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#being vulnerable is hard and i hold back as much as i can
luveline · 3 days
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i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 
“Do you know his name?” he asks. 
“No.” 
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 
“What happened?” 
“I told him no.” 
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 
“I think I want to quit.” 
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 
You can’t begrudge him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 
“It’s not your fault.” 
“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 
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cinnamonest · 2 days
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hii!! do you think any gnsn yandere would go for anal with the intention of making it very pleasant for darling? like, "I'm telling you, it can feel so good" and "I read about it" (<- that's definitely Haitham lol) and maybe "I know what I'm talking about"
Yessss he would! Alhaitham thinks himself The Expert™ and that any fears you have are silly and unfounded. He takes the matter very seriously and has actually done his research, which, while he can be very annoying at his pretentiousness and stubbornness about it, is actually reassuring, because he does actually know what he’s doing, makes sure he gets in at an angle that will still press against the sweet spots that make you feel good, and keeps his hand practically latched to your clit too.
He develops quite the fixation, actually. You know, you can make this a regular thing, some people get into making it a lifestyle, and the thought appeals to him quite a bit. So he can train you, keep toys inside your ass throughout the day to ensure that if he ever wants it, it’ll be easy to access without having to go through the process of stretching you out a lot each time. And eventually, he can set a day or two per week — or maybe a full week per month? — where any other hole is off-limits, ensuring you get mentally adjusted as well.
Also, the man has a specific little fantasy he intends to fulfill... that is, he's into the idea of switching holes while he's fucking you. Having you on your back and railing you hard and fast, letting the slick fluid pour out of you and drip off his cock as gravity makes it trail downward, coating your asshole too... then pulling out and flipping you over onto your stomach before sliding into your ass, lubed by the grool your body already made for him, feeling you stiffen and clench and gasp... let him live that out just once, and he can die a happy man... well, he thinks that, but you let that happen once, there's no way he can leave it at once.
Albedo has something very similar going on, perhaps an even more intense fixation, although for him it’s part of a much larger pool of kinks and turn-ons ranging from fairly normal to outright depraved, and you’re not quite sure where this compulsive need to ream your poor ass falls on that scale. He’s just not content until he feels like he owns every part of you, and the more vulnerable and sensitive a part of you is, the more satisfying it is to take it for himself.
Still, he at least knows what he’s doing, and he has a way of keeping you calm with how gentle-sounding his voice is. He can also make you various consumables that act as either aphrodisiacs or numbing agents and so on, anything that enhances the good while diminishing any discomfort as much as possible (unless he’s mad and wants you to have some discomfort, of course).
He gives you the I know what I'm doing line quite a bit, and assures you that if you just calm down and hold still, it'll feel good... and he ends up being right, at least to some degree, as he also manages to make you cum that way.
He in particular develops an obsession with trying to get you to cum just from anal stimulation and nothing more, and no matter how slow and gradual the process may be, he's quite determined and patient with training you to achieve that, and it'll be all that much more rewarding when he finally does get the desired result.
But also, he uses his anatomical knowledge against you, because he knows you’ll take whatever he says seriously, so he will do his best to convince you of the therapeutic and health benefits of letting him cum in your ass, and unfortunately he’s actually quite convincing…
Childe’s on the list too, except it is 100% a lie and he does NOT actually have the requisite knowledge, he just has a level of confidence that is directly inverse-correlated to his IQ and it will become your problem. He’s alarmingly uneducated on something that by definition necessitates a lot of know-how to do properly, so please be on guard or else he will just approach it the same way he does pussy — trying to shove it in all in one swift motion, not enough lube, goes way too fast and hard, etc… he still wants it to feel good and insists it will, he just doesn’t actually have any idea what he’s talking about, so be wary and force him to slow down lest you suffer for not doing so.
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bunnychargebolt · 2 months
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Im going to give my parents shaken baby syndroms Im- hhhhhhhh vent :3 (gonna put any warning stuffs in tags)
I am so just- am eepy. I want to sleep. It is fucking 2:30 in the morning. But I cannot! Because I am hungry! And my body is fucking not doing good! And I can not do anything about it because I do not have food.
But for whatever reason!! My mother!! Who eats the least in this household!! Continually has her stuff stocked!! She fucking- eats like two of the jif to go cups of peanut butter for lunch. And that is like- her lunch. And that just fucking works for her. Which is because she got fucking weight loss surgery.
Im
Hhhhhhhhhhhh
I do not have enough food. And honestly I probably havent had enough food in months. Because instead of eating i sleep. Because my body shuts down. And I am trying *so hard* to get across to my parents that I need food. I am- hhhhh honestly prolly qualifying as anorexic speaking strictly on eating patterns. Which ik for sure my mom is.
And also my irl friend keeps talking about hes gonna starve himself. And im- hhhhh. Theres so many fucking tjings going on with him and theyre bad and I havent talked about them and im going to fucking lose my mind. But thats not even what im focused on right now.
I dont know if i can continue physical therapy. Because it is not guaranteed that i have food. And my parents say that money is tight. But my mother is constantly getting a bunch of stuff. And we have so much shit. And im- i camt handle all of this.
I cant ask for anything without being told that im asking for a lot. My mom ordered in dinner for me and my brother the other night bc she got a thing through work and i asked for what I know would be enough for me and I got told that thats too expensive. Which i understand. The cost of shit is fucking insane. But there is so much fucking focus on cost and portion size and “oh tjat costs too much” “oh youre asking for a lot” “dont forget that this is what a portion size” and even fucking talk of like calories and checking even though i ask for that to not happen.
People tell me to take some of their food because they have plenty and I get it but Im fucking terrified. My mom had locked up a shit ton of food when i was a kid including freezers. Which to this day still have the locks by them. And if im caught she wont hesitate to do it again. I cant go through that again.
I know I cant really get out. Im genuinely scared of my parents. I- cant. I cant get out. I cant leave stuff. Im terrified. Fuck i don’t remember ever not being scared of my mom in some capacity. And my dads way more passive but sometimes he yells and I just- cant do it. And i hate that what they do works. I get shoved into being this fucking doormat of a person.
Honestly I dont think I ever really got to be a person. I still dont super feel like one. I dont have complete control over myself. I dont feel like i have free will. Which sucks. I wanma be my own person. I wanna learn what itd feel like to be able to be myself for even a day. Im- just lost a lot of the time.
The only good thing I know for sure is coming out of this is that I know my depression medication works. Im pretty sure most of my issues with functioning are from malnutrition issues. And im def not suicidal or having thoughts of sh which is really nice!! Plus I know I have a very supportive group of friends online that I love very much
Wuheiwhe speaking of friends- angy about irl friend. He fucking- complained to me that he gets upset when i vent about shit at home cause hes gonna get kicked out when he turns 18. Which likw- i get it. The threat of being homeless is horrible. But if your thought process while you have fucking unwatched access to a credit card and can essentially have whatever the fuck you want while im saying i dont fucking have food at home is “well at least you have a home” IS FUCKING INSANE. Especially because you have already gathered almost $1000 in cash amd still have like 11 months to figure shit out. Your future situation sucks but that should not take away empathy for my current situation??? Where i am??? Not getting fed enough???
I understand that your homelife is shit and your family is fucked. However, you almost never get told no. Which is really fucking obvious!!! Because you wont take any of my nos for an answer!!! And tbh youre kinda financially abusive!!! I hear how you talk to your bf which is fucking insane and i hate it. And when you talk about how you pay for gas when im using my parents cars and they need to be filled and i say were driving around too much and using a lot of gas you go “well its my gas” No!! It isnt!! That is not how that works!! And just because you pay for the fucking gas WHEN YOU HAVE ME DRIVING FUCKING ALL OVER THE PLACE BECAUSE I LITERALLY CANNOT GWT YOU TO UNDERSTAND IM SAYING NO does not kean you pay for the rest of the fucking car!!! You also!! Make jokes about taking back gifts!! Because you paid for them!! Which is shitty as fuck!! And its not even your fucking koney its your grandmas money and you got fucking pissed and bitchy when Ive mentioned that when talking about it being different when one of our friends took advantage of us for money because you are just handed it and the stuff i had i workwd for, in a job that started the decline of my physical wellbeing. Its not the same fucking thing.
Im
Shaking. I want to scream. I cant. Handle everything. I dont want to have to be here and dealing with all of this.
And anothwr fucking tjing about ky friend- he gets pissy when me or his boyfriend accidentally leave garbage in his room. Which i get a little but then he doesnt take care of it either!! And then he has shit there all the time!! Including multiple unfinished starbucks drinks that have grown mold!!! Why do you keep getting the biggest fucking size when you know damn well you wont drink it.
And you keep fucking- i cant play therapist for you. You cannot constantly come crying to le about your bf and talking about how you should break up with him AND THEN GET KAD AT ME FOR SUGGESTING YOU BREAK UP WITH HIM
Im not- i cant. Im
Im violently angry. And i want to sleep. Amd i wamt to be able to have food. And i want my oarents to love me and understand me. Or even fucking- to try. At all. I want my physical wellbeing to matter. But it doesnt. In multiple different ways. And its all just so bad all the time and i try and tune it out but it slips through.
Im having trouble remember things. Its bad. Im- i cant use my brain as well as i know i should be able to. Im- idk. I just cant fucking deal with this. Except im still going to. Im complaining but theres mot kuch i can change.
I hate feeling like im breaking all the time. I want to be able to be loved and be a person and have a home!!! I have a roof over my head. And i appreciate that so much. But this is absolutely not a home. And its very much not welcoming for me. And I just- I perpetually have the feeling of “i want to go home” with no home to go to. And its been like that for most of my life. And I just- really want to have a home.
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pepprs · 7 months
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genuinely so angry and scared im shaking. how many other times this week this month this year have i been exposed without knowing it. do people even tell each other anymore. it’s just so grim. it’s so fucking grim
#purrs#delete later#covid19#i am fighting for my fucking life every day to stay safe and to keep the people around me some of whom are disabled / chronically ill /#immunocompromised / medically vulnerable safe. i am fucking fighting for my life. it’s already hard that i am usually one of two people in#any given room still wearing a mask let alone an n95 mask. hard and bad enough that we get looks for wearing masks and people think im crazy#for my life still being on hold and for my family still basically never going anywhere. ITS FUCKING WORSE that we are still very much in the#throes of all of it and we are in constant physical and quite frankly EXISTENTIAL danger not only of getting sick / becoming (more)#disabled / literally fucking dying but also returning to the absolute hell of lockdown which while important was psychologically damaging in#ways that are difficult to even articulate. like not only have we as a society decided to not give a shit about unpacking all of that and#healing from the trauma and assuming everyone went through the same thing when we very much did not and to just send everybody back to#school and work because 🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑capitalism🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑 but we have ALSO decided to pretend like the freakish unceasing danger just doesn’t exist#anymore and to get rid of every tool we had available to keep us safe or at minimum make people have to pay exorbitant amounts of money to#access them because 🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑capitalism🤑🤑🤑🤑🤑 !!!!!!! im TIRED. im so fucking tired of it. i am so fucking exhausted and angry and scared. and i#HAVE the luxury and privilege of being able to afford n95 masks and covid tests and to be able to work a job that i can do remotely if i#need to and to not be disabled or immunocompromised. what makes me fucking furious is we decided to throw all the people who don’t have#that access or privilege under the fucking bus and forget about them lol. but what do you expect from a country rotten to its core the way#it is lol. im fucking despondent. why are we living in an incinerator.#* the lockdown(s) werent just important they were necessary. and arguably we should have another one even though if we do i genuinely fear#for my mental health both during and afterwards and quite frankly before. im tired. i am grateful for the life i live which has resulted in#part from the different things that have happened because of the pandemic but i also so desperately wish this never happened and every day I#think about what life would be like if it hadn’t happened. the grief of it all is unspeakably big.
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ozlices · 7 months
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i wish i could be like "people with victim complexes dni" because at this point it's just infuriating how often we gotta deal with that kinda shit when we bust our ass to remain polite and civil as we're actively invalidated and treated like shit while we're openly unstable and dealing with the darkest year of our life. needless headache, man.
#mine#people really put a needless extra layer of pressure & strain on us#& we literally don't even fucking retaliate. we just VERY POLITELY say that it's hurtful to pull that crap on us#when we're clearly in a very bad vulnerable way. & then they turn around & demonize us#& go so ridiculously far like... bruh. i cant anymore.#idk how much longer anyone else in the system is gonna be able to keep holding me back when this has happened to us REPEATEDLY too damn muc#like fuck watching my host go through such brutal depression & having it fueled for no fucking reason i wanna start biting people#we literally fucking say PLEASE and THANK YOU and are so fucking stupidly polite when it is frankly not even deserved#but we're so paranoid abt this exact shit happening and it still does any fucking way like holy shit#talk about not fucking being able to win no matter what.#i need people with victim complexes to just fuck off and leave us alone because i will not be able to keep holding back#like if it gets to a point where it starts triggering me out so fucking be it im not holding back anymore. yall can eat my shit.#these people literally watch a mentally unstable person absolutely wail in agony then make their pain about them#and how we aren't doing enough FOR THEM during such a hard time.#but then also turn around and say that if we acknowledge we're being hurt by their behavior WE'RE the one#who has a victim complex and makes everything about us like oh my god. kindly get over yourself and fuck off fuck you fucking bullshit FUCK#ANYWAY#IDEK WHAT WE'RE GONNA DO WITH OURSELVES TODAY TO ENSURE LUNS DOESNT FRONT IM ANGRY#AND I HAVE TO CALL IN OUR MEDS. GODDAMMIT BEING A PERSON BULLSHIT
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incognit0slut · 2 months
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Beyond the limit
>> Part two: the breaking point
Spencer is hesitant when you ask him to be rough, but when he realizes how much you enjoy it, he wonders just how far he can push your limit.
warnings: (MDNI, 18+) dom spence, guided/mutual masturbation, dirty talk, degradation (use of slut), orgasm control, hairpulling, choking, overstimulation, creampie, cumplay, squirting, rough sex, so many body fluids
a/n: 4k words for 4k followers! Thank you all so much, consider this as a token of my appreciation. This one is for you, I love you all ♡
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Spencer considered himself as someone with a strong sense of self-control... until he found himself on top of you, right between your legs. How could he resist when your body felt so soft against his? When all his restraint seemed to vanish into thin air?
He had you pinned against the bed, his palms tracing your hips before moving to your breast. You moaned out his name as your nipples hardened against the thin material of your shirt—his shirt, to be exact. After all, it was how it all started.
The moment he was greeted by the view of your perfect ass when he came home from work, barely covered by his shirt you were wearing, something in him snapped. You looked so damn good, so damn tempting, practically begging to be touched.
It didn’t take long for him to discard his bag onto the floor before scooping you in his arms. You simply giggled, amused at his sudden urgency yet eagerly welcoming it as he led you into your shared bedroom.
Now he was right between your thighs, pressing his hard erection right against your panties. You could feel yourself getting wet by the friction and you found yourself parting your legs even further, grinding your hips along with his as his mouth continued to suck on the spot right below your ear.
Anytime you whimpered, he gripped you tighter, and your shaky hands clutched onto button-down shirt. There was something about him still dressed in his work clothes while you were nearly half-naked, his shirt bunched around your waist, leaving your lower half exposed. And you liked it. It made you feel vulnerable being pressed under him like this, sparking a strange desire to submit to him completely.
And now you craved more. You wanted to surrender to him, to let him take the lead. But to your dismay, his movements suddenly slowed down, leaving you momentarily confused because you could feel the way he was holding back. His hands were trembling against your body as if he was consciously avoiding being rough.
You slid your hands up to his chest, lightly pushing him away and he quickly drew back. His brows furrowed as he gazed down at you. "What is it? Did I do something wrong?"
Shaking your head, you reassured him. "No," you replied softly. "But... you don't have to hold yourself back for my sake, you know.”
His eyes narrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"
You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "I mean, I know you're trying to be careful, but... I want you to take control, without holding back. I want... more.”
A flicker of surprise crossed his features. "You want me to... be rough?" he asked cautiously.
You nodded, a flush creeping up your cheeks. "I do."
"But I- I don't want to hurt you."
You reached out, cupping his cheek tenderly. "I trust you, Spence. I trust us. And I want you to trust yourself too."
His expression softened under your touch. You took it as enough of a sign to push forward as your thumb swept back and forth across his jaw.
"If it's too much I'll tell you," you assured him.
He searched your eyes for a moment, uncertainty flickering within his gaze. "What if I hurt you?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
You bit your lip, studying his face for a moment before responding. "I think I'll like it if you do," you confessed, your cheeks flushing slightly. "But we don't have to do anything crazy you're not comfortable with. We don't necessarily have to do something you don't want to."
Spencer swallowed hard, processing your words. "So what do you want then?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your hand slid up the length of his jaw until your fingers slipped into his hair. Very carefully you gripped a handful of his curly strands in your fist. "Do whatever you want, baby," you answered. "Mark my skin. Pull my hair. Talk me through it."
You noticed the way his lips twitched at your words and you smiled.
"Fuck me hard," you demanded boldly.
His breath hitched as he searched your eyes. He definitely wanted to do those things, too. When he finally relaxed into your touch, a rush of anticipation surged through you, your heart beating rapidly.
"Are you sure?" he asked slowly.
You nodded, gripping his hair a bit harder, enjoying the way his breathing grew shallower. "Please," you whispered, your voice filled with desire.
With a barely audible groan, Spencer gave in to your request, his resolve melting away as his lips crashed against yours. Your pulse sped up excitedly in your chest in response—this was exactly what you wanted. That pure, raw desire that was too strong for him to contain. When he finally pulled away, he was breathing even heavier now, his shoulders heaving with each audible inhale.
"If we're going to do this, we'll do it my way," he declared firmly. "You will listen to me, understood?"
You nodded, feeling a shiver of anticipation run down your spine at the commanding tone of his voice. "Yes," you replied breathlessly.
And just when you thought he was about to delve into another kiss, he surprised you by pulling away. He sat back, his eyes narrowing as he focused on you. "Sit up and lean back on the pillow," he commanded.
Your heart raced as you complied, eagerly following his lead.
"Take off the shirt... leave your panties on."
You followed, leaning forward, your fingers grabbing the hem of your shirt before pulling it off your body, revealing your soft-looking skin to his eyes. His predatory gaze was locked on your breasts, noticing the way your nipples hardened as the cold air brushed your skin. When you leaned back again, he dragged the tips of his fingers up your thighs, gripping your waist for a moment before another demand left his lips.
"Spread your pretty legs," his soothing voice told you, staring intently between your thighs. You did as you were told, parting your knees, your feet propped up on the bed as you waited with bated breath for his next instruction, feeling yourself throb behind the drenched fabric.
"Now touch yourself." You gulped at his tone, sliding your fingers inside your panties. He suddenly called out your name in a warning, his voice alone stopping your hand in its tracks. "Over your panties, I'll tell you when to touch yourself directly."
You nodded, letting your fingers hover over the fabric of your panties. You let out a gasp when you felt how drenched you were before you found your clit. You were hyperaware of every movement you were making, you realized, and it turned you on way more than it should. You choked on your next moan, squeezing your eyes shut as felt the sensation growing along your body.
You suddenly felt a hand gripping your jaw and you quickly opened your eyes, greeted by him staring down at you. "Keep your eyes on me."
There was nothing else for you to do but to oblige. Your fingers continued to press down your clit, swirling around the sensitive bud desperately as he released his hold on your jaw before trailing down your chest, teasing your aching nipples. You whimpered and watched as his eyes traveled down your body.
Spencer hungrily took in the way your legs were spread apart before him, the way you were touching yourself so eagerly. Your fingers moved rapidly over your panties, the material now too drenched as it slipped between your folds every time you moved. Your pussy was barely covered and he could see your arousal dripping down your legs.
"Look at you," he mused, his hand traveling down your body, resting slightly at the inner part of your thigh. "You like putting on a little show, don't you?"
Your breaths came out in shallow, eager gasps, but when you attempted to increase your pace, he quickly shook his head. "Slower. We don't want to rush."
You complied, adjusting your movements to match his pace, and he rewarded you with a smile. "That's it. Nice and slow," he praised, his gaze locked on yours with intensity.
Through hooded eyes, you watched as he began to undress, each deliberate movement teasingly slow. His tie came first, followed by his shirt which he discarded carelessly onto the floor. His pants followed suit, and when he was completely naked, your eyes hungrily drank in the sight of his exposed body.
Your fingers on your own body slowed down as you took in the sight before you, the way he slowly gripped the base of his cock before squeezing it hard.
"Don't you stop, I didn't tell you to stop," he reminded you, his voice firm.
With a sharp inhale, you resumed your movements, the urgency returning as you focused on pleasuring yourself under his watchful gaze. Then as if to taunt you, he began pumping his length slow and steady as your eyes focused in on the motions.
"S-Spence," you whined, pushing your hips faster against your hand, trying to keep your rhythm in check though the sight of him pleasuring himself had you so weak in the moment. "I- I wanna take my panties off."
He gripped his cock tighter, working his fist quicker along the length as his breaths deepened. "Yeah? You wanna see how wet you are?"
His words sent a surge of warmth through your body, spreading from between your thighs to your cheeks as your fingers quickened in pace and your legs spread further for him to see. "Yes-yes- please," you begged.
"Such a desperate slut," he muttered. His crude words shouldn't have brought you pleasure, but they did, and your tight walls clenched around nothing. He noticed the effect it had on you and smiled. "You liked that, huh? You liked being called a slut?"
You gulped, your fingers moving faster. "Y-Yes."
He simply hummed in response, snaking his hands between you, finally slipping off your panties down your legs. His fingers then gripped the soft plush of your thigh, spreading you open for him, exposing your cunt to the open air as he massaged soothing shapes into your skin.
He sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, taking in the mess between your legs. His gaze traveled your stomach, up to your perky breasts, before meeting your half-lidded eyes. He then slowly took your hand and your jaw slacked open when he abruptly sucked your fingers into his mouth.
His tongue felt hot, searingly so, as he laves over the pads of your middle and ring fingers, then dipped between them to caress your knuckles down to where they meet. A wave of heat traveled through you as he held your gaze, licking off your fingers one last time before guiding them back between your thighs.
"Keep going," he instructed, and you wasted no time in rubbing your clit feverishly. Your face twisted with pleasure, brow wrinkled, body tense, and each circle around your sensitive flesh brought you closer to the edge. The bedroom was filled with the sounds of crisp, rustling sheets underneath you and the slick motions of your fingers roaming your folds.
"Do you hear that? You're getting so loud. So wet," he gritted out. His eyes flickered up to your face, observing the delicate scrunch of your nose and your parted lips. "You're close, aren't you?"
You looked over to him. The view of his hand gripping his cock drew you so close to the edge you were balancing on, all the while attempting to feign control to give him the show he requested.
"Y- Yes," you admitted breathlessly, your body trembling with need.
He hummed a reply, soothing your thigh with his other hand. "Be a good girl and beg for it."
A choked whine escaped your lips.
"P-Please, let me come," you pleaded, the desperation evident in your voice as you sought his permission to release the tension coiling in your stomach.
"Ask nicely," he said, his tone firm yet encouraging. "Can I what?"
"Can I... I-I come?" you stammered, your eyes fluttering close, fingers moving rapidly on your clit.
"Look at me. Ask again."
Your eyes flickered open, meeting his intense gaze. "Can I-I come?" you begged, the desperation in your voice echoing your urgent desire.
"I can't hear you."
A moan ripped out of you, your body shaking uncontrollably under his gaze. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes as you struggled to hold on. "P-Please," you pleaded, your voice trembling with need. "Please let me come, I-I can't hold on much longer..."
"Louder," he demanded, his voice cutting through the haze of your desire, and that was when everything snapped. It was no longer a plea; instead, you were babbling incoherent words, unable to contain the overwhelming need coursing through your body.
"I-I'm s-sorry, I-I can't—" you cried, your voice strained with the effort of holding back.
But it was too late. Your resolve shattered, overwhelmed by the intensity of your desire. With a tear falling down your cheek, you locked eyes with him desperately as your climax crashed over you, consuming you entirely in its wave of ecstasy. It crept up on you, a gentle crescendo that abruptly peaked before slamming right into you.
Something in him snapped. Spencer never imagined he would enjoy having this much control over your body, but in this moment, he did. It was twisted, and although a hint of remorse flickered within him, his desire overpowered any sense of guilt.
Even as your body trembled uncontrollably from the intensity of your orgasm, he acted on impulse, flipping you over to lie on your stomach. The shift in position only fueled his desire further, igniting a primal need to dominate and possess you completely.
A moment later his hand came down on your ass with a sharp smack that drew a gasp out of you. He then crawled over you as his knees landed on either side of your thighs, the mattress bowing under his weight. Both of his hands dropped roughly down onto your ass, kneading the soft flesh.
You felt him lining his cock up with your entrance, your eyes closing in anticipation of him filling you. And then he plunged himself into you in one swift, sharp thrust which had your head dropping down into your pillow, burying your face in it as you tried to muffle the cry of pleasure that flew out of you.
He began pumping into you, his pace was slow at first, long strokes of drawing his cock out and back in earning quiet whimpers from you against the pillow. One of his hands released your hip before you felt him grabbing a fistful of your hair, just at the base of your skull, and sharply pulling.
"Stop burying yourself," he grunted. "Let me hear those pretty sounds."
You let out a moan, body shaking with every thrust of his hips, the room spinning as he picked up his pace. You felt the slow withdrawal of his cock as his hips drew back from you, but you weren't prepared for the way he rammed himself swiftly forward into you seconds after while tightening his grip on your hair.
A high-pitched, breathy noise of pleasure tore out of you at the feel of it. Encouraged, he repeated the gesture, the tug on your hair even rougher. You moaned loudly in response, your hips beginning to eagerly press backward into him as he brutally fucked you into the mattress.
"That's my girl," he praised. "Just like that, let me hear how good my cock makes you feel."
Your eyelids grew heavy under the weight of his words, your mouth going slack. Spencer was as loud as you as he repeatedly buried his cock in you over and over again. It didn't take long before his vicious thrusts had your eyes rolling back behind closed lids, your mind going entirely blank to everything but this very moment.
He then lowered onto his left forearm as his front molded over your back. The hard, solid feel of him behind you had you pressing back up into him, teeth gritting together as his cock buried itself somehow further inside of you. He released his grip on your hair, his hand swiftly moving to encircle your throat.
A moan escaped your lips as you felt the slight pressure of his grip, a surge of arousal coursing through you. His hand slid up further, encircling the bottom of your jaw as he carefully pulled your head backward, drawing it towards his shoulder until his mouth was beside your ear.
"Is this what you wanted?" Your breath hitched at his proximity, the heat of his body searing against your back as you struggled to form a coherent response. You could only manage a breathless nod in response.
"Let's see how far I can ruin you," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that sent a thrill through you despite the underlying threat in his words.
As his grip on your throat tightened ever so slightly, you couldn't suppress the moan that escaped your lips, surrendering completely as he picked up his pace, his hips rocking more rapidly into you. You were panting hard, your head tilted back against his shoulder.
His lips pressed onto the sensitive spot just between your shoulder and your neck, sucking on the skin while he mercilessly fucked you, his sweat-slicked body still flush to the back of you as he continued his fast, relentless pace. You were vaguely aware of his ragged, drawn-out groan and you could tell he was close.
It was evident in the way he was starting to lose control, his grip tightening around your throat as his breath grew hot and heavy against you. He was on the brink of spiraling, and you welcomed it, giving yourself over completely to please him.
"T-That's it, baby," you moaned. "You fuck me so good."
It was enough to make him come undone. He released inside of you, panting and huffing as he gave into the bliss. His motions slowed but he continued spilling inside your drenched walls, sweat beading against his forehead, lips parted, and face flushed. You squeezed yourself around him just to hear him suck in a sharp breath, gulping and exhaling with his brow wrinkled before he pulled out.
But when you thought he was done with you, he flipped you onto your back again. You were so wonderfully disheveled, your cunt clenching around nothing, gleaming with your arousal and his own release. He ran his fingers over your outer lips, spreading you open to have a better view of the white liquid trickling down your ass. He was quick to collect it with his fingers, tracing it up your folds so he could messily rub it over your clit.
"S-Spence..."
Spencer was known for his aversion to getting dirty, yet he didn't mind the mess he made between your legs. "You should see yourself," he muttered. "You're so pretty like this."
And then to your surprise, he positioned the tip of his cock right at your entrance again. You gasped, prompting yourself on your elbows as you looked down between your legs, wondering how on earth he was still so hard. Then a moan left your lips as you watched him slowly sinking into you again.
"Look at how I'm stretching you," he murmured, pushing his hips further. Both of your eyes were locked on the way your pussy stretched so wide around his girth. His previous release slipped back inside you every time his cock disappeared into your wet cunt, white cream coating around his length.
He moaned when your walls clenched around him, his eyes flickering between your face and the way his cock was stretching you. Spencer should have stopped. You were both too tired and too sensitive to continue further. Even his body ached with exhaustion, but he couldn't stop himself from thrusting forward as your walls swallowed his cock eagerly, practically begging for more.
The rational part of his brain urged him to pause, but the primal, carnal desire within him overrode any sense of restraint. Ignoring the way your body shook with exhaustion and the tension in his own muscles, he focused solely on the intense heat between your legs. So he continued to fuck you.
He was fucking you to the point where you couldn't even moan anymore, your voice caught in your throat with each thrust. He was fucking you so good there were tears in your eyes but you couldn't whimper or blink, you were just staring up at him, wordless and in awe, nails digging in his arms while your knees brushed up close to your shoulders.
He was fucking you roughly, dipping down every so often to press his lips to yours, the times he was not whispering encouragement, telling you how pretty you look, how wet you were, how much of a slut you were, and good you felt wrapped around him. And you could feel it, you could feel how good you were as your walls clamped down, sucking him in.
He thrust into you ruthlessly, consumed by a primal need to push you to your limits, to explore just how much you could take of him. Then when you felt that coil spreading along your limbs, you finally came without saying a word. But he didn't stop, continuing to fuck you into your next orgasm, and even when the sensation began to feel too overwhelming, he abused your clit with his thumb.
That was when everything blurred. The overwhelming pleasure finally consumed you entirely, rendering rational thought as a surge of liquid gushed out between your legs. He moaned in surprise at the sensation, his desire only fueled further by your response.
"Do that again," he begged, his voice husky with need as he continued to roll his hips into you. And you did, another wave of pleasure crashing over you as you drenched everything around you—his body, the sheets, every surface within reach. He moaned again, acutely aware of the mess you created.
Your grip on him slowly loosened and a pang of guilt hit him as he realized your body was already exhausted. Yet he couldn't resist the urge to use you once more. Your silence urged him to continue, thrusting into you relentlessly, your slicked-sweat skin sliding against his as he chased his second orgasm of the night.
He finally came with a grunt, his hips pumping into you with desperation, once, twice, before finally stilling. You cried out at the sensation, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all—the quickening of his breath, the hard grip of his hand on your skin, the throbbing ache between your legs.
Your vision suddenly became a hazy blur, and you gasped for breath, struggling to anchor yourself amidst the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. Despite your shaking form, Spencer managed to pull you into his embrace.
“I-I got you," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of emotions as the rush of dominance that had driven him moments ago was replaced by a wave of panic. He continued to hold you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively as he whispered soothing words into your ear.
You focused on controlling your breathing, inhaling and exhaling slowly as you sought to regain your composure. Gradually, the haze began to lift, and after a moment passed, you found yourself able to see clearly once again. Your eyes traveled to him, and with a tired and sleepy smile, you leaned into his touch.
Spencer released a breath he wasn't aware of holding. "We are never doing that again."
"What? Why?" you asked, confusion evident in your voice.
"You scared me!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with both relief and exasperation. "What if you passed out? What if I had to take you to the hospital and—and explain that—"
"That I passed out because your dick was too good?"
He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You're impossible," he teased, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You grinned up at him, feeling a warmth spread through you at his affectionate gesture. "But you love me anyway."
His smile softened as he gazed down at you. "I do."
"And I love you," you assured him. "Don't worry, I'm alright. And be honest with me, you seriously don't want to do that again? Wasn't that hot?"
His cheeks flushed slightly at your question, and he hesitated for a moment before meeting your gaze. "It was..." he began, his voice trailing off as he searched for the right words. "Intense," he finally admitted, a hint of uncertainty in his tone. "But maybe we should take it slow next time."
"Spencer, you were the one that kept going."
He gave you a sheepish smile. "I guess I got carried away a little," he admitted, a touch of embarrassment coloring his tone.
“A little?”
“Fine, more than a little,” he confessed. “But you didn't stop me either."
"That's because I was enjoying myself."
His embarrassment faded into amusement. "You're going to be the death of me one day, you know that?"
You grinned playfully at his remark. "Only if you're lucky," you teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.
Spencer chuckled, shaking his head fondly as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. He studied you, taking in the warmth in your eyes and the happy but serene smile that graced your lips as a surge of affection washed over him. "Then I must be the luckiest man alive."
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euthymiya · 11 days
Text
“i wanna ruin our friendship!” ft. wriothesley, neuvillette, alhaitham, and kamisato ayato
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in which genshin men decide being friends is not enough. why be friends when you could clearly be so much better as lovers? part two of “we’re just friends, but…” (<- read part one for better understanding of each)
contains: female reader (use of miss, milady/my lady, lovely lady, and madame) ; fluff (slight hints of angst but all happy endings) ; confessions, friends to lovers, wriothesley: implied harassment of reader by an inmate, reader is a doctor at the fortress, angry and possessive wriothesley, jealousy ; neuvillette: reader works at the palais, melusine features, neuvillette is implied to be emotional and make it rain ; alhaitham: mentions of drinking alcohol (alhaitham), vulnerable alhaitham, reader can cook ; ayato: slightly insecure reader, mentions of reader being in a lower class than ayato
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WRIOTHESLEY
wriothesley is not a possessive man, despite his feelings for you.
he’s long accepted that somewhere between frequent visits to you in the infirmary and occasional lunches together as fellow colleagues at the fortress, he’s fallen hopelessly hard for you. how could he not, when you’re so gentle-natured, smart, and unfairly pretty?
but still, wriothesley is not a possessive man. when men praise you to the archons and admire your unearthly beautiful smile, he is not possessive. when he grumpily watches your fingers brush against bare chests of the wounded after pankration matches, he is not possessive. when you shyly thank an inmate who rushes to hold a door open for you, he is not possessive.
but even wriothesley has his limits. and they happen to snap over the edge today—because now, as a man corners you against the wall, pestering you until distress is clear on your face, wriothesley feels possessive.
it’s a shameful feeling, but it’s one he can’t help. he’s tolerated many things, enough of them that make him wash down the bitter taste of jealousy with the most soothing tea he can find in his collection. but this? this is beyond the patience of even a kind warden such as himself.
you, whether you or anyone else in this fortress knows it, are his to protect.
so he walks up, fisting the inmate’s shirt and lifting him up to drag away from you, jaw tight and locked as he asks lowly, “is there a problem? if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were giving this lovely lady here some trouble.”
“y-your grace,” the man, to his credit, has a good mind to look remorseful, eyeing you nervously for a moment before rapidly shaking his head. “n-no, i was just…i was just askin’ her if she’d like some help findin’ her way is all. you know the fortress can be confusin’ ’n such.”
the inmate trails off, nervously chuckling as he quivers in the warden’s unforgiving hold.
wriothesley glances at you, raising an unconvinced eyebrow as he asks, “and do you need any help finding your way, miss?”
“no,” you shake your head, voice a bare whisper.
his jaw tightens further, glancing back at the man before he snarls lowly, “then you leave her alone. don’t let me catch you bothering her again, understood?”
“y-yes, your grace!”
wriothesley releases the man’s shirt, crumpled from his iron grip as he stares, eyes narrowed—threatening, even, as he waits for the brave soul (for anyone who bothers you where he’s in charge is the bravest of all souls) to leave. not one moment is wasted before you watch the inmate scramble away, leaving you alone with a tense, disgruntled duke in your hands.
“thank you,” you whisper, “i’m not sure how much longer he’d have bothered me if you hadn’t shown up.”
“anyone else ever try that before?” he seethes. you’ve never seen him so angry before—something about it feels almost personal.
you shake your head, stepping away from the wall as you walk over to him. “no, wriothesley,” you murmur, “no one gives me a hard time. this was a first.”
“let me know if anyone bothers you,” he grunts, fist still clenched even with no shirt to hold like earlier. “i’ll take care of it.”
you eye the way it’s tightly curled, knuckles almost ghostly white from the pressure before you gently grab his hand, working his fingers loose from his tight grip and rubbing a soothing thumb over the crescent mark from his nails along his palm.
“of course,” you smile softly, “though, i’m sure word will spread quickly that the warden doesn’t appreciate his doctor being bothered by persistent men. i don’t think there will be any repeats of this incident.”
he should feel ashamed.
you think so highly of him—defaulting to believing he’d saved you because he was only worried for your wellbeing, and not because it burned him alive to see a man so close to you, a man who desired you just as much as he did and had stooped to such unchivalrous methods to have you.
faintly, he’s aware that your hand is still grasping his, still rubbing a thumb over the angry, red marks along his palm as you study him carefully. he’s sure there’s not much he hides in his expression—you must be reading him like an open book. he can’t bring himself to care, however, not when the sight of someone else pinning you to a wall and towering over you is still so fresh in his head.
“something on your mind, your grace?” you ask, leaning closer.
perhaps, if he was a stronger man, one with more firm principles, he’d know to pull away and give you your space. but you lean closer, and he’s weak to his own desires, so he takes it as an invitation to lean closer himself.
“yes,” he admits, “i…i’m afraid i had less than honorable intentions when stepping in.”
“oh?” you raise a brow, looking at him in fond amusement. maybe you already know, he thinks, if your lack of surprise tells him anything. “enlighten me, then. what were your intentions?”
“to make sure no man comes close to you,” he mumbles, leaning closer while you do the same, your noses just barely brushing as your breath all but mingles.
“why?” you ask. it almost sounds like a plead—like you’re waiting to hear something desperately.
“because it’s unbearable to see you with other men,” he says hoarsely. if you’re uncomfortable, you don’t show it. but he has reason to believe you’re quite the opposite, in fact, when your eyes seem to brighten.
“and if i were to say i appreciate your intentions?” you ask softly.
finally, his jaw loosens—instead, he replaces the clench with a loose, easy grin, one that allows him to chuckle lowly as he stares at you with a playful disbelief.
“that so?” he hums, “perhaps then you’d care to join me for dinner today, milady—i’ll have the finest meal the cafeteria has to offer waiting for you.”
“on a date?” you ask hopefully.
“on a date,” he confirms with a slight nod.
you kiss his cheek, making his breath catch in his throat as you step away and smile gleefully. “i’ll see you at dinner then, your grace.”
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NEUVILLETTE
the first day you skip your newfound routine of tea and desserts with neuvillette and the many, many melusines that join, it rains. harshly so, in fact.
you walk up to the palais, soaked from the unexpected weather as you grin sheepishly at a concerned sedene.
“madame!” she gasps, “oh, you’ve been caught in the weather!”
“it’s alright, sedene,” you chuckle, “it’s nothing new in fontaine to have unexpected rain. i suppose i should’ve planned accordingly. is monsieur neuvillette in his office? i have papers for him,” you hold up a file.
sedene fidgets for a moment, hesitant as she says, “yes…he’s in his office but…well, i should warn you that he’s not in the best of moods.”
“oh dear,” you furrow your brows, “how unfortunate. i’ll make it quick. they’re quite urgent papers.”
she nods at your promise—and just before you can turn to leave, she stops you, seemingly debating before making a final comment.
“you didn’t join us today, madame,” she starts, “for tea today during the monsieur’s break.”
“oh,” you tilt your head in surprise for a moment, “you’re right, i didn’t. i apologize if you were waiting on me. i was caught up with much paperwork to finish before i came in.”
“i see. perhaps monsieur neuvillette will appreciate knowing that, then,” she smiles.
before you can ask, she skips away, finding a group of melusines in the corner. you watch as they whisper away behind their paws, blinking back your confusion before walking towards the door of neuvillette’s office, knocking gently.
“monsieur neuvillette? may i come in? i have some papers that must be delivered to you.”
there’s a shuffle from inside, a clearing of the iudex’s throat before a raspy, “yes, of course. come in.”
you enter, walking in slowly as you close the distance between the door and his desk, smiling as you set the file down in your hands. he looks rather…well, you’re not sure, exactly—perhaps the best word would be melancholy. suddenly, sedene’s words from earlier ring in your head, and you wonder if there’s any relation between your absence and his seemingly downcast mood.
so you give him an apologetic look as you speak. “i apologize if my absence was a surprise to you today. it seems i lost track of time with paperwork. i hope you enjoyed a peaceful break with the melusines,” you hum, “you certainly need a proper break with all the duties you take on.”
against your better judgement, you reach over, brushing a strand of misplaced hair from his forehead and tucking it back in place. rarely does the chief justice of fontaine ever look less than prim and proper, if ever at all—and the action causes you to pause just as much as it does him.
he breaks the silence first, and if he notices the slight flustered expression on your face, he doesn’t point it out as he says gently, “it’s quite alright. i’m sure you’re a busy individual.”
“i do quite enjoy my routine visit,” you say shyly, “it was a shame i couldn’t join today. but rest assured, i’ll be present tomorrow.”
“i’m glad to hear it,” he seems to brighten a bit, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he admits in a quieter voice, “truthfully, i had assumed you didn’t want to join me—or excuse me, us,” he coughs, correcting himself at the end.
“oh dear,” you furrow your brows, crinkles forming in your forehead as you quickly shake your head, “of course i love joining you. today was a rare occasion, i’m afraid. i hope i didn’t upset you, monsieur.”
“no,” he shakes his head just as quickly. he coughs, clearing his throat as he adds, “it’s just that i…well, i have come to enjoy your company. a little more than i perhaps should.”
he doesn’t meet your gaze, cheeks flushed a gentle shade of pink as you take in his words. silently after a moment, with a bright grin on your face that spreads across your lips and finds itself in the deepest of crinkles in your eyes, you slowly reach over to cup his face.
neuvillette, no matter how trained in self control, cannot help but lean into your touch, staring at you with wide eyes as you rub a delicate circle into the swell of his cheek.
“i’ve come to enjoy your company as well, monsieur. perhaps…perhaps it would be nice to enjoy each other’s company outside of the palais as well,” you offer. and then, eyeing the small opening in the door, you add, “somewhere away from prying eyes.”
neuvillette watches as the door quickly shuts, the soft giggles of the melusines muffled behind the door as he chuckles in amusement. his hand cups the back of your own, cheek laying comfortably in your palm.
“yes,” he murmurs softly, “i think i would love that.”
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ALHAITHAM
alhaitham is not drunk today.
you can tell when you open the door because he’s not swaying, or slurring his words, or staring at you with a hazy look. instead, he’s perfectly sober, perfectly rational, and perfectly collected alhaitham.
you look at him in surprise before smiling in greeting.
“you’re not drunk for once,” you murmur, “i don’t think i ever get a visit from you when you’re not drunk.”
the words make him wince a bit—he doesn’t like the implication of that. alhaitham enjoys your company when he’s not inebriated, especially when he’s not inebriated, in fact. mainly because he can actually recall things that way, like the way you laugh and the crinkle of your eyes. but somehow, being drunk has become a bit of a weekly routine for him at the tavern with his friends (which really, is just cyno and tighnari, and of course, kaveh—but kaveh can hardly be considered a friend these days).
coming to your doorstep every week when he’s drunk becomes a byproduct of his habits. he can’t control them, like an involuntary muscle that moves on its own accord without his permission. just like his heart beats and pumps blood, his feet carry him to find you.
it’s natural, autonomic.
“i didn’t want to drink tonight,” he explains, rubbing his neck awkwardly. alhaitham is blunt—speaking his mind is not a complicated task. he’s sure of his thoughts and opinions, and the response people give them is of little concern to him.
but his thoughts aren’t very coherent when they come to you. he’s not sure of even a single thing, in fact. sure, he knows he likes you—really, really likes you. but sometimes, he contemplates if he’s fallen in love with you. he can’t tell, if he’s being honest, because he’s never been in love before. it’s uncharted waters for even someone as knowledgeable as him.
and then there’s the more difficult part. he’s not sure if you feel the same, or if you’d respond positively to the idea of his developed feelings. logic tells him you’re kind, compassionate, deeply understanding. perhaps you’d let him down gently and still consider him a good friend if you don’t feel the same. but for some reason, there’s an illogical part of him. one he doesn’t recognize. one that tells him that you might walk away and never look twice in his direction again as soon as you realize the nature of his feelings.
logic doesn’t win in his mind for once. it hasn’t for a very long time. it’s why he doesn’t tell you for so long how he feels.but tonight he plans to change that.
regardless of your feelings, requited or unrequited, alhaitham will tell you how he feels. he owes you that much, for all the careful care and deduction you put into handling his drunk self. for all the meals you made and let him eat before letting him crash on your couch. for all the cups of coffee you made his hungover self as you carefully tiptoed around your own home so the noise wouldn’t disturb his pounding head.
he clears his throat, fiddling with his fingers as he stares at his feet.
“do you want to come in?” you offer.
he shakes his head. “i don’t think that’s a good idea. i came…i came to say something.”
“i see,” you nod, “then by all means, share what you have to say.”
it’s not so easy. not when he tries to plan the words in his head as he walks to your home, and not when he’s standing before you. alhaitham is a linguist. he speaks over twenty languages, some of which are known to be romantic by nature. he’s read the divinest of poems and decoded the most complicated of hieroglyphics. he, of all people, should excel in putting words together.
but his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth as he stares at you, though. distantly, he’s aware he must look stupid. standing here, silent and stiff as you stand by your door and wait for him to spit out what he has to say.
so he says the first thing he can think—and it makes his face burn as soon as he realizes what he says. “your sabz meat stew is my favorite.”
you grin, chuckling in amusement as you murmur, “oh my, i’m flattered. you came all this way to praise my cooking?”
“n-no,” he sighs in embarrassment, “that…that’s not what i meant.”
you hum, smiling at him softly as you patiently wait for him to speak again. a part of him feels like you’re aware of something, something that maybe even he’s not aware of himself. but he doesn’t want to dwell on that—perhaps your knowledge is a product of his drunken rambles, and he’s not sure he wants to even begin imagining what that might look like. what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.
“well, if you must know,” you giggle, “i enjoy making your favorite for you.”
“i enjoy your stew,” he mumbles, concentrating for a moment before his face hardens with determination and he looks at you, “i enjoy waking up on your couch, and drinking your coffee, and the way you hum when you get ready for the day. it’s enjoyable because it’s you.”
you process his words for a moment before smile slowly, eyeing him with wonder as you break into a fit of giggles. he doesn’t have time to dwell on whether or not you’re laughing at him because there’s an arm looping around his bicep, pulling him in past your door and pressing him against it as soon as it’s shut.
you’re close—it’s the first thing he notices, chest brushed against his chest as you look up at him with a fond, affectionate expression.
“you’re a smart man, alhaitham,” you murmur, “i’m sure you can figure out why i make your favorite every time you come. and make your coffee just how you like. and let you sleep in on my couch when i could be spending my morning enjoying the sun.”
he wants to tell you that he doesn’t feel very smart when he’s around you. it’s like logic is a foreign concept as soon as your smile invades his line of sight. but words are difficult enough to produce when you’re so close, he doesn’t think he could tell you even if he tried.
instead, he asks, “because you’re kind?”
“not kind enough to do groceries for two every weekend,” you chuckle. “unless…”
“unless…?” he asks breathlessly.
“unless it’s you, silly,” you snort. “do fill in the lines, will you?”
he allows himself to hope. because it doesn’t take logic to let himself hope you feel the same way he does.
“if…” he takes a deep breath, taking a moment to contemplate before boldly settling his hands on your hips, “if i come here next week sober, would you still open the door for me?”
“of course,” you whisper.
“if i came whenever i wanted, would you still open the door for me?” he asks, eyes peering into yours desperately, begging you to tell him what he wants to hear.
you sigh, gently cupping his cheeks as he closes his eyes and shudders. “always,” you breathe, “will you come?”
“yes,” he nods. his shoulders slump—in relief and in pure bliss as he lets his head drop to the crook of your neck, pressing his nose into your warm skin as you cradle the back of his head. “because i enjoy coming home to you.”
“and i enjoy welcoming you home,” you murmur.
and it’s at the same time that you kiss the side of his head and he kisses the soft skin of your neck, a stumbling mess of limbs pressed against one another as you both find your way to collapse on your familiar couch.
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KAMISATO AYATO
it’s midnight when there’s a knock on your door. it’s rushed, an incessant tapping against the surface that almost has you concerned, but the familiar face through the peephole eases your worries.
and then it hits you—ayato is here. beyond the question of how he has the time to visit you so unexpectedly, there’s the concern of what people might think if he’s seen here so late, standing outside your door.
“ayato? why are you here?” you look at him in confusion as you open the door, eyebrows furrowing as he smiles at you.
“well, hello. such an enthusiastic greeting you’ve afforded me,” he says playfully, making you roll your eyes. “won’t you even invite me in?”
“well, come on then,” you huff, “it’s always something or another with you.”
“whatever do you mean?” he gasps, a hand pressing to his chest in mock hurt, “i’ve simply come to have a heartfelt conversation.”
“at this hour?” you cross your arms, scoffing at his timing. still, you could never turn him away.
it’s not of any trouble to you—ayato knows it too. but there’s something oddly vulnerable about having him in your home, and unexpectedly at that. suddenly, everything feels out of place and untidy to you, a contrast to the large, sophisticated estate you’re sure he must be used to. you shift on your feet, feeling the scrutinizing gaze of someone as important as the yashiro commissioner, standing in your small home where you have nowhere to hide.
“ah,” he nods in amusement, “how impolite of me. shall i take my departure, then?”
“i could hardly turn the yashiro commissioner away without allowing him to speak,” you shake your head, fighting back a smile as he grins. “pray tell, what could have prompted such a spontaneous visit?”
“i’d like to ask for your hand,” he says bluntly.
you blink, gaping at him in disbelief. ayato has never been cruel—in fact, he’s always been much the opposite. especially to you. he’s become painfully important, a friendship you’ve never expected but cannot fathom existing without now that you have him.
but something about this feels cruel, like he’s aware of the deeper feelings you’ve accidentally let surface in the process, feelings you try to push back desperately. how could the yashiro commissioner be seen with someone so far from his realm? someone so disconnected from his world and status?
you furrow your brows, looking at him unimpressed as you murmur, “that’s hardly funny, ayato. be serious.”
“i am serious,” he tilts his head, “i, kamisato ayato, would like to ask for your hand, milady. if you would be so kind, that is.”
his hand is offered to you—and something in your aches to reach for it. to feel his fingers intertwined with yours, to feel the rough calluses of his hands from years of swordsmanship, to feel the gentle warmth of his palm pressed up against yours.
“i-in marriage?” you ask in utter confusion.
he chuckles, hand still outstretched as he raises an eyebrow. “well, i figured marriage would be a bit sudden, but far be it from me to deny such an enthusiastic idea.”
you’re not sure why (or maybe you are, and you simply hate to admit it), but there’s a burning sting in the back of your eyes. something bubbling between humiliation and hurt and flooding in the form of tears as you stare at him unsure if he’s lost his mind, or if he’s simply joking at your expense.
ayato has never made you feel like a victim of casual cruelty from his end, so a small part of you wonders if he’s truly serious. but the more logical part of you tells you that if not a mere attempt at playfulness, what else could this be?
“this isn’t funny,” you whisper, voice small. “i hardly find such pranks entertaining, ayato. i thought you to be better than that.”
it’s silent. deafeningly so, in fact.
his hand drops—slowly, hesitant as he eyes you in uncertainty. he takes a step towards you, closing the distance enough to notice every small detail of your face, but leaving enough of a gap so as not to overstep.
“i hardly find any entertainment in offering myself up, either,” he murmurs, “do reject me gently if you intend to. i’m afraid my age is catching up to me—i have a weak heart.”
“you’re hardly old,” you snort, watching him suppress a smile as he studies you. “you’re really being serious?”
“do you doubt me?”
“i suppose not,” you whisper. his hand extends to you again, something hopeful in his eyes, something almost desperate as he stares at you and waits for you to finally take it in your grasp.
your hand slowly finds his, fingertips grazing those calluses you’ve noticed for so long, rough and firm under the delicateness of your touch. finally, it hits you he came without gloves on, and you realize it must be for the chance of feeling your skin against his, bare touch with no fabric to separate either of you.
you feel him, taking in the years and years of training that show through such toughened skin, and he watches you carefully as you trace along his palm before flattening your own against him, slowly lacing your fingers together.
“i have found the man who attacked you,” he says quietly, “and i’m ashamed to admit the…unsavory methods i was prepared to take to punish his crimes.”
“i hope you wouldn’t stoop to such levels for me,” you say quietly.
“i fear there isn’t much i wouldn’t resort to for your safety,” he admits.
“i’m hardly worth such trouble,” you shake your head, smiling softly as you reach over and cup his cheek, thumb brushing gently against the mole you’ve always ached to feel. whether from the brush of your lips or from the graze of your thumb, you’ve always wondered how it’d feel. “there are much more worthy women to be the object of your affections, my lord.”
“ayato,” he corrects. it sounds like a plead, if you listen carefully. “and not to me,” he shakes his head. “it’s you i desire. i’m afraid i cannot concentrate on my duties until i have you. the nation shall befall a most unfortunate fate if i must suffer a single night more without having you.”
“i’m starting to think i am the only hope inazuma has left,” you roll your eyes, staring at him in wonder, “it seems it has fallen to me to ensure we have a functioning yashiro commissioner.”
“i do hope you’ll take such responsibilities seriously.” his hand lays over your own, keeping your touch in place as he leans his face into your palm further, closing his eyes and relishing in your touch.
“oh, ayato,” you chuckle breathlessly, eyes watery as you step closer, closing the gap until your chest presses against his. you wonder if he can hear the rapid thrumming of your heart, if he can feel it. “you’ll be the death of me.”
“i should hope not,” he chuckles, leaning closer and closer until his lips hover over yours, just a millimeter away from brushing against them, “i fear for my own sanity should such an ill fate come before you.”
“oh kiss me, you fool,” you scoff tiredly at his antics.
he doesn’t waste a moment, pressing his lips hungrily against yours, hands wandering to your waist and instantly pulling you closer, fitting his palm to cradle the small of your back. he chases your lips frantically when you pull away, a low grunt of disapproval rumbling from his chest before he plants his lips against yours once more. he kisses you like he’s crossed oceans upon oceans to find you, fixed on keeping you not more than a fingertips distance away at all times so that he’ll never lose you again.
and finally—finally, once he’s decided he’s sufficiently stolen the air from your lungs, he allows you to pull back and breathe.
“i’m afraid i can be a rather overbearing lover,” he murmurs against your lips, pecking them lightly. “you’ll hardly be free of me should i desire your company.”
you chuckle, leaning to kiss his mole softly, cradling his face. “i believe i’ll find a way to cope,” you grin.
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ayato was fun to write last time, and he was just as fun to write this time and i am realizing i have some real hidden feelings for the man the more i write him. i really enjoy doing his dialogue, though i’m not sure if i do it justice. i sure hope i do 🥹
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sednas · 1 year
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i wanted to write something nasty but it ended up being quite sweet, don't blame me i just need love
⠀ૈ☆ ex-husband nanami x fem!reader
𓏲 ࣪₊♡ tw: [n]sfw, breeding kink, jealousy, possessiveness, fluffy ending
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it only took one look, just one look across the room full of guests to reignite something that had never really been extinguished.
nanami's grip around his glass of wine got a little tighter, his eyes flashing at you and his heart starting to beat fast.
he became more muscular since your divorce, his shoulders looked stronger, carrying him with much more confidence and charisma than before.
maybe he finally quit his shitty job, you thought to yourself, trying to act cool as you saw him coming closer...
yeah he definitely quit his job, you think to yourself again, laying on your back while his cock is splitting you open.
"I missed you so much my love..."
familiar goosebumps hit your skin and his hands slide along the curves of your waist, the tip of his cock pushing against your cervix.
all you can do is take it, unfocused eyes watching your ex-husband thrusting inside your dripping pussy. nanami grunts, his body pressed against your own, his breath fanning over your neck, and you can't help but moan his name and wrap your legs around his hips, trying to meet his thrusts.
"'missed you too kento..." you try to speak, your hands reaching out to hold his face.
you missed everything about him, the warmth of his skin, his cologne scent, how messy his blond hair gets when you run your hands through it, and the way he knows every single one of your weak spots.
he never fucked you this hard in the past, of course he was rough sometimes, but you can tell something has changed, snapped.
not that you're complaining about it.
your back arches off the bed, making his pelvic bone touch your spasming clit.
"this time I'm not letting you go angel..."
his eyes get darker, thinking about the potential men and women who had you since your divorce, it makes him fuck you harder, deeper.
"mine..." he whispers, more to himself than for you to hear.
he takes your hands to pin them above your head and smiles when he hears you whine.
"you're gonna cum angel?" he asks, not slowing down his thrusts.
he knows you by heart, and he smiles when you nod, his mouth starting to suck on the soft skin of your neck, marking you.
"that's okay, I'm gonna cum too..." he says, and you can feel his hot breath hitting your skin.
he keeps rubbing your sweet spot, completely lost in the feeling. god he missed that feeling, you're the only one who can make him lose his mind like that, he can't believe he let you go when you're this perfect.
"you're still not on birth control?"
and he smiles again when he sees you shake your head. so perfect.
"gonna put a baby in you yeah? gonna make you a mom... will you let me angel?"
you mindlessly nod your head, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, your whole body is trembling and you feel his cock twitches inside of you.
"please... breed me..." you sweetly asks, and he can't deny you.
your vision gets blurry, your eyes roll back and you violently cum around his cock as he does the same in you, still thrusting to push his cum deeper. you both stays silent for a few seconds, nanami's head buried in your neck, inhaling your familiar scent, closing his eyes of content when he feels your hands rubbing his back.
"I love you, I've never stopped loving you, even after six years..." he whispers, his voice sounding almost vulnerable as he kisses your shoulder.
you ruffle his hair, and you whine a little as you can feel his cock still pushing against your cervix.
"I'm here now, I won't leave."
he hums, his arms wrapping around your waist and you can feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep.
this time you both won't let go of each other.
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jjk masterlist
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slayfics · 5 months
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Katsuki gets caught being sweet to you.
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You started to finally catch your breath being at the top of the hiking trail Katsuki had dragged you out too.
"Alright there, it's just us up here so tell me already. What the hell has been going on?"
"That's why you brought me out here?" You asked.
"Just tell me already, stop being so damn stubborn." He pried you impatiently.
"I told you I'm fine Bakugo, just busy like everyone else." You replied.
"Don't give me that shit. Do you think I'm stupid? The other extras are too dense to notice but I can see how exhausted you've been this whole week. So just tell me- what's going on," He said.
"You didn't need to drag me out here on a hike in freezing weather to do this, you know," You said, slightly irritated at Katsuki continuing to push you.
"Ugh- will you stop stalling and talk already," He yelled, causing you to let out an annoyed sigh. Katsuki put his hands in his pockets and looked out at the view, his demeanor softening slightly. "You can talk to me, you know," he added, his voice lower and kinder than before.
You stayed looking at the view for a few more moments trying to figure out how to unpack everything that had been stressing you out. It wasn't like some big thing, but a summation of a bunch of little things that were beginning to become too challenging to manage.
A cold breeze blew by causing you to shiver. You wondered why Katsuki had insisted on bringing you up this mountain to talk to you. He could have pestered you in your dorm where it was warm.
Katsuki stole glances at you occasionally then focused back on the view not wanting to intimidate you too much from his glare. Hiking always helped him to clear his mind and gather his thoughts when they seemed too loud. He thought maybe it would help you too, and being away from all your classmates might make it easier for you to talk to him. At the very least it made it easier for Katsuki to be more vulnerable with you. He found it too daunting to express himself fully with all the attention of his classmates around. It was much easier being only in your company.
You took a deep breath, "I guess- it's just been hard to balance everything recently," You finally spoke, breaking the silence. Katsuki made it easy to open up to, as he had no problem sitting in silence for long extended periods. Others in your life felt the need to fill that silence with useless chatter which always prevented you from sitting in your emotions and being able to formulate them into words.
You took in another breath feeling a lump in your throat form. You hadn't wanted to talk to anyone about what was going on for fear of opening up the flood of emotions and not being able to stop. Now here it was. You didn't want to cry on this fucking hill.
Katsuki patiently waited while you gathered your thoughts.
"It's just been so much and I've been barely keeping up. It's- been getting to me recently. I've been forgetting things I shouldn't. Being unusually upset at things that aren't that big of a deal- and I just- it's dumb." You cut yourself off afraid to say anymore.
"It's not dumb. Don't hold that shit in, it's not healthy," He said encouraging you to keep talking.
You sighed, "I just... know that it could be way worse, and I've been through way worse so- I feel so irritated at myself. What I'm going through now isn't something I can't handle. I know that. So why do I feel so fucking exhausted with everything," You replied wiping a stray tear from your cheek.
"Hmm," Katsuki grunted, processing what you said. "You know, it's ok to be tired, and- to not be perfect. You can't just deny yourself from feeling overwhelmed because it could be worse. If you're exhausted now then those feelings are real- and it's ok to have them," He spoke.
You looked down at the view watching the distant cars pass, "Thanks," You managed to say taking another deep breath.
"You shouldn't wait to handle them until they explode either. Trust me, I know what that's like," He said, causing you to let out a small giggle. "You're too damn hard on yourself you know that?"
You let out a full laugh, "Oh that's pretty good coming from you. You're the pro at having too high expectations for yourself," you laughed.
You and Katsuki were wrapped up in your conversation causing you not to notice approaching classmates in the distance. Mina and Eijiro had also decided to come up the hill after class and spotted both of you in the distance.
"That looks like we shouldn't interrupt," Eijiro said.
"Yeah," Mina agreed. "But maybe... we could get a little closer to make sure everything is ok?" She said, pulling Eijiro into the bushes to spy on you and Katsuki. Eijiro was highly against the plan but was unable to protest for fear of you two hearing.
"Yeah I know I have high expectations for myself... that's why I know what it fucking looks like when you're being too hard on yourself. So- tonight I'm coming to your dorm and, I'm making sure you get to bed at a reasonable fucking time."
Mina's eyes widened as she looked at Eijiro, "Coming to their dorm?!" She whispered, and Eijrio covered her mouth, silencing her.
"You mean Grandpa time at 9 p.m.?"
"Shut up! 9 p.m. is late as hell! You damn idiots just don't know how to have a good sleep schedule! Look I'm making sure you get some sleep and tomorrow I'm taking you out. So- figure out where you want to eat, I don't care where. And I'm not letting you say no you need a break," Katsuki replied.
"You don't have to do that Bakugo."
"Of course, I don't have to but, I want to. So just shut up and let me take care of you ok. You better not be afraid to order enough food this time either! I'm buying so- just get whatever you want, alright?"
"Ok ok," You laughed, feeling your mood brighten.
"Next time, just tell me when you're having a bad day or something. Stop making me drag it out of you. I- worry about you, you know? Now let's go back to the dorms. I see you shivering," He said, beginning to walk back down the hill.
Mina squirmed again under Eijiro's hand, keeping her silent. Her eyes said it all. She was in disbelief at Katsuki's words.
"Here," Katsuki said, holding his hand out and offering it to you. "I'll warm your hand with my quirk," he said.
You grabbed his hand interlacing your fingers with his.
"Don't dare say anything about how sweaty my hands are!" He barked.
You giggled, "How many times do I have to tell you I don't care Bakugo. It's part of your quirk, and your quirk is amazing you shouldn't be self-conscious about it. Besides, I'm always happy to hold your hand," You said as you two walked down the mountain.
"Tch whatever," Katsuki grumbled looking away from you as a small tint grew on his cheeks.
Finally, when you and Katsuki were far enough down the hill, Eijiro released Mina.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!?" Mina exclaimed.
"Shh shhh," Eijiro pleaded.
"WHAT- He wants to take care of them?!? OH MY GOD! They are totally dating right?! That's what he said he's taking them out to eat! And he's sneaking into their dorm! Wait wait- when they held hands it sounded like that had before! AND AND BAKUGO WAS TOTALLY BLUSHING! NO WAY!" Mina said looking like she might pass out from all this information.
"Ashido relax, we shouldn't have heard any of that!" Eijiro replied.
"Yeah but but-" Mina exclaimed, her head spinning. "Who knew Baklugo could actually be so sweet! I can't wait to tell Jiro-" She said, pulling out her phone.
"NO!" Eijiro said, grabbing her phone from her. "Uh- sorry, I didn't mean to be so harsh but- you can't tell anyone what we heard ok?" Eijiro said.
"WHAT?! I just heard Bakugo being the sweetest boyfriend ever and you expect me not to say anything about that?!"
"YES!" Eijiro yelled. "Look they both like their privacy and there is a reason they were all the way up here talking, Ashido. I think we should keep this a secret and let them do things at their own pace ok?" He said, handing Mina back her phone.
"UGH-" She exclaimed letting out a big sigh. "I guess you're right... but wow who would have thought Bakugo could be a decent person much less a good boyfriend." She said.
Eijiro just shrugged at her words, "I don't know he's not a bad guy like you all make him out to be you know."
"Wait! You totally already knew didn't you!" Mina said, slapping Eijiro's shoulder.
"Hey! I mean- Bakugo is my best friend you know, so yeah I did..." He answered truthfully.
"You suck! Keeping secrets like that from me!" Mina said playfully, waving a finger at him.
"I'm sorry, but it's their business you know?" He said.
"Yeah I understand, guess we should go back to the dorms too now," Mina suggested.
"Yeah it is pretty cold up here, let's go." He agreed as they both started to walk down the hill. "I don't have Bakugo's quirk or anything but- if you're cold you can hold my hand too if you want," Eijiro suggested.
Mina's face tinted a darker pink as she reached out and grabbed Eijiro's hand.
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Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries
Picture taken from @everypanelofkatsuki, thank you for all your hard work! Go check them out if you haven’t!
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roolette · 4 months
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How Mk1 Men Fuck You
CW: NSFW, gn!reader
Bi-Han is just mean about it, frankly. Teasing you, never exactly hitting the spot you need him to, close enough to feel it, but not enough to really do much. And don't bother begging with him. He'll just roll his eyes and scoff, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb and not doing anything to give you release.
"I've barely touched you... how are you that desperate already? Honestly, it's ridiculous. You'll get what you want, just be quiet."
When he finally fucks you, it's at a relentless pace, holding your hips in place as he thrusts into you. He's stopped the teasing now, and is wholly focused on making you fall apart in his arms.
Tomas just wants to make you happy. He begs to taste you, to let him touch you where he wants to. He whines at the slightest touch from you, and you both know that you're the only one who can elicit these reactions from him. He could spend forever between your thighs, seriously, he'd die happy there. He'll run his hands up and down your thighs while he gives you head, he has to be touching you.
"Ahh... you look so... like this, I mean- don't tease me! I'll come up with a good description, just... let me have this."
PLEASE hold his jaw and make him look at you while you ride him. Remind him that he's yours, and he'll practically melt. He'll likely be the more vocal out of the two of you, babbling about how good you feel.
Kuai Liang is possessive in bed, but how can you blame him? It's the place where you're his, completely. And maybe this is just me being insane over that skin where his hair is up, but but he likes when you pull his hair while he fucks into you. You can also run your nails along his back, and good luck to anyone who comments on it. He's yours, and you're his, and he wants sex with you to be a reminder of that. He likes being able to look at you while he fucks you, especially those lovely expressions you make.
"No, don't look away. Keep your eyes on me. I don't want to miss a second of this."
You didn't initially expect him to be so open with his feelings in bed, but he likes to be vulnerable with you. He feels safe with you, and he doesn't have to be anyone but yours.
When it comes to fast and hard, it's Johnny Cage. Sex with him is always so energetic, and you have to wonder where that energy comes from. Admittedly, it took some time in the relationship for him to be intimate or slow with you, but you got there. Even then, he just likes sex to be fun. He'll crack jokes, tease you, or randomly bite you when you're least expecting it. He'll thrust up into you while you ride him, just to be a dick and throw you off balance. Have I mentioned he's a brat? Because he's a brat.
"So. You come here often? Well, you're about to, and- hey, ow! I'm supposed to be on camera, you know."
When he's intimate and slow, though, he really is. He'll whisper praises in your ear, words so genuine that it makes you blush more than the things he's doing to you. Everything he's too afraid to say sometimes, it all falls apart when you're in his arms.
I'm SICK and TIRED of people saying that Raiden doesn't know anything about sex, etc. He is loving, tender, and occasionally giggly. He sees sex as another way to be near you and show you how much he loves you. He'll kiss you all over while he's inside you, and he loves to praise you. He likes to fuck you with you in his lap and your legs wrapped around his waist. It's perfect, really. He can go deep inside you and look at you at the same time.
"You look so perfect like this. I'll move, love, I promise, just let me watch you for a moment."
He can make you cum fast, but he chooses not to. He likes to draw out your pleasure. Less to tease, and more to make it last as long as possible. He wants to fall apart with you.
Kenshi is going to make you cum on his fingers before he even thinks about fucking you. He's infuriatingly good at it, too. He'll leave you gasping and moaning just from his fingers, and he can't help but smile smugly about it, which only makes it more frustrating. You can beg him to fuck you, but it won't work. That's happening when he decides to, and not a moment sooner. So you may as well get used to cumming on his fingers.
"You're seriously still begging? C'mon, you know it's not going to work. Still, it's nice hearing you like this."
When he finally fucks you, it's slow and rough, going as deep as possible with each stroke. He'll wrap his arms around you while he does, face pressed against your shoulders, muttering praises and teasing words against your skin.
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anni1309-blog · 4 months
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felix catton x reader
warning: nsfw, cockwarming, oral, slight angst, plot twist
people loved felix. he was confident, friendly, protective but also funny, goofy just a good person to be around. that’s what you would see from the outside. but I knew the real him. we met long before oxford. we were practically just toddlers when our mothers became friends. you know, being from the same status, it connects and so Felix and I were never too far apart. it was when my mother died, that Felix suggested I also stay at Saltburn, maybe he thought, Oliver would feel more understood coming from a similar story. Oliver Quick. it never felt right. something about him. his eyes, so piercing, so perceptive. I felt unwell in his presence.
the days before Oliver’s planned birthday soirée, Felix got more and more clingy. we were always close. maybe closer than most best friend relationship would be. we were each others first. first kiss, first time having sex. I loved Felix but he was so much more than that.
since last week he requested me sleeping in his room, which I obliged. we were in each others embrace just talking about everything. he told me about his worries and also about Oliver that he felt bad for him and planned to take him back to his mother for a reunion.
the day of Oliver’s birthday came and I crossed Felix in a corridor having an unreadable expression on his face, a look of arger, confusion and disappointment. I tried talking to him but he refused. later on I was talking to a friend from uni when Felix dragged me off without an explanation into the middle of the maze. he was drunk. he hoisted me up on the pedestal pulled my panties down and got on his knees. I looked at him in confusion “Felix what are you-“ he looked up at me with a desperate look “please just- please let me do this”. knowing I had no chance refusing I let him attack my pussy which he ate so eagerly as if it was his last meal. my fingers buried in his hair holding him close as his large hands pinned my thighs.
steps were heard and Felix looked up annoyed to see Oliver who was just mumbling out Felix’s name and words of apologies. I was a bit disoriented by the pleasure that was taken from me when Felix stood up took me by the arm dragged me to the exit. of course I tried to resist but he looked almost stern but eyes full of determination “please go back to my room, don’t worry, I’ll be quick” he whispered in my ear and gave me a longing look before softly kissing my cheek. I knew it wasn’t up for debate so I went to his room waiting in his bed. an hour later felix came into his room, bumping into a few things before crashing in his bed beside me. he was shivering. his eyes glossy, sniffing ever so slightly before pulling me into his embrace. his head fell into the crook of my neck so I started stroking his hair softly. “Felix” I tried gently. he looked at me. I’ve never seen him so vulnerable, he didn’t wanna talk about it. “can I please sleep in you?” he asked weakly. I nodded my head so he quickly removed our bottoms and pushed his hard cock into me. the first penetration was always hard for both of us, his sheer size made me shiver and he let out a low groan, holding me as close as possible as be both fell asleep.
next morning, Elsbeth opened the door to Felix’s room, finding us in the same state as we were the prior night, but deciding not to comment on it, spoke with shiver in her voice “Felix darling, Oliver is missing.”
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jungwondazed · 4 months
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18+ only. / jake makes you ride his fingers 
“why not? it’s not like you haven’t taken something bigger, right?” your face is red hot as you look down at your feet, avoiding his eyes as he attempts to lean his body to the side to look up at you. that perfect grin is plastered all over him and it makes you squirm at his gentle teasing. 
you’re not doing this. it took you weeks for jake to convince you to ride him. there was something so vulnerable about inching yourself down his length and being in control of the pleasure. jake on the other hand, enjoyed seeing it a bit too much.
“hmm? what do you say?” he leans in to kiss your lips, taking his time to help warm you up. 
this convincing thing that jake always does, well he’s far too good at it. with his hands caressing every part of your body, running it along the sides of your hips to your lower back, you found it easy to unravel under his touch. 
he kisses you for a long time, so long you’re moaning inside his mouth before you even realize it. it feels good to be with jake, it feels good to do whatever it is he wants. 
his hands slowly linger towards your inner thighs, gripping any skin that he can to fondle you further, and you naturally open your legs to let him caress you. you gasp at his soft touches, the sensitivity turning you on by the second. 
not longer after, you position yourself to climb over jake, whining at how his fingers were just barely grazing the cloth of your drenched panties. you knew he wasn’t gonna touch you there until you got on top of it yourself, and the realization made you squirm. 
he stabilizes his hand right beneath you, and you start grinding on the pads of his finger tips.  
“j-jake, it feels, feels good like this.” you gasp all in one breath, grinding against him ever so slowly. your clit is pulsating over his mere finger tips, but it presses so firmly that you think you could cum if you were to keep going. 
“you gotta put it in too baby, want you to feel all of it.” jake says in between making out with your neck, small pecks being sprinkled every so often. 
you whine at his suggestion, and he runs his other hand to the back of your thighs, before hooking his fingers to pull your panties down to your knees, not bothering to pull them all the way off. 
he rests his hand flat, only sticking up his middle finger and it makes you blush profusely. there was something so submissive about riding a single finger, having him witness all of it with his clothes still on.
you run your folds along him, moaning at the skin to skin contact. rocking on your knees back and forth, the tip of his finger collects your slick.
jake brings his other hand to grip your waist, his hold more firm than you expected and you know he wants it in more than you do at this point. he guides your body to lower yourself down his finger, and you both moan together as you sink yourself around him. 
you sit on his palm for a few seconds, whining into his ear at how good this feels. his fingers are long, and hard. more than anything your own could ever do.
“ride it however you want now, _____. i can help you if you get too tired.” you nod at his reassurance, bringing yourself up, lowering down again and keeping a steady pace that makes you cry into his shoulder. bouncing on his singular finger felt good but you knew it wasn’t enough to get you to cum, and he brings his ring finger up to slide right into you. 
it was perfect like this now. you bring your arms to wrap around his shoulders, stabilizing yourself to continue riding him. his knuckles were wider than the rest of his finger, and your hot slick leaked out every time your walls clenched around them. it’s so sticky down there, the squishing against his palm echoing every time you slam down. your whimpers and his heavy breathing joined alongside the messy noises, and it was the most vulgar thing you’ve ever heard.
jake works his lips all over your shoulders and neck, his chest rising against your own. he likes this doesn’t he? is this what he wanted? what was the good in watching his girl fucking herself on his fingers when he’s not being touched at all?
you pull your face up to watch his expressions, and he was gorgeous in his daze. the small corner of his lips rise as he realizes you’re staring at him, and it makes you lean in to kiss his lips deeply. he was such a perfect guy, the intimacy always feeling right with him. 
he begins to thrust his fingers up every time you slam down, making the pleasure grow even further. you’re moaning nonsense into his mouth, and he answers with “mmhmm”s and “i know”s in response. 
riding jake’s fingers makes you feel good after all. there was no longer any humiliation as the only thing your mind could focus on was getting closer and closer and kissing the handsome man in front of you. the handsome man that was smiling into your kiss as if there was anything amusing about this. 
“so close jake, -m so close.” you pull away to lean your forehead against his, closing your eyes as the orgasm starts building with every bounce on his fingers. 
“yeah you got it baby, cum for me, i know you want to,” his other hand runs itself all over your body, bringing you a comfort as you work yourself up and down a few more times before you cum all along his fingers. 
he groans as you do, fucking his hand hard against your cunt as you come undone, forcing your orgasm out longer than if you were to just have ridden it yourself. he keeps thrusting into you even after you tell him it’s all too much, because he knows you can take a few fingers. 
“j-jake, please,” you’re both out of breath as he slows down, finally steadying his palm to let you ride out the last of your high before you collapse entirely on top of him, fingers still deep inside you. 
he plays with your hair, and kisses the sides of your face as you catch your breath. his body is warm under yours, his firm muscles stabilizing your soft one. 
jake is gentle and patient, as teasing as he is, he warms you up so well when introducing you to new things that it all feels easy to explore your body with him. from the first kiss to your first time, to this. being in jake’s embrace even with his fingers deep inside you put you at ease, so at ease that he doesn’t wake you when you slowly fall asleep on his chest. soft pecks on your shoulders as he rubs your back up and down, until his eyes close too. 
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cutielando · 5 months
Text
stay with me ~ rafe cameron
my masterlist
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"Don't come home"
Those words were echoing in Rafe's mind as he walked by the side of the road towards your house.
He had never seen eye to eye with his father, but he didn't think things would get so out of hand as to get himself kicked out.
He put his hand in his back pocket and took out his phone, smiling a little at the photo on his screen. It was one of the two of you at Midsummers, embracing each other and gazing lovingly into each other's eyes.
He scrolled down until he found your contact and pressed his phone against his ear, praying that you would still be awake.
"Babe?" you answered the phone, making Rafe let out a sigh of relief.
"It's so good to hear your voice, baby" he exclaimed, tears clouding his eyes.
He tried hard not to break down over the phone, but it was getting harder and harder.
"What's wrong, babe? Is everything okay?" you knew he wouldn't call this late unless something happened.
"I'm 5 minutes away from your house? Can I stay the night?" his voice was shaky, but he prayed that you didn't question him on it.
"Of course you can. I'll make you something to eat"
"Thank you. I love you"
"I love you too, bub"
He ended the call and put his phone back in his pocket before holding his head in his hands.
Hearing your voice was all he needed in that moment. He needed to hear that you were still there with him, that you didn't turn your back on him like his father just did not even an hour before.
Rafe snapped out of his daze only when he found himself standing in front of your house, seeing the light on in your bedroom and kitchen.
Before he could even knock on the door you opened it, standing there with the most sympathetic look you could muster.
"Oh, baby. Come here" you said and extended your arms.
Rafe didn't hesitate to step into your warm and familiar embrace, immediately burying his face into your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.
You brought your hand up to his hair while the other traced soothing circles on his back.
"Shh, you're okay now, you're safe with me" you whispered in his ear, making him completely break down.
You could feel him shake as sobs racked through his body, making your heart shatter for the boy in your arms.
You knew it had something to do with his father, it was always the case. However, you didn't push him to talk. You knew that he would tell you everything when he's ready.
After holding each other for a good 10 minutes, his sniffles had subsided and he finally stepped out of your arms, rubbing his neck awkwardly.
"I'm sorry, I just couldn't hold it in anymore" he whispered, avoiding eye contact with you.
You took his face in your arms and looked him right in the eyes.
"Never apologize for being vulnerable around me. It's not something to be ashamed of"
He bit his lip but nodded, leaning down and pecking your lips.
"Can we go eat? I haven't had anything since yesterday night" he whispered, making you smile and take his hand.
You lead him into your kitchen where you prepared warm sandwiches for both of you, knowing how much Rafe liked them.
He groaned at the sight and immediately dove in, making you chuckle and kiss his head.
You took a seat next to him and started eating silently, watching him intently.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" you asked softly once he finished eating.
He sighed and hung his head low.
"We got into an argument, I don't even remember what it was about. We both said some things, but I guess he just didn't want to bother anymore so he told me to leave and never come back home" he explained, his eyes welling up with tears once again.
"Oh, baby" you got up and enveloped him in your arms, rubbing his back.
He sniffled and buried his head in your chest, holding you tightly to his body.
You knew from the beginning what a piece of shit Ward Cameron was, but you never expected him to kick out his own son. That was low, even for him.
"You're going to stay here with me. My parents already love you and they know how your situation is. They will love having you around all the time" you said as you pulled away and held the sides of his face.
"I don't want to intrude and be a bother" 
"You're not intruding on anything. If anything, you're bringing some light in this house. It's boring when my parents are at work, you're going to save me from boredom. Plus, we get to spend every minute with each other, so that's just another bonus" you explained, smiling when you noticed his eyes twinkling and his lips curve into a small smile.
"You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you, baby" he leaned up and pecked your lips, making you smile against his lips.
"I'm going to head over to your house tomorrow and pick up all your clothes and anything else you might need. I don't want you to ever have to step foot in that house again"
"You don't have to do that, I can go and take my stuff by myself" he tried to reason with you, but you were having none of it.
You wouldn't risk another encounter with his father which could very easily turn violent.
"No, I'm going. He's not going to say anything to me because he knows I will not back down"
He sighed but nodded, his expression finally softening.
"I love you. Don't ever forget that" you whispered, rubbing your thumb along his cheek.
"I love you, too. So much"
As your lips met once again, you two were starting a new chapter together. Another part of your story was beginning.
And you couldn't be more grateful.
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honoredalone · 1 year
Text
pretty when you cry
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live laugh lana del rey.
*✭˚・゚✧*・゚
all the pretty stars shine for you my love, am i that girl, that you dream of?
he’s dreamed of this, you above him, sitting on his long, hard cock. warm walls suffocating him, making him dizzy, his vision blurring.
“too big, ‘s too much.” you’re whining, shifting your position in his lap to adjust to his large length. he’s mesmerized by you. not just the way you take him, but by the way you praise him, the way you hold him, the way you kiss him and just the way you look at him. it has him in a chokehold. that being said when you’re riding him you have no ounce of control. he’ll guide your hips, bouncing you up and down, thrusting when he grows inpatient, anything.
“just a little more.” he rasps, lifting his hips, pushing himself in further, feet pushed into the plush mattress. “my good fucking girl, you’re so good to me.” he laughs when you whimper, the head of his cock brushing your spot making you rock your hips desperately attempting to cause some friction. “ah ah ah. gotta be patient pretty.” he grasps your hips tightly, the pressure making you let out a sob.
“i wanna- just.. please.” you said exasperated, fed up with his teasing. his hold on your hips becoming softer, his thumbs massaging your hips. his eyes admiring your body. marks covering your skin, red flush to your cheeks, lashes damp.
“please what, my angel?” he says teasingly, hand sliding down, finding your clit. it’s soaked in your arousal, smiling like a jackass when you gasp out another strangled sob when he pinches it, hard. “aw you’re so cute. so needy.” you open your mouth to respond then you make eye contact with him when he brings his fingers, still drenched in your juices, into his mouth. his eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste, cock twitching and throbbing inside of you. “use your words.” he muses before spitting on his fingers and bringing them back down to your clit, rubbing roughly making your back arch, hips buck and moans falling from your lips.
“please-” you sigh as he slows his pace on your already sore spot. “please take care of me.” he smiles, sharp canines on display.
“all you had to do was ask pretty.” with no warning he retracts his fingers and grips both your thighs holding you down on him, thrusting his hips up with an excruciatingly fast pace. “such a pretty pussy on my pretty little bunny.” he groans, head falling back onto the pillow, continuing the fast pace he’s set. you moan nails scratching down chest to his abs making him spiral. “god you were made for me.” he says almost tearfully, you couldn’t really tell due to the sound of skin slapping skin, heavy breaths, small words and wet squelching.
because i’m pretty when i cry i’m pretty when i cry
he’s not one to cry, even during a sad moment, he keeps his tears in until he’s alone. no one can see him vulnerable, ever. he’s also never been one to cry during sex, usually, he’s the one making his partner cry. although, since being with you, crying while being inside of you has become a repeated occurrence. the first time you had sex with him, he started to sob as he pounded into you nearing his climax. after reaching his peak and cleaning up he laid in bed while you showered, he cringed at the thought of him crying while being inside of a women.
‘you’re such a baby.’ he thinks, when he is snapped back to reality by the spot beside him sinking down meaning you were next to him. “was i too rough with you?” he rolls onto his side to face you, looking into your eyes before they fall to your swollen pink lips.
“no, you were perfect.” you smile tiredly at him, scooting closer to him, cuddling into his warmth.
he never was one for post-sex cuddling, but there was something different about this. it was comfortable, it was soothing, he wanted it.
“it was sweet.” you said, when he moved a piece of hair from your eyes.
“what was sweet?” he asked warily, hoping you wouldn’t bring up his crying. despite his hope you did. “how is that sweet? it’s pathetic.” he whines moving to lay on his back, hands hiding his face, embarrassment coursing through his body.
“i just, i don’t know. i’m glad i made you feel good.” you said nervously, positioning yourself stomach down, head on his chest looking at his hidden face. “don’t be embarrassed, it was cute.”
“cute? that was cute to you?” he said sounding agitated and now even more embarrassed. being described as ‘cute’ is worse than telling him he’s weak. he doesn’t want to be cute.
“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to offend you.” you said now extremely nervous that you’d upset him, that any progress you’ve made with him now doesn’t matter. leaving your spot on his chest to now your back facing away from him, curled into yourself. trying to give him space so that he doesn’t feel more embarrassed with himself and annoyed with you.
he notices your change in behavior, now more aware that he had made you self-conscious. while he was embarrassed the last thing he’d want is to make you upset. you’ve only been dating for around 5 months but he’s sure that you’ll be his for the rest of eternity. “come here.” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around your waist, his strong arms lifting you effortlessly so you’re laying practically on top of him. he’s thought about it for the past few weeks.
‘what’s so different about you?’ it’s that when you’re together any moment spent together, you could be having a natural conversation but even if it’s completely silent, it’s comfortable. you guys don’t have to talk when you’re together. you know how to be together and just enjoy it without talking or touching. he allows himself to be vulnerable around you. he cries while fucking you and it’s so pretty.
i’m stronger than all my men, except for you
while he nears his high, his thrust become animalistic, his moans become louder and whinier, sobs and pleasure making him shake, body covered in sweat, fat tears falling down his face making his skin shine. he’s so pretty like this. “i’m close, i’m so close.” he cries, his cock throbbing almost painfully waiting for your permission to release. “please,” more cries falling from his pretty lips. “please let me-” he moans loudly, back arching, hips harshly thrusting into your heat. “i’m gonna-” a loud sob escapes his throat as he pushes the head of his cock as deep as he’s able to, his big hands gripping your thighs pushing them down onto the sides of his pelvis while he shoots his cum deep onto your warm walls.
you collapse onto his chest, his length still buried deep inside. his hands still gripping your thighs, chest rising and falling, sweat making your skin stick together. you lift your head looking at his red fucked-out face. you kiss his tear streaked cheeks, before lifting off of him. his and your own release dripping out of your hole, he watches the liquid fall onto the sheets as you struggle to move off of him.
“i love you.” he laughs at the irony. he never believed he’d fall in love, but when he looks at you he knows that this is what love should feel like.
“i love you so much.” you respond, before continuing with a small tease, “you’re pretty when you cry.” he shoots you a dirty look but nonetheless chuckles.
i’ll wait for you, babe it’s all i do, babe
satoru gojo, jean kirstein, tengen uzui, choso, oikawa tooru, ken kaneki, osamu miya and any of your favs of course <33
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prettyoatmeal · 5 months
Note
i know this is a long shot but HEAR ME OUT!
PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS can you do a TF141 reacting to when their girl asks to peg them. IM BEGGING YOU
TF141 and How They'd React to Reader Asking to Peg Them
A/N: I'm on it, anon. DON'T WORRY
Warnings: SMUT!!! Includes pegging ofc. Written with an AFAB reader with fem genitalia in mind.
NSFW UNDER CUT
Masterlist here!
***************
Price would be incredibly hesitant. I don’t think he’d actually agree to it. He’s very traditional. He’s normally the one fucking and believes it should stay that way. Maybe he’s thought about it before, maybe he hasn’t. TLDR, he doesn’t think he would enjoy it.
The furthest you would ever get to it is just fingering him. Of course it would take a bit to lay him back and have his legs spread, but you seemed so happy when he agreed to try something new with him.
Working him up wasn’t too hard, sucking him off to help comfort him, holding his hand when he got a little nervous. You could really feel his vulnerability radiating, never exactly being in this position before. But right as you push a slicked finger inside him, the all new feeling was too much and he backed out.
Yeah, it just isn’t his thing. But you were proud of him nonetheless for trusting you that much to just try. You make sure to suck him off good to make up for it.
Gaz I feel like would be the only one from them to be immediately for it. He’s probably fingered himself before, once giving himself a prostate orgasm that’s left him breathless and shuddering. He feels secure enough to bend over for his love.
Even if you’re just pushing your fingers inside him, he’s already begging you to fuck him.
“Gotta stretch you first, calm down.” But he’s pushing back against you with a shudder. He’s too eager, it makes you roll your eyes from how damn needy he can be. This man has no chill whatsoever.
Gaz back arches would go crazy, arching like a cat as the tip of your strap slams against that sensitive spot inside him. Has such a pretty and plump ass too so it’s hard to not claw at his flesh while he’s taking you from behind.
“F-Fuck.. right there, please. Right- mmfh!”
His eyes will roll back, his cheeks flushed as he asks you to ram his insides in no-mercy style. Kyle will actively bounce back on you, wondering to himself why he’s never asked you himself to do this earlier. It just feels too fucking good that he trears up and cries out for you to keep going.
“No! Don’t stop. Gonnacum, gonnacum, gonnacum!”
He gets so addicted to the feeling that it definitely becomes part of your routine, sometimes just wanting his pretty thoughts to be fucked out of his head.
I can see him coming home from duty one night and he’s just missed you so much. He’s like a dog in heat, begging you to fuck him again because he just needs you to take care of him so bad. Who are you to deny him when he’s asking so nicely? Good boys like Gaz deserve to get dicked down and have their backs blown out by their pretty little partner.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Ghost spits his tea out like a cartoon. I don't see him saying yes at first, very very reluctantly agreeing, but only to you fingering him. He isn’t used to being so vulnerable like that, but… just MAYBE he trusts you enough to not hurt him… pfft.. whatever.
Despite now nervous he feels, you know just how to calm him down. Your hands first run down his chest and stomach as you press small kisses along his lips and jaw. Running lower, you squeeze at his balls a few times before lubing your fingers up and gently pressing them against him.
“Relax, I’ve got you.”
His legs shake a little as you push them into his tight hole, his walls clenching around you. He would definitely not feel comfortable the first few times, or maybe even ever to take something as thick as your strap, but your fingers do him wonders for now.
He would definitely prefer you to move slowly, soft breaths leaving his mouth as he can’t help but dig his fingers into you and bury his flushed face into your neck. As he slowly becomes more and more comfortable with the feeling, you eventually hear him mumble into your neck, asking you to go a little faster.
His moans increase in volume, his legs threatening to close and trap your hand between his thighs every time you curl your fingers. But he’s loving it. He’s breathing heavily in your ear, his body shaking against you as his cock throbs and threatens to spill his cum on his tummy.
“Don’t.. don’t stop. Fuck, g’nna c-cum.. oh god-”
And it’s the best orgasm he’s ever had.
Soap wouldn’t be as eager as Gaz, but also not as against it as Price. Like Ghost, he’s in the middle.
“Seriously, Bonnie? Are you getting bored with me fucking you or what?”
He’ll prefer you take him in missionary first as you prep him. His face will scrunch up so beautifully when you push a finger inside him.
He squirms so much under you, trying to get comfortable. But once you curl your fingers, it only elicits a shaky moan from him as you press against his spongey prostate. And as you get the cue to finger fuck him, his moans become so cute and whiney. He wants to cum so bad just from your fingers, he gets almost sad when you’re forced to pull them out :(
He’s done with words once the strap on comes out. As his back arches against the bed and his legs wrap around your hips, his poor fucked out brain finally knows how it feels to be in your shoes. You know that you can’t feel it, but you wish you could just because of how deliciously he was tightening around the strap.
It’s only a matter of time until you need to slam a hand over his mouth to muffle his slutty moans.
“Mmh- Shit.. fuckfuckfuckfuck-!”
You don’t even need to touch his cock and he’s throbbing, leaking cum like a faucet.
He’s definitely asking for you to peg him again.
***************
I feel like this is going to flop so bad since I've seen NONE of these going around. But I need to finish all my drafts though so 😭 rip
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slttygeto · 6 months
Text
HEART TO HEART : GOJO SATORU
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what is heart to heart? a show in which we bring two people who have history together to ask them a couple of interesting, heartbreaking questions.
today's episode: 27 year old Gojo Satoru broke up with his girlfriend 4 years ago, yet he cannot move on. does she feel the same? and does a person really not move on even after four years?
note: i started this…without a second thought. i dont know where its going or if its gonna do well. but i enjoyed it very much
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a cold room, a white set, two chairs and a table—satoru gojo knew that the point of this very simple and minimalistic set was to make him feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, but a tiny vase would’ve been appreciated.
“why did you two break up?”
the ivory haired man leans back in his chair with a dry chuckle, fingers drumming along the surface of the wooden table.
“I was insecure,” he admits rather bitterly. “I just had a lot of things to work on, and letting go of her seemed like the right thing to do.”
“do you miss her?”
“oh, absolutely,” there’s a smile on his face when he says that, and sits up straight with his hands clasped together (an indicator that he was most likely anxious to be asked such vulnerable question). he goes on to squeeze his hands a bit and his lips are sealed shut for a bit before opening them again. “I thought to myself that I wouldn’t find love for a while after her—but it’s been four years, and I cannot get myself to move on.”
“has she moved on?”
“maybe? I’m not sure,” he lets out a nervous laugh and looks away from the camera before holding his head in his hands, there was a mental battle going on inside his head—before he finally decides to speak again. “I actually stalked her instagram account last week through a mutual friend and… I didn’t see a man on any of the pictures. she could just be super private.”
“was she private about being with you?”
“she would post pictures here and there, we didn’t like to keep our relationship a secret.”
gojo is handed a blindfold and he neatly wraps it around his eyes and waits, heart thumping loudly in his chest.
when you were asked by a friend if you would do this interview, a part of you was a bit hesitant just because you weren’t sure if you wanted to air out your love life like this and have to deal with the consequences of a potential future lover being upset about it—but when you were told that it was gojo satoru, your ex-boyfriend whom you dated for 3 years and were planning on building a future with—that is until it abruptly ended with no warnings whatsoever. perhaps you ignored the tornado warnings? were there even any to begin with? you will never know because you blocked him everywhere on social media. from instagram to his phone number. you couldn’t deal with the fact that he existed around you, near you yet you couldn’t have him.
four long years of not having seen him took a toll on your heart, as it sure gets excited the moment you spot white strands on top of a head that is laid out on the table. his sense of style is still so casual and laid back, but not in a cocky way. satoru has always been about feeling comfortable in your clothes but you notice his tense shoulders and his foot tapping and can immediately tell that he is anxious.
you silently pull the chair back facing him and he lifts his head off of the table. your hands rest on top of the surface and the producer finally asks gojo to take off the blindfold.
when he does and you two lock eyes, you both start smiling big but you can’t help the little tremble to your lips before you look away from the camera to wipe a few emotional tears.
“sorry,” you whisper but your mic was able to pick it up. almost on instinct, satoru reaches towards you and squeezes your arm reassuringly.
“when was the last time you spoke to one another?”
“four years ago.” you are the one to answer the questions now and you keep avoiding satoru’s big blue eyes.
“was it hard having to walk away from a long term relationship?”
“It’s always hard when you thought there was a connection,” your emphasis on the word “thought” makes gojo look down at his lap almost in shame. he had no time to explain himself or what he did, yet he couldn’t help but feel that this interview was going to be like a second chance to explain himself and perhaps give a proper apology.
“you had no closure?”
“nope.” you both answer at the same time and it feels as though feelings of resentment are starting to resurface as your demeanor grows cold around him and you pull your hands away from the table.
“why do you think you broke up?”
“you said you couldn’t really see us together anymore,” you were now speaking to satoru directly and he gladly took the heat of your words. “you said…that us being together was just a waste of time and that one of us has to walk away,” you were clearly hurt by his words, even four years later. the breakup took a toll on you both physically and emotionally. you were incapable of going on dates for a painfully long period of time that your friends had to drag you outside to meet some potential new partners—but none of them felt like satoru. you resented him for crawling into your heart and finding a safe space there, for settling down and building a warm house inside only to tear it down and leave as quickly as he came.
“I wasn’t… sure what I wanted to do at the time, I was confused about my future,” satoru admits for the first time ever. “I thought it was so unfair to drag you down that hole with me when it was so clear to you that you had a plan in mind—a secure one so I just-“
“left.” you finish the sentence for him and he lets out a pained laugh.
“yeah, I left. and when I realized that you had blocked me, I knew that there was no going back and that I actually did it. yknow, like, it wasn’t this bad dream where I would wake up and you were still beside me—you were actually gone, I made you leave.”
there was a long silence after this and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not after that confession.
“did you miss me?” gojo takes the initiative to ask this question instead of the producer but they don’t complain, watching carefully as you look back at your ex partner.
“I did,” you say again in a whisper, almost scared that you coming to terms with this horrible realization was going to hurt you further.
“do you think that…we could’ve worked out had I been honest at the time?”
“satoru, I would’ve never left you as easily as you did,” you knew that it wasn’t easy for him, but you want him to know that your love for him was bigger than he ever thought.
“would you like to try again?”
you two stare at each other for a bit and you sneak your hand towards his huge palm, resting your index finger there and tracing soft circles.
“yeah… I want to. do you?” you look up at him through your eyelashes and gojo’s heart feels as though it is about to burst.
“I would love to.”
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