#I know this answer is late but when I received the ask I was still developing the oc. whose name is Brook btw. i guess i forgot to say that

[pinkflower2003]

Part 2 to the max fic inspired by the smallest man who’s ever lived?

“He Just Comes Running Over To Me”

Loss of my life part 2

a/n: this has been heavily requested, but honestly this is the best I could come up with...

Your heart pounded in your chest as you walked away from Max, his words echoing in your mind. You had to stay strong; you couldn’t let him see how much he still affected you. Your team quickly surrounded you, ushering you to your private dressing room. Once inside, you sank onto the couch, your emotions overwhelming you.

Daniel had followed you, his face filled with concern. “Y/N, are you okay?” he asked softly, sitting beside you.

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “No, Danny, I’m not. How could he say all those things now, after everything? It’s too late.”

Daniel put his arm around you, offering what comfort he could. “I know it’s hard, but you’re stronger than this. You’ve got so much ahead of you, and you deserve someone who’s all in from the start.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “I just need to focus on my career. That’s what I need to do.”

The days following the race were a blur of emotions and activities. You threw yourself into your work, writing new songs and planning your next tour. But Max’s words kept creeping into your mind, making it hard to concentrate.

One evening, you received a call from Kelly. Surprised, you answered, not knowing what to expect.

“Hi, Y/N. It’s Kelly. I hope it’s okay that I’m calling you, I got your number off Max’s phone” she began, her tone tentative.

“Hi, Kelly. It’s fine. What’s going on?” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I wanted to talk to you about Max,” she said, and you could hear the nervousness in her voice. “I know this is awkward, but I think you deserve to know the truth.”

Your heart sank. “What do you mean?”

“Max and I... we’re not really together. We’re friends, and he’s been helping me out. Her father left us, and Max offered to step in, but he’s not her stepdad. He’s just helping us out because he’s a good person, and it comes across that we’re dating in the media so it’s just a bit easier to explain” she said.

You were stunned. “So, you’re not in a relationship?”

“No, we’re not. Max has been struggling a lot since you left. He talks about you all the time. He regrets what happened, Y/N. He really does,” Kelly said softly.

You took a deep breath, trying to process this new information. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I can see how much he loves you. He made a mistake, but he’s willing to do anything to make it right. I thought you should know,” she said.

“Thank you, Kelly,” you replied, your voice shaking. “I appreciate you telling me.”

After hanging up, you sat in silence, your mind racing. Could you forgive Max? Could you give him another chance after everything that had happened?

A few days later, you found yourself standing outside Max’s apartment. You had thought long and hard about what Kelly had said, and you knew you needed to talk to him. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

Max opened it, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw you. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice filled with hope and uncertainty.

“I needed to talk to you,” you said, stepping inside. “Kelly told me everything. About you and Penelope, about how you’ve been feeling.”

Max nodded, closing the door behind you. “I’m glad she did. I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but I didn’t know how.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the regret and longing there. “Max, you really hurt me. I wanted a future with you, and you made it clear you didn’t want that.”

“I know, and I’m so sorry. I was scared. I didn’t realise what I had until I lost it,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “But I want to make it right. I want a future with you, Y/N. Kids, a family, everything. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him. “Max, it’s not going to be easy. You broke my heart.”

“I know, and I’m willing to work for it. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back,” he said, stepping closer to you. “I love you, Y/N. I always have, and I always will.”

You took a deep breath, your heart aching with the weight of your decision. “Okay, Max. Let’s take it one step at a time. But you need to understand, this is your last chance.”

Max nodded, relief and determination filling his eyes. “I understand. I won’t let you down, I promise.”

As he pulled you into his arms, you felt a glimmer of hope. It would take time and effort, but maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other.

The anticipation in the arena was electric. The crowd buzzed with excitement, eagerly awaiting your performance. Backstage, you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the night ahead. Tonight was special. You had invited the F1 crew to your concert, since they seemed to enjoy your performance so much at the last race. You knew Max and some of the other drivers would be in the audience, and you had a setlist full of songs that were deeply personal, songs that told your story with Max.

As the lights dimmed and the opening chords of your first song played, you stepped onto the stage, the crowd erupting into cheers. You spotted Max in the VIP suite, surrounded by his friends and teammates, their faces lit with excitement and curiosity.

You began with "The 1," a song about lost love and the one who got away.

"I'm doing good, I'm on some new shit

Been saying 'yes' instead of 'no'

I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn't though..."

Your voice carried the emotions of your journey, and you saw Max's expression shift as he recognised the story within the lyrics. The drivers around him were nodding along, clearly enjoying the music, but Max's eyes were glued to you.

Next, you performed "All Too Well," the iconic ten-minute version. The lyrics poured out of you with raw emotion, capturing the highs and lows of your relationship with Max.

"You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath

Sacred prayer and we'd swear to remember it all too well..."

You watched as Max's face reflected the memories of your time together. The pain, the joy, the love – it was all there, laid bare in the music.

During "Enchanted," a song about the magic of meeting someone special, you glanced at Max, and for a moment, it felt like no one else was in the room.

"This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home..."

Max's gaze softened, and you saw a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was as if the music was weaving a connection between you two once again.

During the break between songs, you took a moment to interact with the crowd. Spotting a group of kids near the front, you crouched down, reaching out to them. Their faces lit up with excitement as you spoke to them, making them feel special. You even gave them a few pieces of the costume jewelry you wore, them screaming as you did so. The arena filled with joy and laughter, and you saw Max watching with admiration.

The final song of the night was "The Alchemy," a new song you had written, encapsulating your journey with Max – the heartbreak, the growth, and the possibility of something new and beautiful rising from the ashes.

“Shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads

Beer sticking to the floor

Cheers chanted, cause they said

There was no chance, trying to be

The greatest in the league

Where's the trophy?

He just comes running over to me.”

As you sang, you poured your heart into every word, feeling the transformative power of your emotions. The audience was captivated, and you could feel the energy in the room shift.

The concert ended to thunderous applause, and you headed backstage to catch your breath. Moments later, you were escorted to the VIP suite where the drivers and their girlfriends were gathered. The room was filled with laughter and chatter, but as soon as you entered, all eyes turned to you.

Max was the first to move. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, his eyes locked on yours. Without a word, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you, right there in front of everyone. The room fell silent, then erupted in cheers and applause.

You pulled back, slightly breathless, and saw the love and determination in Max's eyes. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered. "You're incredible."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you smiled. "Thank you, Max. That means everything to me."

The drivers and their girlfriends crowded around, congratulating you and praising your performance. You felt a warm hand on your shoulder and turned to see Daniel grinning at you.

"You were amazing out there, Y/N," he said. "You really are something special."

#formula one imagine #f1 imagine #max verstappen #f1 smut #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #f1 x reader #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv1 #taylor swift

[ddeonuswhre]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ The beginning.

Summary: Jay was your partner and future fiancé, everything was perfect, until one day his mother came to inform you that he had died in a car accident. What you didn't know was that he had actually been bitten by a vampire.

Gender: drama, fluff, love. — C/W: Arguments, blood, very explicit situations/events, etc..

W/c: +200. — A/N: A month? so fast? wow.

In the end, you were alone with a broken heart. You felt an intense pain in your chest, almost as if the color red from the pain illuminated your entire room.

It was a lovely morning, and the sun was shining radiantly. I was seated on the steps of my apartment building, listening to music and patiently awaiting the arrival of your boyfriend.

Several minutes passed since the last message he had sent you, a video telling you that it would take no more than 2 minutes due to the light traffic. You didn't attach enough importance to it, because you trusted him to be there, so you just answered him with an "okaaaay :)♡".

The day grew late, and the sun began its descent. Your sweat seemed to have dried, and your buttocks were numb from the long wait. For your part, you didn't know how to feel. It was strange not to have received a single message during that entire time, and your messages asking him if he was okay or if at least the two of you wouldn't go anymore seemed not to reach him.

→ April 14, 2024, 6:34 pm

Jayjay, my love. l'm very worried 'bout you. Please call me as soon as you get this message and the other ones, okay? I'm very scared:((

After that last message, you were again confident that everything would be fine. Maybe he had just gotten a flat tire and gone to the workshop, and his phone was dead, or maybe something had happened to his mother....you had made up so many ideas to avoid falling into "more negative" thoughts.

—Shit I'm so hungry —you said as you set your phone on the side of the couch—. Would a sandwich be... fine?

After you had created the worst monstrosity—a ham sandwich with yellow cheese and many fries inside—you sat down on the couch again, turned on the television, and carefully placed your soda on the floor.

—Still not know anything about him? —asked a female voice.

Turning slightly to the side, you saw what it was about Minjeong and sighed in relief.

—Yup, I haven't known anything in three weeks now —you answered as you closed your locker.

The young lady couldn't help but discreetly roll her eyes as she let out a soft sigh and gently shook her head. She then proceeded to gently caress a part of your forearm as the two of you made your way together towards the exit, where they would find their car slightly damp from the rain at that particular moment.

Upon entering the vehicle, the subsequent action taken—following the placement of your backpack between your feet—was to fasten your seatbelt. Upon perceiving the completion of the same action by the individual with red hair, a smile was directed towards her.

—I'll put on my headphones, won't you mind? —you asked.

—No, not at all —she answered as she began to drive away—. Distract yourself by creating fake scenarios with your music.

After hearing her laugh, you rolled your eyes in the same manner, laughing and giving her the middle finger. The whole way there, you stared out the window with the volume turned up as loud as it would go. Part of you felt sad because you didn’t know anything; you hadn’t seen your boyfriend or his family.

When you least expected it, Minjeong had already parked his car in front of your building. You turned on your phone to pause the music and remove your headphones. You were about to get out of the car when you felt the girl turn you and hug part of your body with her arms.

You remained still, as you did not completely comprehend the reason behind the embrace. Nevertheless, you reciprocated with your free hand, concealing a portion of your face in her neck and shedding a few tears. Although the two of you had been the closest of friends since your elementary school days, Minjeong had never been particularly fond of displays of affection. She was akin to a sibling to you, which is perhaps why you felt a sense of relief, even if it was fleeting.

—Please, try not to worry so much. I'm sure he is fine. Perhaps he has gone on another trip and is unable to inform you at the moment —she suggested.

—I-I know... but he doesn't even text me.. he doesn't even get my messages —you replied, pulling away from her.

You let out a final sigh as you caught a glimpse of her face for the last time, noticing a hint of worry etched across his features. Until that moment, you believed your sorrow was so profound that it had begun to affect those around you. With a heavy heart, you stepped out of her car, waving your hand in a farewell gesture before turning around and heading towards your apartment.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⸻ㅤ

As you ascended the final steps to your apartment, you experienced a surge of contentment, likely stemming from the comforting embrace and encouraging words of your close friend. However, your happiness was fleeting as a voice gradually emerged from the bottom of the stairs.

As you stood motionless, you held the key in the door lock. Even in a parallel universe, you would instantly recognize that voice. It belonged to the woman you deeply admired and respected—your boyfriend's mother, Jongseong.

—Isee you at last, boy —she answered with a ladino smile.

With a swift motion, you turned to face her, offering a warm and friendly smile. Discreetly, you kept your keys hidden within your closed fist. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ —Oh, Mrs. Park! I'm glad to see you. How are you d-

Your words were abruptly interrupted when that woman pulled out of her bag what appeared to be a luxurious handbag. A gift? For you? From her? It wasn't even your birthday. You stood still, unsure of how to react, unsure of whether to accept the bag or wait for her to say something more.

You took a small step back as she extended her hand, holding the expensive bag. You looked at the handbag and then at her for a moment.

—I.. don't understand. Why...? —you replied, with a puzzled expression and a slight tilt of your head. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ She let out an annoyed laugh and shook her head slightly. You knew this gift wasn't directly from her; it was from Jay.

—Look, M/N. I didn't come here because I like seeing you. I came here... —she sighed heavily— Because I know Jay would have loved to give you this.

—Would he have liked it? Did I miss something in the month I couldn't see him? D-did he go on another trip? Do you know where he is? —you asked, approaching her with concern.

—He died, M/N! —she exclaimed, furiously throwing the bag on the floor and glaring at you with fulminating eyes—. He died a month ago —she responded by gently running her hand across his forehead—. We found out that night! Apparently, he crashed on his way to your apartment, and as we were informed, the only things they found were his phone and that bag.

What just happened? What did you just say? That isn't true. It can't be true.

As you collapsed to the ground, a profound sense of weakness enveloped you, making it challenging to comprehend the gravity of her words. The surroundings gradually faded into a muted haze, and her voice became increasingly difficult to distinguish.

Amidst tears cascading like an unrestrained waterfall, you could discern her figure standing there, her gaze fixed upon you. What ultimately shattered you was her utterance, "I'm sorry. Now that you're aware, I hope you'll stop looking for him." With those words, she pivoted and commenced her descent down the steps.

Standing on the floor, you shed tears, bracing yourself with one hand on the floor—to avoid falling completely—and with the other on your chest, tightly clutching part of your shirt and the necklace he had given you when you turned eighteen.

The hours had passed since the moment you realized you would never again have the opportunity to be in the presence of the person you held the deepest affection for. If it were not for the intervention of your neighbors, who found you lying on the floor, you would not have entered your apartment carrying an expensive bag in your hand.

Honestly, you still didn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe anything. You felt as if you were trapped in an endless nightmare, unable to wake up. But it all came rushing back to reality as soon as you dropped the bag on the couch and headed to your room.

You had expected to shed tears throughout the night, or at least until a headache manifested—either from the strain on your facial muscles or dehydration, or perhaps a combination of both. However, your plan was unexpectedly disrupted when you heard your phone emit a sound. Upon checking, you discovered that it was an alarm you had previously set titled "Dinner with Jonggie!!♡." You promptly endeavored to deactivate the alarm.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[Video]

You couldn't finish the video; you just couldn't. Your heart burned again with intensity. You felt an intense pain in your chest, almost as if the crimson hue of pain lit up your entire room. You left the phone on the bed as you clasped your hands and glued them to your body, sinking into pain and tears.

As your cries and groans of discomfort filled the room, you felt a gentle tap on your head, which with each passing moment, made you increasingly drowsy. It was almost as if something were gently pressing down on your head, compelling you to act unconsciously.

"M/n..." a faint voice was heard, as was the case with Mrs. Park—indistinct, nearly impossible to comprehend as you drifted off to sleep.

Ddeonus/N: Oh my God, I know it took me too long to post this shit, but I honestly couldn't follow the story so I had to watch me again twilight. 🫦

#enhypen jay #jay x male reader #park jongseong #kpop x male reader #kpop imagines #male reader #kpop scenarios #enhypen x male reader #kpop fanfic #enhypen scenarios #Spotify #enhypen x gn reader

[daechwitatamic]

Vice;Grip || chapter 2 || chs

(banner by @itaeewon)

Vice;Grip (masterpost) NSFW - minors DNI Genre: angst smut fluff, fuckbuddies!au Summary: Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose.  A/N: infinite thank you's to @sailoryooons and @eoieopda for beta-ing!! //

Warnings: Frequent depictions of depression, depressive episodes, panic attacks, and substance abuse (alcohol, weed, and pills referenced). PLEASE know that these characters’ relationships with drugs and alcohol are not healthy and should not be emulated. If these topics are triggering to you, please consider sitting this one out.

Section Specific Warnings: depiction of a depressive episode, recreational drinking and bar scenes, allusion to oral (f. receiving), kissing, rough sex/man-handling, explicit penetrative sex, dirty talk, aftercare, didn't venture fully into writing dom!vernon but i have been informed i wrote something that might be in the realm of a dom drop, language obviously, reader is called a gendered slur by a stranger, law-breaking :), actual fluff for a second, allusions to drug use, car sex

wc: 6900

Playlist: you can call me in the middle of the night / you can leave before i wake up in the morning / and it could feel so wrong / but i'll still hold on

1 yr, 5 months ago

The onset of spring brought a lack of color. Grey clouds hung full and heavy, low over the city skyline. Grey crept into the corners of your apartment, darkening rooms during daytime so that you needed to keep lamps on even in midafternoon. Grey crept over your body, into your limbs. Days stretched and nights inched; you only got out of bed because you had to feed the damn cat.

That's part of why you'd gotten the cat in the first place, after a particularly long episode a few years ago, when Chan had presented you with a list of things he thought you should do to combat the blues, as he'd put it.

He meant well. But he always came at your depression like a problem solver, like just doing the right things could make it go away.

And sure, his suggestions were things that would help - get outside, call someone, don't isolate, shower even if you aren't leaving the house, drink some damn water - they weren't a cure. They were better reminders for when you were okay - good at keeping you okay for longer stretches. But when it was already too late, when the grey came, they all sounded fucking pointless. 

Anyway. The cat had been a good idea. 

is it bad?? 

Chan did his best. He was a good best friend. He just didn't understand it.

The answer to his question, you thought, as you flipped your phone over so you wouldn't see the notification if he followed up, was yes. Yes, this time was particularly bad. But you didn't have the energy to type those three words. 

Terrible friend, your brain accused, and it was right. 

You managed to drag yourself to work, to at least show up so you could continue to pay for your apartment and your damn cat, but not much else. You existed on cans of diet coke and microwave meals. You doom-scrolled until sunrise, then slept an hour or two at most before getting dressed for work. You left texts unanswered, the mail piled up. So did the dishes. 

Chan came by, once, did your dishes for you. It made you feel worse - useless and pitiable. You'd rather he just go away, but you held it in; you knew that would only hurt his feelings.

You learned from your mistakes, one thing that could be said in your favor. 

“Have you called your doctor?” he wanted to know.

What was the point? There wasn't a stop hating your life pill. 

“What if you tried painting?” he asked.

“What if you just let me be?” you countered, finally tripping over the line from embarrassed apathy to defensiveness. 

That pout again. “It might help,” he said. “Don't most famous artists do their best shit when they're down?”

“Get out,” you deadpanned. He dropped it, knowing this was a bigger issue, a bigger argument, than this current episode, a complex situation that went beyond the boundaries of your brain chemistry.

He put the last of your now-clean plates away. “Let's go somewhere,” he suggested.

“Chan,” you groaned. “I’m tired. I can't go gallivanting -”

“You're not tired, you're depressed,” he argued. “And going outside will help you.”

“I might have to kill you,” you said seriously, and he rolled his eyes. 

In the end, he let you win. He'd been around long enough to know that eventually you'd venture outside again, hit the bars with him again, text first again, laugh at his stupid memes again. It was just a waiting game. 

Still, when he left, you sat on the edge of your couch with your chin in your hands. On the living room rug, the cat rolled and showed you its belly. 

“Not you, too,” you groused. 

The cat did a few alligator rolls and then scampered into your bedroom and under the bed, as if chased. 

You sighed. You made your way to the spare room, which had been shut - to keep the cat out. To keep your ghosts in. 

Your easel was still set up in the corner. You were kind of surprised it wasn't covered in cobwebs. You'd been sketching just on paper last time you'd worked, trying to make decisions that way so you wouldn't waste a canvas, and it still sat there. 

You inched closer, ran your hands over your brushes. Took a step back, eyed the paper and your sketches. 

It was bad. Thank god you hadn't put it to canvas. 

You pulled the paper down, crumpled it in your hands. You chased the cat out with a gentle nudge of your foot, and closed the door again, keeping both cats and ghosts on their respective sides of the door.

There was no rhyme or reason to your brain, no map or calendar to follow for the starts or stops. But eventually, the clouds broke. The grey gave way to baby buds of green, yellows pushed through soil, determined to meet the sun.

You texted Chan - drinks??

He responded - about time!!!

You texted Vernon - hello, its me

When he didn't answer, you tried again - sorry for the radio silence. 

Still nothing. 

You checked his socials, saw that he'd been doing his thing - a smattering of selfies, some group shots with the guys he played music with sometimes, a few nature shots: the moon, once, and what looked like the river at night. 

The silence stretched. You gave up, considered it over. Grieved a little, because it had been good. 

You went out on a night that teased summer even though it was months away, sank into the familiar blur of too many shots - not enough to be a problem, but maybe enough to make problems. 

Under the club's ever-moving lights, you took a selfie, your drink and cleavage both showcased in the shot. 

Send it to Vernon, the urge to make trouble suggested, and you listened without hesitation.

And - finally - an answer.

come here after?? 

You smiled a tiny, victorious smile and knocked back the rest of your drink. 

omw.

Later, he gave you a rare and devastating pout as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smoothed fingers down the still-shaking inside of your thigh.

“What'd you make me wait so long for?” he complained, those sharp eyes sparkling with mirth. When you shrugged, still a little mindless from your high, he gave the same spot on your thigh a playful slap. “Don't do it again.”

1 yr, 4 months ago

busy tonight?

not busy but.

???

not in the best mood.

bet i could fix that.

yeah. idk.

why don't you let me try? 

“What's wrong?” you cooed, teasing, when Vernon let you into the apartment. 

He didn't smile, didn't play along, and it sobered you quickly. 

“Don't want to talk about it,” he muttered, crowding into your space. “Wasn't that big of a deal anyway.”

Just want the fix you promised, he thought. 

You moaned like liquid gold when his first kiss was a bite. Encouraged, Vernon gripped you by the shoulders, pushing you back against the wall hard enough that he heard your breath escape in a single huff. He hesitated, eyes searching your face; a question.

You lifted your chin, eyes shining with something hard. When he kissed you again, you threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled, hard enough to make him hiss; an answer.

His pace was frenzied from the start, your legs around his waist and the wall holding you up. His hand curled around your throat, not squeezing, but sliding up to grip at your jaw instead, keeping you from tilting your head back, closing your eyes, losing yourself in how he felt slamming his hips flush against yours with dizzying smacks.

When you whined that you were close, he pulled you away from the wall and lowered you both to the ground, the wooden floor of his entryway cold and hard beneath your spine. It didn’t matter, didn’t do anything to stop the vortex tightening below your stomach. You slapped a hand over your face as it distorted in pleasure, Vernon kneeling between the legs you still had gripping his waist, one of his hands braced on the floor next to your head, holding his body over you.

“That’s right,” he breathed, gritted teeth flashing over you, forehead wrinkling as his own release closed in on the chase. “Just fucking take it when I fuck you into the floor.”

Then he was pulling out, breaths hissing through his teeth as he straightened up, one hand pumping himself furiously until strings of white decorated your stomach, cooling immediately in the apartment’s chilly air.

His breathing was ragged as he sagged back onto his heels, and you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, watching him warily.

Then he stood and slipped into the hallway bathroom, the light clicking on and illuminating the unlit entryway where you’d just fucked. You heard the sink run, then shut back off, and Vernon returned. He knelt gingerly - you could see his knees were red from kneeling on the wooden floor - and cleaned your stomach first, then gently between your legs.

You sat the rest of the way up then, watching him carefully as he sat back on his heels again, avoiding your gaze. Something about the moment felt like a thing alive, unfurling between you like a casablanca lily under the refracted light of the moon.

You spoke at the same time.

“Vernon?”

“You okay?”

You swallowed, rubbed absently at your elbow where you’d smacked it on the floor during the position change.

“I’m fine,” you said tentatively. “Are you?”

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, and then peering through his fingers at you for a second before dropping them again. “Thought I hurt you.”

You shook your head. “I’m okay. I would have said something.”

He nodded, relief starting to bring feeling back to his hands again. He stood and reached a hand down for you. When you took it, he closed his fingers around yours and pulled you to your feet.

“I know we don’t usually do this,” you said, rubbing at the parts of you that had been on the floor - the backs of your legs, your ass, “but could I take a super fast shower before I go?”

“Yeah,” he said, so quickly that the word almost trips on itself. “Of course.”

He led you into the bathroom, rummaged in the disorganized linen closet for a clean towel, pressed it into your hands.

“If you need one, too,” you said easily, as he reached around you to turn the water on so it could heat up, “I don’t mind if you join me.”

He paused. “You sure?”

You shrugged, then leaned over to put your hand under the spray, testing to see if it was still cold. “It’s your shower.”

Under the stream of warm water, you turned to face him, front to front, looking up at him with clear eyes. Something in your expression was so open, Vernon couldn’t help but feel both the desire to step into the space you seemed to be offering him as well as the desire to get far, far away from it.

He’d been so angry before you’d texted, furious enough that he’d bruised his knuckles punching the doorframe; now, as the chemicals in his body settled down, he felt those knuckles throbbing. He was disgusted that he’d lost his temper, guilty that he’d taken any of that anger out on you, who had nothing to do with it.

He was scared of the desire he felt to be closer to you, just for tonight. Scared that fucking you hadn’t been enough to soothe whatever it was that roiled inside him, like it usually was. Scared that he felt like he needed more than sex to heal this particular burn.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and part of him thought he was apologizing in advance, like he knew already he’d run scared at some point. “For being so...”

He didn’t know what word fit best. 

“I told you,” you said, pressing a little closer, “I would have said if I had a problem.”

“Okay,” he said, frowning a little. “If you’re sure.”

Then he reached over and brushed a thumb along your cheekbone, chasing away a rivulet of shower-water. You closed your eyes for a second, and he swore he could feel you lean into the touch, just slightly.

He didn’t know how to explain how he felt. Kind of like he’d done a hot-coal-walk; the exhaustion that came with an adrenaline crash, the vulnerability that came after facing down something big, that need - the burn inside him needing cool water before it could quiet down.

With the shower off, the silence in the bathroom was loud.

“Do you…” Vernon started, then stopped. His heart hammered, the adrenaline returning. He covered the moment by toweling his hair roughly and pulling his hands through the strands so they’d lay right. “Do you want to stay for a little bit? I was gonna order delivery, maybe watch something before I finish my assignment.”

He’d expected you to think about it, to turn it over in your mind the way you turn his things over in your careful hands, the way you turn him ass over head with just a smirk. Instead, you nodded right away.

“Yeah,” you said, like it was no big deal. Like you did this all the time. Maybe you did, just not with him. “I was starving, actually. I could stay for an hour or two.”

On his couch, the leftovers of the food scattered on his coffee table, you reached for his hand, ran a thumb imperceptibly along his purpled knuckles. You didn’t ask what happened, just brought them to your lips and pressed the lightest kiss before putting them down again and reaching for your noodles, as if it hadn’t happened at all.

That was when Vernon saw the potential of it, an entire picture, framed and labeled: you could hurt him so badly if he let you, if he let it get that far. For whatever it was that burned inside him, you were the cool water… but you could absolutely be gasoline, instead.

1 yr, 3 months ago

If you closed your eyes, you could pretend the light that passed over your closed lids in a repetitive pattern was the sweep of a lighthouse beam. You could pretend that the rumbling bass of the music was the roar of the ocean. You could pretend that you weren’t here, in a shitty bar, but at the seaside. You could pretend that you weren’t alone. You could pretend that you weren’t you.

You drained your drink and caught the bartender’s eye, gesturing for another, sliding the sweating glass away from you once you knew a new one was coming.

“What are you drinking?”

The voice came from your right, and you lifted tired, disinterested eyes to find the source of it.

“G and T,” you answered, because it was one fewer syllable than saying gin and tonic and maybe that one syllable would do the dirty work for you and tell this guy that you didn’t want to talk to him.

“Nice,” he said, like you’d said something interesting, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. You didn’t return the question, just slid your phone screen on and opened your messages.

wyd

drinks at my hyungs place. wbu

damn. guess i have to settle for one of these very mid prospects at the willow

damn thats a sad story. if only you had a better option

if only my better option werent busy at his hyung’s

no one said i had to stay here. ur at the willow?

yep

The guy to your right tried again. “The DJ tonight kind of sucks, huh?”

You looked back at your phone.

don’t leave

You smiled into your drink, a thrill dancing through your bloodstream. The lights and music didn’t seem as garish as they had ten minutes ago.

“My boyfriend’s on his way to pick me up,” you said flatly to the guy who kept trying to talk to you, “so you might want to find someone else to complain about the DJ to.”

The word tasted like lemonade on your tongue - acidic and sour, sweet and refreshing, taste buds blooming and shriveling in tandem. Even the knowledge that it was a flat-out lie didn’t stop your heart from beating faster.

You expected the guy to get up and leave, maybe throw you a dirty look on his way. Instead, he seemed to call your bluff, narrowing his eyes like he was trying to read you.

“I don’t think I’d let my girlfriend go out alone looking like this,” he said evenly, and you let out a derisive laugh.

“The fact that you just said the words let my girlfriend probably has a lot to do with why you’re here alone,” you countered, a flash of victory slicing up your spine when you saw his face flush.

Before he could retort, you hopped down from your barstool, pushing your way into the crowded dance floor. You didn’t even want to dance, you just wanted to get away. If Vernon wanted to find you, he could come find you. He’d told you not to leave, he hadn’t said make it easy for me.

He found you anyway; he made it look easy. He stepped around a group of guys talking in a circle and into your space, like he was following a path, like he knew there’d be room for him.

You were happy to see him. You were happy he came. You were happy to breathe him in, to feel the warmth of his body and smell his cologne and hear your name tumble from his mouth like a statement. You were too drunk to tuck these truths away into pockets and folds where they would be harder to find.

You stepped to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. If he was surprised, his body hid it well. His hands came to rest on your lower back, pressing you closer to him as you leaned up to find his mouth.

You kissed him slowly, at odds with the frantic bassline vibrating under your feet. You let him tip your head back, changing the angle, sweeping your mouth with his tongue until you both tasted lemonade.

“Happy to see me?” he asked, a hint of a smirk on his face, one eyebrow arched in question and one half of his mouth twitching into a smile.

You didn’t have it in you to lie, so instead you said, “Your place?”

He led you outside.

As luck would have it, the idiot from the bar stood beside the front door, a cigarette between two fingers. His expression darkened when he recognized you, then further when he saw your fingers linked with Vernon’s as you stepped into the quiet night.

“Your girlfriend’s a fucking bitch,” the guy bit out, dropping the cigarette butt and stepping on it.

Vernon’s eyebrows shot up.

Evenly, he said, “She’s not -”

She’s not my girlfriend. You felt your stomach swoop, and you felt yourself flinch.

“- a bitch. She’s just smarter than you.”

Vernon tugged on your hand, leading you across the street to his parked, waiting car.

You tried to bite back a smile, and he looked sideways at you, his own lips twitching.

“What?” he demanded.

“What?” you parroted.

He scowled at you, but his lips were just smiling. “What?” he asked again.

You laughed. “Let’s go,” you said. “The bitch wants to kiss you more.”

You expected his smile to sharpen. Instead, something in it seems to soften, changing from teasing to actual affection.

“Alright,” he said, turning to start the engine. “Can’t really say no to that, can I?”

“You could,” you mused, as he pulled away from the curb and the bar slid into nothingness behind you, “but I just don’t think you should.”

1 yr, 2 months ago

wyd

melting

srsly

no, seriously. i am laying on my living room floor like a starfish trying not to turn into liquid

come to hyungs

its too hot to move

i have an idea, come meet me at hyungs

You frowned at your phone. Of course your aircon died during the only heatwave you could remember in your entire adult life. Your whole body felt sticky; you were pretty sure you were stuck to your floor.

It was too hot to move.

what’s the idea??

you’ll see. i’ll order u a car. can you bring a couple towels?

“Vernon, no,” you laughed, your voice echoing.

He shushed you through laughter, both of you leaning on each other as you stood at the edge of the yard, the grass tickling the bottoms of your bare feet. Upstairs, at his friend’s place, you’d thrown back a few shots for courage before following Vernon out here, and you were feeling them, your head swimming like your body might soon be.

“It’s a circuit, see?” he tried to explain, pointing through the night, as if you could see through all the fences and over all the hedges. “Five yards, five pools, and then we end up right back here and we get in the car and go. Just follow me, don’t stop for anything.”

“Someone’s gonna call the cops,” you complained. “And these neighborhoods all have cameras.”

“That’s why we keep moving,” he said, his grin so excited and so un-Vernon that you almost couldn’t bear to say no to him. “No one’s gonna call the cops if we’re already gone - it’s not worth it. You ready?”

You hesitated. “You’re good to drive us out of here?” you checked.

He held up his hands as if to show innocence. “Only had a beer,” he promised. “But I’ve got something fun in the car for after, if you want.”

You felt your grin turn wolfish. “Okay. I’m right behind you.”

“Try and be quiet,” he warned, then took off running across the yard, cannonballing into the pool with a splash.

You tore off after him, leaping into the water and suppressing a shriek when the cold water hit you. You felt instantly sober, jittery with adrenaline, alive with laughter. You spluttered your way to the surface and pushed water away from your eyes, trying to find him through the shadows.

He was already climbing out the other side, water running down his back, the muscle shifting in the half-light as he hoisted himself back onto the pool’s deck. You hurried across the pool, climbing up beside him, giggling wildly.

“Shhh,” he warned, but he was giggling too as he led you carefully over the fence to the next yard.

As soon as you crept close enough to the pool to jump, a motion-activated light came on, flooding the yard white and causing you to cover your eyes.

“Quick!” Vernon told you, grabbing your arm and pulling you in with him as he jumped.

You let out a stream of bubbles and water rushed into your mouth. You felt your feet hit the bottom and you pushed off hard, surfacing quickly.

Again, you followed him across the pool, both of you laughing and whispering, “Hurry! Quick!” as you climbed out and headed around the house to the front yard.

“Okay, this is the hard part,” he told you, both of you shivering as the night air caught up to you. “We have to cross the street, hop the fence, and then the pool is around back.”

“I’m ready,” you promised, with a particularly hard shiver.

You sprinted across the street, both leaving wet footprints on the pavement. His hand felt warm in yours when he helped you over the fence, warm on your body when he held your waist as you climbed down.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you muttered, but giggles still spilled out of you.

“More fun than melting, right?” he asked, and you thought that you’d seen him smile more tonight than in whole months of coming together at night.

You thought you might move mountains to see him smile like this again, gums showing, open and honest, happy.

Then you were underwater again, swimming hard to keep up, following Vernon through the night as he pushed his way through some hedges and held them apart for you.

You made it to the last house before someone caught you, slamming the back door open and shouting, “Hey!”

“Go, go, go!” Vernon cried, laughing with such abandon that it sounded like goose honks, pulling on your hand as you both stumbled, dripping, towards the car.

You’d set towels on the seats before starting, so you tumbled into the car and he peeled away, both of you laughing wildly as you left the neighborhood behind.

It was miles before you calmed down, gasping in breaths and trying to hold them before exploding into laughter again.

“I’d better not end up on the news,” you scolded. “I’m in my underwear.

He gave you a searing sideways look. “I noticed.”

You felt yourself warm again, despite being in soaking wet clothes.

“Where next?” you asked. “Home?”

He let out a breath that was almost a sigh. “I don’t really want to go home,” he admitted. Then, “I was having fun with you.”

You considered this. “Not to be a cliche, but… I know a place.”

The quarry was quiet, surrounded by only trees; without posted lights, everything seemed to be just varying shades of black - the black of the water just darker than the black of the stone ledges just darker than the walls of trees just darker than the sky sprinkled with stars above you.

“We have to be careful,” you warned him seriously. “If you slip and get hurt, it could be bad.”

He turned the flashlight on his phone on and set it next to the metal rungs that jutted out of the stone, a makeshift ladder for the swimmers who came here during the day, when swimming was allowed.

“It’s going to be way colder than the pools,” you added.

“You’re not selling this very well,” he pointed out.

“Don’t be a chicken,” you teased.

He eyed the water. “I’m having second thoughts.”

You nudged him in the ribs, which caused him to squirm away, hands batting at yours, a noise emitting from him that made you laugh out loud.

“Are you ticklish?” you demanded. “How did I not know?”

“Come on, are we jumping or what?” he asked, laughing, still trying to keep your sneaky hands away from his ribs.

“Yeah, that’s probably the only way to actually get in,” you admitted, still laughing a little. Your abs felt a little sore from how much you’d laughed tonight.

You stood on the edge of the stone, toes curling over the ledge, Vernon’s hand tight in yours. You stood on the edge, the ink-like water beneath you rippling slightly, marring the reflection of the constellations high above you. You stood on the edge of something, knowing full well you were afraid to swim.

He counted you down, and together, you jumped.

The water was freezing - it hurt, it stung, and you shrieked and laughed as you surfaced. A foot from you, Vernon was shouting.

“The towels!” you told him, already swimming towards the little dot of light that marked the ladder.

Shaking and shivering, you reached your towel, wrapping it around yourself. Behind you, Vernon jogged up, making noises like a disgruntled horse as he found his own towel.

“Oh my god,” he groused, grabbing for you. “I’m freezing, come here.”

He opened his arms, the towel behind him like a wingspan, and you stepped into the space, letting him wrap his arms and his towel around you. You stood shivering together, trying to let your body heat chase the cold away.

You wrapped your own arms around his middle, pressing yourself closer as your legs shook, shivers rolling up your spine in waves as your body fought the chill. 

“C’mere,” he murmured above you, holding you a little more tightly, his own teeth chattering. 

It was the first time, you realized as you turned your head to rest your cheek on his chest, that you’d held each other. It was the first time you’d been between his arms when you weren’t fucking, the first time he’d tightened his grip around you for a reason other than gratification. 

You didn’t want it - didn’t want to know that it felt nice in his embrace, didn’t want to know that it fit right and felt safe. You didn’t want to know that you liked it, didn’t want to have to fight against the humiliation of wanting more.

As soon as the full-body tremors died away in the warm, sticky night, you stepped away, eager to put distance between you again. 

Later, he looked over at you from the driver’s seat of the car, red-eyed, his smile stretching slow and thick like putty. When you straddled his lap, his hands searching out the bare skin of your back, you rocked against him and pressed open-mouthed kisses to the column of his pretty throat until you were pulling groans from him with each pass of your hips. 

Forget, you thought, as you pulled your underwear to the side for him. Forget every single thing but this.

When you slipped an arm behind his neck and pressed your foreheads together as you lifted and dropped, you weren’t sure whose memory you were hoping to erase with this most recent pleasure-chase: yours, or his.

1 yr, 1 month ago

There was no map or calendar to this thing your brain did. It was summer, the sun shone, and yet the days bled together again, sunsets swirling down the shower drain.

The last time you’d gone radio silent, the last time your world had gone grey without warning, Vernon had answered in kind. His own silence had shouted for him until you’d tempted him back.

This time, he didn’t resort to silence in retaliation to yours. Instead, he kept trying, relentless. If you’d had more presence of mind, you might have wondered why.

wyd

[ ]

yo. whats the deal

[ ]

i will have you know that this is very insulting

[ ]

don’t get mad but im coming over

“What the fuck, Vernon.”

“I said don’t get mad.”

“It doesn’t work like that. What are you doing here?”

He leveled you with a look. “You gonna let me in?”

“Literally, no.”

You hadn’t showered in days; your apartment was probably grosser than you were. The cat milled around your ankles, trying to weasel its way outside, and you hopped from foot to foot trying to nudge it back inside.

“Why not?” he asked.

You huffed, annoyed. But the annoyance was the first thing you’d felt all day, and something inside you clung to it, desperate for more of anything but the crawling nothing that’s kept you company for days.

“Because,” you grumbled. Because there’s nothing for you here. Because I have nothing I can give you. “I’m… just not in the mood.”

He stepped back from the door so you could see more of him. “I’m not asking you to be.”

“Then why are you here?” The words fell between you, heavy. If you hadn’t been so low, if you hadn’t gone all day without eating, if you hadn’t been on your thirtieth hour without sleeping, you would have known better. You would have realized that you were asking, if you aren’t here for sex, then what are you here for? 

You wouldn’t have asked a question that you didn’t want the answer to.

He met your eyes. He seemed to teeter on the edge of telling you the truth, giving you the real answer. Then, he muttered, “Got bored.”

You knew it wasn’t the whole truth, and he knew you knew it, and yet neither of you were willing to look at it directly.

“I fail to see how that’s my problem,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

He watched you for what felt like a long time, face serious, eyes glittering and attentive. Then, instead of answering, he repeated, “Are you gonna let me in?”

You frowned at him, but there was a little more pout to it than anger. “I’m all gross,” you said, instead of answering.

Something in him softened - it was visible on his face, in his shoulders, like he knew this was your way of saying yes. “So let’s shower,” he suggested quietly.

You felt trepidation, like part of you expected him to stay soft, to try to take care of you. To your relief, Vernon acted like everything was normal, scrunching his face at you when the water was too cold as he stepped in, washing his own body in silence and letting you do your thing.

He didn’t try to hold you, didn’t ask you when you’d eaten last, didn’t try to talk about it - didn’t try to fix it. He was just… there, and this - along with your first shower in days - was somehow revitalizing in itself.

You pulled on clean sweats, which was better than the day-four sweats he’d found you in. “The apartment’s kind of… sorry,” you mumbled, looking around the living room, feeling a bit of that familiar shame crawl up your neck as you noticed the evidence that you hadn’t been picking up, or running a vacuum.

Vernon flopped backwards on your sofa, unphased, one arm bent behind his head. “We’ve been doing this for almost a year,” he pointed out. “I know how it usually is.”

It isn’t usually like this. And neither are you.

You wondered when it happened - your ability to finish his half-thoughts, your ability to know what he meant when he only said a fraction of it.

You stood awkwardly beside the couch where he was lounging, and he looked up at you with a tiny, amused smile.

“What do you wanna do?”

What you really wanted to do was cocoon yourself in blankets again and put on repeats of a show you’d already seen. But now you had to look functional. You might be mad at him for showing up like this, now that you thought about it.

“I dunno,” you said, which was close to the truth.

“You wanna eat?”

“Honestly?” you asked, pursing your lips a little. “No.”

“Okay,” he said easily, and it struck you again how different this was than how Chan treated you when you were low. Chan would have already had the food delivered, and would be chasing you around the table with loaded chopsticks, demanding you take a bite.

“Can we just… watch something?” you asked, unsure.

Vernon wordlessly reached for your remote and held it up to you, nonplussed.

You wondered if it was an act, how easy this was, how unbothered he was, how he seemed to just understand what wouldn’t help.

You knew it wasn’t; you’d been around long enough to know that Vernon’s demons weren’t all that different from yours.

You settled somewhere between his body and the back of the couch, one leg bent over his legs, one of your arms over his stomach and his arm curled around your shoulders.

“This is weird,” you muttered into his chest, and his laugh rumbled under you.

“Why?” he asked, his smile big, like he thought you were particularly funny. “Not used to being big spoon?”

Not used to cuddling - with you.

“Yeah,” you said, because that was easier.

On your TV, a show ran through several episodes, the changing scenes splashing you and Vernon with changing colors, casting his face blue and then white and then black and then red and then blue again. Sometimes he’d watch, sometimes he’d scroll on his phone. You mostly felt his heart beating under your hand and let your mind whir.

At some point he started mindlessly (or not mindlessly, who could know) stroking your back, gentle touches brushing up and down, slow, slow, the way he always was. At some point you shivered, goosebumps rising along your arms, and snuggled closer to him. At some point he shifted you from slightly beside him to on top of him, a second hand slipping under your loose tshirt and joining the first in tracing stripes up and down your upper back.

You shifted against him, something coming to life with a shudder like the furnace in your parent’s basement on cold autumn nights. Heat worked its way slowly from your core to your stomach, down your legs.

He kept his eyes on the tv, innocent, but you could hear his heartbeat. It couldn’t lie and pretend.

You shifted again, squirming until you’d worked his t-shirt up just enough that you could touch skin, too. You trailed your own fingers over the inch of exposed stomach you’d found, and delighted in the way you could feel him start to harden beneath you.

Then, you delighted in your delight. It was the first good thing you’d been able to feel in almost a week.

You said his name, and he finally looked down at you, eyes nearly black in the unlit room.

“What is it?” he asked, and his voice was suddenly so low it sent shivers tumbling down each vertebrae and tripping over to your limbs. “Want me to make you feel good?”

No, you wanted to say as you answered his question by pulling the hem of his t-shirt higher, encouraging him to lift up so you could pull it off. No, just want you to make me feel.

1 year ago

Everywhere Vernon looked, all he saw was circles. Circle of red in his bowl when he inhaled. Circle of condensation on the table when he lifted his beer. Circle of light reflecting from his phone case, laying in the setting sunlight, to the ceiling. Above him, the ceiling fan circled lazily, nowhere to be.

And you - you and him. That was a circle, too. A cycle, at least, which was close enough in his opinion. Text, hook up, skitter back to your respective places, wait out the next weekend. It was as rhythmic and routine as waves breaking and then getting pulled back out only to come shatter on sand again. It was out of his control, up to forces far greater than he was.

Vernon’s friends had texted to hang out and he’d declined. He told them he was seeing his parents, but really, he just wanted to be alone. He wanted to watch the ceiling fan circle, he wanted to let his brain go staticky quiet, he wanted to burrow deep into things that made him feel less.

But he still, somehow, wanted to see you. He wanted to be alone, and being with you didn’t feel like not getting that.

It was a little scary, he thought, that you were the exception. That he could be with you without feeling the uncomfortable pressure of being with others, of having to be on, of having to fake cheerfulness and keep up with chatter that only exhausted him.

Vernon wasn’t a kid. He knew what it meant.

whats up

honestly not a lot. want me to come over?

Yeah, he did. He did, even if you weren’t going to hook up. He did, even if you were just going to lay on opposite sides of the couch and scroll on your phones. He did, and he hoped he’d end up with his arms around you, and he hoped he’d make you laugh at least once, and he hoped you’d stay and just be there with him after.

When you came over, he asked you how you felt about it - about him, about you and him. He asked by laying you on your back in his bed, by brushing fingertips along your face. He asked you by sliding your leggings away gently, pressing his mouth to each inch of your inseam as it became exposed to his dimly lit room. He asked you by kissing you through the lace you wore for him, then kissing the same spot once that lace was on his floor.

He asked you when he crawled up your body until his tip teased at your entrance and you whined, shifting to try to take him. And - when he took it slow this time, teeth scraping at your neck and then tongue hurrying to soothe the sting, his arms bracketing your body like he was sheltering you from an incoming storm.

(Maybe, he considered, he was.)

(Maybe, he considered, he was worthless in the face of this storm’s wrath.)

(Maybe, he considered, he was the fucking storm in the first place.)

And you heard his question loud and clear. You pulled on your leggings as soon as you were cleaned up, popping your hood up over your head as you searched for your phone. You kept your eyes on your screen as you waited for a car to come, murmured, “Later,” on your way out the door.

Vernon’s apartment rang with quiet. He was alone, he’d gotten what he’d wanted.

He’d also, it seemed, gotten his answer.

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thank you so much for reading!!! i'm always happy to hear what you think!

#kvanity #svthub #svt fanfic #svt fic #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #vernon fanfic #vernon fic #vernon x reader #vernon x you #vernon x y/n #vernon chwe x reader #hansol x reader #hansol x you #chwe hansol x reader #vernon smut #hansol smut #vernon chwe smut #chwe hansol smut #vernon angst #vernon fluff #hansol fluff #chwe hansol fluff #fuckbuddies au #fic: vice;grip

[astral-mariner]

Exclusive Homeworld Lost Preview

A preview from a later section of my fic (Part 1 of 12 posted here)! This chapter from Part 9 gives a lot of the flavor of some of the relationships in Homeworld Lost without too many spoilers. It contains a rather surprising Cui/Raditz sex scene with many narrative and character moments.

A little context: This is the first chapter of Part 9. At the end of Part 8, Vegeta and Raditz had an extremely bitter fight. Vegeta vowed that Raditz would eventually die by his hand. Part 9 catches up with the characters a couple years of space travel after this fight has taken place. We get an impression of how their relationship has been in the meantime. Raditz is in his late 20s here, and Vegeta is right around 20 (Earth years). Cui, envious of Freeza's "favoritism" of the saiyans, has spent years tormenting Raditz with the aim of humiliating Vegeta.

Rating: Explicit (sexual content and dark themes) Relationships: Cui/Raditz & Vegeta/Raditz Content Warnings and Tags: angst, references to alcoholism/addiction, abusive relationships, jealousy, sadism/masochism, humiliation, degradation, slut shaming, anal fingering, ass-to-mouth

***********************************

Part 9: Between the Stars Chapter 1: Marks

“I don’t remember giving you this one.”

I reached for my discarded bodysuit as Cui’s fingers traced the outline of a dark bruise at the center of my chest.

“Hm, was it Vegeta who did that to you?” he asked. He applied a bit of pressure. “Looks like it still hurts…”

I slipped my shirt on so the mark couldn’t draw his attention anymore. “Just training,” I answered.

“Does he know where you are right now?” He brushed a stray lock of hair away from my face and smoothed it against the tousled mess his play had left. “Does he know about us?”

Turning away, I stood up from the hired bed. “He doesn’t care if I live or die. But he’d kill you if he knew.”

Cui chuckled to himself. “That doesn’t sound like he doesn’t care.”

“You should leave the station. I know you’ve got another planet to clean up before Sytrus. We’ll be here a little longer.” I retrieved my boots and scouter from the corner of the small room. “He really will kill you if he finds out you’re here.”

He pointed at the scouter. “Read my power level.”

I did. Roughly equal to Vegeta’s, but Cui didn’t need to know this. The prince had made considerable progress since Arcos in spite of everything. Though I hadn’t been able to catch Zarbon unaccompanied, he’d delivered Vegeta back to our quarters himself after I’d woken up alone in the medical wing. He would’ve seen evidence on his scouter if something had gone awry with Vegeta’s energy, and he may have investigated without my prompting. I could only pray that this had happened, and I couldn’t dare ask the prince to contradict it. Whatever the case, when Vegeta joined us, answering our looks with well-versed silence, he was as strong as he’d ever been.

“See?” Cui scoffed. “Last I saw the little saiyan prince in the flesh, his power level was under one thousand. Even if he’s recovered from his…accident by now, there’s no way he’s anywhere close to me.”

“Still.” Now I reached for my armor.

Cui caught hold of my arm before I could pull it over my head. “No,” he said. “The boots and scouter—leave them. You want to stay for a while.”

In truth, I did not. Cui’s crew received cleansing assignments from Zarbon and Dodoria, and there was a small chance I might hear something of their travels or whereabouts. Cui himself could believe whatever he wished about why I’d sought his company. “Not too long, though,” I told him, setting the armor back down against the wall. “You know I’ll be punished.”

“Mm, but you like to be punished, don’t you?” Scaled arms encircled my waist, the gesture almost familiar and saiyan. Cui had learned much despite the infrequency of our trysts. With my suit now protecting my bare chest from his, I could almost forget that cold clamminess against my skin. “Were all of your kind like that, or is it just you?” he asked.

“Couldn’t tell you.”

“But you don’t deny it.” He nudged me back towards the bed till I sat.

Instead of towering over him, now I looked up into his face.

“And neither does your body. How that…thing”—he grimaced—“between your legs swells after pain has left you weak, and I’ve stretched you too far…”

I shivered, and my stomach turned. “Don’t see what you get out of it.”

“I suppose there isn’t a physical component for me like there is for you.” He grasped my chin and tilted my head back so my mouth could receive his. “But surely you saiyans understand the pleasure of finding your enemy’s weakness?” Now that slimy tongue forced my lips apart, slithered between my teeth to taste me from the inside.

“Thought we had an arrangement,” I got out.

“I stopped paying you years ago.” Small, serrated fangs scraped my lower lip. “You and I aren’t enemies anymore, no. You come because you’re lonely.” He let go of my chin only to tangle his hands in my hair, cradling and caressing me as he kissed me again. “Must be dreadful to be a creature that needs someone else… So lonely that you’ll do anything, tell me anything.”

I pulled my legs up onto the bed and backed away, putting some distance between us. “Vegeta would’ve never been your enemy if you hadn’t…”

“No.” He crawled into the bed after me. “I did what I did because he was my enemy already. Lording over all of us, stealing Lord Freeza’s attention… He never did anything to deserve his rank. Just another one of you disgusting monkeys.” Cui’s hand strayed down my chest and abdomen, then between my thighs. He licked his lips when he found me half-hard. “How wretched. No matter how strong you can be on the battlefield, you lower lifeforms languish without such base things as this. Don’t know what Freeza sees in you.”

“W-what makes you think Freeza’s attention is something to be desired?”

“As stupid as you are vulgar.” His fingers crept beneath my waistband so he could tease and toy with me. Bending and rolling me between his thumb and forefinger while I was still soft enough for it. “I’m sure you’ve never actually listened to your superiors. If you did, you’d know that the Planet Trade will make this galaxy a different place. Maybe it doesn’t matter to you, since you’re the last of your kind, and your lifespans are so short. But Lord Freeza will rid the universe of vermin like you. He’ll sell planets to those more worthy. In the end, only people like him and myself will remain, and then I will be prince of an empire greater than any monkey could imagine.”

My hand joined his, and though he could overpower me easily, I moved to still it. “It’s less that I haven’t listened and more that you’re just hearing what you want to hear, Cui.” Our fingers intertwined. “If he tortured you, you wouldn’t want to be Freeza’s favorite anymore—fuck—!”

Retaliating, he’d pinched that most sensitive spot under the head of my cock so sharply that I was certain he’d drawn blood, torn the delicate skin. “Lord Freeza does you a kindness”—soothing with light touches that did little more than draw more attention to the echoing pain—“with how you creatures crave to be destroyed. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“If you really want to be Freeza’s favorite,” I answered when I could, “then I hope he notices you. Truly—anything you want. Vegeta and I never meant to deny you anything.”

A nibble at my neck, the sting acute enough to detract from that between my legs, but gentle enough to send a shiver down my spine that was almost pleasant. “You’re always so thoughtful after you get what you want.”

When Cui’s fist circled me to stroke properly, I knew I’d found my chance. “We…I can see you again… If you tell me where Zarbon’s sending you. You aren’t meeting with him, are you? Know it’s dangerous—but I’ll do it. For you.”

“Mm.” He pulled me free from my leggings. “I’ll consider it.”

Obliging him, I removed the shirt I’d used to hide my scars and bruises from his view. Tracing them while his eyes followed, my fingers whispered across my chest till my fur bristled and my nipples stood erect. I met his gaze as I took up rubbing them, tugging and pressing them for him to watch while my cock hardened in his hand.

“I might tell you if you’re good,” Cui purred. “Now tell me something. Does Vegeta do this for you too after he hurts you?”

I arched my neck for him as he leaned in to suck at a conspicuous row of four purple marks. “No,” I answered. “I’m not what he wants.”

“Such a pity…” He stroked a little faster, tightened his grip just enough. How closely he’d observed that first time, forcing me to pleasure myself lest I subject myself to something more painful and humiliating.

“He never touches me like this.”

“Because he imagines himself better than you?” He paused to spread the wetness weeping from my tip over the head of my cock, thumbing firmly and leaving my toes and tail curling at the overstimulation. “But I know the truth. He’s just as filthy of an animal as you are.” Stroking me again while he spoke softly next to my ear. “A simple, battered creature that’s known nothing but suffering as long as it’s drawn breath. Even before your planet was destroyed.”

He kissed me, long and, if I didn’t know better, tenderly. “That night long ago now… When nothing I did brought a single tear to your eye…even after you were screaming and bleeding and begging me to stop. After I grew tired of it, and I held you to my chest, only then did you break down and tell me all about what that wicked lady did to you.”

“Cui…don’t.”

“But you’re not struggling, Raditz.” Another kiss. “You love to suffer now. A beast whose lowly appetites were never fed anything but misery, and you’ve learned to survive on it. Tell me I’m wrong.”

But he gave me no chance to reply. Instead, his free hand seized my jaw, and he shoved two fingers through my lips and to the back of my throat till I gagged and spat up onto my chin.

“Don’t bite—you said you’d be good.” He pressed down hard on my tongue, massaging, making my stomach turn and my mouth water involuntarily. “Yes, I am meeting with Zarbon, actually, so you’ll have to be very careful indeed.”

Once he withdrew, he let go of my cock to tug on my waistband. Then he ordered, “Pull these down and spread your legs.”

I did.

“Such a well-trained monkey.” The pads of those two slicked fingers pressed and swirled around my puckered hole like the flat of an unnaturally cool tongue. “Look at you—so loose and ready for me no matter what you say. Even after everything I’ve done to you. Raped you, beaten you, shamed and disgraced you for all of the Planet Trade to witness. Still you beg to see me. Risk your life.”

My breath hitched as he nudged his fingers inside me. Deftly, he curled them upwards and pushed against my sweet spot rhythmically while his other hand returned to work my cock. “Where, though, Cui? Please…”

He ignored me. “So lonely… Ever since you came back from Fuenghi. Sad looks, long sighs. Your prince is a man now, isn’t he? And you’ve loved him longer than that. Because he hurts you like no one ever has. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Don’t—don’t want to think about him. Just you.” I rolled my hips into his caresses, curled my tail around his wrist.

“Very good.” He rewarded me by rightly fucking me with his fingers, hitting that spot behind my balls again and again till my muscles quivered and clenched, and whimpers escaped unbidden from my mouth.

Unaffected by my unraveling, he continued evenly, “There’s another famous pleasure house along the route to Sytrus. You know how Zarbon likes to collect his slaves. Visit me there. There will be enough depravity going on that no one will notice a little more.”

I bit my lip to contain a moan and nodded. I’d gotten what I needed; Cui could think that he’d won, and it wouldn’t matter. I let my eyes roll back, and instead of Cui, I slipped and imagined Vegeta fucking me, those narrow, strong hands around my neck instead of my own broad ones.

“So filthy—won’t even reach your release without strangling yourself like he does,” Cui muttered. “Broken little slut of a monkey. You like hearing what you are, don’t you? A desperate, whimpering whore who loves to be abused.”

My hands flew to clutch the bed beneath me, and I gasped sharply as Cui fucked me hard through the first spasms of coming. Blood rushing back to my face and air to my lungs, I floated above my body, weightless and high. I couldn’t hear or cringe at the pathetic sounds he wrung from me till it was too late, and it was already over, and I was shivering and groaning while he continued to fuck me mercilessly despite freeing my cock from his grasp.

He chuckled darkly to himself after he withdrew. “I’m not even one of you, but I know I do it better than Vegeta ever would. All he knows how to do is kill them. He doesn’t listen to you like I do. And he doesn’t touch you like I do either. So you say.” He leaned over me and pressed his hand to my lips, fingers wet and scented with my own come. “Clean me up,” he demanded.

Mindlessly, I licked him clean, swallowed myself down. I already felt my heart sinking. I shouldn’t have come so hard by his hand, hearing such venomous lies.

“Now the other.”

A different scent. I cringed away automatically.

“Oh? You don’t like this?”

Perhaps he didn’t understand. To him, each part of my body he had condescended to touch was no different than the other. Primitive organs of elimination.

His amphibious face didn’t often contort into expressions I recognized outright, but the one he wore now I couldn’t mistake for anything but malicious glee. “I haven’t given you my actual schedule, you know. If you aren’t good, I’ll have no reason to give it to you. So lonesome without me…”

I gritted my teeth and bit back every fuck you that rose to my lips. Maybe he knew, and he just didn’t care. Either way, I had no choice. The prince’s life could depend on it, my warning Zarbon. Holding my breath, I opened my mouth and sucked on his fingers till he was satisfied.

“See? Even the mighty saiyan can be tamed.” He took me in his arms then, and he ran those wretched fingers through my hair. “Here, Raditz, I’ll hold you as long as you need. Anything you want, you can tell me. I’ll show you the coordinates, and you can comfort yourself that you’ll see me again soon.”

In spite of everything, the tingling caresses along my scalp did help to distract me, and I let them. As long as I saw Zarbon, I wouldn’t have to see Cui again.

A scouter’s alert. The brief flash of green light told me it was mine.

“You were very good. I’ll get it for you,” Cui said. He stood and retrieved it, then offered it to me without bothering to look into whatever had appeared in the glass.

I didn’t look closely either. It didn’t matter. It was the perfect excuse. “I have to go,” I told Cui.

“Will you miss me?”

“I’ll come to see you,” I lied as I fixed my clothes, got up, and shuffled into my boots and armor. My heart pounded in my throat, and that familiar emptiness widened within me. It always happened after I spent such time with Cui; even he had noticed, always probing my weaknesses, and he would stay to soothe me if only to catch whatever more of myself I spilled.

“I’ve grown fond of you, I admit.” he said before I could escape into the corridor. “I will miss you.”

“Fucking gods,” I cursed once the door had shut, and I was alone. I hurried for a decontamination chamber. Vegeta would have no mercy for me if was already back at our rented rooms, and I hadn’t yet washed, and he found out what I’d done.

I paid the meager sum, stepped inside, and tried not to inhale the harsh chemicals before they were sucked out into space. I only checked my scouter’s alert once I’d already left and made it halfway across the station.

It was from Nappa. Cui is aboard the station. The prince is looking for you, it read simply.

“Fucking gods,” I cursed again. I prayed that I’d reach the rooms before he did, and I hastened to ensure it.

And by the grace of those same gods I frequently cursed, only Nappa was there when I arrived. “I saw your message,” I told him between breaths. “I don’t know about Cui. I didn’t see him. I just went for a drink and took my scouter off.”

“You really shouldn’t drink as much as you do,” he admonished after staring me down. I had never given him many reasons to trust me.

“I know. It’s just…”

“Difficult,” he finished for me.

“Yes, it’s just so fucking hard.” I removed the scouter from my face, folded it, and tossed it into an open compartment. “Why is everything so fucking hard?”

Nappa shook his head. Only then did I notice the half-empty container of dark liquid in front of him. “I have more dreams when I drink,” he said.

I sat down beside him, nudged the container away. “You’d better hide that. Vegeta won’t like it.”

Another solemn nod.

“I’m going to get myself out of this armor. Wash up. Take care of yourself, Nappa.” I squeezed his shoulder before I turned and left him. He’d never spoken much, but he spoke even less after we left Arcos and those seasons of torture behind.

I couldn’t say how long I spent scrubbing Cui’s ichthyian mucus out of my skin, how many times I rinsed out my mouth. But the crash of shattered glass against a wall snapped me out of it. I stepped out of the washroom and stumbled to find new clothes while Vegeta’s low threats loomed closer.

“Where is Raditz?”  he snarled.

A pause.

“He’s here?”

Another silent pause.

I pressed my bare back against the cold wall, hoping it could bear my weight if my knees could not.

“Get out. And don’t dare bring anything back with you but your scouter and the suit you’re wearing.”

Nappa must not have moved after I’d left, and the crash I’d heard had an easy explanation.

A moment later, the click of a door broke the rhythm of pacing boots. More pacing, then it stopped after growing louder, nearer the sleeping quarters I’d shut myself in.

Hesitating.

I kept my eyes shut, my back pressed to the wall.

A click, then more steps. So close now that I could feel his presence, hear the nearly imperceptible hiss of breath through parted teeth. Then the whispered warmth of its ghost whisked against my chest. He stood just in front of me, and I had nowhere to run.

I looked at him.

Our gazes, however, did not meet. Vegeta’s ran over my body. Scars and marks he recognized, new ones and old. Though some of them he did not recognize, and these he lingered on.

“Vegeta, I—”

He smothered whatever I had to say into a kiss. Hard, each gloved hand clutching my face between them, as he, in all his strength, pinned me against the wall. Bruising, desperate. When he broke away only to pant open-mouthed over my lips, we tasted our scents mingled rich between us.

“Listen—” he began, but he couldn’t stand to continue, and he sank into another kiss instead. A muffled groan hummed behind his lips as he dragged his hands from my face down my naked chest. If only he didn’t insist on wearing those damned gloves.

“Listen,” he began again, and this time, he didn’t try to keep himself from kissing me. Rather, he leaned into my neck, and between words, he gave in and brushed his lips and tongue against my pulse. “You—you belong to me. Hear me? You…are mine.”

“I’m yours,” I answered without a second thought. My knees went weak as if he’d captured my tail and wrung it in his ruthless grip.

“Mine.” Though even as he uttered this, he pulled himself back from me. Whatever anger I’d dreaded before, yet missed, he wore now.

“I—”

“Dress yourself, take your scouter, and get out.”

“Please…”

“You heard me. Leave, and don’t come back until you’ve been called.”

“But I have to—”

“Leave. Now.”

I could do nothing but rush to find my boots, then the clean shirt I’d laid out. I didn’t have time to take the armor.

“And don’t you fucking dare forget what I told you.”

“I-I won’t,” I promised before I obeyed and left him.

#vegeta #raditz #cui #vegeditz #dbz fics #astral writing #astral art #homeworld lost

[zivazivc]

Did Les ever dated in the past? Also is he with anyone recently?

Les quit school really early, like 10-years-old early, and he started working soon after, so he didn't really have friends his age. That kinda puts a buffer on a teenager's social and love life. Though there was something that happened at a house party once, that was, uh... a bad experience, and it left him with a lot of issues. Also, partially because of this, he's not really someone who acts on his crushes. So he never dated before.

But at one point the band spent a few months in the same location (dunno the reason yet, but maybe they weren't getting enough gigs and they had to take up some part time jobs for a while), and Les developed a crush on a bartender at a nearby club.

She's the only OC of mine who's visually a bigger weirdo than Les, and he definitely saw a little bit of himself in her, and hoping for someone with some shared life experience, it's what initially attracted him toward her and vice versa.

So they had a thing going on for a short time. It never developed into anything serious because sadly they are very alike, which means they are BOTH morons who are shy about making the first move. And after a while they came to the agreement that they were better as just friends.

Floyd with his persistent crush was not happy about the possible romance at first, but he ended up being happy for Les, and he finally decided to give his hopeless longing a rest, since the only good it was doing was growing a rift between his and Les's friendship.

Funny enough it was Floyd backing down which allowed the two to grow closer. Les lowered his guard since he no longer had to overthink if Floyd would interpret anything he did or said as some kind of flirting or act of love, and he no longer had to brace himself for any uncomfortable romancing coming from Floyd either.

They were already good friends since the start but they became much more casual with each other and began to understand each other on a deeper level as years passed. As Floyd got older and more mature, and became an equal with the rest of the bandmates, it was actually Les who fell for him, hard. He didn't really do anything about it though, but Floyd eventually realized this and you know he did something about it. Though Floyd's crush had gone from looking at Les as this cool experienced older guy when he was younger to now seeing him as a shy innocent teddy bear compared to his lewd self ksjhdkjs.

So technically they became each other's first proper all-encompassing relationship. And by that I mean that besides the lovey-dovey obvious stuff, they were also best friends and helped each other grow a lot. Also Floyd by the time they got together, already started a habit of hooking up with strangers at parties, so being with Les forced him to slow down and progress through a relationship slowly and at a healthy pace for someone his age (since you can't really get anywhere with Les without a lot of patience). And Floyd got Les to become comfortable with opening up and talking about his deep-rooted feelings. They talked about issues they faced, many of which were related to Les's childhood trauma, instead of him just ignoring or suppressing it all. (Floyd also opened up about his own family trauma with Les obviously, but he talked about it even before they got together.)

The relationship, especially at the start, could still be considered questionable from an outsider's perspective, but so was the band's lifestyle in general. They were good for each other during that period while they were growing up and figuring themselves and each other out, which is what matters I think.

It was honestly mainly Floyd's undiagnosed bipolar disorder that made the relationship suffer toward the end of Floyd's days in the band. It created a lot of trust issues between Floyd and Les, and also Floyd and everyone else, heck it even made Floyd distrust himself, since he and none else knew or understood what was happening with him. This led to a lot of misery and anger that he mostly ended up directing at Les, and it was what eventually made them break up and Floyd leave.

#god damn it floyd's bpd at it again. what do i do with it. maybe i really should send him to therapy... 🤔 #I know this answer is late but when I received the ask I was still developing the oc. whose name is Brook btw. i guess i forgot to say that #she is a sweetiepie and yes you will see more of her if you want #trolls #dreamworks trolls #ex bandmates #trolls floyd #trolls oc #les #brook #my art #answered #floyd in the first pic is feeling threatened lmao. bby you have no chance with him at this point go start your hoe career first #long post

[rosicheeks]

10, 27, 50🥰

10. Do you believe in love at first sight?

Nah. Like you said there’s infatuation at first sight.

27. Has someone ever written a song or poem for you?

Yes 😭 I’ve had a few poems sent to me on here either through anon, DMs or posting one and saying I’m the inspiration behind it.

50. If your first true love knocked on your door with apology and presents, would you accept?

That’s pretty complicated lol

#*maybe* if I let my hopeless romantic self take over I think (hope) there could be a spark at first sight? #where you see someone and you feel drawn to them and you have this weird feeling they’re supposed to be in your life?? #who knows maybe it’s just in the fairytales but damn I want a fairytale love one day #but I definitely don’t think there’s a thing like love at first sight #love is much more than just seeing someone… I just feel like that’s a shallow way of looking at it? and I don’t mean to disrespect anyone- #who does believe in love at first sight #I just feel like it takes time to fully love someone #I feel like to love someone means to truly know the person - to take the time to learn them as a person and to learn the good and the bad #and to fall in love with the whole person #I truly still can not believe people have taken the time to write me a poem #I genuinely get a little teary eyed whenever I think about it #I have a notebook (I lost it during the move but I’m sure it’s in one of the boxes) that I keep and write down any poem or sweet message #that I receive and then when I have a bad day I can look back at them #if I don’t find it soon I’m gonna start a new one cause I miss having that pick me up #LOL #that last question #I truly truly don’t even know how to answer that #short and simple answer sure I’d accept the apology but we wouldn’t get back together #a little side note I have a tiny feeling that it wasn’t true love but who knows #anywayyyyyyy thank you so much for the questions! #ngl I fell asleep shortly after I reblogged this and then the rest of the day I forgot about it 🤦🏽‍♀️ #but better late than never right? 😂 #ask

[myfictionaldreams]

I have such a specific idea for poly marauders so please bare with me .

James and Sirius were out to a fancy party and they come home early to see reader and remus having sex in the kitchen , remus has her spread on the table while he fucks her and she arches her back and sees sirius through blurry vision and calls his name, remus doesn’t notice them so he thinks shes calling her other boyfriends name “ wrong boyfriend sweetheart “ so he fucks her harder until she calls his name “ there you go love”.

You could continue this however you would like Maybe james and Sirius join them. I also love the idea that after everything when they’re showering she reassure remus and says something like “ it’s hard to think of anything else when I’m around you , you’re all consuming “ and the boys agree THATS SO CUTE.

I’m so sorry that this is long and graphic.

Say My Name // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

A/N: Whoever you are, anon, I thank you for giving me this request because, holy shit, it has turned me (and Remus) absolutely feral, and I have no regrets.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, werewolf troupes, feral remus lupin, dom/sub undertones, possessive sex, size difference/kink (!), praise kink, dirty talk, self-confidence issues, gentle touching/kissing, rough oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, overstimulation, table sex, manhandling, multiple orgasms, crying, body worship, anxiety attack (nearly), restraints, blindfold, begging, aftercare :)))

Words: 5.7k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

“You both look so damn handsome!” you admire dreamily with a thick lace of sarcasm as you tighten the burgundy scarf around Sirius’ neck. The mischievous glint in those twinkling grey eyes brightened as he rolled them in jest, matching the doting smirk on his full lips. “Maybe you should forgo the leather jackets more often for the waistcoats”, you say with a lustful undertone to your words as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Hmm, you think so?” he asks, dipping his height ever so slightly so that he could press his lips to yours in a surprisingly gentle kiss that still managed to pull desire in your abdomen as you leaned in for more but whined as he stood back to full height and straightened the waistcoat you loved so very much.

From behind you at the entrance to the bathroom, James was attempting to knot his bowtie when he wondered, “Are you sure you both don’t want to come with us? We each can have a plus one, which means there’s room for two. We don’t mind being fashionably late”. Glancing over your shoulder, you took in his slick attire that also caused warmth to bloom beneath your cheeks. A simple black jacket shaped perfectly for his slim waist, a crisp white shirt beneath and a matching shade of burgundy to Sirus was the colour for his tie.

The matching colours were an idea of Remus’, who was lounging across the mammoth bed, his long legs stretched out beneath him with one ankle crossed over the other. He watched James intently, the corner of his eye twitching at the messy-haired Marauder's attempts to tie his bowtie.

Remus stood and approached him, batting away James’ fingers as he began to do the job for him. You watched them fondly before answering the unanswered question. “No, it’s ok, James. Remus and I have a lovely night filled with a romantic home-cooked meal and a fancy bottle of wine. Who knows where the night may take us? Might end in some lovely… hand holding”, you say with a simple shrug to your shoulders, returning to straightening the already pristine waistcoat of Sirius.

“Oh yeah? Some strong hand-holding, Moony, is that what you’ve got planned? You might need to up your game”, Sirius jokes under his breath as he watches your fingers closely with a dipped head.

Remus snorted, smiling to himself, knowing that your night would be filled with anything but hand-holding, especially as the hours ticked closer to the following day. It was approaching the full moon, not tomorrow but the next day, but that didn’t matter as the changes were already beginning to affect Remus, and it all started with his desire for possession.

The wolf in Remus took a keen liking to you, even from all those years ago when you met the Marauders on the train to Hogwarts. It was an obsession, a need that devoured him completely to be with you. It had been described to you like a mating. Remus’ wolf thought you were his mate; therefore, as the gap between Remus’ and the wolf’s mind thinned with the full moon, the desire would take hold of Remus. There was still the deep, adoring love that he held for James and Sirius, and thankfully, this stopped him from ever deeming them a threat against your love, but others? Well, that’s where the danger lay, and therefore, it was easier for everyone if you and Remus stayed in for the night rather than have a territorial wizard with werewolf anger in a room full of people.

“Remember to please be safe out there tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and for the love of Merlin, James, please don’t drink and fly again. I’m not having another incident like last time”.

“Yes, Mum”, James grumbles sarcastically as Sirius chuckles under his breath.

“I’ll make sure that Prongs is on his best behaviour”, Sirius reasons with you as his hands come to rest around your waist, pulling you ever so gently closer.

“Good”, you say promptly, whilst curling a piece of his long hair around your fingers before reaching up to kiss his lips with a fierce press. “You look so handsome tonight,” you try to praise him as your mouths are still kissing together.

“Don’t I always?” he responds cheekily, earning a half-hearted eye-roll as he eases away, swapping places with James so that he can say goodbye to Remus and James with you.

Your fingers automatically try to tangle through James’ hair, attempting to flatten out the messy strands, but after a couple of minutes of attempts, James tugs you by your wrists. “I don’t know why you even bother; you know my hair will just stay messy. Anyway, doesn’t it add to my roguish good looks?” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as he gives you a broad grin whilst kissing each of your palms.

Your fingers cup his freshly shaved cheeks, caressing the smooth skin as you say, “I hope you have fun tonight”, whilst leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him with as much vigour as you could hear from the groans across the room with Sirius and Remus.

James sighed into the kiss, one hand matching yours by resting along your cheek and the other on your lower back as his lips pecked across your face until hovering next to your ear. “If you need us to come back, just send a note as we taught you; two flicks of your fingers and it should disappear, and we’ll come back straight away”.

Nodding your head in understanding, James kissed your cheek quickly before standing up to his full height and looking over at the other two men. “Sirius, take your tongue from Moony’s mouth; we must go!”

You tried to stifle your laughter as the two men pulled away from each other with rosy cheeks and wet lips.

Sirius and James disappeared with a flurry of green fire through the flu network installed in your shared home's kitchen. Remus turned to you with a heartwarming smile as he asked, “Shall we put some music on and start with dinner, love?”

You left it in Remus’ capable hands to find suitable music on his record player, and it ended up being a medley of David Bowie, which you were always happy to listen to. The two of you worked in unison to cook a beautiful roast dinner, moving around one another without getting in the way but making sure to remain at arm's length. Lingering touches to arms or backs, sipping slowly on the bottle of wine as Remus sang along to Bowie under his breath. You’d told him he could sing louder as you wanted to hear him, but he simply smiled and kissed your cheek, like he was embarrassed at being caught, but it was a rare day where Remus Lupin was embarrassed about anything.

The dinner was beautifully cooked, and there was enough for many more people than just you and Remus. Soon enough, you were stuffed full, thankful for deciding to wear a loose dress today with your expanded stomach. Remus was still eating as you sat and slowly digested your food, talking idly about fond memories from Hogwarts and how your work had been this week. Just anything domestically happy that the two of you could as you shifted closer in your seat so that his large scarred palm could rest on your thigh and your fingers interlock over the back of his hands.

“It’s a rare time when it gets to be just the two of us”, Remus muses, his hand squeezing your fingers and thighs as he pushes away his empty plate, his eyes solely focused on you.

“It’s been nice. As much as I love having all four of us together, sometimes it’s hard to keep up and give each of you all my attention, so when it's just one-on-one, it feels so intimate, wouldn’t you agree?”

His eyes softened as he nodded, “I definitely agree. You look so beautiful tonight, by the way. Have I told you that?”

Warmth filled your cheeks as you looked away to the glass of wine in your other hand. Even after all these years, one small compliment from Remus felt like the world, and it wasn’t the first time he had said that tonight; he’d said it every other sentence, but that didn’t hinder the giddy feeling from spreading in your chest.

“You, Mr Lupin, are a smooth talker”, you say, drinking a sip of your wine, ignoring his growing smile. Placing the glass onto the table, you shifted closer to Remus, resting a hand on his chest as you realised how much time had passed over the night. “So pudding, what would you like? I think we have some ice cream in the freezer, or if you’re lucky, James would have left us a couple of slices of his mum’s cake from yesterday”.

Remus didn’t answer immediately as you realised he was just silently watching you with the beautiful twinkle back in his eye, a curve to his lips that you itched to caress with your thumb. But then, he shifted forward in his seat so you were only mere inches from your faces touching, and the soft flop of his mousey brown hair fell into his eyes. “You’re so pretty, Remus”, you admire and then hold back a giggle as his cheeks flare with colour at your compliment.

“Pretty and scarred”, he muttered in response, cupping your wrist and bringing your fingers to his lips so he could kiss them carefully.

Your automatic response was to shout at him. It wasn’t that he had said anything remotely negative, but you knew the self-conscious thoughts that laced his words that he rarely spoke but still thought. You wanted to remind him of the hundreds of times he had ever scolded you for making negative comments about yourself or any self-doubt. Still, if you did, you knew it would ruin the positive mood for the night, so you wanted to continue with words of affirmation.

Closing the gap between each other, you kissed the tip of his nose whilst cupping both cheeks, paying specific attention to the thick pink scar that ran down from his temple, over his brow and his cheek. “I love you, scars and all”.

Remus’ tension seemed to ease from his shoulders as he breathed lightly out of his nose, his face lowering to rest on your shoulder as you held him for a moment before he began to stand and offered a hand, “What about a dance m’lady, then I’ll find you something sweet to suck on for desert”.

Ignoring the innuendo, you grinned up at him, placing your hand into his much larger palm. James and Sirius had lessons growing up from their families on how to dance for special balls they were forced to attend. You and Remus, on the other hand, were utterly clueless, but this only added to the joy and laughter as you both clumsily tried not to step on the other's toes or twirl without knocking into furniture.

You’d laughed so hard that a stitch formed in your side, causing the vivid dance to settle into a light sway. Your head rested on Remus's shoulder as his cheek pressed against the top of your head, arms around your shoulder as he lightly sang the next Bowie song.

Everything was perfect, especially as his rough fingertips danced up the nape of your neck, carefully tipping your head back so that you were now staring up into his kind eyes, his lips no longer moving along to the lyrics as he licked them carefully, moistening them before dipping his head. The kiss was as gentle as his hands now cupping your face, and you wondered for a moment if you were lightheaded from holding your breath in anticipation or from the effects of having your boyfriend kissing you.

Remus was soft, lovely and perfect as he eased away to put a gap between your mouths, but only so that he could adjust his position by keeping one hand on your jaw and the other around your waist before taking your breath away once more. Instantly, your body rose to the tips of your toes to be closer to him and firm the kiss.

The breath you’d both been holding released, noses pressing into each other's cheeks as the warm air tickled your ears. His tongue teased the seam of your lips, and as you relaxed into the kiss, many things seemed to happen at once.

The grandfather clock in the living room chimed midnight, and the soft Remus you’d been carefully kissing and exploring with your lips was now firmly gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you whilst simultaneously stepping towards the table as you squealed in shock, desperately gripping his shoulders for support.

Plates and glasses smashed onto the floor as Remus shoved aside the lovely table setting so that there was a firm blank canvas for you to be led on.

“Woah, Remus, just give me a minute.” You try to reason with him to at least get your bearings. Having been standing up two seconds ago, you were now led on your back with your boyfriend having become frantic with his actions. His shoulders shook with restraint, and his eyes didn’t lift from the edge of your skirt as he reached for the material. Not only this, but the brightness in his eyes had one, replaced with sinful hunger.

“Need you-” he muttered with a gruffness that hadn’t been there moments ago.

This was why you’d decided to stay in. Sometimes, Remus would curl around your body with the need to simply just breathe you in and declare that you were his; he’d become somewhat feral.

The fire in your body scorched to life as the need seeped into your core. As lovely as it had been, seeing him like this just did something to you. You wanted him just as desperately.

Frantically, you tried to help him lift up your skirt, but he was in control, pushing the material and tearing it in places with his firm grip until your legs and underwear-covered pussy were revealed. For a moment, it looked like he was going to dribble as you tried to reach for him to tell him to take a breath and compose himself, but all you were able to do audibly was scream out, head tipping back as Remus devoured you.

The Marauder hadn’t even waited for your underwear to be removed before his mouth was on you, hands not-so-gently wrapping around your thighs to push your legs apart, the slippers you’d been wearing now flying off in different directions across the kitchen. It was like he’d not eaten a single thing all night with the way his lips and jaw moved against your most sensitive of areas.

The sensation was odd with the barrier of cotton in between your cunt and his mouth. All you had was the pressure, wetness beginning to soak through from his tongue and the overwhelming heat from his mouth. Remus moved hungrily, licking and caressing with his mouth as you lay with your arms gripping onto the edge of the table above your head.

“Rem-Remus! Merlin, please don’t stop!” you begged desperately, allowing your body to succumb to his touch. You couldn’t even open your eyes without feeling dizzy with the sensations of his body all over your lower half as he pressed his tongue firmly against your throbbing clit, circling it with intention.

The hands on your thighs pushed harder, giving his face more room as a deep groan burned from his chest as he needed more. Still, as you whimpered from him to not stop, he stayed in place, stimulating your clit over and over again until your body was tensing with the pulses of desire from your cunt as your orgasm erupted.

His motions continued through the waves of pleasure, and even after, he carried on with his devouring, even as you verged on the edge of becoming overstimulated from the rough material of your panties rubbing against your delicate area. Remus needed more, and he was ready to take it.

The pressure on the back of your thighs suddenly disappears as he drapes your legs over his shoulders, giving you a better angle now to reach down and run your shaky fingers through his soft hair.

With your eyes firmly closed, you hadn’t noticed that your underwear had been torn clean from your body, only noticing when there was no barrier between what you both wanted. Your back arched from the stimulation of him sucking on your bundle of nerves, making an obscenely wet noise as your juices and his saliva caused a heavenly mess. 

Your legs had begun squeezing his face as you weren’t able to control your body, but he didn’t stop; he just simply continued to eat your pretty cunt. “Please….please Remus”, you continued to beg but unsure of what as you were thoroughly warm head to toe with the effects from your last orgasm, but his playful mouth knew just the right ways to keep you at the elevated bliss.

The thickness of his tongue pressed against your throbbing hole, delving as deep as he could go before curling it and exploring the warm softness of your cunt as the tip of his nose stimulated your clit.

It was intense, primarily as his large hands now rested on your abdomen, pushing down and forcing your hips to remain against the table so that he could remain in complete control of the stimulation to your body.

Clenching relentlessly around his tongue, your body couldn’t tell if it was calming down from an orgasm or having another. The overwhelming sensation caused tears to well in your eyes as the apples of your cheeks burned with heat. Everything was too much; even the clothes covering your torso felt claustrophobic as your nipples ached to be free.

“Ah!” you babbled, unable to even say his name as more intense waves of pleasure rocked from your cunt as it pulsed around his tongue. The tears escaped down your cheeks as you tried to gasp for air, your body finally slumping in exhaustion against the table as Remus began to stand from where he’d been on his knees for you.

Each of your legs was carefully eased from his shoulders to dangle off the edge of the wooden surface, not that you could keep them up anyway, as your entire body felt as if it was made of jelly.

“Did so good for me, Love. Taste so fucking good, wanna try?” he asked from where he now looked down at you, hovering only inches away from your face as his fingers wiped away the evidence of the tears. You nod quickly, opening your eyes for a split second to see Remus’ dark eyes and swollen, wet lips before they were pressing against yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth and allowing you the vulgar opportunity to taste your own juices from his mouth.

“My pretty girl tastes so good”, he admired, staring down at you, memorising every flicker of emotions on your face. You mewled at the compliment, nuzzling your face pathetically into his palm as he cradled your face. “What do you want? I want to hear you say it”.

His tone indicated that he was teasing, which was a rare attribute for Remus as he usually just liked to do whatever he had in mind, but when he was like this, wishing to get the very most from you as his werewolf subconscious began to flicker through his thoughts.

“You, I want you. Please!” you stress whilst trying to look up at him, fingers trembling at your side with the need to touch him somehow.

The corners of Remus’ lips tilted up as he smiled down at you, “Have I ever told you how much I love to hear you beg?”

Before you could respond, you were gasping as coolness licked over your chest as he’d swiped his wand down the centre of your clothing until it was falling off of your shoulders, and your body could be free from the confines. His eyes lowered, focused on your pebbled nipples as they begged for him to be touched, but he didn’t rush to them.

Instead, Remus began the long journey of exploring the rest of your body with firm kisses and licking with the flat of his tongue. He paid special attention to your neck, as he always did this close to the full moon as his sharp teeth grazed over your pulse point, the animalistic side of his begging to bite down and mark his girl, but he restrained, knowing it would be painful for you. The last time he’d done so, he’d had a right bollocking off of James and Sirius, who prattled on about how you weren’t his chew toy, even though you had insisted that it was ok.

Moving lower, Remus worshipped your breasts. He was licking the skin around the areola before drawing your nipple and some breast tissue into his mouth, sucking with enough force that the area swelled with the rush of blood. The fire in your core intensified as you gained enough energy to lift your hands and grip his shirt.

“I need you, Remus, please stop teasing me”, you beg, but all that earned in response was an approved grunt.

“Relax, and just let me kiss you”, he sniped with desire as you wanted to sass back but found yourself melting into the table instead. Each inch of your stomach, hips, legs, arms, everywhere he could reach in this position, he praised with his mouth until he was once again hovering above your lips. “All I can think about is you”, he admitted, his tone caught between hunger and pain as his thoughts were becoming too clouded by the wolf’s desire to be close to you.

Your fingers combed through his hair as you tried to sound as calming as possible, “I know, Remus, it’s ok. I’m right here. Take me”.

A shiver ran down his spine as he finally began to unbuckle his trousers, freeing his cock between your bodies as he rested on his elbows on either side of your face so that his face could nuzzle into your neck.

You took the honours of reaching between your legs, grasping his impressively hard cock, admiring the soft skin and veins that bulged as you pulled him closer to where you needed him most.

“Tell me you’re mine”, he begged as you directed his tip to your soaked hole.

Tilting your head so that you could kiss his cheek, you implored, “I’m yours Remus - FUCK!”

All you could do was curse and cling to him as, with one powerful thrust, the majority of his cock stretched into your pussy. You could never take his entire length unless it were through anal play, but that didn’t stop him trying as the pressure became overwhelming as he nudged against your cervix.

Your thighs trembled once more as he gave you time to adjust, sighing blissfully against your neck as if he had finally found what it was that he was looking for. However, as your cunt frantically fluttered around Remus as you adjusted to the intrusion, Remus began to rut his hips in short, snapping thrusts slowly.

You groaned at the sensation and found your hips meeting his until all restraint was gone, and Remus was fucking you hard and fast.

Pushing up on his hands so that he was looking down at you, Remus fucked you hard. The table beneath you groaned just as loudly as you were as it rocked against the floor, and for a split second, you hoped it wouldn’t suddenly collapse beneath you two.

Remus suddenly moved as if hearing your thoughts, widening his stance as he stood to his full height, hands on your thighs and bringing your body to the very edge of the table. In this position, he could fuck you with quick snaps of his hips. Your back arched in this new position, pleasure pouring into your soul.

However, a noise over the sound of the fucking caught your attention as the fire flickered with green flames, and you couldn’t help but gasp, “Sirius!” as he stepped out of the fire, followed closely by James.

Remus, still with his head hunched slightly from where he was watching you intently, growled at the name used, his gaze hardening on you as he leaned back until you looked into each other's eyes. “Wrong name, Sweetheart”, he demanded lowly, fucking into you with as power as he could, causing you to cry out and tense with the pleasure. “I only want my name coming out of your mouth, do you understand?”

“Yes, Remus! I’m sorry!” you plead with him as he fucks you harder.

“There you go, Love. See, it wasn’t so difficult, was it?” As he talks, he lifts his hands and covers your eyes so you can no longer look at Sirius or James as you’re plunged into darkness.

“Don’t be too hard on her, Moony”, James teases from somewhere across the room as you hear him and Sirius shuffling around but are unable to see what they are doing.

Remus grunts but doesn’t stop with his motions, making sure that your next orgasm is just as overwhelming and powerful as the others as your cunt clung to him for dear life, attempting to milk his balls with the powerful clenches but he didn’t stop fucking you all the way through your orgasm.

Having his hand over your eyes was a disorientating position to be in, especially as he would every so often kiss your cheek or neck, savouring your soft skin before moving away so that his momentum could continue.

A hiss echoed across the room from wherever your other two boyfriends currently were, and as another whimper sounded from what you assumed was Sirius, Remus then decided it would be a good time to completely pull out of your pussy, leaving you gaping and empty.

Before you could moan, more disorientation flowed through you as his hand was removed from your face, and your body was being manhandled so that you were now being turned over on the table until your front was pressed against the wood. With a gentle kick to your ankle, Remus made room between your legs for himself and fucked into you. He was even deeper in this angle, which you didn’t think was possible as his chest pressed against your back.

His and didn’t return to your face, allowing you to look at your other lovers. Sirius was currently sitting on James’ lap, both of their fancy clothes more dishevelled from earlier as the bowtie and scarf were off and the top buttons were undone. They stared intently at you and Remus as they touched one another. James was kissing the column of Sirius’ neck whilst his hands groped at the bulge at the front of his trousers. At the same time, Sirius was grinding his hips down on James, who you assumed had a matching bulge that was rubbing against Sirius’ arse.

“You’re mine, Love. Aren’t you? My pretty girl”, Remus whispered with deep penetrations of his cock into your cunt.

“Yes! I’m yours, Remus! You’re so deep”, you proclaim with a cry as you find yourself already wanting to peak and cum over his thick dick again. However, Remus knew you just as well as you knew yourself and could feel the tightening of your soft walls and stopped all thrusting as you sobbed with the beautiful feeling washing away.

His hand eased beneath your face, holding your jaw and forcing your sight away from your boyfriend's until it was tilted to look over your shoulder at Remus. “You only get to cum after them”, he demands before nipping your ear love with a sharp tug of his teeth.

“Moony, you really are tense, aren’t you” Sirius jokes breathlessly as he moves more eagerly against James, whose hand is now fully inside of his boyfriend's trousers, wanking him off in time with the movements.

Thankfully it didn’t take them long to cum, Sirius first with his head thrown back and trousers staining a dark colour in a little puddle. James then rutted up into Sirius a few minutes later, groaning and stilling his movements. Both breathed each other in deeply, lazily kissing and holding onto one another until your sudden gasp echoed around the room as Remus continued with his fucking.

Your head moved to drop onto the table as you accepted the fucking, but Remus’ hand remained beneath, cushioning your face from the hardness of the wooden table as his lips moved to the junction between your throat and shoulder.

With each thrust, Remus repeatedly grunted the possessive word, “Mine!” until it was all you could think about. Your orgasm nearly caused you to pass out with its intensity. Juices streamed from your cunt, dripping down your thighs as waves of clenching pleasure constricted around Remus’ cock until he was forcing as much of himself as he could into you, and thick seed spurted into you. The warmth was welcomed as it soothed your pussy from the inside out as it began to trickle down your thighs, mixing with your own juices.

You were half aware of your movements, more concerned with the fact that you couldn’t control the tremble and sobs as Remus pressed himself harder over your back, making you feel grounded and safe.

“Shh. Slowly breathe in and out for me. That’s it. Slowly breathe for me again, keep going, well done”, Remus encouraged for some time as you’d been close to a panic attack with the overstimulation, close to tipping into the submissive headspace that would have taken them a lot longer to draw you out of.

“It’s just… a lot”, you say shakily, eyes closed and absorbing every warmth he was willing to give you”.

“I know, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you”, he reassured calmly.

You’re exhausted, ready to fall asleep right there on the kitchen table as you whisper, “I wanna go to sleep”.

Remus kissed your naked shoulder, “After we clean you up, ok, Love?”

As Remus begins to stand, his half-hard cock slipping out of your well-used hole with a slurp and shudder from both of you, did James finally step forward whilst readjusting his softening cock in his trousers.

Squatting down next to you, his fingers tentatively caressed your cheek while keeping an eye on Remus behind you to ensure the action wouldn’t trigger him somehow. “You alright there?” James asked softly.

“Mmhm. Just a little sleepy”, you say whilst closing your eyes at the ticklish touch on your face.

Sirius stepped forward from behind James, raising his wand and pointing it to the destroyed rest of the kitchen mess, “I’ll clean up here, you guys look after her, and I’ll join you in the bathroom”.

Remus had to carry you to the bathroom as liquid drips flooded out of you and marked the direction you had been giving Sirius more to clean up. As this house was altered for the four of you, the shower was wide enough to provide you with Remus and James plenty of room to wash together.

You attempted to stand up on your own but ended up leaning heavily on Remus as James washed the remnants of the fucking from your body was skilled, careful fingers.

“You know I didn’t mean to say the wrong name, right? I just didn’t expect to see them standing there and-” you begin to explain with Remus, worried he’d been upset by you saying Sirius’s name earlier.

However, his lips quickly cut you off with a simple peck, “I know”.

Kissing his cheek several times, you mumbled against his skin, “It’s hard to think of anything else when I’m around you. You’re all consuming, Remus”.

Against your lips, you feel the heat radiating off of him in a quick burst of rare embarrassment as he actually blushed at your words.

“She’s right, Moony. Without you, there is no us without you”, James quips in a rare statement of sincerity.

A cough from the bathroom door catches all your attention as Sirius casually leans against the door frame, cheeks round with roast potato as he joins in with the Remus praising. “There’s a reason why we all argue every night to see who gets to be spooned by the magnificent Remus Lupin”.

Three of you chuckled before you asked, “Are you eating my leftovers?”

“What?” he says with a shrug, stepping further into the room and beginning to take off his clothing at last. “The food was scarce at the party, and Moony’s roasties are always so fucking good”.

You nod in agreement before looking up at Remus once more, who looks quite proud of himself for the flow of compliments coming his way. However, as you attempted to lean up onto your tip toes again to kiss his handsome face in some way, your knees decided they were finished holding up your way as you nearly collapsed to the floor, only stopping because of his strong arms wrapping around your waist.

“As much as I appreciate this little pep talk, I think we need to get someone to bed”.

Remus lay in the centre of the bed, where he rightfully deserved to be tonight with you on top of him, face resting on his chest and legs on either side of his hips as each of your hands held his. Sirius and James joined later, deciding they needed some extra alone time in the shower together, as the dry humping hadn’t entirely filled that horny spot for either of them.

You were asleep by the time both men crept into bed, resting either side of you and Remus with arms spooning around your back as the three shared a kiss goodnight. “How was your night?” Remus asked, looking between James and Sirius. “You’re both sober, so I’m assuming no mischief?”

“Oh, Moony, like we need alcohol to cause a riot. Why do you think we’re back so early?” Sirius declares whilst flicking out the laugh and curling in closer to the warmth of bodies as Remus chuckles into the darkness.

#poly!marauders #the marauders #marauders smut #james potter x reader #james potter smut #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x reader #the marauders x reader #harry potter smut #hp smut #mine*

[chuluoyi]

✎ sweet felicity

- gojo satoru x reader

what do you get the man who already has everything for his birthday?

genre: teeth-rotting fluff and comfort because no—i can't make his birthday angsty ok

note: so this is my entry for the birthday boy <3 this takes place immediately after daddy-to-be, where the first years are still yuta, maki, panda and toge

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Honestly? Satoru wondered about it a lot these days.

He already has everything he wanted—unparalleled cursed technique, a fairly happy life, a pretty wife, and just recently, a kid on the way.

But his birthday was in a week and it was as clear as a day that you were planning something for him.

“Come on, you can't fool me, sweets.”

He noticed that you had started waking up earlier than usual. Initially, he thought it was due to your morning sickness, but it turned out you were sneaking away to another room for an hour or two and only came out when it was around breakfast time.

Did you really think he wouldn't catch on? Satoru found himself torn between concern and amusement. He didn't want you to strain yourself—especially after your recent fainting spells—and yet a part of him was over the moon by the fact that you did it for him.

His eyes crinkled, twinkling with affection. “You're planning something for my birthday in the mornings lately. That's sweet, but you don't have to, really.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why are you so sure that it's for your birthday? I never said anything."

"Well, what else could it be? Unless you're cheating on me at six in the morning—"

"I have your spawn inside me, Gojo Satoru—"

"Don't call it ‘spawn’!" Satoru interjected with a theatrical gasp. "It's our very own little munchkin! Our love! Love!"

This was so ridiculous and you couldn't help yourself from giggling. And seeing you like that softened something inside him.

"Really, don't push yourself too hard," he said with a pout, resigned. "You need lots and lots of sleep."

"I'm not a baby, Satoru."

"Half of you is, so it makes you one!"

He was dramatic, but it was his own way to care because your husband was just wired that way.

You sighed, relenting. “Okay, okay… I know my limits. I will stop when I don't feel well, yeah? Besides, I won't have time to do it except in the mornings because I still have classes to teach.” It seemed like he wasn’t satisfied with your answer so you added, “Just so you know, it's something I enjoy too.”

"Hmph," Satoru huffed, eyeing you petulantly. "It'd better be good, or I'll spank you."

If it were physically possible for your eyes to roll a full 360 degrees into the back of your head and back, they definitely would have. "Oh, you will adore it, I promise."

Well, it wasn't a part of the plan, but now that he had asked for it, you'd definitely add a twist in his gift...

Satoru connected the dots instantly when he saw yarn and needles—what else were you doing aside from knitting?

His sweet wife, who woke up early just to make a handmade gift for his birthday—ahh, his heart could've burst. It was so cute and so you, the warmhearted being that you were.

He would go back early today, he decided, as he strolled the halls of the Jujutsu High with a cheerful tune. You were certainly waiting back at home and he would shower you with love and praise just for your efforts alone these past few days.

And so, he would have never expected that when he received a call from Nanami that afternoon, his world would utterly shatter in the most terrifying way.

“Gojo-san, please, you must come back.” Nanami was always steadfast even in the direst situations. And yet, now he was breathing hard, and panicking. “Something happened. You must go back to your residence—”

In that moment all he could think of was you and his baby. His entire world. Were you hurt?

He didn’t dwell on it—or rather, he couldn’t. His fingers went to rip his blindfold off as a sense of exponential dread creeped in and threatened to engulf him whole—a very, very strange, unfamiliar feeling to him—and he teleported back to his haven in a blink of an eye.

He had been ready to unleash hell, to see you lying on your own pool of blood, or anything. No, that was something he could never be ready for, but he would somehow make it right—

“Ooh, there he is!”

“Already?!”

“Nevermind—”

—and suddenly, he was swept into a whirlwind of confusion and commotion.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GOJO-SENSEI!”

Today is December 7.

It took a while for Satoru to discern everything, with his pulsating heartbeats and the rush of emotions that overwhelmed him. His eyes darted from each and every face who were suddenly in his house, searching for yours—

“Satoru!” you greeted him from behind Nanami, radiantly beaming, and only then could he finally breathe. You are safe—you’re well—

You had meant for it as a joke, a little payback for all the grievances he had caused you—and let’s not forget, Nanami—but you immediately regretted it when you had a look over the absolute terror in his heavenly blue eyes that you loved so much.

You had seen this once, before, when he proposed to you.

“Satoru.” You waltzed towards him, gently cradling his stunned face in your hands. “Hey,” you coaxed him with an apologetic smile, reassuring him of your presence.

Satoru looked at you squarely in the eyes, and as he fully took in the sight of you, he let out a shuddering breath and pulled you close with a firm arm around your waist and and the other around your back.

“You evil woman,” he murmured in your ears, and you could feel the slight tremble of his body and the way his heart was still thumping wildly inside his sturdy chest, which made you feel even more sorry.

“Whoa, that got you good, huh?” Panda remarked with a bemused grin.

“As expected,” Megumi snorted.

“Salmon! Salmon!”

“Ehh, that’s actually sweet…” Maki noted thoughtfully. “I would have never expected him to drop everything that fast just to go back here only after a suspicious phone call—”

“Of course he would!” Yuta rebuked with pride. “It’s his wife after all! And Nanami-san truly did a really convincing job at it!”

Nanami. Satoru casted a stern glare toward his junior, while the man in question awkwardly coughed. How did you even involve him in this?

Nah, he would deal with him later.

Despite the scare that got him good, your little plan commenced as it should. The closest of his friends and students were there to throw him this silly birthday party, as well as shower him with a plethora of gifts.

You had managed to round up his students to write birthday wishes for him in a scrap book filled with various photographs throughout the past year. This is sweet, he thought.

And one note tugged at his heartstrings the most:

Thank you, sensei, for everything — Yuta.

If anything he did ever made an impact on those young sorcerers, then Satoru was wholeheartedly glad. He wanted them to grow and made their own path in this unforgiving world, and their gratitude stirred a profound sense of relief within him.

“Here.” He was genuinely surprised when Megumi abruptly pushed a long, thin box toward him next, shyly averting his gaze. “Happy birthday.”

A fountain pen. It must have costed him some. It was strange, but Satoru felt oddly emotional.

The kid was barely six when he first approached him. He was prickly and sour and definitely wasn't welcoming. And then, he had matured right before his eyes. Satoru couldn’t help ruffling his hair vigorously and snickered, disregarding the scowl directed his way.

Nanami extended his well-wishes, and even though he still had a score to settle with him later, he was happy to have him here. Shoko couldn’t come but she left you with a recorded message.

“Happy birthday, Gojo, idiot,” Shoko was grinning in the video you played. “I'm sorry I can't be there, but my wish is for you to tone down your antics. We could all use a bit less of that.”

The two remaining reminders of the bluest spring in his life. Something pricked his heart at the stark reminder that they were not whole—and if only that someone was here, they would—but the fact that these two thought of him was enough.

And now, at last, it was time for your gift. Satoru thought he knew what it was, but as he carefully opened the ivory box, a profound sense of warmth still washed over him.

Mittens, with the color of freshly fallen snow, lay in the box—two pairs in total. One was remarkably tiny, seemingly tailored for a baby, while the other was notably larger, undoubtedly meant for him.

You. Him. The baby. By this time next year, there would be three of you. The happy picture of all of you together in near future was a gift in and of itself. You two are his everything.

Satoru went by his instincts and grasped your arm, crashing his lips against yours ardently, beaming with the broadest grin. He paid no heed to the squeals and disapproving glances from everyone around, as he felt entitled to do so—declaring his love boldly so you would know… that he was utterly, hopelessly in love with you.

That he was grateful for you in this otherwise dreary life.

And that if there were any other lives he might live after this ended... then he hoped the heavens would always bring you back to him—and for you to always choose him just like this, no matter what.

Epilogue

“So you really did call Nanami at six in the morning.”

Later that night, just before bed, your husband was still holding a grudge on you for frightening him back in the day, evident by the permanent purse of his lips.

You shrugged, buttoning the last button of your sleepwear. “I did… but it’s for greater purpose, so… yeah.”

“I can’t stand this. I’m suing you for collateral damage.”

You almost laughed. “Pffft—what? What damage—”

“My fragile heart! You can’t do that to me and expect I won’t charge you!”

“Well…” You noted with a meaningful smile. You couldn’t say you didn’t expect this, because Satoru always got pouty whenever he was irked in one way or another, and so in advance, you had actually been prepared for this.

You caught him off guard when you suddenly sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers teasing his undercut. It was a nice change of pace, seeing the faint blush coloring his cheeks as he steadied you by your waist.

“…what if I say… I still have one present left for you?”

So, what did you get a man who already has everything for his birthday?

Your whole heart, of course.

And if you were in the mood for an additional surprise, a brand new pair of lacy lingerie you had under your pajamas might do the trick.

#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 #gojo satoru x reader #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x you #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojo x you #gojo #gojo fluff #gojo satoru imagines #jjk fluff #gojo satoru fluff #dad!gojo #satoru gojo fluff #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jutusu kaisen x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo

[sluttywonwoo]

fuck the neighbors

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f reader

summary: curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back- at least, that's what they say.

warnings: swearing, blood, asshole!wonwoo, mingyu is canonically a whore, light blasphemy, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: hard dom!wonwoo, allusions to voyeurism, degradation, oral (f receiving), blood play?!?!? (just a little bit!!!), wap!reader, massive cock!wonwoo, choking, protected sex

word count: 3.3k

reader notes: reader is significantly shorter than ww + described to have long-ish hair

You’ve never felt as small as you do right now. Wonwoo looms over you, smirking. He isn’t even that much taller than you, you just seem to shrink into yourself when you’re around him, which seems to be happening more and more often lately. 

“Found you,” he whispers. 

“I... wasn’t hiding,” you say, your voice coming out in a squeak. 

“You know it isn’t nice to lie,” he chides, taking a step closer to you. You take a step backward in kind, only to be met with the cool concrete wall against your back. “It also isn’t nice to eavesdrop.”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to,” you insist. 

Wonwoo tsks. “I don’t believe you. What did I just say about lying?”

“Well, it isn’t nice to be super loud all the time either!” you scoff. “You have neighbors, you know.”

The overhead light flickers. You and Wonwoo both stare at it, the inconsistent hum of electricity filling the silence before the light eventually decides to stay lit. You breathe a sigh of relief. You really needed to stop overlooking sketchy apartments for the sake of the rent, especially if you were going to have to deal with people like... him. 

Wonwoo cocks his head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean what am I talking about? Listen, I don’t care who you fuck but if you could be just a little quieter-”

Wonwoo cuts you off with a laugh. “That’s what this is about? That’s why you were snooping outside my apartment? What, were you hoping to catch a glimpse of her leaving or something?”

So you had been right... you’re not sure whether or not you’re happy about that. What you are sure of, though, is that you’re offended that you’re being accused of snooping. You open your mouth to defend yourself but stop short. 

“You’re bleeding,” is what you say instead. 

Wonwoo touches his lip, thumb brushing across the cut he must not have noticed until you mentioned it. He looks down at his fingers briefly then back up at you. 

“Come with me.”

“Wha- huh?”

“You want to know what’s so loud, right? So come on.”

You follow him blindly back down the hall to his apartment, the one right next to yours. You’re doing everything a final girl in a horror movie shouldn’t do, but you’re dying to know what’s been keeping you up at night. 

Wonwoo unlocks the door and stands aside to let you in first. With a gulp, you cross the threshold and slip off your shoes.  He does the same. 

The apartment is quiet, for once. It looks a lot like yours but mirrored. The kitchen is off to the right instead of the left. The half bathroom is on the wall opposite to yours, likely connected via plumbing.

The place is a lot cleaner than you expected too. It’s sparse, typical for a single guy, but still relatively well decorated. 

Wonwoo heads straight to the kitchen and turns on the sink. He wets a paper towel and dabs at his bottom lip, wincing as he cleans the wound.

“Why am I here?” you ask when he doesn’t offer an explanation. 

He doesn’t answer right away. Granted, the man was still bleeding but he’d dragged you here for a reason and now you were just standing in his kitchen. 

Eventually, he disposes of the paper towel, washes his hands, and walks across the living room without saying a word. You know he expects you to follow him but you almost don’t want to. You do follow him, you want to leave as fast as possible, but you consider it. 

He opens the door to what you know is a bedroom and points inside. You stare at him blankly. 

“What am I looking at?” 

“This isn’t my room,” he says. 

“What?”

“It’s my roommate’s.”

“You have a roommate?”

“I do. I have a roommate. He’s the one you share a wall with. He’s the one banging a different girl every night. Your issues are with him, not me.”

Now that you were thinking about it, you have seen a slightly taller, beefier man around the building. That must be who Wonwoo’s roommate is. He definitely had the face to pull all the girls Wonwoo was referring to. Not that Wonwoo didn’t-

“So take it up with him.”

You shake your head and purse your lips. “No, that doesn’t explain everything. I’ve heard your voice too. Unless you’re the one he’s banging...” you trail off, letting the implication hang in the air. 

“He’s not my type,” Wonwoo says flatly. 

“Okay, then what is it?”

“C’mere,” he says, moving along the wall to what you use as a breakfast nook in your apartment. 

In his, the space is empty save for a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. 

“You box?”

“It’s a hobby.”

“Is that why you were bleeding?”

“Yeah, I just got back from the gym.”

“And that’s what I’ve been hearing?”

“That’s what you’ve been hearing.”

You nod but don’t say anything else, half waiting for an apology that he doesn’t offer. He just leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Well, do you think you could practice your hobby before midnight? Or at least try to keep it down when you do?” you huff in annoyance.

He sighs like what you’re asking is the biggest inconvenience he’s ever been posed with but concedes.

 “I guess.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ll have to talk to Mingyu about his... hobby, though. Or get noise canceling headphones. That’s what I did.”

“Oh, okay.”

Silence stretches between you again, heightening the tension in the room. You don’t know what to do. Were you supposed to show yourself out now that you had your answers? Wonwoo isn’t giving you any indication that he wants you to leave but he isn't giving any indication that he wants you to stay either. 

You don’t have the time or energy to deal with this. You can’t read the man’s mind. No matter how hard he stares at you from across a room. With a definitive breath, you turn on your heel to head for the door just to be stopped by Wonwoo’s voice echoing behind you. 

“Are you disappointed?” 

You stop but don’t turn around. “What?”

“Are you disappointed that it isn’t me you’ve been hearing?” he clarifies. 

Heat rises to your cheeks. “Wh-what do you mean? Why would I be?”

You feel him approach from behind, his shadow closing in on you before he does. 

“Because it isn’t my voice you’ve been touching yourself to.”

“What?!” You do turn around this time, whipping around so fast your ponytail almost whacks Wonwoo in the face. 

“You don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me when I pass you in the hallway?”

You scoff, breathing a subtle sigh of relief. All he had to go off of was a look but if he had heard you through the wall, if he had that irrefutable evidence, it would definitely be over for you. “If that’s what you think lust looks like, I feel bad for all the girls you have slept with.”

“Resentment and lust have a very long history together,” he whispers. 

“You think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?”

You feign ignorance. “About what?”

“About you.” He measures you up with his gaze, something triumphant flashing behind his eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he presses. “Tell me you’ve never gotten off to the thought of me and I’ll drop it.”

You weigh your options. You could lie. You could save yourself the embarrassment and lie right to his face, although given your track record thus far he’d see right through it. Or, you could tell him the truth. You could admit to wishing you were the one in what you thought had been his bed all this time. 

You settle on silence and let him draw his own conclusion. A smirk tugs at one side of Wonwoo’s mouth. So he did think highly of himself. 

“I fucking knew it,” he murmurs. 

Before you can deny it, he straightens back up and starts walking toward the back of the apartment. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he announces. 

You don’t move from where you’re standing, unsure of what he wants you to do. Was he hinting at you to leave? Was it an invitation? 

Wonwoo looks back over his shoulder at you. “Are you coming?” 

“Hopefully,” you mutter.

“Hm?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

-

The water is already running by the time you slip into the bathroom after Wonwoo. You watch quietly as he undresses, letting the door click shut gently behind you. It occurs to you that you should be taking your clothes off too but you can’t look away. 

Wonwoo’s kind enough to snap you out of it. “I didn’t ask you in here just to watch me.”

“You didn’t ask me in here at all,” you point out, “you just expected me to follow you.”

“And you did.”

Damn, he had you there. 

With a noise of indignation, you pop the button on your jeans and start to wiggle out of them, unable to bring yourself to look at him again now that you’re also exposed. You can feel his eyes on you, though. It has the same effect his presence always has on you, and you attempt to cover yourself with your hands.

“Shy?” he muses. “Cute.”

“Shut up,” you sputter.

You don’t think you’ve felt this self conscious since college and then he laughs at your response which does nothing to help.

“I can’t call you cute?”

“Not if you’re patronizing me.”

“How do you want me to say it, then?” he asks, sinking down to his knees on the floor in front of you. You stare at him in disbelief. “You want me to say it like this? Want me to tell you how cute, how pretty, I think you are, from down here? How pretty I think this pussy is?” Wonwoo leans forward as he talks, further and further until his hair is tickling your tummy and his lips are moving against your skin. “Spread your legs for me, baby,” he murmurs. 

You do, taking hold of the countertop so that you won’t fall as Wonwoo slots himself between your thighs. You take a deep breath to brace yourself for the feeling of his mouth but absolutely nothing could have prepared you for the way he presses a gentle kiss to your pussy before diving in. The softness of the action compared to everything that led up to this moment, compared to the way he was now drowning himself in you, is enough to make your knees threaten to give. Your grip on the counter tightens and you bite down hard on your bottom lip to keep from moaning out loud. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction, though you’re sure he already knows he’s got you right where he wants you.  

Wonwoo hitches one of your knees over his shoulder so that he can get even deeper inside of you with his tongue. He drinks you in, breathes you in, douses himself in you like he’s trying to baptize himself in order to atone for his sins.  

If this was his apology for all the noise, he’s forgiven ten times over. 

You can feel callouses on the palms of his hands as he traces them up your legs and over your ass, pulling you even further into him. The force of his grip causes you to stumble but he catches you before you can fall and helps you to regain your balance. 

“I’ve got you,” he assures you, backing you up into the sink. “Here, hop up on the counter.”

“What about the shower?” you ask, suddenly remembering that the water had been running this whole time. 

“Oh shit-”

Wonwoo turns around and reaches to turn it off, drying both his hand and his face with a towel that had been hanging on the wall. 

“Now, hop up on the counter.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask, glancing at all of the skin and hair care products scattered across it. 

Wonwoo pushes them out of the way then nods. 

“I’m sure. Mingyu won’t care, trust me. He’d be a hypocrite to.” 

You sigh but hoist yourself onto the counter anyway, too horny to worry about it any longer. Wonwoo steps in between your legs and lets you wrap them around his waist. He leans down, you think he’s going to kiss you, but he goes for your neck and kisses you there instead. 

“Why are you pouting?” he asks, voice muffled and vibrating against your throat. 

“Want you to fuck me,” you lie. 

It’s not a complete lie, you do want him to fuck you, but it certainly isn’t the full truth either. You’re afraid that if you’re honest with Wonwoo about wanting him to kiss you it’ll turn him off. He’s not about to make love to you, that much is clear, so was kissing off the table? Was that too intimate for a hookup like this? Would he think you wanted something more if you asked?

“I was getting to that,” he insists lowly. “So impatient.”

“You’re the one who ate me out as soon as you got me alone. You haven’t even kissed me yet.” 

There. Maybe if you challenged him he’d give you what you wanted. 

“Oh, you want me to kiss you, huh?”

He wraps a hand around your neck and pulls you in, finally pressing his lips to yours. Men were so easy. 

He tastes like you imbued with unfamiliarity. Blood, you realize when you pull back and see the cut on his lip had reopened. It isn’t much, just enough to make him look vaguely vampiric. You swipe your thumb across his bottom lip and push it into his mouth for him to suck on. 

He does, but he has the audacity to pretend not to like it.  

“You’re sick,” Wonwoo scoffs. 

“And you’re still hard.”

“Two things can be true at the same time.”

He kisses you again before you can get another word in, dropping his free hand between your legs to ensure you're truly unable to talk back. 

He uses his fingers to tease you for a moment or two and then he teases you with the head of his cock, pressing it right up against you and making you whimper into his mouth. 

“Tell me, what have you been thinking about all these months,” he murmurs, “when you’re in your bed all alone listening through the wall?”

“I- it’s embarrassing...” you protest. 

Wonwoo draws back, tonguing his cheek as he gazes down at you. “Tell me or we’re done here.” 

You’re not sure whether or not he’ll make good on his threat but you don’t want to call his bluff and risk blowing your chance to actually live out the fantasies you were too embarrassed to share. 

“I thought about... this,” you say hesitantly. 

“This? You thought about me fucking you here?”

“No...”

“You’re going to have to be more specific then, angel.”

“It was, um, in your bed.”

“You mean Mingyu’s bed.”

“I didn’t know that at the time,” you whine.

He smiles. “I know. You know, if you had just paid a little closer attention you would have realized he sounds nothing like me.”

“I was a little distracted at the time,” you whisper.

“Yeah? Distracted pretending it was you in those girls’ positions?”

You nod reluctantly. 

“Poor baby,” he pouts, “must’ve been so jealous but so wet you just had to touch yourself, huh?”

You hate that he’s right. You hate that the condescension turns you on even more. 

While he’s talking, Wonwoo snakes an arm behind you and grabs a condom from a jar on the counter. Did he and Mingyu just keep them out for guests like they were cotton swabs or something? Did they get laid that often? 

He tears the foil packet open with his teeth and rolls the condom on as you watch and unconsciously spread your legs even wider for him. 

“Ready?” he asks, holding your face with both hands. 

It’s probably the first earnest interaction you’ve had with him. His eyes search yours for any sign of hesitation and even when he finds none, he waits for you to answer.

“Go ahead.”

You keep your eyes trained on his face as he guides himself inside of you, watching the way his eyelashes flutter and his breath hitches when he feels the heat of you around him. He pushes himself in slowly but the stretch still knocks the wind out of you, leaving you gasping for air.   

“Breathe, baby, breathe. You’re okay.”

You can hardly hear him over the roaring in your ears but you do your best to listen, chest heaving as you desperately try to anchor yourself to him. 

Wonwoo doesn’t move until you urge him to by wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing his hips with your thighs. It isn’t easy at first, despite how wet you are for him. He’s that huge. 

You almost wish he wasn’t just because you don’t think it’s fair for any man’s ego to be warranted, especially one as big as his. Though you suppose it’s fitting. 

 After a few rough strokes, he starts to play with your clit again to get you to relax a little. It works, your eyes roll and your head falls back against the mirror as the tension eases from your muscles. 

“Does it feel as good as you thought it would?” he presses. 

“B-better,” you admit.

“That’s because it wasn’t me you were hearing.”

You groan, annoyed that he still hasn’t let it go. You doubt he ever will. 

“It’s okay. I’ve thought about this too,” he confesses.

“You have?”

“Have you seen yourself?” he scoffs, “Don’t sound so surprised. I’d s-see you in the hallways, see the way you’d glare at me- fuck... who knew all this time you were right next door fantasizing about me while I fantasized about you. We could’ve been doing this so much sooner.”

You want to tell him that you have all the time in the world to make up for it now but you can’t find the words. They’ve dissolved on your tongue and left you with only his name to repeat over and over like you’re in a trance.

“Louder,” he pleads as fucks you even faster.

“But our neighbors-”

“Fuck them,” he spits. “They already hate us because of Mingyu, let them know my name too.”

Apparently you aren’t the only jealous one between the two of you. You want to laugh but you physically can’t, too caught up in the incandescent feeling in your stomach that threatens to engulf you entirely. 

“Fuck, are you about to cum?” Wonwoo gasps, lips parting in concentration. 

You nod. “Just a little more,” you beg, “yeah, exactly like that... oh fuck-”  

“I’ve got you,” he assures you. “Let go, I’m right there with you.”

It’s surprisingly sweet of him and you think he might realize it too because he grabs your jaw and pulls you in to kiss you as you fall apart together so that he can’t say anything else. 

Once you come down, he’s the first to start putting you both back together. 

“Wanna actually take a shower now?” he asks, holding out a hand to help you down from the counter. 

Your knees wobble on your landing but Wonwoo’s quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders wounded-soldier style and sit you on the closed lid of the toilet.  

“Take your time,” he tells you, kneeling on the tile in front of you. 

“Thank you.”

“Do you want to stay the night? I mean you can hardly walk. There’s no way you’ll make it all the way home.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “All the way next door?” 

“Exactly! It’s better not to risk it, right?”

You chuckle. “I guess.”

Wonwoo grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you home myself in the morning. I’m a gentleman, after all. And then we can piss off your neighbors.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

#fuck the neighbors #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen x female reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x female reader #jeon wonwoo smut #svt x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #flashing tw

[rizsu]

ex-husband!gojo, who wakes up every morning to his disappointment. it's been well over a couple months, yet he still extends his arm to feel for you.

ex-husband!gojo, who still has your contact saved as his main emergency contact. he uses this to his advantage— ringing your phone with the excuse of being "too drunk to drive." it works. he isn't exactly high off his brain, but he has alcohol in his system.

ex-husband!gojo, who happened to spot you with another man. who is he? is he your friend? your lover? perhaps you met after the divorce? whatever the status is, it doesn't help to soothe his jealousy. it's not like he can walk up to you — you might issue a restraining order against him.

ex-husband!gojo, who finds himself at your doorstep. it's late, storming, and you're probably asleep. he doesn't move. mind set in chaos as he ponders whether he should leave or ring the bell. he wants to see you, but the look of disgust he might receive is something he isn't ready to face.

ex-husband!gojo, who's shocked that you opened the door. he didn't ring the bell. were you already there? probably. his throat ran dry, unable to speak a word. you're leaning on the door's frame, arms crossed as you tilt your head. "you need something, gojo?" you asked, not willing to receive an answer.

"can i — can i come in?" he stutters, a little shocked at the use of his surname. the little sparkle of hope that you continue using his first name has been dusted.

ex-husband!gojo, who's fidgety in your home. your silence isn't helping him relax. hell, he hasn't known relaxation ever since the divorce. "help yourself to the kitchen. sleep wherever, i'm going back to bed," your voice held no volume of softness. it was as if you were but a stranger, yet he refuses to let you become one.

"then, may i sleep in your room? on the floor, of course," he's hesitant with his request, deciding it's best to justify himself, "i don't know my way around this house."

ex-husband!gojo, who's yet again stunned that you allowed him in your room — let alone your bed. now he's as still as a stick, unable to fall asleep due to his itching urge to pull you into him. you're most likely sound asleep, uncaring to the man you once called your husband.

ex-husband!gojo, who calls out to you, keeping his voice low as he speaks, "can we talk?"

you replied to him, voice still holding its tone of harshness, "what is there to talk about?"

"anything. how's life been for you?" he keeps his speech short, afraid of annoying you. it's a little late for that, however. you're already annoyed by the attempt of useless talks. "just get to the point, gojo."

and so he follows, sighing before he reveals his intentions, "i fucking missed you, that's all."

ex-husband!gojo, who's surprised when you sat up. although your room holds no light due to the black-out curtains, his eyes adjusted to its darkness, being able to see your every feature. your face, hands, neck, collarbone, chest — everything. he misses being able to run his hands through your body ever-so lovingly. when you lowered yourself right above his face, his eyes kept your gaze. your jaw's clenched. why does he look as if he lost everything? wasn't the divorce mutual?

ex-husband!gojo, who's rendered speechless when your voice cracked. he didn't expect it, nor did he expect you to say what you did. "i missed you, too." did you really miss him? he feels as though he's being lied to. raising a hand to cup your cheek, he shares his words, "really? then why not act on it if you're not lying?"

ex-husband!gojo, who happily accepts your kiss, moving his hand from your cheek to your nape. softly pushing you closer to himself — and to deepen the kiss. it's soft but rough. passionate but seeping with hatred. it's everything at once. you're pulling at his hair, purposefully tugging it as if you're using it to distract yourself from the escaping emotions. he's the same. using his other hand to travel along the junction of your neck and shoulder, squeezing it each time he feels to let the tears flow.

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen. #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo satoru headcanons #jjk headcanons

[rebeccccccaaa]

Too Sweet

______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: Practically at his beck and call, Spencer knows you’re too sweet for him. He knows he shouldn’t use you but he can’t stop himself when you’re also all too enthusiastic to fuck him ::

warnings :: smutttt, casual sex (kinda lol), oral (fem receiving), over stimulation, insomnia!spencer, spencer spitting facts (literally), reader is described to have hair length long enough to stick to your cheeks, obviously reader is described as afab, not sure what else i should tag so let me know what i miss :)

author’s notes :: hello, hello! honestly i saw this tik tok edit of spencer with this song (Too Sweet - Hozier) and felt a bit inspired by it and also loosely by lyrics too. please be kind as it’s been a couple years since i last wrote a fic and it’s my first one about dr reid too, so let me know if you guys like it, comment, reblog, all that jazz and critiques are more than welcome! Enjoy!

WC :: ~4k

_______________

It was pretty late into the night, it was the first weekend in weeks that the team was able to really enjoy. Spencer sat in a corner of his apartment, a glass of whiskey sat on the table as he flipped the pages of a book he’s read a thousand times before, albeit it was one of favorites. 

He was hesitant to call, he didn’t want to pull you away from enjoying your weekend but when it came to his pleasure, he put himself first. You were always too nice to say no to him and he knew that. It made him feel sleazy sometimes, but this was who he was now. Rugged, damaged, fucked up. He’d been through a lot. But in those moments where you squirmed and whined beneath him, he felt satiated. You were his drug now. 

“Hello?” he mumbled when the call picked up.

“Spencer,” your voice was a whisper as  you practically sang his name.

“You’re awake,” he said.

“Yes,” you responded.

“It’s a little late don’t you think?” he poked. 

“Then why are you calling?” 

You knew why he was calling. He only ever wanted one thing from you when the sky was dark. You didn’t mind it though. You basked in it. You kind of liked it. The feeling of having sex without commitment. Your job didn’t give you enough time for a commitment. You didn’t feel humiliated or belittled by Spencer’s desires. In fact, his lust for you turned you on in most cases. Most. 

Spencer was still a good friend to you. Regardless of sleeping with him, he was your closest friend. And recently, you noticed changes in him. Maybe you’ve kept a closer eye on him more than before but you were a little concerned. You had the right after everything he’s been through. He seemed more tired than usual, even though he was still punctual with work. Although you didn’t sleep in his bed after every time you slept together, when you did, you pretended not to notice his exits and long absences in between the long hours of the night. You could barely hear his ever so quiet footsteps roaming the living room. The clanking of coffee mugs in the kitchen and his quiet ‘Shit’ when he thought he was being too loud.

Three subtle knocks rapped his door, so quiet Spencer would’ve missed if he had breathed just a bit louder. A grin spread across his face subconsciously, glancing at the clock before taking long strides to the door. It was almost midnight. You stood in the doorway with heavy eyes, not the drunk kind, but the tired kind. He moved aside to let you in. Just like last time; and all the other times you showed up at his door for him. 

“I thought you went out tonight,” he questioned, rhetorically. 

“I did. For a bit,” you told him, “I just had one drink, then went home.”

“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, you already know the answer. And Spencer knows you know too, though he tried at first to be more subtle in his nightly fixtures. He simply sighed with amusement. You set your things down on his couch, eyes adjusting to the dim lights that hardly lit the room. The glass sitting on the table in the corner caught your eyes though. 

“What are you drinking?” you asked.

“Uh, whiskey. Neat.” 

“Ew, why?” you joked.

“It’s not that bad,” he shrugged. A whiskey wouldn’t exactly be Spencer’s first choice of drink but then again his first choice of drink wouldn’t even be alcohol. If it was, he would probably be content with a beer, or something of the sort. He was sort of going through a phase during nights. He was sleeping a lot less too. 

“I just didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of guy,” you teased.

“What kind of guy did you take me for?” he poked; he wasn’t really talking about drinks anymore though. 

“Water,” you joked, making him laugh. 

Spencer stood before you now. His hands were slightly hesitant this time to rest on your hips. 

“Is everything ok, Spencer?” you asked him. 

“Yes,” his voice was a whisper. 

You didn’t believe him, but you knew better than to press him. He was a stubborn guy and whether you did or didn’t you weren’t going to get an answer. You slid your hands up his chest before cupping the back of his neck with your hands. The kiss was chaste. You didn’t want to sleep with him if he was having second thoughts.

“Are you sure? If you’ve changed your mind I can head hom-,” you were telling him.

“No, don’t,” he rushed out. 

“I’m fine; I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he confessed. This surprised you, not because you didn’t know, but because you didn’t think he would tell you. 

“Well, then maybe I should go. That way you can finally get to bed before the sun comes up for once,” you joked with him, “Besides, you’re the one who's always telling people how important sleep is to the human body.”

Your words shocked Spencer this time. Admittedly, in the back of mind he suspected that you could sense him leaving his bed, or your bed sometimes, and that one or more times he’d been a little loud dwindling in the next room. But he didn’t realize you were fully aware of his nightly escapades. You knew him too well. You were too sweet to him. Spencer knew after all the fucked up things he’s been through he didn’t deserve your friendship; or anything more despite the fact.

“Did you know that elephants sleep the least of any other animal?” he told you, he doesn’t know why. Maybe to distract you, or seduce you. Both outcomes came often enough for him to make it a guessing game.

“You’re not an elephant.”

And then there were the ultra rare times when neither outcome happened; just now being one of them. 

“Sleep deprivation has been associated with reduced sexual desire and arousal,” he tried again.

“Well, I can help with that,” you teased. There we go.

He leaned down to kiss your lips but you pulled back in tease, smile on your face; you knew how pussywhipped you had this man. He didn’t want to fight it, he was growing desperate for you with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he dipped his head in the crook of your neck. His hands left your hips, pulling you closer to him from your waist and lower back. Your hands began to unbutton his shirt, he was still wearing the clothes you saw him working in earlier that day. 

You stopped him, never been one to have sex anywhere other than the bedroom, taking his hand already knowing where to go after doing so many times before already. Although, it wasn’t like his apartment was a confusing labyrinth. He followed you like always. 

You reached the edge of the bed, sitting instinctively. Your hand went straight to his belt, undoing it with ease. Spencer pulled your hands away from his hips before sinking to his knees to the ground. He pulled your hips to the very edge, scratching the skin as he desperately pulled at your pants bringing them down your legs. Of course you let him.

He pushed you back and you fell on your elbows, still able to see him so clearly. See him dip his head and kiss the skin on the inside of your knee, his eyes lingering on yours. You let your head go for a second, basking in the feeling of his lips. They always made you feel so warm and tingly. One thing about Spencer, he loved foreplay. All the little things that lead up to sex. Most of the time, he craved the foreplay more than the sex itself. 

He moved your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hands holding your hips. His nose ran along your inner thighs. Your skin erupted in goosebumps at the feeling of his warm breath coming from his nose. His fingers fiddled against your hip bones and you wiggled a bit becoming desperate by the minute for something more than just this teasing.

“Spence,” you whined, looking back at him.

“It doesn’t matter how many times we do this, you’ll never learn patience will you?” Spencer bartered. 

“Spencer, I don’t come to you to learn patience,” you spat, not with any malice however.

“You won’t come at all with that attitude,” he snapped back, hiding a grin between your legs. 

“Spencer!” you gasped.

He chuckled lowly, bringing his hand between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side to expose you to him. You were glistening, slick beginning to leak from you already. Spencer could feel himself getting hard. He precariously tried to not buck his hips into the bed like horny teenager.  

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. 

He stepped up quickly letting your legs drop harshly. His fingers curled over the hem of your underwear pulling them down and tossing behind his shoulder before returning to his previous position. He felt like he was possessed. Acting and moving like it was primal, instinctive. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to satisfy you. 

He kissed all the places except the place you needed the most. You curled your toes anticipating his next move, longing for his lips, tongue, fingers, anything to bring you pleasure. Just when you were about to sit up, ready to nag at him, his lips wrapped around your bud. 

Your shoulders gave out at the feeling. Your body electrifying instantaneously. Your eyes trained on the ceiling, focusing on everything about Spencer in this moment, the sounds, his touch, his tongue. His tongue dipping in you every now and then, making you moan feverishly. His hands spread out, pinning your hips down to the bed to try and get you to stop wiggling your hips, but he wasn’t too successful in that. 

“Knock it off,” he groaned, removing a hand wrapped around your leg to bring his fingers to your entrance.

“It’s not enough; I need more,” you whined.

“No, you want more,” he debuted, “You’re being greedy.”

“And you’re being mean,” you quipped, you always had something to retort.

“Ok, fine,” he stood up.

“Stop!” you whined, “Please, come back. Do whatever you want.”

“I will,” he sat on his knees again, instantly bringing his fingers up to rub slow circles that made your toes curl. 

He purposefully let them every now and then prod at your entrance make your hips jerk in surprise. He could see how wet you were, all of the slick telling him how needy you were. He looked up to look at your face. His eyes catching your nipples peeking through the fabric of your shirt from the pleasure already, smiling to himself. 

“Sexual arousal can cause an increase in blood flow to not just female genitalia, but also the breasts,” he told you, feeling your thighs squeeze ever so slightly.

“Is that your way of telling me my nipples are hard because of you?” you teased.

“Yes,” he stated before diving straight back between your thighs. 

His tongue did circles like his fingers, the wetness and warmth much more stimulating than before. His fingers slid inside you, curling when he couldn’t push them any further. You moaned out, reaching your hand down to comb your fingers through Spencer’s shaggy hair. The noises of everything bounced off the walls of Spencer’s shallow bedroom. It sounded vulgar but so sexy. Your heavy breathing practically syncing together. 

Your thighs squeezed more and more as you got closer to your climax; you didn’t care if you were suffocating Spencer. If he died, he died pleasuring you and neither of you minded it in this moment. Your hips grinding against his tongue chasing you release frantically. Spencer pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly, leading you to ecstasy. 

Your breaths became shaking, as did your moans. You were overcome with pleasure as your orgasm hit you so suddenly. You could feel Spencer’s smile growing against you, you knew that he wasn’t going to withdraw despite reaching your climax. 

“Oh god, too much, Spence.” 

“First it was not enough, now it’s too much?” he taunted you, fingers still pumping in and out you strenuously. 

“Spence!” you wailed, your voice trembling embarrassingly. 

When he wouldn’t give out, you pulled at his hair as you sat up and pulled his mouth away from between your thighs. 

“Oh ow, ow, ow!” he whined. 

“Jesus, you were gonna give me a heartache,” you whined. 

“Actually the possibility of having a heart attack during sexual activity is exceedingly low. So you wouldn’t have had anything to worry about; if anything you would get a small headache,” he explained. 

“You’re giving me a headache,” you whined, making him laugh.  

You pulled him from the back of his neck, crashing his lips against yours. You loved to kiss Spencer. You always felt the closest to him physically when you kissed. Which is ironic since he was quite literally inside you most nights. Kissing, the art of kissing, was practically your love language. You always gave small pecks when you were together, privately of course. 

Spencer was worried at first, that kissing was too intimate that things would complicate fast and feelings would get hurt. But as time went on and things continued to stay normal between you, he just began to relish in it rather than worry about nothing. At least that’s what he’s convinced himself of. 

He suddenly remembered the first time you slept together. You were in his apartment one night going over some details of the case. Nothing so major, or frightening, but something wasn’t adding up. You decided to take a break, cracking open some beers and just talk. One beer became two, then three, then four and then suddenly bottles littered the pitiful coffee table in front of you. You were very clear with him, “I don’t just sleep with anybody.” But you were a woman with needs just as much as Spencer was a man, “Neither do I.”

“Things have to stay the way they are if we do this,” he told you that night.

“They will,” you assured him. 

You rested your forehead against his seeing his eyes seem different. Spencer always did this. Everytime, just for a minute or even a second, he would disappear behind his eyes, like he was reminiscing on a memory you couldn’t describe. 

“You did that thing again,” you said with a small grin on your face. 

“I know,” he blushed, “Sorry.”

“You ever gonna tell me what you’re thinking about when you do that?” you questioned.

“Nope,” he smirked, making you giggle. 

Spencer stood straight up shagging his shirt off before scrambling out of his pants. He crawled back over you settling his hips between your thighs as he dipped his head down to attach his lips to your neck. Your hand curled around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair as his breath and lips tickled your skin. Your hips fit together snuggly, grinding against desperate to chase each other’s highs.

Spencer reached into the drawer beside your head to pull out a condom. You snatched it from his hands with a devilish smirk on your face tearing it with your teeth. You spat the foil corner from your mouth, pulling the condom from its package before tossing it aside. You reached between your bodies stroking Spencer. His face blushing red, contorting with pleasure as it’s the first of the night to feel some sort of friction he needed from the beginning. The reason he called you in the first place. 

Spencer let his hands trace your skin. Though you wouldn’t react, your skin erupted in goosebumps. Feeling him prodding against your entrance, your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat. You always anticipated this part. No matter how many times you and Spencer spent the night together, you couldn’t ever get used to the flips your stomach made at this time. 

Spencer pushed his hips into you, his length stroking your walls making your hum in delight. Spencer’s breath became heavy as he pulled out just enough before rutting back in you with skill. Your face began to feel hot as Spencer began to find a good rhythm. You could feel the sweat building on your forehead, the air cold against your scalp. 

You looked at Spencer’s face; the veins bulging from his forehead and his neck. You cupped his cheek with your hand, catching his rhythm with your hips. Your breath became heavy, your hums became moans. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most vocal lover you laid with. Not that Spencer was your lover of course. That‘s not what you meant.

“What’s going on in that pretty little brain?” Spencer’s voice took you from your sudden trance; his pace beginning to slow. He brought his hand to your face, pulling the stray hairs that stuck to your cheeks from your sweat away.

“Nothing, just don’t stop,” you sighed, pulling his lips down to yours again. 

Spencer picked up his pace again, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. You felt overcome with an ambitious heat throughout your body. You pushed Spencer’s shoulders up trying your best to cool down without stopping your chase to your high. Spencer sat on his knees gripping your hips, practically ramming his hips into yours. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets beneath you. 

“Oh god, fuck,” you cried out. Your thighs squeezing Spencer’s torso as you began to get closer to your climax. 

“Shit, it’s like I can’t get enough no matter how many times I have you squirming beneath me,” he gloated. 

You could see Spencer's chest begin to get red, his knuckles however turning white. Your hands reached down gripping his wrists. Prying them away, before sitting up to straddle his legs, as they stretched forward, adjusting comfortably. You held on to his shoulders sturdily, finding an entirely new rhythm to chase your high. 

Spencer’s hands ran up your back, sliding under your shirt that you had yet to take off. No wonder you were overwhelmed with heat. He peeled the tight fabric from your skin, tossing it to the ground like he has so many times before. He unhooked your bra with ease, his eyes instantly trained to your chest. He couldn’t help his hands following, massaging the soft skin. Spencer looked up to you as you bounced up and down. Sweat dripping seductively down the valley of your breasts. 

“You’re so pretty,” Spencer whispered, staring up at you.

“I know,” you joked breathlessly, giving him a playful wink. 

Spencer let out a breathy laugh at that. The both of you were itching for a release now. Your bodies squirming against one another, aching to give the other the release. You leaned back placing your hands on his thighs, moving your hips faster and harder than before. 

“Spencer, I’m getting close, I feel it,” you whimpered, “Please tell me you’re close too.”

“I’m close,” he breathed out.

“Fuck,” you cried.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let go,” Spencer mused, he reached between you two, fingers circling quickly between your thighs to bring you to climax even faster.

You gasped out, chest heaving as you felt the waves of pleasures wash over you suddenly. You couldn’t help the loud moans escaping from you as you threw your head back; arched back and thighs tensed. Spencer’s hand held your body close to himself, and you curled forward wrapping your arms around his head as you climaxed indefinitely. Spencer grunted below you, his legs stiffening and jerking upward. Curses whispered from his lips. 

“Oh, shit,” you gasped, relaxing and slumping your body over Spencer. 

“Treat me good, like always,” he whispered, his hand coming briefly to stroke your hair gently. 

He rolled you over, laying you lazily on his bed before climbing out of the bed swiftly. He stumbled his way to dispose of the rubber. He grabbed a small towel from a drawer along with something to cover himself. He sat silently on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning you as your eyes slowly blinked, telling him you were exhausted. 

“You want to stay the night? I can see how tired you are.” 

“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning,” you quipped with a small grin on your face. 

Spencer laid beside you, covering your body with the blankets. You curled by his side, your leg falling over his hips. He turned the lights out, but the soft golden glow from the lights in the room next door streamed in. His arm wrapped around you, fingers softly stretching your back. Steady breaths against his chest gave him a sense of comfort. He was always a bit jealous how easily sleep came to you; how peaceful you looked when you did. Spencer tried to close his eyes. He tried to let rest wash over him like a blanket. What felt like seconds was an hour. And another hour. He peeked at his watch laying on the nightstand beside him, three o’clock the time read. 

Sighing, he sneaked out of bed, careful to not wake you. He skulked towards the kitchen, eyeing the small glass of whiskey still on the table. He couldn’t help smirk to himself over it. He opened the cabinet grabbing a mug, pouring a bitter liquid into it. He took a big swig of his favorite beverage, basking in all the flavors, when suddenly a beautiful figure stood before him. 

“Hey,” his voice was quiet. 

“I’m guessing you haven’t slept,” you tiptoed your way to him, you could hear him sighing. 

“Is there anything at all I can do to help you?” you whispered, carefully placing your hand on Spencer’s warm back. 

“No, but having you here is enough.”

You were beginning to blur the lines between your arrangement and your friendship. But neither you nor Spencer could muster up the courage to stop what you’ve started. Spencer indulged in your sweetness, the way you were always there to satiate his desires, the way you opened yourself to him like heaven’s gate. And you, well you would never admit it. Being in love with Spencer that is. You’ve known him for years; seen the best parts of him and helped him through the worst. You knew him the best of anyone you’ve known before. And he could say the same too. He’s never opened up to anyone as much as he has to you. 

You were perfect for each other. And yet, Spencer wouldn’t allow himself to bask in it. He truly believed he didn’t deserve you. That all the demons that haunted him in these dark hours were undeserving of your kindness, compassion, gentleness. Simply thinking about you was often enough to calm him in tense situations. But he would never tell you this. So here he was, standing in the kitchen with his coffee black at three in the morning wondering why you couldn’t see that he would never be enough for you. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #first fic back!! #hope you enjoyed reading #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #mgg fluff #mgg x reader #reader insert #smut

[hedgehog-moss]

Here are 7 little facts about my donkey and how his summer is going :)

1. I received an anon the other day asking if Pirou was still a working donkey who carries my firewood for me, and the answer is yes. I've been cutting some branches from the big cherry tree that fell down the other day, and Pirlouit has been valiantly carrying them to the woodshed—fun fact, for this activity he likes to wear his ears like this:

Probably because this T position is reminiscent of Jesus' sacrifice on the cross, which is how Pirlouit perceives himself as he carries heavy logs for me. He's willing, but his martyrdom should be acknowledged.

Here's Poldine acknowledging it with a nose kiss, because Poldine.

I stopped so they could have their little chat.

2. Pirou has been chatting with a lot of new friends lately—we met these horses on a walk and he was so happy to stop and touch noses with them while making equid noises. Llamas are good with the nose-touching but their llama noises are just less interesting to Pirlouit. He had such interested ears here! "Finally a serious grown-up conversation"

We also met this goose during the same walk and Pirlouit was a lot less eager to go say hi to her. The goose was yelling threats at us and we prudently stayed away, and Pirou was clearly thinking "this bird is doing a better job at protecting her home from intruders than Pandolf ever could" (it's true, Pan assumes intruders are friends until proven otherwise)

3. You'll notice that there are houses in this pic! Our walks got longer and longer until one day we went all the way to the village (it took 1 hour 20min at Pirlouit's leisurely pace). I was so proud of him. I've been trying to convince my friends to go to the village on donkeyback (this requires two people, because you can ride Pirlouit but you can't tell him where to go unless there's someone holding his rope and leading the way)—my friends were reluctant because they still sort of perceive Pirou as the feral animal terrified of everything that he was when I got him. They know he's made a lot of progress but going to town on donkeyback still seemed foolhardy.

So we've been riding Pirlouit in the woods, in familiar environments, and we also went to town with him but without riding him. He was amazingly calm and brave! There's a river that cuts the village in two and the first time we went, we stopped before the bridge, since it's pretty narrow and cars would have to drive very close to Pirlouit, we didn't want to risk it. We just went to say hi to the librarian who lives on the right side of the river, but since Pirlouit was very serene, we did cross the bridge the second time.

He did not care at all about cars driving very close to him (he had one familiar human on either side of him and the drivers were very considerate and went slowly), which emboldened us to stop for a drink on the terrace of the coffeeshop on main street (< also a narrow street with cars driving by quite close to Pirlouit). There was just no problem at all, Pirou let total strangers rub his forehead and was more interested in iced tea than main street traffic.

It was a hot day and we gave him all the ice cubes from our drinks and he chewed them enthusiastically.

4. We made a stop at the pharmacy on our way home because we had another 1 hour 20min walk ahead and I had a blister, and the pharmacist noticed my donkey parked outside his shop and in a determined tone he said, "I want to try something." He took one of the donkey milk soaps from the overpriced-Provence-soaps-for-tourists display and opened the door and offered it for Pirlouit to sniff.

... I'm not sure what he was expecting—for my donkey to go "ohhh this smells like Mother's milk and aloe vera 🥺"—but unfortunately nothing happened.

(4. bis—Sorry, this 4th fact was anticlimactic.)

5. Pirlouit is now the proud owner of a surcingle. Not for equestrian vaulting and not for his log-carrying job because I don't know if it would be solid enough for the weight of a bag full of logs, but I'd like to tie bags or baskets to it to take Pirlouit grocery shopping, now that I know he's okay with going to town :) He even seems to enjoy the adventure, and the attention he gets from children.

And actually I shouldn't write off equestrian vaulting because Pirou is also remarkably chill with weird things happening on his back. I used to be very careful to climb on his back in a quick & fluid way so he wouldn't spook (because he used to! a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil used to spook him!) but now that my friends are riding him I can confirm we've reached a point where you can climb on Pirlouit's back in any way you want and he'll just be like "...... sure"

6. I almost forgot to mention that Pirou turned 15 last month, according to his ID papers :) Donkeys have a longer life expectancy than horses, they can live 30-40 years on average so he's still a young lad really. Happy 15th birthday Pirlouit :)

7. I wanted to conclude with a nice aesthetic pic of Pirou's shadow on the road during all those walks, like I did with Poldine, but unfortunately donkey shadows do not have the chic je-ne-sais-quoi of llama shadows. Pirlouit looks like a hammerhead shark wearing a tiny fez and that's not his fault.

#crawling along #i am so proud of him! #4 years ago i couldn't even touch him let alone halter him let alone... any of this #he's a great donkey. very curious and interested in the world around him especially iced tea bottles

[thestarkinternship]

Mine

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)

Summary: When you went out for drinks with the team one Friday, you had no idea that this was how the night would end: with your back pressed flush against your bedroom door, a shaking thigh hitched over your boyfriend's shoulder and his pretty mouth daring you to completely let go for everyone to hear.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: no mention of Y/N, profanity, oral sex (female receiving), jealous!Bucky, posessive!Bucky, slight praise kink, slight exhibitionism (people overhearing), hickeys, MINORS DNI!

A/N: This is my first time writing anything like this and i was (still am) very nervous to post it. But I promised myself I'd get back into writing, even if this is how I'm doing it. Thank you @ellemj for encouraging me to do this <3

"What do you think you were playing at tonight, huh?" Bucky's low voice caught your attention the second the pair of you walked through the door to your room. Looking up from the dresser where you had set your purse down, you met his eye. What once were bright blue had now clouded over with something else, something darker. Jealousy.

A lot of things came from having a secret relationship with Bucky. You got to see the sweet, caring side that he showed to no one else. You got to be the one he trusted most, and in turn place your trust in him. Above all else, you got to love each other. Tenderly, passionately, consumingly. And to you, the best part of it was that the other Avengers were none the wiser. All of the love and shared moments were kept just for you, hidden in late night walks and early morning kisses. It was better kept that way, you had always thought. No one was able to interfere with what they didn't know about.

But Bucky's mind thought differently, even if he had never wanted to admit it. He would've shouted from the rooftop of the Avenger's tower how much he loved you if you would've asked him to. He'd wrap a strong arm around your curves in front of everyone and kissed you on the cheek, a proud grin on his face as he got to show off the fact that you were all his. But he'd suppressed how he really wanted to act in favour of keeping you happy. After all, that was what mattered to him most of all.

That was until tonight. Bucky knew he was in trouble from the second you set foot in the place. There you were, your skirt grazing the top of your thighs, your long sleeved black shirt clinging to your curves like an elastic band. His eyes were no longer the only ones on you, and there wasn't a damn thing that he could do about it. Until now that you were back home.

"What are you talking about?" You asked quietly, looking up at him.

"You know damn well what i'm talking about." He took a daring step closer to you.

With a mind of their own, your feet took a hesitant step back, the soft click of your heels dragging across the floorboard in the uncomfortable silence. It wasn't like you were afraid of him, you never had been. But there was a dangerous atmosphere surrounding him that made you nervous.

He closed in on you as you didn't answer. Leaning down, his lips hovered close to your own, leaving just enough space for his thumb to reach up and trace your quivering bottom lip. You'd always thought it felt more personal when he touched you with his right arm. As much as you loved the feel of the cool metal sliding acros your skin, it was like he craved the true feeling of the flushed heat from your skin as it reacted to his touch and his touch only. In between your shaky breaths, his thumb dipped between your parted lips. But you resisted the urge to suck on it in the way he liked until you got to the bottom of what was getting this much of a rise out of him. When he saw that you weren't giving in to him just as he wanted, Bucky's tongue rolled in his own mouth.

Fine, if that's how you were going to be. He thought stubbornly.

He withdrew his thumb from your mouth, dragging down your bottom lip as he leaned in to capture it in a hungry kiss. As confused as you were about the whole thing right now, one thing was certain - when it came to kissing Bucky Barnes, you were certainly not about to complain or ask him to stop. His metal arm flew to your hip, the soft material of your skirt bunching up in his fist. You shivered slightly as the vibranium unintentionally brushed against your bare skin. Still holding onto you, he guided your hips back until you heard the soft thud of your body against the door as your back pressed against it. His right hand slid from the side of your face and to the nape of your neck. Reaching up, Bucky tugged gently at the root of your curls, twirling the soft strands around his rough hand. A soft gasp left your mouth, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours. You welcomed the feeling, giving in to him completely as the curious thoughts about what had led you to this position slipped from your mind.

And just as quickly as it had began, his lips were gone. They trailed across your trembling jaw and down the soft juncture of your neck. His tight grip released your hair, and your head nearly fell slack against his at the sudden loss of the physical control over you. Bucky tilted your chin back up and to the side, his precise movements giving him all of the access to your exposed throat that he desired. Delicate kisses on your skin turned rough, and his teeth gently nipped at you to earn soft whimpers. He smirked against your skin, rolling it between his full lips even harder.

"Fuck, you're gonna leave a mark…" you whined, "Bucky, you're being too damn rough, you're gonna…"

Bucky finally let go off your skin, but kept dangerously close to your ear instead. There was a split second before he spoke where all you could here was his panting breaths, and that alone kept your heart pounding.

"Maybe I should mark you up," Bucky's voice was ragged, "send you down to breakfast tomorrow morning covered in hickeys that I gave to you, just to remind Steve every time that he sets eyes on your pretty face that you're mine."

Your hazy eyes shot wide open. There it was. That's what this whole ordeal had been about? Bucky was jealous of Steve?

"Wh-what do you mean?" You could barely stutter out.

"Back in the bar tonight."

You swallowed nervously as you cast your mind back over the events of the evening. Being excited to see everyone. Knocking back several drinks over the course of the evening. Bucky smirking as you found any excuse to get close to him without anyone noticing. Nodding politely in your conversation with Steve as you tried to distract yourself from the less than pure thoughts that arose whenever you made eye contact with Bucky. Thinking about how good he looked in that leather jacket. Wondering how long it would be before you'd be dragging him back to the tower and taking it off him- Fuck. You were doing it again.

Bucky's face softened when he realised that you truly had no idea what he was talking at. He chuckled slightly at your obliviousness. How could someone so intelligent miss the careless flirtation thrown her way from her teammate?

"He was flirting with you all night, you know?" Bucky pulled back slightly, his hand moved from your chin to cup the side of your face. His earlier confidence wavered as he suddenly felt a pang of guilt for getting so jealous. "Did you really not see how he was looking at you? I swear, he must've pulled every trick in the book to try and get your attention tonight."

Looking past the jealously, you saw a vulnerability. The fear that he might lose you to someone else. You hummed gently, stroking his cheek as he kept you so close.

"How was I supposed to notice when all of my attenion was on you?" You asked gently.

He smiled at your reassurance. "Really?"

"Of course, James."

"And what about right now? Where is all of your attention?" Bucky tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"Right on you." You murmured, watching him lean in again.

"Exactly where it should be." His hand left your face. It trailed down your neck, and then your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as it joined his vibranium one at your hips.

And suddenly, his lips picked up where they left off, kissing and teasing your skin. He bent his head down further to your collarbone, and then the crest of your cleavage as it peeked out of your lowcut top. Squirming, your back arched away from the door and into his waiting arms. The subtle movement of your body gave Bucky space to slip his hand up under your skirt to cup your ass. His fingers pressed into the soft flesh as he hooked your leg around his waist, pressing his hips against yours. A soft gasp echoed from your trembling lips as you felt just how hard he was through his jeans.

"Can't say I blame Steve when you look this good, doll. So fucking pretty. And it's all for me.. God, I don't know how much longer I can keep us a secret. Want everyone to know you're mine." He mumbled in quick succession as his lips worked their way back across your skin to capture you in another sweet kiss.

"What if I want that too?" You asked softly, biting your lip.

The corners of his lips tugged into a smirk. "You sure? I thought-"

"I'm tired of hiding us," you interrupted, "i'm yours, and it's time everyone else knew."

"If that's what you want…" He teased, an idea playing out in his mind as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

"Bucky, what are you-" Your own gasp cut you off as you felt him lift you leg, resting it over his shoulder. He kissed your inner thigh and your head fell back against the door.

Oh, that's where he was going with this.

Tracing lazy circles up your thigh, his mouth worked it's way up. Every movement made left you needy and wanting more. Soft moans from you filled the room, and his enhanced hearing heard every one as your thighs cushioned his ears. The sounds you made when he hadn't even touched you yet were embarassing. But you couldn't help yourself. Bucky knew how to push you closer to the edge better than anyone, and he wasn't afraid of showing it. By the time he reached the edge of your underwear, you were done for. Your arousal soaked through the thin material, and you knew he could feel it. Bucky chuckled slightly against the lace fabric, his heavy breath sending waves of pleasure straight to your core. Hips stuttering against his face, you grinded closer in a desperate need for him to do something else. Anything else.

"What's the matter, hm?" He murmured, licking right up to your clit. Even over your underwear, the touch was more than enough to make your body quiver.

"Bucky…" You whined, running your hands through his hair and tugging lightly.

"Someone's awfully needy," He tutted. Looking up at you, Bucky grinned like a devil as your wetness spread across his pink lips, "Who's got you like this?"

But you were so far gone in your own world that you almost didn't hear him. When you didn't immediately answer him, he grew impatient. Bucky's tongue rolled over the flimsy lace once again and your thigh tensed over his shoulder. The stem of your heel dug into his back slightly, drawing him in closer to you. To where you so desperately wanted him to be.

"Tell me." His voice was hoarse and demanding.

Another flick of his tongue. Another cry from your lips. "Y-you… always you."

"Good girl." He paused momentarily, hooking his thumb under the delicate edge of your underwear and ripping it to the side. You gulped nervously at the tearing sound of it as he finally set eyes on your bare core. "And now I want you to let everyone in this damn building hear it."

-

The next morning at breakfast was awkward to say the least. When you walked into the kitchen midmorning, legs still shaking, all eyes were on you.

"Morning." You mumbled, avoiding eye contact as you prayed no one would bring up the night before. You simply wanted them to realise you were dating Bucky now, and leave it at that, not another word mentioned. The few team members already there smiled politely, ignoring the obvious elephant in the room. As you wrapped your hands around a coffee mug, the sleeves of Bucky's sweater encase your hands. The cheeky bastard had insisted that you wear it today 'for good measure', because apparently the way you had screamed his name all night long wasn't enough. It still smelled like his cologne, marking both the jumper and you with traces of him. You kept your head down, hair covering the purple marks on your neck. As the strands brushed over the sensitive skin, you winced.

"Everything okay?" Steve asked quietly, glancing your way.

As you turned to meet his eye, your carefully placed hair shifted. Steve's gaze dropped to your neck, eyes widening at the sight he was met with. Looking over the purple that stained your skin, he swallowed nervously whilst trying to find the right words to say.

Eventually, he cleared his throat and spoke what was on everyone's mind. "So, uh… last night… was that you that we heard with… you guys are…"

"Yeah." Your head snapped up to the doorway of the kitchen. Bucky leaned against the frame, his arms folded across his chest and a smug grin plastered across his face, "She's mine. And don't you ever forget it."

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky angst #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel #the winter soldier

[ozzgin]

OZZGIN!

May I request an idea/imagine?

It is about yandere! mental asylum patient and psychiatrist! reader, who is very practical and strict regarding her job, takes no BS from others. But, for some reason, she has a soft spot for yandere! mental asylum patient. The reason could either be he had a hard childhood in which he had to do what he had to do, which brutally killed his father, who used to abuse his mother and sister, but when the father tried to sell the sister into prostitution to buy more alcohol, all hell break lose. Psychiatrist! reader thinks what yandere! mental asylum the patient did was OKAY, and she wants to get him out of the asylum. They love each other deeply and would do anything, so far as to kill for one another. If you can, make it as twisted as you can. I live for some dark romance!

Please ignore my request if you are not able to do it. I completely understand. Thank you in advance! <3

Oh my, this request hits somewhat close to home as I have a friend incarcerated for similar reasons. I'm pondering the logistics behind this context you've provided, since murdering someone won't necessarily land you in a psych ward unless there are other symptoms that come with it. And so I've taken the liberty to expand the character's profile if that's alright. (Conveniently enough I still have my psychopathology lecture notes)

I want to add, however, that this story in no way romanticizes mental illness! If anything, one may consider it an opportunity to reflect on the fact that so many people struggling with disorders do not receive the proper care for it, or only do so when it's too late. Furthermore a medical professional should never, ever behave like this and whatever is written here should stay in the realm of fiction!

Yandere! Patient x Psychiatrist! Reader

Featuring a patient that's pushing the boundaries of your work ethic and might even succeed.

Content/warnings: female reader, detailed mentions of mental disorder, violence, obsessive behavior, breach of professional conduct

You roll up your sleeve and check your watch. He should be here soon. Out of habit, you shuffle the papers for a quick case review, even though you already know all the details by heart. You carefully set aside the patient’s MMPI and WHODAS entry assessments, then your first interviews. Your eyes briefly rest upon the resulting report you’ve comprised: Schizophreniform Disorder (Provisional) with good prognostic features; Diagnostic criteria consisting of delusions, disorganized speech (frequent derailment with episodes of incoherence, echolalia) and comorbid catatonia. Responds well to antipsychotic (clozapine 25mg/12 h) with no imminent need for dosage increase. As it currently stands, he will be fit for proper incarceration in less than 6 months. Is it something you agree with? Not quite. You’ve presented your case many times and it has always been met with pitiful shrugs and dismissals.

The door opens and you fix your posture, sweeping the documents back into your drawer. “And? How are you feeling today?” You ask, flashing a professional, cordial smile as the assisting nurse leads the patient to his seat and prepares her leave. “My chest hurts.” The man answers in a low voice, glaring at the nurse. He taps his foot against the plush carpet, seemingly restless. “How bad would you rate it? Chest pain is a somewhat common side effect of your medication.” You retort, following the movements of the woman finally excusing herself and exiting the room. Once you’re alone, the man’s shoulders droop and he visibly relaxes. “It’s not that, you know it. When can I touch you again?” He pleads, despair twisting his features. You tense up at the words. “Behave yourself. It hasn’t been that long.”

It’s not something you’re particularly proud of. In fact, you might even call it one of your great shames in life. You’ve always been a textbook professional, perhaps even too strict according to your coworkers and most patients. Not even in your wildest dreams would you have dared to imagine you’d violate the code of ethics by falling in love with your patient. But something about his situation stirred your sense of justice. Surely one cannot be punished for protecting their loved ones. The only criminal in the equation, at least in your eyes, was that joke of a father and he had it coming. So you found yourself wrestling against a blooming protectiveness and favoritism towards the young man brought here last month.

What would have normally compelled you into action had therefore been silently swept under the rug. Or even worse, you secretly indulged in it. A patient showing signs of affection towards you would instantly be transferred to a different psychiatrist. Yet you couldn’t put away the letters written by this one. Erratic, crumpled notes of “I love you” written countless times, pencil dug so deep it tore into the sheet. Bizarre illustrations that looked almost threatening. His elaborate delusions before medication was introduced, where he’d detail in grand narratives how you were fated for each other and nothing would stop him from having you sooner or later. You do not know what forces possessed you into this addictive plunge, but you’ve come to enjoy his violent, frenzied confessions. So much, that during one of the unsupervised meetings you let yourself pushed into the sofa as his hands tugged at your body in rabid need. It was so out of character that you wondered if it truly happened, though the bite marks and scratches on your neck and chest proved otherwise.

“Are they going to send me to prison?” He changes the subject and stands up, walking towards your desk. “Most likely. What you have is the result of a traumatic event, not a lifelong condition. Sporadic episodes that can be kept under control with antipsychotics aren’t enough of a reason to keep you in the hospital.” You press your legs together nervously and glance at him. “Can’t you just say it’s no longer working?” He suggests, kneeling before you and placing a hand on your thigh. “You know I can’t lie on the report.” You really don’t like it when he manipulates you like this. “Ah, yes, because lying is worse than fucking your patient.” He scoffs, annoyed. “Don’t threaten me like that”, you say as you turn towards him, but you’re stopped by the rough grip of his hand over your cheeks. “I’m not threatening you, I’m threatening everyone else. Listen, (Y/N), I’m not fucking around. I don’t mind pretending to be crazy if I have to. Will the meds still be working if I steal a shaving razor and cut the nurse open?” You try to open your mouth, but his fingers are pressed into your skin, locking your jaw into place. “I’m not going to prison. I’m not. Then I’ll never see you again and that can’t happen. You know that.”

Eventually he releases his hold, allowing you to speak. "I understand. Then there's no choice but to arrange your escape." You sigh, defeated, and he raises his eyebrows. "Won't that get you in trouble?" You chuckle at his statement. "Either way I'll be in trouble. You said it yourself. Might as well quit before I have to stand in front of the ethics board and have my license revoked." You'd prefer to keep the last ounce of pride if possible.

He sits on the floor and you notice his trembling hands. "Nervous?" You ask. "No. Just really happy. I'm not a bad person and you were the only one here to see it. But God, (Y/N), I'd kill anyone if it was for your sake. I can't wait to hold you whenever I want." He gazes at you as a smile widens on his face.

#female reader #male yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #male yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere oc x reader #obsessive yandere #tw yandere

[surftrips]

HEADCANONS — FLIRTY ACADEMIC RIVALS w/ CORIOLANUS SNOW

you're not sure when the rivalry started, but for as long as you could remember, you were always sat next to coriolanus snow in class, whether by assignment or choice. neither of you actually hated the other, it was more a friendly competition born out of your strong feelings for each other that neither of you trusted yourselves with, so you resorted to teasing and playful mockery.

both of you care very much about your academics, snow on his way to win the plinth prize, and you, eager to impress your parents and secure a job in the capitol. when you put two highly ambitious and motivated students next to each other, it was no wonder you were always top of your classes. some people called you the power couple, but you denied the latter half of that term.

"where's your little boyfriend?" sejanus had asked one day. "how many times do i have to tell you, he's not my boyfriend!" you responded. "tell me then, why haven't either of you dated anyone?"

the easy answer to that question, and the one you always resorted to was that you simply had no time for dating right now. never mind the fact that you've been using that excuse for your whole life.

corio, on the other hand, never denied the dating rumors. not because there was any truth to them, but more so to annoy you. "corio, did you tell professor crane we were going to formal together?" "yes, what's wrong?" he feigned innocence. "what's wrong? you told him we were going together! as in boyfriend girlfriend!" "i still don't see the issue."

most days, he drove you crazy. and he probably wasn't even aware of his affect on you. shoulders touching when reading a textbook together, quickly pulling away his hand when your fingers went to turn the page at the same time, pretending not to be flustered on the rare occasion he gave you a compliment.

other times, it was nice to have him sat by your side. for example, the nights when you stayed up late studying often led to you dozing off in class, leaning on corio's shoulder until he gently nudged you off, "hey, sleepyhead. what time did you go to sleep?" he would tease.

the best classes were the ones you took with a professor that you both mutually hated— you could hardly control your laughter when he whispered a remark in your ear, or the shivers that he sent down your spine from being in such close proximity to you.

one time, he found you hiding in a corner of the library after receiving a particularly bad grade on a test. you had abruptly left him in the hallway, claiming that you had an "important phone call" to take, but of course, he knew you well enough to know that something was wrong and you needed space. thirty minutes later, he was pulling you off the floor and taking you out to ice cream.

"my girl," he said, wiping off your tear-stained cheeks. "what can i do to make you feel better?" you had wanted to kiss him right then and there, to resolve the tension between you two once and for all, but you didn't want your first kiss to be under these circumstances.

life in the capitol was not as glamorous as everyone else made it out to be. you faced an immense pressure to perform well, uphold the reputation of your family, and be successful, and most of the time you felt alone and exhausted. but coriolanus was always there for you, when things were good, and especially when things got bad.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus x reader

[mattybsgroupie]

mine | matt sturniolo

contents: cursing; fighting; (kinda) toxic relationship; handjob (m receiving); oral (f receiving); use of “y/n”; lowkey sub!matt

- ♡ -

as we arrived at his house, i slammed the door shut behind me. “can you stop being an asshole?” i yelled, getting closer to him.

“yes? if you stop acting like a fucking whore” matt said, raising his voice at me.

“shut up matthew” i was serious this time, and he could it see it in my eyes. “don’t act like you didn’t notice how every fucking girl there was hitting on you”.

matt rolled his eyes back, giving me a whole grin before shouting “you sat on his LAP!”

“he’s my friend!” i answered. “i know him longer than i’ve known you!”

“you’re my fucking girl!”, his loud voice filled the living room to the point it made me shrug, not being able to get a word out of my mouth.

i stayed there, quiet. my arms were crossed as i stared into his eyes — i could instantly tell he regretted saying that. matt was moving in circles, scratching his freshly shaved beard and cracking his knuckles before coming back to me.

“okay? you’re my girl y/n. you can’t do shit like that and expect me to be fine about it” he grabbed my face with both of his hands and stared back at me, talking in an angry, almost demanding tone. his touch, however, was still soft.

“no matthew, i’m not your fucking girl if you’re not gonna be my fucking guy. what the fuck was that scene for?” i put my hands over his and removed them.

“listen y/n, i can’t do this. i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry but it’s better if we go to sleep. i’m fucking tired and you’re drunk” matt never liked to sort things out during a heated moment. he needed some time alone to align his thoughts and finally being able to solve the problem.

“i’m not drunk, matt. i had a couple drinks with your brother, that’s all”.

“and that explains how you end up grinding over some guy’s lap?” he asked me again, and now i was the one who didn’t want to keep on fighting.

“you know what? you’re right. it’s better if we go to bed. but i’m gonna go back to my fucking bed, at my fucking house” i said as i walked out, not bothering looking at his face. “so have a good night by yourself matthew, you ruined the whole night”.

i stopped by the sidewalk, trying to put myself together as tears began to form in my eyes. not only i was angry and disappointed at matt, but i had no one to take me back home since he’s been the one doing this for the past year. on top of that, the weather had completely changed and i was fucking freezing.

i heard the door unlocking and his steps getting closer, but i didn’t dare looking back.

“y/n, what the fuck are you doing? come inside” matt asked and i realized he had snapped out of it already. his voice was tender and full of emotion.

“no, i’m calling an uber”.

“babe” low blow. matt knows how much i like it when he calls me pet names. “it’s late. please come, it’s getting fucking cold here”.

“good” i turned without thinking and finally saw his face again. just like me, he had red cheeks and eyes filled with tears. “you should freeze to death”.

“yeah, i’ll keep that in mind” he smiled. “y/n i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i didn’t say to those girls i had a girlfriend and i’m sorry i raised my voice at you. i know i shouldn’t have done that, can you please forgive me? please?” matt looked at me with puppy eyes. “you don’t have to do it right now but at least get inside. i’ll drop you off in the morning after you rest and we’ll fix things up. please, babe”.

i nodded my head, agreeing silently - i wasn’t gonna say a word to him. i got back to the house and quickly went upstairs, making myself comfortable in his big bed. matt didn’t follow me, and though i wouldn’t lock the door on him, he knew he was going to sleep on the couch.

- ♡ -

i glanced at the nightstand clock, 3AM. i couldn’t fall asleep without matt. i missed his smell, his touch, his warmth, the way he’d let me rest my head over his chest while caressing my back or the days where he’d give up acting tough and giving in to my touch, deeply asleep while i kept running my fingers through his curls.

i went downstairs. i had to - my heart was as heavy as my eyes.

i saw matt all curled up on the plain couch, not having a blanket or a pillow. he hadn’t even changed his clothes, still wearing the same grey jeans and black shirt he went out with earlier.

i instinctively got closer and lied down with him, trying my best to not wake matt up. just being around him like this made me let out a long breathe, finally being able to relax.

“hm? babe?” he murmured, too sleepy to actually look at me.

“cant sleep without you. shut up”

“c’m here” matt opened his arms, allowing me to snuggle into him “are you still mad? i love you. love you so much”

i loved him even more. gosh, how much i love him.

i tried to get even closer to him, glueing our bodies together as my hand rested on his thigh. i couldn’t help but kiss his jaw, playfully biting all over him. he giggled softly, melting into my touch as i kept trailing down his neck with kisses.

as i reached his sweet spot, i noticed matt’s breath had gotten slower and heavier. he didn’t say anything - in fact, i don’t think he even bothered opening his eyes - but didn’t complain as i deepened my pecks, slowing sucking onto his pale skin.

of course i was gonna give matt a hickey. if he says i’m his, then i’ll show he’s also mine.

i slowly moved my hands to his waistband, altering between tickling his lower belly and teasing his boxers.

“y/n… fuck” matt mumbled.

“hm? want me to stop?” i asked just to make sure.

“n-no, don’t. i’m… getting hard” he stared at his pants before giving me puppy eyes once again.

“are you gonna be a good boy and behave for once, matt?”

“uhum. yes yes i will” matt started speaking mindlessly, agreeing with anything i'd tell him to do.

“yeah? gonna stop acting like you’re a tough guy?”

“y-you know that im not that tough…” he whispered shyly before looking away.

“you’re right. you’re just a silly boy, aren’t you matthew?” no response. “answer me.”

“y/n, please”

“please what?”

“please let me touch you” he leaned in, trying to kiss my lips. i didn't let him go any further than a peck. “need you so bad”.

“let me take care of you first, hm?” i asked, eventually getting a grip of his bulge over his pants.

“yes babe, fuck” he nodded frantically, eager for me to get him off.

“don’t you think it’s funny?” i said, adjusting myself on the sofa so i could finally unbutton his jeans. “few hours ago you were man enough to call me a slut”. i put my hands inside matt’s pants, palming his hardened cock through his boxers. i could feel a wet spot building up, letting me know his pre-cum was already leaking. “and now you can’t even say what you want?” i teased.

“wanna be good for you” he whimpered as i removed his last piece of cloth, freeing his dick out. matt’s hips bucked into the air, begging to get some friction. “please, please, i’ll behave! i promise i’ll be your good boy”, he cried. poor thing.

i went back to kissing matt while wrapping my fingers around his length, pumping him at a slow pace. i could hear his whines and the small moans he tried to cover by biting his own lips. i placed my thumb at his tip, circling it and spreading the pre-cum down his cock.

matt had gone even quieter, left arm covering half of his face as if he was too embarrassed to admit how much he needed my touch.

soon enough, i had fastened my pace and tightened my grip, his voice finally coming out “i’m gonna cum”.

“did you get permission?”, i asked. he knew how things worked.

“f-fuck y/n, please. wanna cum so bad” matt whimpered once again, cheeks as red as his tip.

“well, you weren’t being a good boy today. do you really think you deserve it?”

“im sorry ah-” he moaned loudly “please, wanna cum. wanna cum for you” he kept repeating over and over, suddenly replacing the words with babbles full of lewd sounds. i could tell how hard he was trying to not release, worried he’d wouldn’t be a good boy anymore.

“go on, baby boy. make a mess for me” it took matt just a few seconds to sputter his cum all over my hand with a loud cry, hips jointing forward during his orgasm. i kept on softly palming his cock as he came back from his high, trying my best to not overstimulate him.

“you're SO fucking good” matt groaned, eyes still closed. “oh” he noticed i had my hand full of his release, “can i make it up to you?”

i nodded and matt grabbed his jeans to clean us up in the sloppiest way i've ever seen. he pulled his boxers back up and got off the couch, leaving me with furrowed eyebrows as i tried to understand whatever he was planning to do. he then took his shirt off so i could see all the purple spots i've left throughout his neck and collarbone, throwing it somewhere and kneeling in front of me. fuck.

matt placed his hands by the sides of my legs and decided to rest his face on my thighs, deeply starring at me with those blue eyes that would drive me insane. he then placed his fingers on my waistband, teasing me in the same way i had done earlier. it didn’t took long until he realized i wasn't wearing any panties and the sweaters i had on were, in fact, his.

“no panties and you don't want me calling you a slut?” he asked before licking his lips.

“matt, be a good boy” i said, reminding him of what had just happened.

“well” he slowly started removing my pants. “i think you should learn how to be a good girl as well”.

i was now fully exposed and matt couldn't shut up about it “you're so fucking wet”, he'd say while placing kisses on the insides of my thighs. as he got closer to my crotch and his kisses turned into love bites, i lost my sense of control - we had the same power over each other, each one of us letting go of any and all armors during intimate moments like this one.

i couldn't help but forcing my hips down on him, whining as i felt his heavy breathing against my clit. matt smiled and looked at me before giving one long lick from my hole back to my clit, just like a kitten. i gasped when he started to swirl his tongue on me and my hands instinctively went to his fluffy hair, holding onto him as if my life depended on it.

i was already on the verge of releasing - anything from him would make me come right on the spot. matt kept on scratching my thighs and occasionally holding my hips to stop me from moving around so much.

“fuck babe, your pussy is so fucking pretty” he said as he moved to my entrance, teasing me with the tip of his tongue. my dripping wet cunt made it easier for matt to get in, and he already knew i was getting close as my pussy throbbed over his face.

not a single word came out of my mouth, the living room being filled with my high pitched whimpers when matt placed his thumb over my clit and played with it - while still eating me out.

“wanna taste you” he almost begged. “wasn't i your good boy? shouldn't you cum in my mouth as a reward?” he started sucking my clit and when my eyes met his, i was thrown off the edge. my orgasm crashed down on me, making my legs tremble as i kept on moaning, matt slowing driving me through it.

i came back to my senses and found matt looking so satisfied, as if he actually had an entire meal - swollen, wet lips, messy hair and the biggest smile on his face. he came closer to my face and allowed me to have a taste of myself in a lewd kiss, both of us acknowledging our fight was over.

“i love you so much”, he whispered. “i love you even more” i said, pulling him back up to the sofa and tangling my legs around his waist, letting his body collapse onto mine as we went on our way to finally get some sleep.

- ♡ -

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matt x y/n #sub!matt #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo