rebuttal was undoubtedly forming on his lips, when the door crashed open.
Satoru stormed in, his fury barely contained. "What the hell is going on here?"
Yaga's expression hardened. "Dr. Gojo, what a...surprise. Here I thought you might have finally bothered to read your emails."
Satoru moved swiftly to stand beside you, his hand settling on the back of your chair. "Cut the bullshit, Yaga," he spat. "This is a new low, even for you. Forcing a student, exploiting a grieving widow—have you no shame?"
"Dr. Gojo, your dramatics are exhausting. Do you understand the costs your actions have inflicted on this institution? A shred of gratitude, a willingness to shoulder some responsibility, might be a welcome change."
"Responsibility? You want to talk about responsibility? You're exploiting a woman in the depths of grief, using one of my students as a bargaining chip." He leaned forward, eyes blazing. "What the hell happened to you, Yaga?"
Yaga mirrored his stance, the tension between them a storm about to break. "Happened to me? Dr. Gojo, have you considered the consequences of your reckless behavior? You're the one spiraling, and frankly, it's becoming unbearable."
Suguru, sensing the impending explosion, stepped between them with forced calm. "Director Yaga, please. She's a student, her focus should be on her studies."
"Of course, which is why you and Dr. Gojo will provide your expertise. Your old lab is free to use, funds are secured, equipment at your disposal. You have free rein."
Satoru laughed. "Free rein? Or free rein to do as you please? Despicable, Yaga. Truly despicable." He paused, the rage in his voice barely contained. "And wasn't I suspended? Investigations and all that? But I suppose principles go out the window when money enters the picture."
"You have no right to dictate what happens here, Gojo," Yaga snapped, the veneer of civility slipping. "You answer to me. This research holds immense potential, not just for the university, but for the field itself. You will do it. End of discussion."
"Potential? Or is that just fancy code for fattening your wallet, Yaga?"
Yaga's lips thinned. "Don't play dumb, Gojo. You, of all people, know exactly how the game is played."
"Don't. Do. This." Satoru leaned in, his voice a dangerous quiet. "Involve her in your schemes, and I swear—Leave her out of this. Suguru and I can do the damned research, but let her focus on her studies."
"You're in no position to bargain. I can make things incredibly difficult for you, Gojo. Throw away all that potential, all that talent...it would be a shame, wouldn't it? But I am more than willing to do so if you prove uncooperative."
"Director, Dr. Gojo has a point. This research will be a massive distraction. Her studies should be her priority," Suguru stepped in.
"Yes," Yaga drawled. "I heard about her recent...setbacks." He opened his laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. "A failed practical exam, a theoretical test barely passed. And this isn't the first time, is it?"
His gaze fixed on you over his glasses as he turned the screen, revealing your student record, the failing grades glowing a damning red. "Tell me, which subject would you like to miraculously pass? A click of my fingers, and it's done."
The room imploded. 
Satoru's grip on the chair threatened to split the wood. "You blackmailing piece of shit!"
"Blackmail?" Yaga said. "No, blackmail would be threatening to cut her scholarship, endangering her entire future here...which, thankfully, our generous donor would be more than happy to preserve."
Suguru shot to his feet, a rare crack in his composure. "Yaga, this is beyond the pale! This blatant manipulation—"
But the words were already forming in your mouth, driven by a bone-deep weariness. "I'll do it," you declared, the words surprisingly firm. "I'll work on the research."
The room fell silent, every eye fixed on you. 
It felt awful to give in, but with everything going on, it was just too much — giving in was easier for now.
There were other battles to save your strength for. And the battlefield of Satoru's furrowed brow and those piercing blue eyes that bore into you was a battlefield that already took all your strength.
Someone needed to be practical here, and that wouldn't be him.
"Someone finally sees reason," Yaga said, breaking the silence. "You start this week."
This week?
"No," Satoru interjected. "That is not up for debate. We start next week."
Surprise flickered across Yaga's face, quickly replaced by irritation. Even Suguru seemed taken aback by Satoru's sudden defiance.
"This week," Yaga repeated.
"Next week. Or I walk out that door and you can find yourself a new star surgeon."
He wouldn't. He couldn't possibly—could he?
Satoru couldn't know about your father's death day — the reason why starting this week was unthinkable. You didn't tell him. But why, then, was he so vehemently pushing back?
"Dr. Gojo, you are exceedingly close to losing my goodwill," Yaga ground out. "Fine. Next week."
"And if we find nothing? Months, years, wasted on a dead-end?" Suguru asked.
"You'll continue as long as the funding lasts."
"Of course," Satoru spat.
"Well, look at the bright side, Dr. Gojo. I just approved that fancy new CT scanner for the ER. Isn't that what you've been whining about?" Yaga's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Finally found some spare change in the budget, did we?"
"You fucking bastard," Satoru hissed.
"Everyone has to play their role, Gojo."
The air in the room turned to lead. 
You couldn't breathe. The walls of Yaga's office seemed to close in, suffocating. It had been the right decision, perhaps the only one — a tactical retreat. But why the hell was it so hard to breathe then?
It was just too much. 
Too many battles, too many impossible choices. 
Your father's memory, a constant ache turned into a weapon used against you. Yaga's insatiable ambition crushing you. And Satoru—
But worst of all was the gnawing, unyielding guilt underneath it all — that by returning to this research, you were betraying your own principles, the memory of the very person who had inspired you to pursue this path in the first place.
Your vision became blurry. 
You desperately needed to escape. "If you'll excuse me," you managed. With that, you turned and fled Yaga's office, barely registering the startled faces of the men left behind.
─── ·✧· ───
You needed air, distance, anything to clear your head.
The hallway became a suffocating tunnel. Students and staff blurred past, mere obstacles in your path. Your heart pounded against your ribs.
"Wait!" Satoru's voice, his footsteps echoing behind you .
Bursting out into the courtyard, you gasped for air. Rain a harsh slap against your skin. Blurred shapes of green and gray whipped past as you ran. You didn't care where you were going, just that you were getting away. 
Away from Yaga, away from the project, away from the crushing weight of it all.
Satoru called your name. Barely heard him. Legs burning, lungs screaming, but you pushed, ran. You wouldn't stop. Couldn't. Didn't want to see him — not now.
Somehow, you found yourself in an unfamiliar part of campus, and then — a wall. Looming, brutal. A dead end.
Sobs tore from your throat. You were cornered.
This is where it all led, isn't it?
Failure. 
Betrayal. 
And the sickening knowledge that you were complicit in your own downfall.
And with Satoru's relentless pursuit, the final, crushing blow would soon fall. His concern, his pity, would be the last straw, shattering what little remained of your composure.
"Please—" His voice was close now. 
Your eyes slammed shut, but it did nothing to drown out his voice, the panic. Rain plastered your hair to your face, soaking you to the skin.
Satoru paused, a few feet away.
"Just leave me alone, Satoru. Please, I can't—can't—" The words dissolved into another ragged sob.
"I know, but I'm here." He took a step closer, and panic flared within you.
Your world narrowed. The panic attack was inevitable. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, each inhale a struggle against the invisible constrictor squeezing the life out of you. Your icy fingers trembled, useless and numb.
No. 
No.
No.
No. 
This couldn't happen. 
Not here, not now. 
Yet, your body betrayed you.
Without conscious thought, you simply sunk down onto the rain-soaked concrete. Your hand pressed against your chest, a desperate attempt to quell the frantic thudding of your heart, a frantic plea for it to slow, to obey.
Satoru crouched before you, the rain dripping from his white hair. Then the weight of his warm jacket settled over your shoulders as you choked on another breath.
"I...I just need..." Your voice cracked. "Need to sit. Can we just...just sit for a second?"
"Yes. Of course. Whatever you need."
He didn't touch you, didn't offer empty promises. He simply held the jacket over your head like a shelter, shielding you as best he could against the downpour. His own white shirt clung to him, soaked through.
His gaze, those impossibly blue eyes, never wavered. You felt exposed, like your every broken piece was on agonizing display for him to witness. It was unbearable.
You hated it.
Hated him for seeing you like this. 
Hated that he refused to look away. 
Suddenly, his hand covered yours, gently pressing it flat against the hard plane of his chest. You inhaled sharply, but then felt the calm rhythm of his heart beneath your palm.
"Focus on me," he whispered. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
You struggled to pull air into your burning lungs. His steady breathing, the gentle rise and fall of his chest under the drenched shirt, became a desperate focus.
Slowly, with each ragged breath, the crushing weight of panic slowly began to ease. Your racing heart slowed, though your body still trembled. You weren't sure how long you sat there, just you and Satoru, in the downpour. 
As the tears subsided, as the world finally stopped spinning, you felt the faintest flicker of something akin to calm. Not the absence of pain, but the strange feeling of calm, of home — something you always felt with him.
Bittersweet resignation to the absurdity of it all washed over you. 
All his attempts to distance himself, to push you away — and here you were, thrown together once again by forces far beyond your control. You hadn't sought this, hadn't chased after him. Yet, life it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor.
Work together, fall apart, suffer, repeat.
A bitter laugh escaped you.
His gaze was on you, wary, perhaps gauging whether the weight of it all had pushed you beyond the brink of sanity, whether you'd been broken beyond repair — whether he was the one responsible for all this.
"Pointless, wasn't it?" 
"What?"
"All that effort of yours. Pushing me away, only to end up here. Back to square one. Stuck on this damned project, pretending we don't want to fuck each other on the lab table."
His brow furrowed. "Are you losing your mind?"
You tilted your head, considering the question. "Tell me, was it easier? Loosing me, breaking my heart, than facing whatever it is that terrifies you about being with me?"
Silence fell.
"I don't know," he finally admitted. "I thought it would be, but now, I'm not so sure anymore."
Your breath hitched, the first inhale that didn't feel like a shard of glass cutting into your lungs. "We can do this, right?"
"We can try, if you want to" he said, his voice thick. "Suguru and I—we can handle most of it—"
"No. I mean, we can do this. Together. Work side by side, like professionals."
"We have to try." He swallowed, a muscle in his jaw working. "If you want me to...I can stay behind the scenes. Crunch data, Suguru can lead in the field—"
"No. No shortcuts. We do this together, all of us. You, me, Suguru."
"But you don't have to. You're a student. This mess...it's not yours to clean up."
"You think I can't handle it?"
Hypocritical, maybe, after your breakdown, but you didn't want his protection, not in this way. You wanted to fight your own battles, for better or worse. Stubborn pride — a desperate denial of how the grief, the unrelenting struggle, chipped away at you.
Perhaps he saw that, saw the fragility behind your brittle facade. Yet, his concern felt like a form of surrender — an acknowledgment that you were both fighting losing battles.
Satoru sighed, his hand raking through his soaked hair. "No, damn it, that's not it. I just—hate the idea of you having to—"
"And you always get to decide for me, right?" 
His reaction was immediate. Hands cupped your face, forcing you to meet his gaze, the touch surprisingly gentle. "You infuriating, stubborn woman. Stop trying to play the goddamn martyr. For once, just let me help you."
"Sounds familiar, doesn't it?" 
His grip tightened, a flicker of anger replacing the worry. "This isn't the same. You're not me. Sukuna's fucked-up game, Yaga's ambitions, this whole mess—none of it is yours to bear."
"You're right, we're not the same, no," you snapped. "I don't run when things get hard."
"God, you're so full of it! Your precious ego won't let you admit you need anyone, even someone who actually cares about you."
"My ego? Don't you think it's a little hypocritical to pretend you care after pushing me away?"
"You stupid woman." His anger faltered. "I'll always care, always look after you. Because I can't stand it—I can't watch you hurt. I—" 
He trailed off, the confession choked back. Slowly, tentatively, his thumb traced a line across your cheek.
"Let me protect you," he whispered. "Please, just let me keep you from the worst of it."
"And what about you? Who looks after you?"
He held your gaze, the intensity holding you captive. 
You'd seen glimpses of this before — flashes of protective fury or moments of vulnerability. But never like this. Never so raw, unguarded. He looked at you as if you held the key to his survival, as if your very existence was both his lifeline and his undoing.
Love. 
It was the word you choked back, the emotion you refused to give voice to. Yet, it hung heavy in the rain-drenched air. It blazed in his eyes, a confession too raw to be contained.
His touch lingered, then retreated. 
He stared at you, the rain making it impossible to tell if the glistening sheen on his face was water or something other.
"You have to stop looking at me like that," you whispered.
"I know," he said, burying his face against his shoulder for a moment. "Just because we can't be together...It doesn't mean I've stopped loving you."
You took a deep inhale, your heart a clenched fist in your chest. 
"You know, in those four weeks—," you began. "I wondered if it was worth it, the pain, the hurt, for those sweet moments of being with you, or if it would've been better to never meet you at all."
"And did you find an answer?"
"I don't know," you admitted. "Part of me wished you'd just call me, say it was all a cruel joke." 
"I wanted to but—"
"I know," you cut him off. 
He didn't need to say it. 
You didn't want to force the confession from him, didn't want to break something inside him you couldn't bear to see shatter, didn't want to see him crumble under the weight of his choices. 
There was no need for him to voice the regret, the guilt. 
You knew it, saw it in his eyes.
"I know," you repeated softly.
He was suffering too, you knew that. But a wounded part of you needed him to feel the pain, to feel the burn of it, to understand the depth of the wound he'd inflicted.
"It's okay," you said. "But I can't pretend I don't sometimes wonder how you could do this to me. Why you took it so far. You knew it would end like this, that you weren't strong enough, you knew, didn't you? And still, you let me confess...all while knowing you couldn't commit."
"I—," he started but you weren't done.
"I'm not finished," you said, a hand raised to silence him. "I wanted to scream, to rage, to make you feel my pain. But I kept quiet, kept my distance. Because I knew you weren't ready to face this. And I won't force you to."
Silence fell, broken only by the relentless rain.
"I didn't deserve this, Satoru," you forced yourself to say. "You know it."
There was no accusation, no plea for explanation. Just a simple truth, a raw wound laid bare in the unforgiving rain. 
"I know."
"I don't know if I can forgive you yet, Satoru. I don't think I'm strong enough right now."
He reached out, gently brushing a wet strand of hair from your face. "It's okay," he said. "I'll wait. Forever, if I have to."
"And I'll wait for you," you echoed. "Until you're ready."
You took a deep breath. In this rain-soaked moment it seemed, all that remained were raw truths and a shared pain that bound you together even as it tore you apart. 
You searched his face. "How are you? How have you been?"
"I...managed." 
Convincing as always.
You could see the toll this had taken on him, the shadows in his eyes, the tension in his jaw. Satoru, in his stubborn pride, would rather break than admit vulnerability.
Perhaps you weren't so different after all.
You tilted your head. "And how's that working for you?"
His gaze drifted to the ground.
With a sigh you slowly, hesitantly, reached for his hand. 
His hand was cold against yours, damp from the persistent rain. You traced the faint scars on the back of his hand, the ones you'd stitched. His fingers twitched, then hesitantly found yours, intertwining with a desperate vulnerability that startled you. 
It was familiar, his touch, his skin, yet undeniably foreign at the same time.
He looked up, dark circles smudged beneath his eyes. And so, beneath the relentless rain, you simply sat.
Words felt unnecessary. 
There was no need for declarations, no need to dissect what had gone so horribly wrong. The truth was in the shared breath, the tremble of your intertwined fingers, the unspoken ache that you both shared.
You knew, with a certainty that transcended logic, that your souls were intertwined in a way that refused to be undone. Yet, that same knowledge brought a crushing weight, a reminder impossibility, the painful chasm you couldn't seem to bridge.
Too bad love wasn't enough. 
"I love you," he finally whispered. "As long as I breathe, I'll love you."
"I hate you," you said.
He sighed, with a hint of a defeated smile. "Come on," he said, gently pulling you to your feet. "Let's go home."
─── ·✧· ───
Grief isn't pretty.
It's not elegant tears and soft whispers.
Sometimes it's a relentless ache, a gnawing emptiness throbbing beneath the thin veneer of forced normalcy. 
You threw yourself into work, anything to outrun your thoughts.
You barely slept, barely ate. You wrote, then erased, then wrote some more.
Endless cups of coffee and the frantic tapping of your fingers on the keyboard replaced sleep. Your apartment became a prison, phone buzzing with unanswered calls, dishes piling up, the world outside your window a meaningless blur.
You existed on a ragged edge, refusing to let your mind wander. Every sting of grief, every echoing memory was ruthlessly shoved down, buried under data, statistics, intricate theories. 
It wasn't just research anymore. It was a shield against pain.
You reread old papers, your eyes scanning pages until the words blurred, searching for some missed detail, some hidden clue that would unlock a breakthrough — anything to justify this madness.
You couldn't stop, needed to function. 
Because what else was left of you if you didn't anymore?
So you worked. Because to stop is to surrender, to stop is to face the truth — that without this work, all that remained was the ruin of what you once were.
Days melted into nights.
You massaged your temples, the headache now a constant companion.
The laptop screen blurred, diagrams and data swirling. Your mind felt like a tightly wound coil, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.
You looked over to the window. The world outside, bathed in the soft glow of early morning, seemed like a foreign land. You hadn't been out in days.
You needed fresh air.
You slipped on shoes and crept downstairs. On the landing, your gaze fell upon Mrs. Tanaka, your elderly neighbor. Her hands fumbled with a tangle of keys, her fingers trembling slightly.
You knew Mrs. Tanaka, knew her kind smile, knew the early signs of her dementia.
"Need help, Mrs. Tanaka?" you asked.
She turned, her eyes widening in recognition. "Oh dear. I seem to have misplaced my keys again. Silly me."
"Here." You knelt beside her, retrieving the spare key from its familiar hiding spot under the potted plant. "Is this it?"
"You're an angel, dear," she said, her hands finally steady enough to work the lock. She paused, peering at your drawn face. "You look exhausted, dear. Are you getting enough rest?"
"Oh, I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile. "Just a long night of studying."
Mrs. Tanaka's nod was slow, her gaze lingering. But she said nothing further, just patted your arm gently before disappearing inside her apartment.
Your walk around the block was a blur, legs moving on autopilot. 
The energy drink in your hand was a pathetic substitute for real sleep. Back in your apartment, the silence was deafening.
You lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling. 
Think. 
Think. 
Think.
And suddenly — there it was, a flicker of an idea, a twist on existing theory so audacious it bordered on madness.
It wasn't a cure, not yet. But it was... a start.
Adrenaline surged through you, chasing away the exhaustion. You barely noticed the tremors in your hands as you scrambled for a fresh notebook. Diagrams sprawled across the pages, messy yet precise, a frantic attempt to capture the idea before it slipped away.
Your hand ached from scribbling, your mind throbbed. But the fire was back, a destructive force perhaps, but a force that fueled you nonetheless. 
Finally, as the first rays of dawn painted the sky, you had it. Not a cure, not yet. But a starting point. It was messy, audacious, and riddled with uncertainties. But it was something.
You reached for your phone.
[8:27 AM] You: Can we meet later? Lab. After classes. I think I have something.
─── ·✧· ───
You clutched your steaming cup of coffee like a lifeline.
Shivers ran down your body as a gust of autumn wind cut through your thin sweater, carrying with it the scent of damp leaves and the promise of winter's impending cold.
The late afternoon sun offered little warmth as it filtered through the branches of the oak trees that shaded the outdoor seating area of the cafeteria. Students bustled past, their bright faces and carefree chatter unbearable.
"You awake?" Maki's voice cut through the haze that had settled over you. 
You blinked, suddenly aware of the concerned looks on your friends' faces.
"You look like absolute hell," Maki continued. "Seriously, have you slept at all this week?"
"I'm fine."
"Don't even start with that. We know you, and you look like you're about to lose it."
You took a long sip of your coffee, somehow, defending yourself seemed like too much effort.
"She's right, you know," Yuta chimed in, his voice gentler than Maki's but no less concerned. "This research they're piling on you, on top of everything else... it's too much. Even we're struggling with the new semester, and we don't have half the stuff you're dealing with."
"Yeah," you sighed. "Tell me about it."
The looks exchanged between your friends were anything but reassuring. They knew you, knew your stubborn streak, but they also saw the toll this was taking on you. The shadows under your eyes, the tremor in your hands — they couldn't be ignored.
"It's not right," Maki said. "They're basically blackmailing you with your scholarship. That's messed up, even for this university."
"I know, it's messed up. But what am I supposed to do? Fighting it will just make things worse."
"But you have to!" Maki insisted, her voice rising. "Yaga's using you! You're just a student. We should report him, expose this whole thing."
"Maki, it's okay," you sighed, rubbing your temples.
"Nothing about this is 'okay'," she retorted. "You look like you're about to have a breakdown. You can't keep this up forever."
You slumped back in your chair. "It's complicated."
They were right, of course. You couldn't keep going like this. It was unsustainable, a house of cards ready to collapse at the slightest breeze. But what other choice did you have? The alternatives seemed even worse.
"We just—we worry about you," Yuta said. "Maybe we can help with the workload? Notes from class, study sessions—"
"Yeah," Toge chimed in. "Notes."
You offered a faint smile. "That would be great, thank you."
But Maki, as always, was less concerned with comforting and more with the injustice of it all. "I still can't believe you're stuck working with Gojo again. I mean, who does he think he is?"
You winced, wishing she hadn't brought up Satoru. Your head pounded, a migraine threatening to form. You rubbed your temples, but Maki's gaze was relentless. You knew what was coming next.
"Don't even ask," you pleaded, but it was too late.
"Have you talked to him? Like, really talked?"
You sighed, burying your face in your hands. "Maki, please—"
"Girl, he dragged you in front of an ethics committee, broke your heart, and now he's acting like nothing happened. Why are you still protecting him?"
"I can't tell you why," you said, your voice muffled. "Just trust me on this."
You couldn't really tell them, could you?
You couldn't tell them that your professor, a world-renowned neurosurgeon, was an opioid addict. That you'd fallen for him, hard. That the research project had gone sideways, not because of your actions, but because of something else that eventually led to a twisted game played by one of his former friends. And that Satoru, in his fear and self-loathing, had pushed you away, convinced he was doing you a favor.
Yeah, that wasn't exactly coffee-break conversation.
Maki raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with your non-answer.
"He's...afraid," you said. "But he's trying."
"Trying what, exactly?" Maki scoffed. "To break your heart again? How long are you going to wait for him to get his shit together? How many times are you going to let him hurt you before you realize he might not change?"
Her words, harsh but undeniably true, cut deep. You knew the risks, the potential for heartbreak. But you also knew that love wasn't always rational, that sometimes the heart held on to hope long after logic had abandoned it.
You met Maki's gaze, a silent plea for understanding in your eyes. She was trying to protect you, and as much as it stung, you couldn't fault her for that.
"I think what Maki's trying to say," Yuta interjected, "is that we're worried about you. And this situation with Dr. Gojo doesn't help. He's your professor. If anyone finds out about your history, you're fucked."
"There's nothing to find out. It's over."
"Over? So you talked to him? Ended things?" Maki pressed.
"Ended is a bit strong."
"You really want me to go over there and end it for you?"
You wanted to argue, to defend the fragile hope that still flickered within you, but the words wouldn't come. You were simply exhausted.
Just then, your phone, lying forgotten on the table, lit up with a notification. 
[12:37 PM] Satoru: We're in the lab. Take your time, we'll wait for you until your class is over.
Maki raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of the devil?"
You gathered your things, a sudden urgency replacing the weariness. "I have to go," you said, looking to Yuta with a silent plea. He understood immediately.
"Don't worry," he said, a smile on his lips. "I'll take notes for you. Don't want you falling behind on top of everything else."
"Thanks, Yuta, I owe you one." 
But as you turned to leave, Maki crossed her arms, a stern expression on her face. 
"Don't be mad at me," you pleaded, sensing another lecture coming on. "I've got this under control, I promise."
"Sure you do. Just like you had that whole thing with Gojo under control?" She paused, her voice softening slightly. "We're just worried about you. Don't shut us out."
The weight of their concern settled heavily in your chest, a guilt that twisted like a knife in your gut. 
You wanted to tell them, to let them know the fucked-up mess of emotions and impossible situation you were in, but the words stuck in your throat.
You couldn't tell them.
You simply couldn't tell them.
Not when it meant risking his secret, his reputation, his entire career.
Not when you still cared, foolishly, stubbornly cared.
─── ·✧· ───
You pushed open the door to the lab.
It had been weeks since you'd last stepped foot in this space, weeks since you'd worked with Suguru and Satoru here. Somehow it's the same, the same lab, the same white coat, the same machinery, the same smell of antiseptic in the air, but the project was different.
No, it was not the same.
You slipped into your white lab coat and dropped your bag in the corner.
Satoru and Suguru were already immersed, standing in front of a whiteboard. Satoru, stretched out in a chair with a mug of coffee precariously balanced on a nearby stool, was gesturing wildly while Suguru scribbled.
You walked over to them. Satoru's head snapped around as he heard your footsteps, nearly spilling his coffee on the floor.
"What are you doing here?" Satoru asked. "Don't you have a lecture right now?"
"Yuta's covering for me. It's fine."
He stared at you for another moment, his brow creasing as he assessed your weary features. "That's not how this research will work. You won't jeopardize your studies for this."
"Last time I checked this was my research. Remember?"
Satoru merely scoffed, tilting his head to assess you with those impossibly blue eyes. You tucked your trembling hands behind your back, hiding the caffeine-fueled tremors from his observant gaze.
"You look exhausted," Suguru observed. "Are you sure you're up for this?"
"I'm fine," you lied, though they probably wouldn't be fooled. Exhaustion clung to you like a second skin, and the effort to maintain your composure was becoming unbearable. 
They glanced at each other for a second, sharing a worried look.
It felt like a jagged saw against raw nerves. You wanted to prove them wrong, to prove you could handle this — handle all of it. This fight wasn't your choice, but it was yours now. And you wouldn't crumble beneath its weight.
"Look, I have an idea." You walked towards the whiteboard and relieving Suguru of the marker. With a few harsh strokes, you erased their notes.
It was shit anyway.
"My original approach was too theoretical—too cautious," you began. The marker flew across the whiteboard, outlining your new strategy. "I wanted to use CAR-T therapy to treat brain tumors like blood diseases, but that's not enough. What if we combine CAR-T with targeted antibodies?"
Suguru took a seat beside Satoru, his gaze following yours as you scrawled out diagrams and equations. "Antibodies...what kind?"
"T-cell engagers," you replied. "We can engineer them to bridge the gap between the CAR-T cells and the tumor."
Satoru shifted in his seat. "Such things never been tested before."
"That's why we'll be the first," you countered, keeping your back to them and focusing on the whiteboard. "We'll modify the CAR-T cells to specifically target the glioblastoma's antigen fingerprint. But we need to combine them with T-cell engagers, designed to simultaneously bind the EGFR protein. This way we can maximize tumor cell destruction."
You spun around, the marker poised in your hand. "And we'll inject them directly into the brain."
They both starred at you, as if you went insane.
"That's," Suguru paused, searching for the right word, "—bold."
"More like insane," Satoru countered. "When was the last time you actually slept?"
"Ha?" Your gaze flickered between them. "Tell me this doesn't make sense."
Suguru leaned back, fingers drumming against the armrest. "It does. Theoretically, it might even work."
Satoru, however, remained unconvinced. "Combining CAR-T with antibodies? Direct brain injection? We don't have preclinical data, not even hypothetical models to support something this radical."
Your pulse hammered against your skull. Your idea was a shot in the dark — that was undeniable. But in your gut, you knew, this could work.
"So?" you challenged. "Isn't that what groundbreaking research is about? Taking risks, pushing boundaries?" You gestured to the whiteboard. "This—this is worth the risk."
Suguru stood up from his chair. He paced the lab, your idea stirring an excitement in him that matched your own. He stole the marker from your hand and began scribbling.
"She's right," he began. "Direct injection cuts through the blood-brain barrier issue. And targeted antibodies...that opens up possibilities we haven't even considered."
"The potential for cytokine release syndrome—," Suguru mused aloud. "If the T-cells overreact, we could trigger a inflammatory response."
"We can manage that," you countered. "Steroids, anti-IL-6...strict monitoring protocols." 
You knew the risks, perhaps even better than they did. And they were monstrous, undeniable. But those risks paled in comparison to the potential.
Suguru continued scrawling notes. "And what about the target itself? EGFRvIII is notoriously heterogeneous. We need robust evidence that our antibodies won't miss their mark—"
"Is it just me, or am I the only sane person in this room right now?" Satoru, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally snapped. "We're not talking about hypothetical models here. We're talking about messing with someone's brain. Someone's life."
You glared at him. "I'm well aware of the risks, Satoru."
"Aware and reckless aren't the same thing," Satoru shot back. 
"Coming from you, that's rich."
Satoru run a hand through his hair. "Look, you've barely slept for a week, and now you're proposing—what, supercharged T-cells?" He gestured wildly towards the whiteboard. "Have you both lost your goddamn minds?"
"This could work, Satoru. Or are you too much of a coward to even try?" 
His eyes narrowed. "Ha?"
You leaned into him, your hands on the arms of his chair, caging him in. "Tell me, do these supercharged T-cells unnerve you? Make you uncomfortable with yourself?" Your lips were mere inches from his as you whispered, "Too bad you can't fuck them into submission, right?"
He stiffened, the muscles in his jaw clenching. He understood your taunt, the challenge clear in his eyes, the anger and — maybe something other as well.
Suguru, who had been watching the exchange with an expression that bordered on annoyance, suddenly stopped mid-thought. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, his expression hardening as he glanced at the screen.
"Damn it." He answered the call. "Alright, I'm on my way," he said finally, ending the call with a curt nod. He turned to you. "We'll pick this up later. There's a situation at the hospital. Get some rest. You look like hell."
Ouch.
Before you could say anything, he was already striding towards the door, his white coat flapping behind him. 
With Suguru gone, a heavy silence descended upon the room. 
Satoru remained seated, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on you. It felt like an assessment, not just of your audacious proposal, but of you — standing there, the weight of sleepless nights visible in the dark circles beneath your eyes.
"So—," he began. "When was the last time you actually slept? Like, really slept?"
You rubbed your aching temples. "I'm fine." 
You didn't know how many times you'd said that before today. But each time it was a lie. The exhaustion now throbbed behind your eyes, the beginnings of a relentless migraine.
Satoru stood. "Yeah, right." He crossed the distance between you in a few strides, his towering height suddenly oppressive. 
"Listen, we can argue about this crazy plan of yours later. Right now, you look like you're about to collapse." He reached out, gently cupping your face, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "Don't lie to me. I know you're not fine."
"This idea is good, Satoru," you insisted. "It could actually work."
"I don't give a damn about theoretical breakthroughs right now," he said. "Stubborn, reckless idiot. I care about you. And right now, you're pushing yourself way past your limits."
"I don't need your concern, Satoru. Right now, I need your brain to help me with this."
His lips quirked into a half-smile. "Oh, where did all that anger at me go?"
"Screw anger. I'm being a genius now."
"You're not a genius right now, more like a madman."
"That's what it takes," you muttered, the defiance fading as your voice softened. "This research...it's personal." 
He studied you closely, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "I get that. But you can't save anyone if you fall apart in the process."
"I won't fall apart."
"Yes, you will. I've known you long enough to know that."
Part of you longed to surrender, to let him take the weight you carried, even for a moment. But pride, a fierce, protective instinct, urged you to resist. You couldn't afford to rely on him, not anymore. You had to fight your own battles, win or lose.
"Let us help. Just a little. Share the burden."
"I'm—"
"Don't," he cut you off. "Don't say you're fine. Not when I can feel you trembling."
"I'm... okay," you said instead.
His gaze held yours, unwavering and painfully perceptive. 
His breath brushed against your lips, making your knees weak in an instant.
The world narrowed to the mesmerizing blue of his eyes. He leaned in, your bodies mere inches apart. His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you against him. Each inhale brought the subtle scent of sandalwood and something uniquely him.
"Satoru, what are you—"
He smirked. "Just testing out a hypothesis."
His eyes flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes. You leaned into him, unable to resist his pull, cursing your treacherous body in the very same second.
"What hypothesis?"
He leaned closer, his lips ghosting over yours before tracing a searing path down the side of your throat. A soft moan escaped your lips as his tongue flicked out, leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
"Ah," he whispered against your skin, "that would be telling."
Before you could react, his hands slipped beneath your legs, lifting you effortlessly. Your arms instinctively found their way around his neck. He carried you effortlessly toward the lone chair before his desk.
"What are you doing?"
"Research," he declared, a playful lilt to his voice. 
He lowered himself into the chair, his hands never leaving your body, guiding you onto his lap as if you belonged there. His warmth enveloped you.
"Time to delve into your reckless methods, wouldn't you agree?"
Your legs were lifted, draped over his thighs as he pulled you closer. He reached for his laptop, his fingers dancing across the keyboard.
"Satoru, I—"
"Shhh." His fingers grazed your cheek, then slipped into your hair, stroking the back of your head in a soothing rhythm. "Just rest for a moment. I'll handle this for now."
"But I—"
His grip tightened, a gentle but firm reminder that your protests were futile. "If you don't sleep now, I swear, I'll slip a sedative into your next coffee, love." 
You grumbled something unintelligible, but the fight had drained from you. The exhaustion was too overwhelming, his warmth too tempting. 
You surrendered to the moment, your body relaxing against his. As your eyelids fluttered closed, the world narrowed to the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his breath against your hair, and the undeniable truth that despite the chaos — you were exactly where you were meant to be.
But even as your eyelids grew heavy, your researcher's mind kept churning.
"EGFRvIII..." you mumbled, the words barely audible against his chest. "Heterogeneity...off-target effects..."
He chuckled, his chest vibrating against your cheek. "Yeah, yeah, I got it, Doctor. I might be a bit more experienced in this field than you, you know."
"But cytokine storm markers...cross-reactivity...you forget them often..."
"Bossy even in your sleep, huh?" His fingers continued to run through your hair as he spoke. "Don't worry that pretty little head. Just...sleep. I've got you."
And with that promise, he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart lulling you into a deep, desperately needed slumber. The last thing your conscious mind recognized was a kiss placed on the top of your head.
─── ·✧· ───
Ten years. 
Ten years since the sterile hospital room, the rhythmic beeps of the monitor dissolving into a horrifying silence. 
Ten years since the brain tumor had devoured your father, the man you looked up to, the man you admired more than anyone. 
Who would have thought that ten years later you'd be doing research on that very brain tumor again.
What a cruel joke.
Today, all you craved was to burrow yourself under the covers and let the world fade away. University, research, responsibilities — they all felt trivial, meaningless.
You were hungry, stomach growling. 
You didn't want to eat.
Dragging yourself out of bed was a herculean effort. Even the simple act of brushing your teeth felt monumental, exhaustion seeping into your bones like a poison.
The familiar ache intensified. You missed him. Missed his booming laugh, his gentle teasing, the unwavering belief in his eyes that you could achieve anything. 
He would have understood this desperate research, this burning need to find a cure — not just for others, but for a chance to rewrite the ending to your own story.
Maybe throwing yourself into this research was a desperate way for you to feel close to him again, maybe it was a futile attempt to get over it, end the suffering, end the what if's.
Coffee, black and bitter, was the only thing you could stomach. Just as you were about to take a sip, your phone buzzed.
[10:12 AM] Satoru: You with friends today?
You stared at the screen. Why would he ask that? But as quickly as the thought came, you dismissed it. No, not today. You really didn't need another emotional mess on this day.
You ignored the message.
With a sigh, you tossed the phone aside and buried yourself under the comforting weight of your blankets. You just wanted to sleep. Sleep and forget. Pretend for a moment that the world wasn't crumbling around you.
Afternoon passed in a haze of restless slumber and tearful awakenings. 
Another buzz — a call this time. 
Satoru.
Your finger hovered over the decline button. Why was he calling? Was there an emergency? Even if there was, you wouldn't be much help today anyway. 
Ignoring the call, you shut your phone off completely. He can handle whatever is going on on his own. He's a grown man after all.
The silence returned, thick and heavy.
Curled up tight, you drifted into a restless sleep again.
You awoke with a start, disoriented and unsure of how much time had passed. You blinked against the dim light, the rhythmic thumping at the door a harsh intrusion. Ignoring it, you burrowed deeper under the covers. 
Maybe, just maybe, whoever it was would go away and leave you alone. But the knocking persisted. With a frustrated groan, you dragged yourself out of bed. Throwing the door open, you were met with the last person you expected to see.
"What are you doing here?" you asked.
Satoru leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. His white dress shirt was rumpled, sleeves rolled up. Dark navy tie around his neck. His brows were furrowed, the usual playful smirk replaced by a worried expression.
"You weren't answering your phone."
"And?"
"I'm concerned about you."
"No need."  
You reached for the doorknob to shut the door. But his hand shot out, stopping the door. His gaze locked with yours, those impossibly blue eyes piercing into you.
"You didn't tell anyone, did you?" he asked softly.
"Tell anyone what?"
"That today...it's the day of your father's death."
You felt an icy grip tighten around your heart. How did he know? You hadn't told anyone, not wanting the pitying looks or empty platitudes, least of all from him.
"Yeah," he said.  "That's what I thought."
His gaze held you captive, draining the fight from you. It wasn't anger, nor pity, but something like concern, and something more — something you told him not to look at you like that again.
You stepped aside and shuffled towards the kitchen to get yourself another cup of coffee. "How did you even know?" you asked, pouring yourself another cup.
"Google."
You turned, coffee sloshing in your mug. "Seriously? You Googled my father's death day?"
He didn't answer to that.
Instead, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze unwavering. "Thought you'd be with friends today. Maki's fiercely protective, she wouldn't leave your side on a day like this. So when I saw her and the rest of the group on campus, I figured you hadn't told anyone."
"Yeah, because I wanted to be alone. Besides, shouldn't you be at university right now?"
"Called in sick once I realized you weren't with them."
"You really trying to get yourself fired, don't you?"
He closed the distance between you, the small kitchen suddenly feeling crowded with his presence. His eyes swept across your face, taking in the exhaustion etched around your eyes, the weariness in your posture.
"Have you eaten anything today besides coffee?"
"How much hydromorphone have you taken today?"
"Don't distract from the subject."
You crossed your arms. "I just changed the subject."
He ran a hand through his unruly white hair. "Alright, stubborn one. Let's get you some real food."
"I don't need you to babysit me, Satoru."
"Yeah, I know you don't. But you can't stop me, can you? So, move it." He gestured towards the door, his gaze unwavering. "Or I'll throw you over my shoulder and carry you out myself."
The threat, delivered with a hint of a smirk, was not entirely a joke. You knew him well enough to know that. He was dead serious, and you were too exhausted to fight him, to resist the gentle command in his voice. 
And maybe, just maybe, a part of you didn't want to fight him, was thankful for his support.
"Fine," you grumbled. "But I'm paying."
"We'll see about that, first-year."
─── ·✧· ───
You didn't pay for it.
He'd already taken care of the bill before you could even reach for your wallet. 
Silence fell between you as you navigated the bustling streets in his car, your stomach full. He smoothly merged from the parking lot onto the main road.
You were halfway through your energy drink, the sugary sweetness suddenly feeling heavy in your stomach. "Wait... where are we going?"
Glancing out the window, you saw a road sign indicating the highway. It pointed towards the direction of your hometown, a place you hadn't set foot in for nearly a year. Your stomach suddenly turned.
"You..." you stammered. "Why?"
His eyes briefly met yours, one hand tightening on the steering wheel. "Don't you want to visit him?"
His words hung in the air, a simple question — should have been a simple question.
But a wave of nausea roiled in your stomach. Guilt for neglecting the place that held so many memories, fear of confronting the raw grief that still lingered, a deep-seated yearning to reconnect with a past you'd desperately tried to outrun.
"I don't know." You slumped back in the seat. "I don't think I can."
Silence stretched between you.
Then, his hand found yours, fingers interlacing with your own. "I'm here with you. Every step of the way."
You hated him.
Hated that he wouldn't force you, wouldn't pressure you. Hated that he would simply be there, as he always seemed to be. Even when you didn't ask, even when you didn't want him to.
You wanted to curse him for his audacity, for somehow knowing what you needed now, for understanding you better than you understood yourself. But a part of you was grateful. 
The truth was, you didn't have the strength to face this alone. And deep down, you knew this visit was long overdue.
Your fingers fumbled with the edge of your sleeve. "You planned this all along, didn't you?" You glanced over at him.
His lips curved into a slight smile. "Get some rest," he replied, eyes returning to the road. "We've got a long drive ahead of us."
The highway stretched before you, an endless ribbon of asphalt disappearing into the horizon. You leaned back, exhaustion pulling you under. The warmth of his hand lingered, a comforting weight on your thigh. 
Lately, it seemed, you could find peaceful sleep only in his presence.
─── ·✧· ───
Hours dissolved into miles, the familiar cityscape giving way to rolling hills and quaint towns. The pain in your chest was still there, but with Satoru by your side, it was lighter, less heavy, less suffocating.
But as the car pulled into the all-too-familiar cemetery parking lot, the dread you'd been suppressing clawed its way back. Satoru cut the engine, the sudden silence deafening, broken only by the mournful creak of the windshield wipers against the lingering drizzle.
Satoru got out of the car and rounded it to opened the door for you, his hand lingering on the window frame. You got out of the car only to find yourself trapped, his body not moving an inch. 
"You okay?" 
"I'm fine." You ducked beneath his arm, breaking the hold of his gaze, and stepped onto the rain-softened ground.
The desolate expanse of the graveyard stretched before you, a sea of gray and brown punctuated by the stark white headstones that stood like silent sentinels. Without a word, you walked the familiar path, each step a heavy weight dragging you down. 
The wind howled. It whipped through the trees, skeletal branches clawing at the sky. Each gust of icy air tore at your hair, biting at your exposed skin until you finally stood before his grave.
Satoru remained a few paces back.
You hadn't been here since the funeral, avoided it at all costs. And now you were here, standing in front of his grave. Somehow, you didn't even remember the reason you avoided this for so long.
Maybe seeing his grave made it all too real, too painful.
But now you were here.
And it became real, and it was painful.
"You want me to leave you alone?" Satoru asked.
"No." With a silent plea, you reached out your hand. "Please, stay with me."
His response was immediate. In a few quick strides, he closed the distance between you, his hand enveloping yours in a warmth that chased away some of the icy dread. "Where else would I go?" he mused, his fingers intertwining with yours.
You swallowed back a sob, unable to form words. 
Time lost all meaning as you stood there, hand in hand, the world narrowing to the headstone before you. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, the sun sinking lower, painting the graveyard in fiery hues of orange and red.
But the silence became unbearable. 
Memories flooded you, each one a bittersweet wound, a yearning for the past that wouldn't be silenced. You couldn't stand still anymore. Your fingers tightened around Satoru's.
"I asked my father to read me his neurology books as a child," you finally spoke, your voice a fragile whisper. "While other kids were reading about princesses and fairy tales, I wanted to understand what my father did, wanted to understand his work."
You took a shaky breath. "He loved this. Surgeries, research, saving lives... it was his whole being, and somehow, it became mine too. I remember knowing how to clip an aneurysm before I could do the Pythagoras theorem."
"When I was old enough, he took me to the hospital. Showed me everything. I was probably there more than I was at school." Your voice trembled, the dam threatening to break. "I loved it. I loved it so much."
"Sounds like he was a great man," Satoru offered quietly.
"They tried everything," you continued. "Chemo, radiation... poison, burning him from the inside out. But the tumor was too aggressive, too progressed." Your voice trembled, your fingers turning to ice in his grasp. "Surgery was his last option."
Satoru moved closer, his grip tightening.
"We didn't want him to, we wanted him to try radiation a little longer, stay with us a little longer," you confessed, the words spilling out in a rush. "But he chose surgery anyway, went into surgery without telling us."
Suddenly the memories came back, how weak and fragile your father already was from all the procedures. How the doctors still suggested surgery. It was risky. It was stupid. But your father still wanted it. Even after you begged him not to do it. 
But what could you do?
You were a high school student at the time. 
Young and dumb.
You know now, that it was his only chance. You understand now, why he wanted to try anyway, even though he knew the risks.
"He didn't make it," you finally choked out, tears welling up in your eyes. "He died on the table. Alone. I never even got to say goodbye."
Suddenly, Satoru's arms enveloped you, strong and warm against the chilling evening air. He pulled you close, one hand on your back, the other pressing your head against his chest.
"It's okay," he said quietly. "I'm here, and I'll always be here."
You bit your lip. You wouldn't cry. Wouldn't let the grief consume you. Not here, not now. But Satoru's arms tightened around your trembling form as your tears nevertheless dampened his shirt.
You didn't know how long you remained like this, but his grip on you never faltered for a second, he didn't back away for a second. Even as twilight descended, casting long shadows across the headstones.
He held you until your tears dried, he held you until your tight grip on his shirt eased, until your heart felt less like a stone in your chest.
"We should probably find a place to stay," Satoru finally spoke, his voice gentle, hesitant. "It's getting late, we can drive home tomorrow—"
You pulled away, just enough to meet his gaze. Your voice was surprisingly steady despite the tear-streaked tracks on your face. "I know where we can stay."
─── ·✧· ───
"She's a little...different," you warned Satoru after ringing the doorbell.
The porch creaked beneath your weight. Your eyes swept across the worn wooden planks, the once vibrant yellow paint on the siding faded to a sickly pallor, the rusty mailbox overflowing with unopened letters. Rose bushes wild and overgrown.
You averted your gaze, a lump forming in your throat.
"Yeah, yeah," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You've mentioned that. Like, a hundred times."
"Just so you're prepared."
"I'm a doctor, remember? Crazy doesn't faze me."
"Just wait," you muttered, a knot of unease tightening in your stomach. "And, uh, whatever you do, don't mention my father."
His eyes widened slightly, the playful smile disappearing. But before he could respond, the front door flew open. Your mother appeared in the doorway. Surprise, then unadulterated joy, flashed across her face as her gaze fell upon you.
"Oh my baby girl!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. "You've grown so tall! My, how long has it been? All the way from Tokyo? Are you alright? Why didn't you call?"
Her questions tumbled out in a torrent, the words tripping over each other as she finally noticed the tall, white-haired man standing behind you. "And who is this?"
"Mom," you managed, your voice muffled against her shoulder. "It's good to see you too..." You gently extricated yourself from her embrace. "This is Satoru...he's a...," you turned around to glanced at him, "friend."
Satoru raised an eyebrow at the label.
Your mother's eyes raked over him. He, in turn, flashed her a smile so bright, so disarming, it almost made your skin crawl. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Wow, he really could play the perfect son-in-law when he wanted to.
You suppressed a sigh, knowing your mother was already half-smitten. Before she could unleash another barrage of questions, you quickly interjected, "We're just passing through, and need a place to stay the night."
"Of course, of course!" Your mother's enthusiasm returned in a flurry. "Come in, come in! You must be starving. I'll whip up some tea, and there's apple pie..." She chattered on, ushering you both into the familiar warmth of your childhood home.
─── ·✧· ───
Before you could blink, your mother had you both in colorful floral aprons, protest was futile. Satoru's awkwardly tied over his shirt, the apron way too tight for him. He loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves, the crisp white fabric bunching around his elbows.
The awful smell of lavender, tinged with something sweet, hung in the air.
How you hated that smell.
Your mother bustled around the kitchen, flinging open cupboards, clattering utensils, and assigning tasks. You found yourself shoulder-to-shoulder with Satoru at the counter, a mountain of carrots and a too-small cutting board the only barrier between you.
You glanced at him and mouthed a silent 'sorry'.
Satoru leaned in, a wry grin playing on his lips. "Think I finally figured out where you got your stubborn streak."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Before he could answer, your mother stood between you, a wooden spoon clutched in her hand like a weapon. "So, Satoru, tell me, where did you meet my lovely daughter?"
The question nearly made you drop the knife.
"We met in the operating room," he began, while cutting carrots. "I was performing a quite complicated operation and was a bit stuck, and your daughter over here helped me out."
"Oh, you're a surgeon?"
"Neurosurgeon, yes," Satoru replied. "But apparently, I'm not as clever as your daughter. She's got quite the mind on her."
Your mother let out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing in the cramped kitchen. "That's my girl," she exclaimed, patting your arm with a flour-covered hand. "Always the smartest one in the room."
Then, she reached out to pinch your cheek. "Mom!" You swatted her hand away. "Stop it!"
"She's astoundingly intelligent," Satoru added, his eyes flickering to you with an admiration that lingered a beat too long. You rubbed your cheek, a blush warming your face. "Couldn't ask for a better research partner."
You shot him a warning glance, and he finally tore his eyes away, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
"You work together?" your mother asked, her curiosity piqued as she turned around to tasted something from the simmering pot.
"We're involved in the same research project—" Satoru began, but you cut him off.
"It's nothing special," you interrupted, desperately trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous territory. "Just some boring data analysis. Nothing exciting."
Satoru glanced at you. You shook your head subtly, hoping he'd catch the unspoken plea.
The rest of the meal preparation was a blur of nervous glances and sharp elbow jabs.
Your mother asked more and more personal questions, making you want to crawl under the table and disappear. You dodged, deflected, and offered vague answers. Satoru, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem to reveal every fucking inappropriate detail of your shared past.
You could practically feel the bruises forming on his shins. By the time the food was ready, you were ready to throttle him.
He must absolutely hate you, you thought, shooting him a death glare as you sat down at the table. But even your anger couldn't fully mask the warmth that spread through you at the sight of his charming smile, the way he seemed to effortlessly charm your mother with his stories.
You'd hoped the interrogation was over, but as soon as the first bite was taken, your mother launched into a fresh round of inquiries.
"Made some good friends in Tokyo, have you?"
"Yeah," you mumbled around a mouthful of casserole. "They're great. Don't worry."
"Oh, thank goodness!" Your mother clasped her hands together. "You were always a bit of a loner, you know. I was so worried you'd be all by yourself in that big city."
The backhanded compliment made you roll your eyes. Some things never change.
Before you could reply, she continued, "But you've even found yourself a boyfriend! That's wonderful!"
You choked on your food. "Mom, no, that's not..." you coughed, fighting for composure, "He's just a friend."
"Ouch," Satoru muttered under his breath, a smirk playing on his lips as he took another bite.
You shot him a glare, the unspoken 'shut up' hanging heavy in the air.
"So, you two are working on that neuroprosthetics project together, then?" your mother continued.
You were mid-bite, unable to answer before Satoru piped up, "We were. But we're working on something else now."
"Oh? What happened to the neuroprosthetics?"
You swallowed, forcing the words out. "It was...shelved. For now."
"Why?"
Damn it. Her relentless questioning was grating against your already frayed nerves. You avoided her look, tracing the worn pattern of the tablecloth with your fingers.
"Some complications," you lied. "We're waiting on funding."
You couldn't really tell her the truth after all, could you?
"So, what are you working on now, then?" Your mother wouldn't let it go, her voice a relentless drill boring into your skull.
"It's nothing, really. Boring stuff," you dismissed it, desperate to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters.
"Ah, but I want to know!" 
"It's...medical research."
"That's what I thought! But what kind? It must be important if you're working with a seasoned surgeon." She beamed at him. "Tell me, I'm dying to know!"
Your gaze flickered to Satoru, a silent plea for him to remain quiet. He simply watched the exchange with a carefully neutral expression, probably unsure of what's going on.
The knot in your stomach tightened. You knew she wouldn't let it go. "It's... brain tumor research," you finally admitted.
The kitchen fell silent.
Your mother's forced smile vanished, a mask you knew all too well finally fell. Her eyes hardened into shards of ice.
"So," she finally hissed. "It's back to that foolish research, is it?"
It hurt — after all this time it still hurt so awfully.
"It's not foolish," you retorted, your own anger flaring in response. "It's important. It could save lives."
But your words fell on deaf ears. She slammed her hands on the table, the force of it rattling the plates. Her face twisted with a grief-stricken rage as she rose, towering over you. "Why? Why are you so obsessed with this?"
The words pierced you like a thousand tiny needles. It was the unspoken accusation that had haunted you since his death — that your relentless pursuit was somehow an act of betrayal, a denial of his death.
But she was worse.
"Because he's dead, Mom!" you screamed. "He's gone! And he's never coming back!"
The words hung heavy in the air, a brutal reality she desperately tried to outrun. Your mother's face crumpled, the carefully constructed mask of normalcy finally shattering. Her hands clenched into fists, knuckles white against the worn tabletop.
"Dead?" she whispered. "You know that's not true. He's...he's just...away. You're lying. You're a liar!"
The accusation, so childlike in its desperation, was a punch to the gut. You wanted to scream, to shake her out of this self-imposed delusion. But the words died in your throat.
What was the point?
It was useless. She hadn't changed a bit.
This was the same wall of denial you'd run up against so many times before, a fortress built to keep the pain at bay. But you were done banging your head against it.
"I'm going to bed," you choked out, the words barely audible. You turned and fled, each step a retreat from the battlefield you had lost long ago.
The familiar smell of her cooking, now made you want to throw up.
─── ·✧· ───
Each step creaked as you climbed the familiar stairs, the once vibrant floral carpet now muted and worn beneath your feet.
Nothing had changed.
Your childhood bedroom, untouched since you'd left. Your mother hadn't changed a thing. Same striped bedspread. Dusty neurology textbooks still lined the shelves. Moonlight filtered through the threadbare curtains, casting elongated shadows across the walls.
It was all achingly familiar, yet utterly foreign.
You collapsed onto the bed and starred up at the cracks in the aging ceiling. That goddamn lavender smell all around you. Your mother seemed to have sprayed the air freshener everywhere — some habit she had developed after your father's death.
She wanted the house to smell good for his return.
Your head began to throb.
Then, a soft knock at the door. "Can I come in?" Satoru's voice broke the silence.
You mumbled a weak assent. He entered, closing the door softly behind him.
"Could you calm her down a little?"
"I did my best," he said. "She's sleeping now."
"I told you she's different."
He walked over to you. "She's in denial, probably a prolonged grief disorder. Is she in therapy?"
"She won't go." You rolled onto your side, your back to him. "I've tried."
Wordlessly, Satoru slipped onto the bed beside you, his warmth enveloping you as he nestled against your back. His arms encircled you, pulling you close until your back was pressed against his chest. His hand found your hair, fingers threading through the strands.
You didn't resist.
You knew you were crossing lines again, lines that should remain clear. But in that moment, the exhaustion, the heartache, the years of repressed grief — it all became too much.
You just wanted to be near him, damn the consequences.
So you surrendered, your body relaxing against his. You could feel his breathing, the steady beat of his heart against your shoulder. Slowly, the tension eased from your shoulders, replaced by a weariness you could no longer fight.
"My mother lost it after his death," you whispered. "She shut down completely. Wouldn't leave the house, wouldn't eat... wouldn't even speak. I had to take care of everything, the house, the bills, keep her from falling apart. It got better, eventually. But those first few months were a living nightmare."
"I know she lost her husband." Your voice caught in your throat. "But I lost my father. I was grieving too."
Satoru listened, his fingers gently stroking your hair as you continued.
"I couldn't take it anymore. It was hell." You swallowed against the burn of tears. "I was so relieved when Suguru offered me a way out, a chance to transfer to Tokyo, to leave it all behind, move far away, away from here. I never looked back, never came back. I left her alone. I couldn't anymore. I hate this place."
It was humiliating — a shameful admission of weakness you'd never dared to voice aloud. But now it escaped your lips, you simply couldn't hold it in any longer.
You never wanted him to see this side of you, the weak, helpless girl who'd run from her responsibilities, the broken girl you tried to bury beneath layers of ambition and scientific accomplishment.
"Do you think I'm a terrible person?"
Satoru's hand stilled in your hair. "No," he whispered. "You were a child, forced to grow up too fast, forced to take on too much responsibility. Walking away from that doesn't make you a bad person, it makes you human."
"But why does it feel so wrong? I should have been there, I should have—"
"Sometimes the kindest thing we can do for ourselves is to walk away from the things that hurt us," he interrupted gently. "You were protecting yourself. That doesn't make you bad, it makes you brave."
"I'm not so sure."
He pulled you closer, his face buried in the crook of your neck. "Nothing you do, nothing you could ever do, would make me think less of you," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "No matter what you've done, I'll always love you. You can't scare me."
How could he say that now? 
How could he offer this unwavering love while dismissing your own?
Did he think you were so weak, so easily scared by his mess?
How could he not believe you, when you'd sworn the very same words to him?
It was a painful irony, a hypocrisy that made your stomach churn. He was so convinced you would abandon him, so afraid of your judgment, but couldn't he see?
You wouldn't leave him. You couldn't.
He didn't need to be perfect. He didn't need to be whole. He just needed to be himself. You loved him, flaws and all, and you were willing to fight for him, even if it meant fighting against your own better judgment.
The unfairness of it all made you want to scream. But all you could do was remain close to him, the warmth of his body a painful reminder of the love that could have been, the trust that had been shattered.
"I hate you," you whispered. "I hate how easy this is for you, how you can be so damn controlled even when you're high. It should be harder for you, shouldn't be me that falls apart."
"I've been doing this a bit longer than you, love," he murmured against your hair.
"Doing what?"
"Life."
You scoffed.
"It used to be hard," he admitted. "But it got easier over time. Now, I guess I'm just...a better person on drugs than off them."
"You really think that?"
"You see the proof, don't you?"
"So, you won't ever stop, will you?"
The silence that followed was an answer in itself. You shifted in his embrace, the darkness making his features hard to read. Even so, you could sense the defensiveness in his posture, feel the faint tremor in his hands.
"I'm afraid, Satoru."
"Of what, love?"
"That you'll kill yourself with the pills, and that I'll have to watch, unable to do anything about it."
He shook his head. "That won't happen."
"Don't fool yourself, you're not stronger than your body."
In a swift motion, he shifted, hovering over you. His hands on both side of your head. The moonlight cast stark shadows across his face, his eyes burning with an intensity that stole your breath away.
"That won't happen," he repeated with an intensity that sent chills down your spine. "Because how could I ever leave you? You're the last thing I want to see before sleep, the person I crave to wake up beside, the person I want to spend the rest of my life with."
He leaned closer, the warmth of his breath ghosting across your lips. "How could I leave, when you're the one who showed me I could still feel? Who gave me something I'm terrified to lose?"
Your breath caught in your throat. His words were cruel — reminder of what you'd lost, of the future he'd carelessly shattered — cruel reminder of the love he had no right to claim. It left a bitter taste on your tongue.
"You ended this," you whispered. "You ended us."
"I know." He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as if the weight of his confession was too much to bear. "But I'm still yours. You still have all of me."
"That's not fair."
"I know." His hands found your waist, his touch searing through your thin shirt. "I know I'm being selfish. But I can't—fuck, I can't stay away from you."
"You're just scared to be alone."
"No." His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you impossibly close until you could feel the frantic beat of his heart against your own. "It's not that. It's—" He paused, struggling to find the words. "I swear, if I could, I'd melt you into my veins, let you run through my bloodline forever."
"Satoru, I—"
"No." His lips hovered inches from yours, his mouth slightly open, a desperate plea in his eyes. "Don't—don't say anything. Not yet."
He tilted your chin upwards, his gaze searing into yours. His brow furrowed, a tense line between those striking blue eyes.
"You're carved into me. Heart, soul, every damn part of me I can't even begin to understand." His thumb brushed your lower lip. "I'm tethered to you, and I don't know how to cut the cord."
His lips hovered, a hair's breadth away from yours. His gaze flickered to your lips as he leaned impossibly close. 
You ached into him, the warmth of his body pressed against yours. Weeks of forced distance, the pain of his choices, the impossible future — it all faded as you closed your eyes, surrendering to him — like you always surrendered to him.
But just as your lips were about to touch, something crossed your mind.
Tethered.
"Tethered!" You shoved him away with a sudden surge of adrenaline. Mind racing, you scrambled out of bed. You tore open drawers and rummaged through your childhood bedside table. "Where's a pen? marker?"
Satoru, momentarily stunned, watched with a furrowed brow. "What's going on?"
Then you found a marker. "No time to explain," you declared, already uncapping the marker. You walked towards the wall opposite the bed, a blank canvas of white paint. Satoru watched as you draw with the marker on the wall without a second thought.
With a flourish, you started sketching a series of diagrams, lines connecting and branching out, notes scrawled in messy handwriting beside them.
Finally, you stepped back, chest heaving. "Okay," you began, "with glioblastoma, the big problem is, how do we keep those CAR-T cells and antibodies glued to the tumor, right? How do we stop them from wandering off and screwing up the whole show?"
Satoru's eyes followed your every move, his brow still furrowed. "Yeah."
"We need a delivery system," you continued, the words tumbling out faster than you could write them. "Something that keeps those cells localized, focused on the tumor, like a...a guided missile." You stabbed the marker at the wall, emphasizing your point. "Otherwise, the treatment won't be effective. It'll just dissipate, a waste of time."
He leaned back against the headboard, rubbing his chin. "Some kind of molecular anchor, maybe?"
"Not exactly. But you're on the right track. Think smaller. Nanoparticles."
Satoru raised a questioning eyebrow. "Nano-what now?"
You grinned. "Microscopic carriers, basically. Biocompatible ones, of course. Imagine we wrap those CAR-T cells and antibodies in these little packages, and engineer them to stick to the tumor like glue."
"So they stay put, right where they need to be?"
"Exactly." You nodded. "They deliver their payload directly to the tumor, then break down harmlessly. No more stray cells wreaking havoc on healthy tissue."
"But won't the body eventually get rid of them? Immune system, natural breakdown, that kind of thing?"
"Absolutely. That's why we use biodegradable polymers for the encapsulation. They'll dissolve over time, minimizing any long-term risks. But it's—," You paused, a flicker of doubt crossing your face. "We have to figure out the exact release rate—enough time to kill the tumor, but not so long that they cause other problems."
Satoru's gaze swept across the diagrams on the wall. Then, he pushed himself off the bed and walked towards you. You held your breath as he studied your handwriting.
"So?" you asked. "What do you think?"
"Stubborn, reckless, absolutely brilliant." His azure blue eyes met yours, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You stubborn, reckless, absolutely brilliant woman."
Before you could react, he swept you off your feet, a surprised gasp escaping your lips as he spun you around. "Satoru!" you protested, clutching your legs around his waist, laughter bubbling up.
He stopped abruptly, holding you aloft, your bodies mere inches apart. His hands warm against your hips, your fingers threaded through his hair. Your heart hammered in your chest. But as you stared into his impossibly blue eyes, you found yourself unable to look away.
His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips, then back again. "Damn it, you drive me insane."
"We have a lot of work to do."
"We always do. But this—this is different. We're going to do this. We're going to make it work."
"Are we still talking about research?"
"Of course, love," he replied, leaning closer, his lips mere millimeters from yours.
Time seemed to slow, the space between you burned. You could feel the warmth of his breath, smell his intoxicating cologne. You wanted this, wanted him with a desperation that clawed at your very soul.
But just as your lips were about to touch, he pulled back, abruptly setting you on your feet, shattering the moment like glass.
"We should get some sleep," he said. "Long drive tomorrow."
You nodded, your throat suddenly tight. 
Maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was for the best that he hadn't kissed you. Because deep down, you knew that if he had, you wouldn't have been able to stop. 
"Yeah. We should sleep," you finally said. "You'll be sleeping on the floor, just so you know."
"Ha?"
"You think I'm letting you sleep in my bed after that?" You crossed your arms. "You can't be trusted, professor. There's a futon in the closet."
"You're kidding, right?"
─── ·✧· ───
You woke with a groan.
Rolling over, the familiar striped print of your childhood bedspread met your gaze. Sunlight filtered through the dusty curtains, casting the room in a hazy glow. Beside you, the futon was empty, the faint scent of Satoru the only evidence that he had been there at all.
Why hadn't he woken you?
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you reached up to touch your lips. The faint ghost of his kiss still lingered on your skin. A headache threatened to rise as you hastily dismissed the memory.
Not this again.
The house creaked and groaned as you made your way downstairs. Halfway down, you froze.
There, in the sun-drenched kitchen, stood Satoru. Leaning casually against the counter, his unruly white hair seemingly catching every ray of sunlight, he looked startlingly at home. Your mother stood beside him, a genuine smile on her face as they talked.
Seeing him here, in this familiar space, in this casual domestic setting with your mother, sent a strange feeling of warmth through you. Your lips twitched upwards as you caught a glimpse of your mother's laughter, a sound that had been far too rare in recent years.
Then, as if sensing your gaze, Satoru's gaze snapped to you, his eyes brightening.
"Well, there she is!" your mother exclaimed. "Satoru was just giving me an update on your research. Sounds like you're onto something really interesting!"
Your brow furrowed. What was she talking about? She couldn't be talking about the brain tumor project. She'd rather chew glass than willingly delve back into that nightmare.
You were rooted to the stairs, exhausted and confused.
Satoru crossed the distance between you, that familiar lazy grin playing on his lips. He held out a hand. "Ready?"
"Yes," you said and reached for it. His fingers closed around yours. "Let's go back."
─── ·✧· ───
Birdsong filled the crisp autumn air.
Morning light filtered through the gnarled branches, casting dappled shadows across the porch. The chipped paint on the railing, the faded welcome mat — you never pictured yourself missing this place, your hometown, your childhood home. It was too intertwined with loss, too full of ghosts, to really miss it.
Yet, today, saying goodbye was somehow hard.
"Thank you." You gave your mother a tight hug. Her embrace was warm, reassuring, but you felt her tremble slightly. "For everything."
"Come back and visit soon, okay? And call me when you're back in Tokyo. Promise?"
"I will," you lied.
Your mother squeezed you with surprising strength. Then, with a low voice she whispered, "I think...I'll try therapy."
Stunned, you pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. Why now? After years of denial? Your gaze flickered past her to find Satoru leaning against the porch railing, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. Could he — Was he behind this?
Before you could form the question, your mother turned to him. "And you! You take good care of her, you hear?"
"I will, but I also wanted to ask you something." Satoru pushed off the railing and walked over. He took your mother's hand in his, the gesture strangely formal. Then, in a move that left you momentarily stunned, he bowed slightly and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.
His blue eyes met hers as he asked, "May I have your permission...to marry your daughter?"
Haaaaa?
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author's note: hmmm friends, i can't with soft, desperate satoru. was literally melting while writing this. but i hope this chapter gives you all a little more hope for a happy ending, haha. i know some of you were doubting after the last one (which, btw, wasn't even the lowest point yet, just sayin'). but we'll get there, promise !! Just a whole lotta chaos and hurt to get through first.
also, please don't ask me about any of the medical stuff in this chapter. i have no idea what's going on, lol. loosely based it on this study (DOI: 10.1056/NEJMoa2314390), but seriously, i don't understand any of it. just ignore anything that doesn't make sense — it's all for the sake of the plot ahaha.
also was hesitant to share too much of yn's backstory since this is technically an x reader story, but you guys wanted to know more, so i went for it. i'm so glad i did !! i think it makes her character more well-rounded and shows her vulnerabilities. 
and omg, satoru being supportive no matter what? trying to make things right? i'm a sucker for that. and of course, he had to meet his future mother-in-law sometime, right? hehe. but don't worry, we'll also dive into satoru's past and how it shaped him in future chapters.
one last thing note on suguru: this won't turn into a love triangle. reader's heart belongs to satoru, and while suguru's feelings will be there, it'll be more of an undercurrent than a major plot point. so, no worries there !!
and lastly, thank you so much for reading. your support means the world. seriously, you make this whole writing thing so much fun !! so thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ask for !! <3
🏷️ @sad-darksoul @aerithsthingss @mylovelessnightmare @bbyxxm @musababy @neuviloved @ykehqqy @hexrts-anatomy @fvsm4x @tw0fvced @heijihattorisgf @sadmonke @thatsopanu @sirencholia @sugurusdiscordmoderator @erwinslut @shervinss @certainlysyko @mechalily @purplehallow11 @kendall0111 @bloopsstuff @therealestpussyeater @louoi7 @whereflowerswenttodie @billiondollarworth @deluluforcarlos55 @starrynight-777 @vina21 @michelleeveline @boba-is-a-soup @cre8inghavoc @love-jelly @daimiyu @d0nk3y-k0ng @mo0nforme @smolbeanzzz @oneiricals @ynishalee @gojolvrr34 @nanasukii28 @ariiiii0938 @kelppsstuff @tojisdollx @drakenswifeyy @bakarinnie @vina21 @phoenix-eclipses @nanamis-baker @neptnszn @browrm @hfdkhjghjkghfj @marcillyan @roses-and-reeses @yungbloode (pls comment on the series masterlist to get tagged in the future, this way it's easier for me to keep track!)
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pshcomforts · 2 days
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➳ cardigan | psh.
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popularhighschool!sunghoon x loserfem!reader
“you drew stars around my scars, but now i’m bleeding”
synopsis: sunghoon caught you at a bad time.., or better to say, at a late time when he rushed and yet found you injured from a few bullies.
warnings/content: written in third pov. reader’s a little grumpy and closed off. angsty. mentions of blood. reader gets beaten up.. this is cliche, i won’t lie..! cursing. not proofread.
comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)
word count: 3.1k
a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend). honestly inspired by that one scene in revenge of others!
༘˚⋆𐙚。masterlist⋆.✧˚
current song playing: cardigan by taylor swift
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
2:12 ────────────|─────── -1:47
y/n quickly thanked the cashier before speeding out of the convenience store. it was dark, scary, and the girl was alone so of course she was trying to hurry home.
she was halfway through her walk, texting her friends when a figure had stopped in front of her.
she glanced up and found a classmate with a wide grin plastered across her face.
“hey y/n,” she sweetly called in a fake tone. “i’m surprised to see you here.”
y/n’s face morphed into disgust as she pushed her aside. “what do you want?” she asked, allowing the girl to murmur — “leaving so soon?”
“don’t you want to stay and talk?” a different voice bellowed from her right. another classmate who was friends with the other appeared from the dark shadows.
a mischievous grin was shown on her face as a few more began to pop up.
y/n sighed, biting her lips as she remained composed from what was about to happen.
“i want to get home, so get out of my way.”
she attempted to leave the scene, but was pulled back by a hair grab from one of the girls.
“you think you can just flirt with sunghoon and get away with it??” y/n heard the first girl who stopped her scowl.
it finally clicked for her as to why these girls began to bother her.
it was just earlier today when she had gone to the canteen to find her friends, and soon spotted them with their partners.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ — flashback
“hey guys!” she beamed at her group of friends.
“hey y/n!” they yelled back in the same, excited tone.
y/n quickly sat down in the open seat as she greeted her friends’ significant others as well — jake, heeseung, and jungwon.
“hey baby, sunghoon’s right there, we’re gonna go okay?” min-su’s boyfriend announced, causing the members to get up and leave to where sunghoon was, which was at a group of table where the popular students normally were.
y/n felt her heart tighten at the sudden name. memories flooding back from the boy she put all her trust in and broke it. they used to be friends, but once his popularity grew, so did their distance.
so as she kept her gaze down, ji-woo huffed out a quiet sigh while looking at dae and min-su.
there was nothing her friends could do to mend her and sunghoon’s relationship together. though the two had their friends dating each other, there was a clear line that they never crossed in terms of being okay again.
✩ ‘but i knew you’ ✩
when she didn’t bother to look anywhere but her feet, she didn’t realize that sunghoon unknowingly laid his eyes on her.
any time he tried to look elsewhere, they’d still land on her without a thought. his heart burned that he wasn’t near her like he used to be.
even when one of the girls at his table, the one who approached y/n, tried to get his attention, he’d just let it run by his ears — not caring if it looked rude.
he just wanted the girl he’s always loved in his life again, even if it meant losing his popularity.
“y/n..?” dae called out to her, allowing the girl to turn towards him. “want to head to a class instead?”
her heart softened once she realized how considerate her friends were in recognizing the awkward distance between her and sunghoon.
“i’d like that…,” she murmured back.
the four rose from their seats but y/n held herself back, announcing that she’d meet them near the door after tossing her lunch away.
as she did so, she was forced to walk by the group of kids who deemed themselves as popular — in which including sunghoon, and a few other enhypen members.
she sighed, pushing herself to get used to the uncomfortable energy as she sped to the trash bins.
when she finished her task, she walked toward her group of friends, rushing through a few crowds when a familiar student had accidentally bumped into her.
the bump was harsh enough that she almost stumbled down onto the ground, but she quickly stopped herself to avoid the possible embarrassment.
“sorry!” y/n yelled. “are you okay??”
she glanced up and found the boy she’s been avoiding in front of her.
sunghoon took a noticeably large gulp as he towered over her, hands still firmly holding onto her forearm so she wouldn’t fall.
her heart instantly dropped with how close she was to him, hating that he was in front of her again. she blinked her eyes before pulling her arm back to lose his grip.
“sorry..,” she mumbled, turning away before she could get a reaction out of him.
y/n mentally cursed in her head as she ran off to her friends who watched the whole thing happen from afar, not wanting to hear from the boy who abandoned her.
but from what she didn’t know was that sunghoon kept his attention on her even after she left the scene, body frozen and gaze locked from where she stood.
he couldn’t comprehend the fact that she spoke to him again. his heart was fluttering from her very minimal yet repeated words in his mind.
“sunghoon?” the girl who approached y/n asked. “what’s wrong?”
she attempted to link her hands with his but he slipped out of it.
“we’re not together, don’t do that.” he coldly replied, returning back to his seat next to jungwon.
she fumed out a few curse words under her breath as her cheeks heated out of embarrassment.
she was determined to make sure y/n knew her place after having an encounter with her crush.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
y/n yanked herself out of the harsh grip on her hair, shoving the hand away as she clicked her tongue in annoyance.
“it was just a bump. you can have sunghoon all you want, i don’t want him.”
lies, but she wasn’t about to admit that in front of those group of girls.
“please.., you bumped into him on purpose didn’t you?” one of them uttered, scoffing in disbelief, causing y/n to scoff as well.
“now why would i do that? i don’t want to get close with him.” she rolled her eyes. “does he not give you enough attention for you to claim this or something?”
the proclaimed leader guffawed out a laugh, truthfully a little choked out at the remark y/n made but was still unfazed.
“your feisty attitude won’t win him over.”
“your bratty attitude won’t win him over either,” y/n snapped back. “i don’t even want him. he doesn’t pique my interest.”
lies again.
as she tried to walk out of the threatening circle, one of the girls pulled her back into it.
“you don’t think you can just walk away that easily, do you?” the leaders lips evilly curled afterward.
y/n rolled her eyes, exasperating a sigh since she couldn’t believe she was getting dragged into this situation for no reason.
“with your friends gone, guess you have no one to protect you, hm?”
a hand finally flew towards y/n, indicating that the long awaited fight had begun.
the girl fought back in the best she could, throwing hands and slamming heavy backpacks against each body to protect herself.
she did well for a second, victory almost in her hands but the amount of people against her was outweighed and she unfortunately lost.
in seconds, the girls who had bruised marks from y/n regained themselves and threw her to the ground.
they each took a beating, causing y/n to feel the constant hits that were purposefully harsh.
once the leader deemed it was enough for a lesson, she kneeled down to the girl’s eye level, forcing a hand on her chin.
“talk to sunghoon again and it’ll be worse.”
the girls hurriedly ran off, a few still aching from what y/n was able to do as she was left alone.
she heavily sighed, air almost being kicked out of her lungs when she found it hard to breathe. she was finally able to stand after a few gasps, clothes rustled and hair messy from the beatings.
“fuck..,” her weak voice mumbled, lips trembling as she clenched onto her chest. “that fucking hurts.”
y/n slowly dusted herself off, body almost falling limp when her phone began to ring. she checked it, finding her friends ringing her in for a call but she declined it.
with her messy state, she didn’t want to worry them so she refused to pick up. the girl turned toward the direction of her original path, groaning at the pain before staying still at the person in front of her.
sunghoon was not too far from her, heavy pants being the only thing heard from him as he couldn’t believe his eyes. his heart dropped and his blood ran cold once he registered it was y/n.
✩ ‘cause i knew you’ ✩
from another perspective, hoon heard the girls beating someone up, but he didn’t know it was her.
he still ran, hoping to stop whatever was happening but was too late once he found that it was just one person in the scene.
they stayed at a good distance, nobody uttering a word as they found themselves glued to the ground, only staring in each others eyes.
✩ ‘stepping on the last train’ ✩
hoon’s face was filled with guilt, while y/n couldn’t help but resent him. it wasn’t his fault, but she wasn’t willing to face him either.
the main thing audible were their heavy breaths overlapping one another. they were both too scared to speak, afraid to break the unbearable silence that consumed them.
✩ ‘marked me like a bloodstain’ ✩
suddenly, his feet brought him closer to y/n, mouth slightly gaped open as his eyes were watery from how beaten she looked.
the sounds of gravel beneath his shoes were heard and she could only softly flinch. her body ached for attention with the new bruises that were forming on her skin, but she couldn’t stop filling her mind with sunghoon in front of her.
then a particularly painful sensation took over in her abdomen, forcing her to clench onto that area with her hands.
she softly groaned out a sigh, dry lips crackling with her hiss as little blood fell from it. her body was in agony and she couldn’t ignore it anymore.
her hands instinctively went to the railing near her, tightly gripping onto it for comfort. she squeezed her eyes shut though still determined to leave sunghoon.
however, her body failed her when the pain had filled almost every inch of her body.
a soft scream had escaped from her as she almost lost herself, expecting a harsh take to the ground but soon finding it a little easier to stand.
she felt a hand holding her forearm in place, keeping the grip tight so she wouldn’t fall.
it instantly registered to her who it was.
she grumbled an annoyed look toward sunghoon, not fully facing him as she harshly retracted her arm back.
“i don’t need you, sunghoon.” y/n spat out, attempting to walk away but failing when the pain increased.
she softly winced, clenching onto the railing more than she did before as she walked.
the boy trailed behind, gaze still worryingly scanning her.
“you’re hurt, y/n.”
“first time you noticed?” she shot back, voice cold with how unwilling she was to talk to him.
sunghoon’s face contorted into a saddened expression as she only sighed.
“go home.”
y/n tried to leave, but her body failed her once again. she almost fell to the ground, feeling like she lost complete control when he still kept his hold firm on her.
“i don’t want your help,” she scowled.
the girl tried to push him away, but accidentally fell into his arms instead. she felt his hands instantly snake to her waist, pulling her closer as she exhaled heavy breaths.
“i know you don’t want to see me, but i’m helping you either way. you’re too beaten to be by yourself.”
she was always a stubborn one, and he remembered that. her mouth opened to defend herself but found her voice to be weakened and drawn out, allowing him to take her back to his place without a fight.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
y/n was now sitting in sunghoon’s living room, house empty with his family gone for the night.
“ah, here we are.” he murmured, grabbing a few bandaids and cotton balls before sitting down next to her.
the girl kept her gaze down when she felt one side of the couch dip, unwilling to meet eyes with her old friend.
“i’m gonna clean your face,” he gently warned, careful with how he gave his tone.
his fingers hooked under her chin, leaning closer so he could finally wipe away the dried, crusted blood that was once fresh. she softly hissed, eyes shutting as sunghoon continued to dab the bloody areas.
he couldn’t believe she was in front of him again. granted, it was to clean her wounds but even through her bloody bruises, she was still the most beautiful girl in his eyes.
he just hated that he was the reason for this. his heart shattered whenever she heard her bite back her pain. he knew she was keeping up a wall up, and he knew why.
“y/n..,” he softly called. “can you look at me?”
he peered his gaze into her face, swallowing down a harsh lump as he awaited for an answer.
“no.” the girl harshly replied. “i don’t want to.”
hoon couldn’t help but scrunch his face in pain when he felt his heart sting from those very words, but he strived to continue.
his hand still held her in place, fingers slightly trembling as every second that passed was a striking reminder of how he couldn’t protect her.
“i’m sorry. this shouldn’t have happened to you. those girls are mean and vile, you didn’t even do anything.”
he truthfully hated that he found those girls to be his friends, hated that they were the ones responsible to have caused y/n to be in this state.
✩ ‘a friend to all is a friend to none’ ✩
“don’t.”
he tried to sooth her, and maybe even mend what was broken, but she couldn’t bear with it.
“don’t what?”
“don’t do this. i don’t want to hear you apologize about your friends, or about how sorry you are.” she mumbled, finally glancing up at him.
✩ ‘chase two girls, lose the one’ ✩
her heart almost melted when she was met with him, almost.
she was able to find his features that she loved most, along with how his hair flopped perfectly to the side, complimenting his pretty stare she could get lost into.
✩ ‘when you are young, they assume you know nothing’ ✩
but sunghoons heart instantly dropped and his gaze softened completely once she allowed herself to lock eye contact. his words were almost slurred with how much he was in a daze as he murmured — “but i am, y/n.”
it was almost incoherent in the way he only focused on admiring the girl in front of him.
✩ ‘but i knew you’ ✩
y/n pressed her lips into a firm line when she felt her eyes twinkle with tears. they danced around her eye bags as she felt her walls breaking down.
“if you are then why didn’t you protect me?” her lips trembled, voice trailing off once her tears threatened to fall. “you said you always would, and yet you weren’t there.”
sunghoon was at a loss for words. he opened his mouth to say something but he couldn’t — because she was right, he failed her.
“you weren’t there when they threw their backpacks on me and caused bruises, you weren’t there when they each took their hits, you weren’t there when they watched blood run down my lips..,” she stopped herself, biting back the tears. “so why would you be here for me now?”
the boy felt his world stop, guilt written all over his face as everything almost deafened in his ears. her words repeatedly lingered in his head, and he couldn’t get it out.
his fingers dropped the blood-filled cotton pads, thumbs quick to stroke her cheeks for comfort but she pushed them away.
forcing a tough exterior back up, y/n weakly stood with her body still in pain. she was quick to face the door — to leave all of this behind — but sunghoon’s hand had held onto her wrist.
his breaths began getting heavy again and he was almost close to breaking down.
“i still need to clean you up..,” he weakly mumbled, eyes scanning for her demeanor.
✩ ‘tried to change the ending’ ✩
he let his fingers cling onto her wrist just a little tighter in hopes of her obliging. he couldn’t let her leave in such a state.
y/n’s back faced his front as she was faced towards the door, chewing her lips close enough to draw another portion of blood out. she wanted to stay with him, just for the night at least, but no good ever came to interacting with sunghoon.
“i don’t need your help.” she reiterated. “i’ve done it without you before, i can do it without you again.”
✩ ‘peter losing wendy’ ✩
“y/n..,”
his call was almost like a light towards home, but it instantly flickered out with the reminder that he abandoned her.
✩ ‘but i knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss’ ✩
sunghoon gave a soft tug at her wrist, trying to get her attention back onto him as he swallowed down another guilt-eating lump in his throat.
“you walked out on me, sunghoon.”
she stopped herself when she felt her heart tighten in the dreaded pain of him. though every part of her body ached, her heart tore the most.
“now i’m gonna do the same.”
✩ ‘i knew you’d haunt all of my what ifs’ ✩
hoon let out unsteady breaths, indicating that tears had finally streamed down his cheeks. he bit his lips and sniffled, feeling like he was saying goodbye when he was quick to loosen his hold on her.
his fingers detangled from her but they didn’t drop completely, they still lingered around her wrist, ghosting over what he lost.
✩ ‘and i knew you’d come back to me’ ✩
when y/n felt his hold leave hers, she retracted her arm back and winced in pain.
no words were uttered as she walked towards the door, not bothering to glance back at sunghoon, who couldn’t help but feel guilty.
✩ ‘you’d come back to me’ ✩
the girl soon walked out on him as stated, and much like he did before, she was now the one to leave him.
✩ ‘and you’d come back’ ✩
★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★
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haikyu-mp4 · 2 days
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Huge frog fan
word count; 807 – f!reader, very suggestive, Sendai Frogs is a university team
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You were never interested in sports. Even when you went to high school at Karasuno and your school’s volleyball team made it to nationals for the first time in a while, your sole focus was academic achievement. It garnered you the best grades but you realised the second you had those that you were burnt out. Now that you’re in university, you’re a bit more relaxed as it’s easier to balance school and student living. You’ve changed.
So you let your best friend drag you along when your university’s volleyball team were playing a game against another university, in exchange for her buying you a drink before the game. A great deal, in your opinion, as the sweaty men jumping around and passing the ball to each other so nicely wasn’t too bad either. “They’re so great at sharing,” you joked, making your friend look at you weirdly. “The ball, I mean.”
“Yeah, I got that,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Then your eyes actually zeroed in on one particular player who you hadn’t noticed yet because he was from the opposing team, and you coughed wildly as the drink got stuck in your throat. That’s fucking Tsukishima Kei, your closest thing to an academic rival in high school.
You caught your breath, eyes still stuck on him with disbelief because why is he suddenly not so lanky. He filled out the uniform quite nicely, and he must have gotten even taller. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I have,” you said in the most dramatic voice like it’s an old movie. Your friend snorted, asking about who it was. “That one, Tsukishima. We went to high school together. He was... not this hot,” you answered, biting the tip of your thumb nail.
“The one with the glasses? Didn’t see that for you but go on,” she hummed in thought, not necessarily judging. As if in the nick of time, a break was called and he walked off, more huddled between the other frog shirts. Green wasn’t his colour, you lied to yourself. You couldn’t help how you zoned out as he seemed to be taping up his fingers, your eyes honed in on those hands. Those are some attractive hands.
You started smiling, sipping your drink with an extra slurp to make sure you had your companion’s attention. “He is so coming home with me.”
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After the game, you went to the bar for a glass of water, grabbing a straw so you can chew on it while sipping and looking around for the tall blocker. You hum under your breath. Did he leave the room already?
Your friend already left to get on with her business, but not before winking at you with encouragement. You got this, you repeated in your head until your view was filled with green. There he was, talking to another guy from his team who seemed to do just fine talking even though Tsukishima didn’t answer much. You tapped his shoulder.
Oh, wow. For a second, you couldn’t find your words, mind rinsing through less innocent thoughts at how he looked up close, sweat still leftover on parts of his skin, especially his neck. Suddenly the water wasn’t hydrating enough for you. And it got even worse when he lifted a hand to wipe away a drop of sweat, giving you another look at those hands up close. “Tsukki!” you cooed, knowing he at least didn’t like that nickname before. “Long time no see.”
He seemed to squint for a moment, either quite annoyed or making sure he recognised you from the right place. You’re different, but it’s definitely you. “Can’t complain about that,” he answered, and the meanness of it made you smile wider. Great, his personality is still terrible. Just your type. “Thought you weren’t interested in sports.”
“People change,” you said, a challenging spark in your eye as you traced your pointed finger down the middle of his chest. “I’m a huge frog fan.” You were so obviously teasing his team’s bright uniform and cute name that you were pleasantly surprised when one corner of his mouth seemed to tweak upwards even though the familiar tsk-sound fell off his lips. Score.
Next thing you knew, your back was pressed against the inside of the door to your apartment, one of Tsukishima’s arms on each side locking you in while his lips devoured yours. He moved on to placing hungry kisses on your neck, his arms falling to your sides while your heavy breath mixed with muffled moans rang in his ear.
He leaned in close to your ear, his words whispered and sending a chill down your spine that made you clench your thighs together before he forced his knee between them. “Your lips taste even better than they used to, but you’re still a brat.”
masterlist
171 notes · View notes
slvttyplum · 5 hours
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you were so in love with aki that you found everything he did sexy.
something that you found so sexy was when aki would smoke during sex, yet pay full attention to your wants, needs, and pleasure. he was only distracted for a moment until his attention was all on you again. this wasn’t him just smoking to smoke; he would fuck you all night long most of the time, so sometimes he would need a little intermission between strokes.
letting his hair down and putting the rubber band around your wrist while taking a puff of his cigarette. he never stopped fucking you, even if he really had to; he was going to find any reason to stay inside of you and have your wet walls clamped around him. it was unnecessary to do anything if it meant he had to stop fucking you.
everything he did was just so attractive that it heightened during sex. taking down his ponytail? sexy, talking softly? sexy, asking if you were okay? sexy. it was the bare minimum, but you still found it attractive.
the cigarette smell didn’t turn you off; instead, you liked it. it was a nasty smell for most, yes, but aki himself had a very sweet natural scent, a scent that someone could smell from a foot away, so his natural scent mixed with the smoke to create something calming.
there was something so soothing about his smell, presence, and voice in general that it drove you crazy, and you didn’t even want to admit how much you loved it all. his soft voice if you ear while he’s inside of you, whispering, asking if he’s hurting you or if you wanted him to go faster or slower. his usual speed was perfect, yet he asked every time.
he was a man made of gold that you couldn’t stop looking at. you were so infatuated with him that it made your stomach swarm with butterflies. aki was so soft and caring towards you that you never wanted to let him go; he was always on your mind. like, who wouldn’t fuck a guy who treated you like the most precious thing?
sliding his fingers in between yours while he was inside of you and giving you soft pecks on the lips as he looked into your eyes, and nowhere else, all his focus was on you, his pupils growing bigger and bigger. as much as you were in love with him, he loved you even more.
there was something that turned him on and made his heart skip a beat whenever he was inside of you and looking at you straight in the eye, his body on yours. he could feel how fast your heart was beating, and it turned him on to know that he could get your heart beating that fast.
as much as you found him sexy, he found you even sexier, especially under him.
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Text
。°✩ PROVE IT !
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pairings: female!reader x matt sturniolo & slight mentions of chris.
summary: when you find your ex making out with somebody at a party two days after you break up, you decide to get some revenge, seeking out the one guy who will piss him off the most—his very own enemy and brotter, Matt Sturiolo.
warnings: drugs, alcohol, toxic chris + toxic matt, mentions of toxic relationship, female + male receiving, doggy style, recording?? dom!matt x switch (mostly sub) reader!
A&N: matt and chris do NOT get along in this btw they’ve got some sibling rivalry this is purely fictional so obvs i don’t think this is how they act in real life!
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The house reeked of alcohol, weed, and sex—a combination that you wouldn't complain about on a normal day, but today wasn't a normal day; it was hell. The speakers blared some type of shitty trap music, and if you hadn't introduced your ex to real music, you would think that he was the one on aux tonight. 
You were pissed off, which wasn't something unusual; you were usually in a bad mood, but tonight one particular person put you in an extra bad mood, ruining your entire night. 
your ex.
 christopher sturniolo.
 Chris Sturniolo walked into your life like a storm that was dying to cause some destruction. and as you look back on your year-and-a-half relationship, you realise that's exactly what he had done. You first met each other at a party in your freshman year of college. your roommate, who had finally decided to sleep in your dorm tonight instead of staying at her boyfriends like she did every. single. night. dragged you to some kind of frat party and then ditched you for her boyfriend. You didn't mind. she actually asked you first if you were cool with her leaving, and at first you thought it was a good idea until you realised you didn't actually know anyone here, so you were left alone on your own devices with a full bottle of tequila.
It took you ten minutes to find your way around the frat, but you finally found the kitchen and found refuge in the fact that it was empty, so you did what any freshmen would do: drown your sorrows in alcohol because you were slightly too socially awkward to make new friends.
You were alone for a full twenty-five minutes until a group of obnoxious guys walked in, all talking loudly and pissing you off instantly. You wanted some alone time, and these stupidly drunk guys were ruining that. Your lips were twitching in a frown until your eye caught onto the last guy who walked into the kitchen, and you were instantly mesmerised. 
It took him a minute, since he was so caught up on talking to his friends and laughing too loudly, but his eyes locked into yours, and they twinkled. There was just something about him that drew you to him, and so with some (a lot) of liquid courage since you had managed to down a large amount of the tequila, you walked over to him in attempts to start a conversation, hoping he'd eagerly respond and not laugh in your face. 
He didn't laugh in your face.
Instead, he smiled at you, instantly sparking a conversation that he wordlessly carried, and to your surprise, your anxiety slipped away. You talked to him so easily. The conversation flowed for hours, with his friends biding him goodbye as they were off to meet some other friends or something.
an hour or something into your conversation, he split some tequila onto your white shirt and apolgosied profusely. It was your favourite shirt, but you were too drunk to care, and he was too cute. You didn't want to act dramatic and scare him away, so you let him grab your hand, trying to ignore the sparks as he dragged you gently up the stairs and towards the bathroom, attempting to get the stain away. He was sure it would work.
 It didn't work.
You couldn't help but laugh at him, at how focused he was on getting the stain away when you didn't even care. The next thing you knew, you were staring at each other, and then your lips were connected, and all of a sudden you were making out, and then you were fucking in some random bathroom for what felt like hours. 
and after that, you and Chris spent all your time together. It was like you were stuck by some kind of glue, as you never left each other's sides. You haven't known each other that long, but it felt like you were meant to be. You weren't officially dating yet; you were scared of commitment, and so was Chris, so you just stuck with having sex, and the sex was fucking amazing. You would go to visit Chris after his practice every day. Once they were all packed up and his friends had left, he'd drag you to his room and serenade you with his guitar, resulting in you two fucking. again.
and you guys would repeat the cycle basically every night.
 You started showing up to his practices, deciding you wanted to actually get to know his friends. Chris would occasionally teach you how to play the guitar, and you started to fall in love with music. So you helped him come up with a band name, book gigs, and budget because, god knows, none of the boys knew how to do that and design their outfits. You went to every gig hiding behind the scenes because you hated being on stage, but they all treated you like you were part of the band because, with how much you did, you were part of them. 
You helped with all of it even before Chris finally managed to lock it down a week later.
 With how much time you spent with Chris, you thought you knew everything about him. After all, you guys would stay up all night just watching the stars as you smoked on his roof and talked. But it turned out that Chris had forgotten to mention one tiny little thing to you.
 or rather three.
 It turned out that Chris had a brother. but not just one of them. No, he had three brothers, and he hadn’t told you about a single one of them. Imagine your surprise when you show up at Chris's doorstep wearing nothing but a long trench coat and Chris's favourite lingerie set when someone who looks similar to your boyfriend but isn't quite your boyfriend opens the door with his own surprise etched on his face until he starts smirking.
 That was the first day that you met Matt, and you quickly learned that the reason Chris never spoke about his brothers, especially Matt, was because he didn't get along with him. at. all. 
Every time you showed up at his house, Chris and Matt would get into some kind of argument that lasted for hours and got way out of hand faster than needed. According to Nick, they had some kind of feud and always had.
 At first, you didn't have a problem with Matt. He was your boyfriend's brother, and even if Chris didn't necessarily get along with him, you didn't want to be rude. but eventually the way he'd always talk down to Chris annoyed you, and the way he'd always smirk at you when he'd see you. at parties, at his house, even at the dinner table! He'd sit opposite you, smirking at you as if he knew some kind of secret that you didn't know, and it drove you up the fucking wall.
 You later found out that Matt was a womaniser, and that was a good reason for you to stay far away from him. You decided that if he wasn't going to be nice to you or your boyfriend, then you'd ignore him too. In hindsight, maybe it wasn't the nicest thing to do, but you didn't have much of a choice considering Chris instantly dragged you away when Matt was in sight. 
but things were different now. Sure, back then Chris could have a say and decide what you could do. He had always been annoyingly controlling, but he had fucked you over so you could speak to whoever you wanted and do whatever the fuck you pleased. It was two days ago when Chris broke up with you, claiming he believed the relationship wasn't working out anymore and that you guys were heading down different paths. He had literally dropped out of college only a week ago, and his band, after a year of being together, had only slightly started to pick up, so you weren't even sure what the fuck he was talking about; you were just pissed off.
 Once again, your roommate had dragged you to this party you didn't want to be at. Only this time you bumped into your ex, who was making out with some blonde girl on a couch. His only response when he noticed you caught him was a shrug.
 a fucking shrug!
 Now listen, you and Chris have broken up multiple times in the past year. Whenever an argument went too far, you'd decide to break up, but you'd always find your way to the other's house an hour later, but this time it was different. It had only been two days, Chris hadn't turned up to your house, and now he was making out with some random girl.
 You were pissed off. 
You usually don't smoke much, mostly because of your stupid ex, who always had to have a say in what you did, and you stupidly let him. had a problem with it. That never stopped him from smoking, though. With how annoyed you are now, though, a smoke seems like the only thing that will stop you from either having a breakdown in front of this whole party or killing Chris, so you quickly make your way outside, pushing the door open as you unzip your bag, beginning to fish through it for a cigarette. 
As you finally pulled the cigarette from your bag, a trail of curses left your mouth. your mind going back to your stupid ex, who had apparently moved on just fine, which just pissed you off more. You wanted to piss Chris off and hurt him just like he had hurt you. You needed to find someone to make out with and maybe do a little something more, but you needed it to seem real. God knows, you couldn't fake anything anymore. but who? Sure, you could walk up to a random guy at a party, it wouldn't take much to convince him to makeout with you. but again, you didn't want to fake it. which left your options very limited. 
so who?
nathan?
nah. he was just like chris.
"Need a lighter sweetheart?"
You didn't even need to turn around; the all-too-familiar cocky smooth tone hit your ears, causing your lips to slightly curve into a smirk.
It looks like you found your guy.
Matt leaned against the railings. His arms crossed over his chest as he watched you with a smirk on his face. It was the same smirk he gave you every time you walked past him. It was the same smirk he gave you when he first caught you checking him out when you first met. and it was the same smirk he gave you and Chris when you were all sitting at the table and he sat opposite you.
Matt was a pain in your ass, a thorn in your side, an annoyance you desperately wished you could flick away, but you couldn't, not when you were with Chris. but maybe you could now.
Chris would freak the fuck out if he knew you were even standing this close to Matt, let alone about to smoke a joint with him, but that made it all the more exciting. All you wanted to do right now was piss off Chris, and you knew that's all Matt ever wanted to do too. Before you can drag out the joint to answer him, he acts quicker, brushing his fingertips on your chin, almost tugging you closer to him. He licks his lips, wetting them with a chuckle.
He held the lighter up to the tip of the joint, watching as the flame licked at the dried herb. The smell wafted up, filling the air between them. He looked up at you, his eyes darkening slightly as he took in your appearance. He released the lighter, letting it dangle from its chain around his fingers.
His gaze lingered on your lips, and he wondered how they'd taste. He wondered how they'd feel wrapped around his cock. He wondered if they were as soft as they looked. 
Your red dress that hugs your figure so perfectly that it makes Matt internally groan rides up your thighs when you straighten up. Taking an inhale from the joint, you blow the smoke in his face without a care. He watches each of your movements, the stupid smirk sitting on his lips growing wider the more his eyes move up and down your body. You almost want to chuckle at how easy this is.
He reached out, grabbing your wrist lightly. He pulled you closer to him until your bodies were just barely touching. He leaned in, whispering in your ear.
He knew exactly how to push your buttons, and he loved every second of it.
"You know Chris would lose his shit if he saw us out here together, right?"
His breath tickled your ear as he whispered the words, sending shivers down your spine. You could practically hear the smugness in his voice. He knew exactly how to get under your skin.
You glared at him, pulling away slightly. You took another drag from the joint, blowing the smoke in his direction again. You wanted to provoke him and see what he'd do next.
"Maybe I want him to see us together," you said, your voice low and sultry.
His eyes widened slightly in surprise before a smirk spread across his face. It felt like this was the most important thing that you'd ever said to him. Usually you just glare at him or simply ignore his existence, so to see you like this, smile at him, looking at him all boldly in that slutty red dress. fuck. He stepped closer, his hands finding their way to your hips. He pulled you flush against him, feeling the heat radiating off of you.
"Is that so?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave lower. "You want to make Chris jealous?"
He leaned in, his lips hovering just barely above yours. He could feel your breath hitching, and he knew he had you where he wanted you.
 Little did he know you had him where you wanted him.
Matt was all about the chase. and you knew how to play that game all too well.
You licked your lips slightly, and Matt smirked as he trailed his hand up your arm. "You know... I always thought that you needed someone better to take care of you.”
You raised your eyebrows. "Someone like you?" You asked sarcastically, provoking him even more, and with the way his eyes darkened, you could tell it was working.
His smirk grew wider, his hand trailing down her arm to rest on your hip. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear.
"Exactly like me."
Your eyes twinkled. "prove it."
you challenged him, your eyes locked on his. you could feel the tension building between you, and you knew there was no turning back now. but that's exactly what yoy wanted, not that you would admit that to me out loud ever. you just wanted to push him some more and see how far he would go. Would he really kiss his brother's ex-girlfriend? Would he fuck you? God, would he eat you ou-
He chuckled softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "Always such an angel, hm?"
You smiled devilishly. You were starting to get impatient with all this talk. You weren't much for talking, especially when you felt your panties dappen even more, something Chris had never managed to do with some looks and words. You knew what Matt was doing; he wanted you to make the first move to brag that you had given in first, and if that's what it was going to take, you would do it. You're in his hands now. You grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to meet your lips in a passionate kiss.
He groaned into the kiss, his tongue darting out to tangle with yours. His hands roamed down the sides of your body, moving towards your ass to squeeze it, causing you to moan, leaving Matt to smirk into the kiss.
You pushed Matt against the wall, grinding your hips against his. You could feel his cock throbbing against you, making you moan into the kiss. You broke the kiss only to pant against his lips. "Upstairs," you said breathlessly as Matt reconnected your lips again and again, pulling at them harshly.
Matt pulled away from her lips just enough to say, "Yeah, upstairs." 
He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. He could feel your hips grinding against him, and he found himself getting harder. He wanted you; he always had. But this was different; this was revenge, and that made it all the sweeter.
you purposely grinded against Matt as you felt Chris's eyes on yoy. before you giggled, dragging Matt upstairs and waving to Chris sweetly as you passed him. disappearing out his sight. 
Matt grinned, following you up the stairs. He watched you, admiring your form. He couldn't wait to have you bent over the bed, begging for him to fuck you. He knew it would be good, but he didn't think it would be this good.
His eyes flicked over to Chris, and he gave him a little wave too, copying your actions before disappearing up the stairs with you. He knew Chris would be furious, and that made him even more smug.
Chris had always told him to stay away from you, and now he was going to do the exact opposite. 
You slammed the door shut behind you, locking it, before pushing Matt against the wall. You pinned him there with your body, pressing your breasts against his chest as you kissed him passionately.
Matt groaned into the kiss, his hands roaming over your body. He squeezed your ass, pulling your hips tighter against his. He could feel your hard nipples pressing against his chest, and he found himself getting harder.
"God, I've wanted you for so long," he murmured against her lips before kissing her again.
"Prove it," you teased again.
 Matt growled, his teeth nipping at your neck. He could smell the alcohol on your breath, and he found himself getting more aroused. He wanted you; he wanted to claim you as his.
"I will," he promised. "How about I prove it to you and Chris?"
Confusion appeared on your face until Matt motioned to what was in his hand. a camera. excitement pooled in your stomach. Did he want to film you? Was he going to send it to Chris? You keep her face neutral, trying not to get your hopes up, knowing that if you were wrong, Matt would tease you for it forever.
Matt grinned, holding the camera up to show you. He leaned in, capturing your faces in the lens. He clicked the button, snapping a picture of you and then him. He then moved the camera down, pointing it at your cleavage.
"Trust me, Chris is going to love seeing this."
Chris wasn't going to love this. He was going to hate both of you. you knew that and so did he get that made it more exicitng. the idea of fucking his britter? the one Chris made sure to keep you away from at all costs? It turned you on so much, and Matt is filming you guys? Chris had never done such a thing, which just showed how different they were.
"You look so fucking hot." Matt murmured as he switched the camera to video and pointed at you, telling you to say hi to Chris, which you did, looking at the camera all shyly.
"Don't be shy, baby." Matt tutted as he lifted your chin up with his finger. "Chris brought this upon himself, being such an ass to you." he taunted.
You bit your lip as Matt slowly unzipped your dress, leaving you in your lacy bra and pants, which made him groan. "fuckk"
You reached behind and unhooked your bra, letting it fall to the floor, exposing your perky tits. "Now you," you said, tugging at the bottom of his shirt as your other hand trailed towards his budge.
Matt smirked as he faced the camera towards you. "See, Chris, your girl is begging to see my cock, but she never begged for yours like that, did she?"
If you weren't so turned on, you would roll your eyes at all the digs Matt was making. He was clearly doing this for the exact same reason as you to get back at Chris, only wanting to extend their britter rivalry longer, but you were literally dropping, so you ignored his digs, just agreeing to whatever he said so he could hurry up and just do something!
Matt must have sensed your desperation as he chuckled slightly, looking at you expectantly as he harshly pushed you onto the floor, making you moan pathetically. Chris had always been too soft when you fucked, which you didn't mind most of the time, but sometimes you wanted to be treated like a slut, and you knew Matt would do exactly that. "Well, go on then," Matt said. "Suck it."
You grinned wickedly as Matt stripped his shirt off. You kneeled before him, reaching for his belt. You undid it quickly, pulling his pants and underwear down enough to free his cock. You looked up at him, your lips wrapping around his length. You began to suck him off, your hand stroking the base of his cock as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft.
Matt moaned, running his fingers through your hair. He could feel your mouth working on him. "Fuck, you're so good at that," he murmured, thrusting his hips forward harshly.
You continued to suck Matt off, taking his thick cock deeper and deeper into your throat. You gagged slightly as you took every inch of his cock into your throat. Your eyes were glazed over with lust as you sucked him off hungrily.
Matt was so big. bigger than Chris. You couldn't wait for the moment his cock was inside you. God, you were literally going dumb thinking at that moment. 
Matt angled the camera down at you, chuckling as you moaned as she took more of his cock. "That's it, baby, you're doing so good."
You moaned at his words. Praise had always been one of your biggest kinks, and hearing Matt praise you surprised turned you on even more. 
You continued to suck Matt off, taking his entire cock into your throat over and over. You moaned softly as you felt him throb in your mouth. You continued to stroke the base of his cock as you sucked him off.
Matt groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair. He could feel himself getting close, and he wasn't sure if he could hold back much longer.
"I'm going to cum," he warned, pulling out of your mouth. He aimed his cock at your chest, groaning as he came. He painted your tits with his cum, watching as it dripped down your skin. He groaned as he pointed the camera at your chest, watching as you swiped some with your fingers and sucked on it, moaning in response.
"Your girl is such a slut, Chris. This is why you've been hiding her from me this whole time, huh?"
You licked up the remnants of Matt's cum from your fingers, smacking your lips. You winked at the camera as you did so, looking seductively into the lens before standing up and seductively walking up to the bed, making sure to sway your hips as Matt chuckled, walking behind you and smacking your ass harshly.
 Matt chuckled, slapping your ass again. He could see the red mark left by his hand, and it only made him want to do it again.
"You're such a bad girl, baby," he purred, his hand trailing down to your pussycat. He rubbed your clit through your panties, feeling how wet you was. "You like that, don't you?" He smirked as he saw the wet spot on your panties. You were enjoying this as much as he was.
You shivered as Matt touched your pussy through your panties. You nodded, biting your lip as you tried to suppress a moan.
Matt chuckled, pulling your panties aside. He slipped two fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out slowly. He curled them, finding your g-spot and rubbing it, still receiving no response as gasps left your mouth. 
"You like that?" he taunted. 
You cried out in pleasure as he rubbed your g-spot. You arched your back, pressing yourself further onto his fingers. You could feel the cold metal of his rings against your clit, and it was driving you insane. 
"words sweetheart." Matt threatened as his pace slowed down.
You whimpered as Matt slowed his pace. You hated that he did that, especially now that you were so close to cumming. You were so desperate for release. "Please... please don't stop," you whined. 
Your voice was shaky as you spoke. You had never been this horny in your life. All you could think about was how badly you needed to cum.
Matt chuckled, speeding up his pace. He could hear the desperation in your voice, and it only spurred him on more.
"That's it; just beg for it," he teased, adding a third finger to stretch your pussy out even more.
you screamed as matt added another finger to your pussy. you couldn't believe how full you were right now. you didn't know whether to be embarrassed or turned on by how loud she was being.
"Oh god! oh fuck!" matt smirked and leaned down licking her pussy.
Matt smiled, licking your pussy again. He could taste how wet you were, and it only made him want to eat you out more. He buried his face between your legs, licking and sucking on your clit.
"You're so fucking tasty," he murmured against your pussy, continuing to lick and suck on your clit.
You screamed out in ecstasy as Matt ate you out. You had never felt anything quite like this before. Even when Chris used to eat you out, it was never anything like this. You could feel an intense wave of pleasure building up inside of you. "oh fuck! i'm gonna-"
Matt kept eating you out. ignoring how you attempted to push him away. "Cum for me, baby," he said.
As Matt told you to, you lost control. You screamed out as your body tensed up. Your pussycat clenched tightly around nothing as you rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. 
Matt watched as you came, your body trembling with pleasure. He could see how much you enjoyed it, and it only made it harder.
"Such a good girl for me, hm?" He smirked as he positioned the camera on the table.
You lay there panting, trying to catch your breath after the intense orgasm. You hated to admit it, but you don't think Chris ever made you come that hard. Before you can reply, Matt suddenly flips you over.
Your eyes widen. "Matt, I don't think I can take it." You shake your head. Your legs were already shaking. Fuck that. your entire body was already shaking simply from Matt eating you out. You're far too sensitive. You don't think you can survive anything else anymore.
 Matt chuckled darkly. "What happened to me proving it to you, baby?" he asked.
Your lips clamp shut as Matt repeats your earlier words back to you. As sensitive as you are, you unfortunately never back down from a. Challenge aside, if Matt is that good at giving an orgasm from that alone, surely getting fucked will be a million times better, so you whine as he smacks your ass again.
Matt smirked as he saw your wetness drop down your thighs. Seeing you on all fours like this made you a million times hotter. Hell, the way you were moaning and whining for him, you were slowly becoming a hot mess for him. The lipstick smudged all over your face, showing that. 
"You're such a dirty little slut," he murmured, sliding his cock into you from behind. He gripped your hips tightly, pounding into you hard.
"And you love every second of it."
You didn't have the energy to argue; you were still trying to catch your breath after your last orgasm, but even if you could argue, you wouldn't deny it; you were loving every second of this.
You gasped as Matt slid his cock into you even deeper. You loved how deep he went inside of you. You could feel every single inch of him filling you up. "Fuck Matt, yes!" you moaned out in pleasure as he pounded into you.
Matt slapped your ass again, figuring out that the last time he did it, you liked it. He smirked as you moaned loudly as the sound echoed through the room. "You love my cock, don't you, baby?" he asked. 
You whined about the pleasure being too much; you couldn't reply until Matt slammed into you even harder, causing you to fall into the mattress. 
"I said, Do you love my cock?" Matt repeated grabbing onto your hair as your ass was in the air and your head was buried in the pillow. tears pooled in your eyes;; thepleasure wase was too much.
"yes matt! yes! I love your cock!" you moaned. 
Matt smirked and reached around, pinching your nipples as he fucked you.
"such a fucking whore loving mine and my brothers cock hm?"
His words made you feel even dirtier. Chris was never that good at small talk, but the filth that was leaving Matt's mouth made you go insane.
You could feel your body responding to each of his movements. You were so turned on right now that you could hardly reply. "Yes!  Fuck yes, Matt!"
Matt chuckled. He loved how fucked up you looked, and he loved even more how fast you were becoming a mess for him. He gripped onto your waist, fucking you even faster from behind if that's even possible, loving the loud moans that leave your mouth. He can't believe his brother was the lucky guy able to fuck Chris; he didn't even do it right. You were probably left unsatisfied, and that just made Matt want to make you even more of a mess for him. 
You let out a loud cry as Matt pulled your hair even harder. You could feel your body shaking as he continued to fuck you. You were so close to losing it again. "Matt!" you gasped, whine falling from your lips as you couldn't even form a sentence correctly. "i’m gonna cum aga-"
Matt chuckled upon hearing you say you were going to cum again. He loved seeing you lose control like this. He quickened his pace, thrusting into you hard.
"Then do it, cum for me."
You screamed out as Matt thrust into you hard. You could feel your entire body tensing up as you got closer and closer to cumming. Finally, you couldn't hold back anymore, and you came. hard.
"oh fuck! i'm cumming!"
Matt could feel your pussycle clenching around his cock, and it pushed him over the edge. He groaned loudly, filling you up with his cum.
"That's it; take my cum." He was praised as you moaned loudly, begging for him to come in.
Matt chuckled, thrusting into you one last time. He filled her up with his hot cum, painting her insides white, and then pulled her out, watching as their cum that was mixed together dropped out of her. 
"There's a good girl," he praised, kissing her back softly.
You were far too out of it to even reply. You just bummed softly as Matt trailed kisses on your collarbone, softly rubbing your sides as he asked, "Are you okay?"
You nodded your head. "Yeah, that was just." You trailed off, hoping he got the hint, and of course the cocky fucker did.
"amazing? the best you ever had? magical?" 
You laughed and pushed him away from you. "Shut the fuck, you freak," you said. You were still trying to catch your breath, so you flopped back onto the bed, lying on the mattress, as Matt chuckled before disappearing somewhere. 
You didn't question him; he was too tired to even ask where he was going, but he returned moments later with a bottle of tequila, a rag to clean you up, and a spare t-shirt of his. 
He smirked up at you as he locked the door and pulled out a joint. "You want to dedicate a joint to that special somebody or what?" 
You rolled your eyes at the boy but let him clean you up, put his t-shirt on you, and the pair of you spent the rest of the night drinking tequila, sharing the joint, and ignoring any calls Chris left either of you. 
。°✩
BYEE was this too much? i feel like i lowk went overboard but i also feel like this kinda sucks idk but let me know if you guys want a pt 2 or not cause i had an idea of some jealous chris sex☺️
252 notes · View notes
tiredfox64 · 2 days
Note
I was thinking how would Bihan react if he was caught staring at the reader a little to long and gets teased by it from the other guys? Imagine how flustered he would be 😁
I Spy
Prior notes: I just thought about Bi-Han looking at me and idk it’s giving alternative looking at me in the corner of my room.
Pairing: Bi-Han x Gn reader
Warnings ‼️: There’s a spider in my bathroom pls kill it.
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You certainly capture the eyes of men. Many different men actually. All kinds of men. The kind, the mean, the strong, the cocky, the calm, and many more. But one man out of the bunch was looking at you for a long time.
Bi-Han thought this visit to the Wu Shi academy would be quick. A quick conversation with Liu Kang that will allow him to be in and out. Of course Liu Kang was nowhere to be seen at first. The only notable person he could see was you. You were in the cooling shade as the wind blew the leaves of the trees which casted pretty shadows all over you.
In that instance he was enchanted by your presence. Your beauty captivated him. It was as if he was looking at a majestic deer calmly move through a mystical forest.
All you were doing was occasionally raking the sand in the zen garden. You were very focused on making the circles clean and precise so you never even knew Bi-Han was looking at you.
There was a perplexed look in his eyes. He was almost observing you. He can’t figure out why he is so drawn in by you. You are doing a menial task. Yet the nature around you was presenting your natural beauty to him with the way the shadows and sunlight danced on your body and the wind glided over your hair.
Bi-Han was so lost in this moment that he forgot that there were others around. He was stuck in a world where it was only you and him. That was until he heard someone speak near his ear.
“What are we looking at?” Asked Johnny
Bi-Han was caught off guard and threw a punch at Johnny’s direction while he luckily avoided this time. He’s not making that mistake twice.
Bi-Han saw that the whole group was near him. Kenshi, Johnny, Kung Lao, and Raiden were staring at him like he was crazy for throwing a punch.
“Nothing. What do you want? Where is Liu Kang?” Bi-Han tried to switch the top immediately but these boys won’t allow him that freedom.
“So you’re not going to acknowledge the fact that you were standing there for a good five minutes.” Kenshi spoke with his usual attitude.
Was Bi-Han really standing there and staring for that long? No, Kenshi has to be messing with him.
“We came over about three minutes in because you would not move. We were even whispering among ourselves yet you didn’t react.” Raiden added on.
Okay so he was just standing there like an idiot. He thought he was there for only a minute how did you manage to make him stay in once place and forget his purpose of being there.
“Well boys, I think I know what’s up with Mr. Grumpypants. He’s crushing hard on our special gardener over there.” Johnny wrapped his arm around Bi-Han which he promptly slapped away.
Like the immature men that Johnny and Kung Lao could be they started letting out a ‘ooo’ like middle school boys would do when they find out their friend has a crush. Bi-Han was shushing them with this somewhat panicky expression. Raiden was trying to hold himself back from chuckling at the fact that this cold-blooded warrior was getting flustered while Kenshi seemed confused by that fact. Kuai Liang and Tomas soon heard the commotion and came over.
“What is the matter, Bi-Han? Did you find Liu Kang yet?” Kuai Liang asked.
“He didn’t find Liu Kang but he found himself a new crush.” Kung Lao made a joke which threw Kuai Liang off. What did he mean by that?
“Are you okay? You seem flushed. Are you sick?” Tomas went to place his hand on Bi-Han’s forehead to check his temperature but he moved away.
Incredible! There is some color on his face. The color of embarrassment. Yes, Bi-Han was blushing at the fact that everyone was teasing him and exposing him. This has never happened before to him so he is unsure of how to solve this.
The only thing that came to mind was use his powers to make everyone back off. In an instance, jagged pieces of ice came out from the ground. They aimed at everyone which made them back up from Bi-Han. They were poking the bear they shouldn’t be shocked that he would pull something like this. Cold vapor was coming off his body due to using his powers and from his frustration.
“You incompetent fools have no respect. Keep your mouths shut!” He barked at them.
The group wasn’t looking at him anymore but past him. He was confused at first before he turned around and saw that you were staring at him with a concerned expression on your face. You were unsure what all the hullabaloo was about and you were now wondering if it was about you since they were all staring at you. You looked at Bi-Han and trying to keep the peace you gave him a wave with this somewhat awkward smile on your face.
Bi-Han had no idea what to do now. A low rumble came from his throat as he thought of what to do. He gave you a halfassed wave before quickly walking off. His head was lowered as he walked off. His brothers quickly left as well to catch up to him. You were left looking at who was still there before asking something.
“Do I need to clean up that ice?”
══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══
Liu Kang was looking at Bi-Han strangely. He was wearing his mask for no reason while his brothers didn’t.
He can tell by Bi-Han’s body language that he was upset by something. Not an angry upset but an embarrassed upset. His arms are folded and his head is lowered. Liu Kang looked to Kuai Liang and Tomas for an answer but they didn’t want to say. All they knew was that their eldest brother put his mask on to prevent anyone from seeing that he was blushing.
“I’m guessing something happened before you came to me. You do realize how red the tips of your ears are, right, Bi-Han?” Liu Kang pointed out.
Bi-Han let out a frustrated growl before covering his ears with his hands. The look of shame in his eyes was clear as day to Liu Kang. Still doesn’t answer what happened out there.
Kuai Liang tried his hardest not to laugh while Tomas was gesturing to Liu Kang is he could step out. Liu Kang nodded and Tomas booked it out the room so he could laugh.
“You must cool down, brother. Wouldn’t want your crush to walk in at any moment and see how red you are.” Kuai Liang teased.
“Silence, Kuai Liang!”
After notes: He don’t even have a resting bitch face he got a ‘I’m going to end your bloodline’ face. WHO ARE HIS OPPS BRUH! WHO’S MAKING BLUD THAT MAD! It’s me. I’m his opp. Imma flick his ear now. Adiós!
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pixxyofice · 6 hours
Text
🏰 cursinguponcastles
of course i manage to grab everything EXCEPT for my anxiety medications. they're still stuck there!! in the House!!! every night I worry my friends are going to leave me for asking them to come along and some part of my brain is like "you wouldn't be worrying if you had taken your meds" and I have to then tell my brain the meds. ARE NOT WITH ME!!!
(this post is unrebloggable.)
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(anon) asked:
plum? how have you been running this blog without anxiety meds?
🏰 cursinguponcastles replied:
Um! How did you know I didn't have my anxiety meds??
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(anon) asked:
Don't the Houses keep stuff, like, forever? I'm sure if you go back to that House you'll be able to get your meds back. Unless it's like, frozen or something?
🏰 cursinguponcastles replied:
Oh. Ohhhh. Well, um! I am going back to get them! They're back in Dormont! I just won't be focused on getting my meds when I'm there, you know??
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🎗 ribbpeat reblogged from 🍑 yetanotherfinepeach
🍑 yetanotherfinepeach
so was anyone going to tell me the savior of vaugarde runs a horror blog account or was I supposed to just find that out from her APPARENTLY LEAVING HER MEDS IN THE CENTER FREEZING POINT
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🍙 chateau-riceballs reblogged from 🧦 socks-to-be
🍯 lovelyhoney-truths
and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, the savior of vaugarde turns out to be a tumblr user
🛴 offowchmy-nkee
and this is bad... how?
🍯 lovelyhoney-truths
How is this not obvious to you people? She's on tumblr. She's been ACTIVE. Instead of doing her job of saving us she's been giggling about her little vaugarde boys getting eaten. I'm sitting here typing with one arm waiting for vaugarde to be saved, and she's wasting time reading. Boo-hoo she left her anxiety meds in the House where the King is freezing all of us from. Actually, wait! Why didn't she just turn around and take him out? If she's supposed to save vaugarde, assigned to, and she was close to its starting point, why the hell did she walk the other direction and faff about?! Some Savior she is! Most of the country is frozen because of her! And instead of just shutting up and doing her job she went on a funny little pilgrimage. I'm not calling her a Savior anymore. 
🐱 ChangeGirlClaws
do you know about the existence of paragraph breaks. Like at all.
🎀 darts-chatting-blogg
Instead of looking at... all of that, apparently not everybody knows this so look at this.
THE DOORS OF DORMONT GOT LOCKED BY THE KING AND THE SAVIORS HAVE TO FIND FIVE ORBS TO BE ABLE TO EVEN TRY TO SAVE US. And in case you don't know, Vaugarde is huge! The saviors passed by my place a week ago and they only had four Orbs then.
I think Plum and her friends are making good progress, actually! I think she's allowed to relieve stress by reading about guts and gore, actually.
🍙 chateau-riceballs
she's what
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🐝 finalgirl-standing reblogged from 🐮 The-Cointry-of-Voigarde
🍯 lovelyhoney-truths
Not only does that orb bullshit sound made up and stupid, but apparently Plum also runs a guts and gore blog??? what the fuck is wrong with her. Has she Changed to be so disgusting when she should be Changing herself to be able to save the country?? Do you guys really believe that shit? I haven't heard of a House where Orbs lock the gates, that's clearly her making up excuses for why she can't just go there and beat him. How can her friends stand to be with her when she's this irresponsible?
🎀 darts-chatting-blogg
One. The King warped the place (see image here!) and Dormont was known for experimenting with locks. People just be saying crab, I guess.
Two. Defenders. Get their asses. I'll start.
C
🎗 ribbpeat
R
🍑 yetanotherfinepeach
A
🛴 offowchmy-nkee
B
🐱 ChangeGirlClaws
P
🍙 chateau-riceballs
O
🦴 justanotherchange-blog
W
⚓️ insertcreativebloghere
P
🧦 socks-to-be
E
🐮 The-Cointry-of-Voigarde
N
🐝 finalgirl-standing
I
(this post is unrebloggable.)
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⚓️ insertcreativebloghere reblogged from 🦴 justanotherchange-blog
🦴 justanotherchange-blog
if I was on a journey to save the country and I forgot my focusing meds at home I would just forget everything. Honestly, Plum's doing much better than I am???
⚓️ insertcreativebloghere
If i had to save the country without my meds i would've thrown myself into the sea
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🐮 The-Cointry-of-Voigarde
(a picture of the countryside. Half of it is frozen, and the other half isn't)
Well. It was an honor, everyone. I'm glad to have contributed to the crab pow.
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🏰 cursinguponcastles reblogged 🐧 penguin-do-be-writing
🐧 penguin-do-be-writing
hi everyone, sorry for the silence! My family has been loudly debating what to do about the freezing country, I think i touched something weird and my feet have stopped working for me, so it's hard to get to my writing desk. whoops! it's been a struggle to get words written down. Don't worry, though! I've got a chapter for everyone! This time, things get INTENSE. That internal organs being not internal warning was for a reason!
🏰 cursinguponcastles
CHANGE, THIS WAS SO GOOD!! I'm really sorry you're close to being frozen, but I could see how it affected how you wrote Dembélé struggling to get away! It felt too real, haha!!
I'll miss your fics! I, well, hopefully, will see you in a few months!!
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