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luvwestwood · 3 months

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"Give Me Five" - Choso Kamo

4,591 words.

₊˚༊*·˚ warnings. nsfw (18+), ice-hockey player! choso, bestfriend's brother trope, p in v, resolved sexual tensions, foreplay, fingering, titty sucking, choso fucks you in his jersey, orgasm denial, praising, hair pulling, rough play, nsfw links (underlined), spitting kink, mirror play, feral choso

₊˚༊*·˚ notes. I absolutely enjoyed making this special request for @moonriseoverkyoto! thank you all so much for 700 followers ^^ included a link for you lovelies as a gift, hehe I hope to send more work your way soon :) thank you for the love and support this whole month!

rightful art credits to @/kmskc_f, @/yume041624, @/elcheggen, @/uoru1_juju (all on twt)!

(russian translation) - creds to @juliabelll 🩷

Goosebumps formed all over your skin as you were met with the coldness of the rink. Bits of regret filled you for being stubborn this morning, choosing to not wear extra layers. Squinting, you look around to find a close friend of yours, not too far a figure jumping up and down catches your eye.

"Hey! Over here- I'm here!" Yuji called to you in his typical, chirpy voice. Multiple heads turned to the sudden commotion, followed by another look to your direction. Embarrassed, you facepalm; whispering quiet apologies to others as you squeeze past the row of seats, making your way over.

"Yuji!- I got caught in traffic. Did I miss anything?" You fold down the seat next to him, the excited Yuji passing you another one of those generic team jerseys that he also had on. You take a good look at it before putting the garment over your head, the team colours being black and yellow.

Beside you, the boy rummages through a large plastic bag of popcorn. "Mmph- No- My brother would be happy if he knew- You were here." His eyes were wide open and alert, observing the game like a hawk.

"..Ah, it's nothing. If I didn't go, I would have been rotting at home." You giggled, knowing the real answer. As soon as Yuji sent the text, 'wanna go to my brother's game next weekend?'. You had to go. You've been dying to go. Ever since you met Choso for the first time, you made good use of every opportunity you had to see him.

He had an unforgettable face, and a dreamy body you'd sometimes, and shamelessly catch a glimpse of from time to time. But you were doubting, and unsure if the feeling was mutual. The man was busy, which drove you to think he had no time for a woman in his life.

You fixate your head to the rink in front of you. Of course, you got a hold of the best seats. Yuji being the brother of a world renowned hockey player had it’s benefits.

The same bag of popcorn lands firmly onto your lap, Yuji reaching for the soda cup underneath his foot. "Hmm, he looks pissed though. I think I know why." He leans back, index finger scratching at his head.

You furrow your brows, taking several glances around the ice. A familiar back faced you, 'Kamo' and '12' plastered onto the behind of his jersey. Dark hair effortlessly left down, not too much going on. A couple loose strands falling onto his face, Choso looked like a dream. Yuji beside you shrieks for his name, cheering his brother on.

Choso spins around, glaring at the audience. He was outraged, and you weren't sure why. He didn't dare smile, or wave. Yuji grunts at his brothers reaction, smile fading and slouching back down onto the seat.

"..Oh, I get what you mean now." It was undeniable that Choso was a different person behind his helmet, and that he took the sport seriously. He always wanted to make everyone proud. As one of the best players on his team, everyone counted on him, so there was a generous amount of pressure on his shoulders.

The screeching blow of a whistle shrills throughout the arena for half time, Choso violently shoving his hockey stick onto the ice. Plenty of teammates approach him, others choose to not get involved. Either way, he shoves past them. Everyone around you seemed confused, wondering what made him so agitated. You watched as he cursed to his higher-ups, hands strongly gripping onto the side wall.

"Every day, I fucking hate this sport more and more." Choso speaks through gritted teeth, angrily ripping off his helmet. "Piece of shit."

The staff team stands aside, ushering him out of the rink. His coach guides him over to the side bench, crouching down to give him a typical, motivational chat. Choso only puts his head down and into his gloved hands, becoming more and more annoyed by the second.

"Kamo- you know what? Bring your ass back to the locker room and give yourself five." Not knowing what to do, his coach decides it was best for him to blow off some steam. Not letting out another word, he storms off back into the locker rooms, the crowds groaning as he does so; the privacy invading camera focusing on him.

Chatter filled the air between the crowds around you. “..What happened to him? Your brother just stormed off.” You turn to Yuji, confused and filled with millions of questions.

"No clue, but I'm still a bit hungry." Yuji sighs, looking at the now empty plastic bag of popcorn. He takes a sip of what's left in his soda cup.

"..What? You are?" You look through your purse for some money. More than enough, that's for sure. A wrinkled twenty bill was tucked away inside. "Here- I'll go and get you something. It's on me."

You could've sworn that you had seen happiness twinkle in his eyes. This boy certainly loves to eat. "..Really?" He smiles, in response you nod your head up and down.

"Yeah! Just give me five, I'll be back as soon as possible." You warmly confirm the offer and he nods, shortly before you had to endure the entire process squeezing your way back out of the row.

You walk off into the tunnel leading to the outside of the arena. So many halls, and I’m not even familiar with this place. The two minute stroll led you to nowhere anyways, resulting in you doubting yourself. “…Where’s the food court?” You pout, coming to the conclusion you had probably been walking in circles this whole time.

The next long corridor you were met with was filled with doors everywhere. Loads of them. “..Ah.. have I been here before?”

Walking past each door, you look around for anybody nearby who was able to provide some sort of guidance. Hopeless, there was no one at all. Until one door you had walked past was slightly open, the light on. Maybe someone was in there? You genuinely just wanted to get your hot dogs.

You retrace your steps backwards, the faint sound of two voices coming from the room. Curious, you peeked your head through the slight gap.

"I don't think I did my best out there." It was Choso, elbows on knees on a padded seat. Heaving heavily, pulling the last strings of himself together. His coach with arms crossed in front of him. The conversation was hard to make out, but you were still able to put together some bits of it.

Clutching tightly onto your necklace, you couldn't help but feel concerned. Choso adored this sport with his entire heart, but so much he didn't have time to do anything else. Yuji always talked about how distant he could be when preparing for the new season.

The cursing stops, and before you know it, the door in front of you was wide open; framing you to look like an absolute snoop. You howl, instantly stepping back from the door frame. The same coach stood in front of you, an appalling look on his face. "Who the hell are you?! A money hungry reporter? Guards!-"

You nervously laugh, "Oh- No, no- I'm not a-", endless words were coming out of your mouth in a complete babble.

"..I know her." Choso who was watching everything unfold, tilted his head to the side, looking to see who was at the door.

The coach looks at you with an unamused expression, giving Choso a double look. His voice grows low, speaking in a discreet manner. "How about you talk it out with him. He needs it." He says before walking away from the frame, giving you a stare down as he does so.

Dumbfounded, a string of words only come out in a disoriented patter, "..I was just, looking for the.. concession stand.."

Choso on the other hand, keeps quiet. Blankly staring at the carpeted floor. His gloves and skates were off, but his jersey still on. You gulp, considering if you should speak anymore; scared that you'll only tick him off further.

Your hands rested in each of your palms, unsure whether you should step inside. "..I'm here with your brother, actually- cause he invited me to-"

"I know. I wanted you to come. I invited you, I told him to ask you." Choso speaks lowly, his tone different from when he was talking to the coach. He lets out a labored sigh, mumbling. "..Only for me to play like absolute shit,"

Processing what he had just said, it still changed your entire perspective. You didn't know how to think of it though, so you simply looked over it.

Deciding to approach him rather than standing at the door like some stranger, you close the door behind you. Recalling the coach talking about 'money hungry reporters', you didn't want to take any chances. "..I don't mean to pry, but do you want to talk about.. this?" Sitting down on the free seat beside Choso, you were careful with your choice of words. You didn't want to dig the hole any deeper. Making yourself comfortable, you set your bag away to the side and faced him.

Choso's voice was more soft, and it wasn't as stern to when he was talking to his coach. "..I just don't approve of how I'm performing lately."

Personally, you didn't know much about ice hockey. Nor did you store any valuable advice for it in your brain. It pained you to think that if you were to give him advice, you'd sound like a typical high school guidance counselor.

"Oh, well um.." You purse your lips, trying to come up with something to say. "Is it because you're.. stressed?" Still unsure of what to do, your hand slowly makes its way onto the flat of his back; slowly rubbing shapes all over to comfort him.

"Probably." Although his voice was now mellow, Choso's replies were becoming short and quick. You were afraid that this talking out was of no use to him.

Your hand stops its movements, "..Should you do something about it? Like let it out?", Choso lifts his head up, turning to you. A gulp forces down your throat at how intense he was eyeing you, your own eyes unable to hold contact.

Choso blinks, head turning away once again to rest his chin on his palm. "..I don't know how." That was his problem, Choso wasn't good at letting out his emotions. He usually bottled them up, and solved his personal problems on his own— you could almost refer to him as a stoic being.

Clearing your throat, you bite your lower lip to try and think of something. You gave him the advice, but you didn't know the method yourself. This is why I could never be a therapist.

You mentally curse at yourself, trying to come up with a suggestion that isn't so cheesy like, do what you love to do!

"..I don't know either.. Me- I guess?" A worried expression washes over your face, a mazed Choso turning his head to you for the second time.

A perplexed, questioning noise came stirred up in him. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Eyes fluttering, you were unable to provide him with another answer. What did you mean by, 'me'? Was it just another one of those moments where you let your mouth speak before you think? "..You could let it out.. on me?"

Chosos demeanor had altered, his chin peeling away from the warmth of his palm. His body sat upright as he looked at you, his lips slightly parted. You couldn't tell if he was mortified or enthralled; and you were almost begging for him to say something.

He closes his mouth and swallows some spit to nourish his dried out throat, before standing up in front of you. You feel as if your beating heart were to take over your entire body and head any second now. A lingering tension in the air so thick— not even a lumberjack could saw through it.

Choso's eyes surveying you from top to bottom, studying the features on your face— his thumb swipes across your cheek in a tender, reassuring matter. He was grateful of your offer, but he just couldn't bring himself to directly accept it.

Choso's hand slowly moves down your face, the tip of his thumb gently pressing down on your lower lip. "..You look good in our jersey," His thumb forces the rest of its way into your mouth, "..but even better if it was my own." Was this a code phrase for, 'I need to fuck you, and I need to fuck you now?' His thoughts drifted off to filthy things—like imagining himself rutting into you in his own, bespoke jersey, 'Kamo' in a dirty gold written on your back as you take him whole like a good girl.

Your breath hitches, his finger gliding over the surface of your tongue before he decides to pull it back out. Choso starts to take off the gear on his upper half, both the body pads and jersey.

It was difficult enough to keep your eyes off the now, half naked Choso in front of you. His body muscular and perfectly carved from all of the work he's been putting in for preparation, Choso was more than pleasing to look at. He tosses his jersey and gear beside you, his hands grabbing onto the flesh of your waist.

Lifting you from the seat, you wrap your legs around his torso, lips desperately locking onto each other as he switched positions. The two of you now sitting back down on the seat.

Short mewls and gasps for air leave your mouth as you started to pull your top over your head; Choso's hands roaming all over the surface of your ass. Your hands travel down his chest, your finger tips tracing over his abs painfully slow. Tongues tangling, Choso swallowing any moan he could get from you, especially after the distressingly slow period of yearning for one another. It felt like a reward.

Being the skilled man he is, his fingertips undo the clasp of your bra effortlessly. Groaning in satisfaction, eyes closed and sucking; a free hand fondling with the other.

You claw your fingers through his hair, quietly moaning as he hungrily latched onto your nipple. Arching against his bare skin, you ached to keep him close, and possibly closer. Amidst the sucking, Choso reaches for his jersey beside him, gesturing you to put it over your head. He fulfilled his wish. You proudly raise your arms up, feeling the fabric graze against your skin. It was quite massive on you, hence himself being twice your size.

Impatient, your curious hands wander off to the waistband of his pants; his safety gear already being off had made it easier. Reaching down and past his skin tight shorts, a thought evoking in you causing your hand to withdraw.

"..W-wait," You pant, "What about everyone out there?" You couldn't help but worry about those outside who would start to get suspicious. You knew how much this mattered to him.

Choso rolls his eyes. "I don't really care, they're assholes anyway. Let them wait." His lips only make its way back onto the skin of your neck, warm breath fanning down your sternum. He didn't care if everyone else were to wait outside. He had been waiting for this moment, dreaming about it - and would do anything to not miss it.

Using two hands, you possessively grab onto his jaw to keep him closer, Choso's hands cheekily moving up inside the jersey and cupping onto both of your tits. He really loves them, doesn't he?

Pulling away for another breath your lips miss his already. You hop off his lap, hastily unbuttoning and kicking off your jeans. They fly away to the other side of the locker room, Choso pulling you back into his embarace. But this time, you were facing the other way.

His fingers tug onto the hem of your panties, pulling them back until they snapped against your skin; the stinging sound echoing throughout the room.

You intently watch yourself in the full length mirror across from you two, Choso using his hands to guide your legs open; his head falling onto the crook of your neck.

Choso's hand slowly made its way down to the your panties, his fingertips moving the fabric to the side. Toying with your folds, taking his sweet time. His delicate, addicting touch giving you shivers all over. You close your eyes to indulge in the ecstasy of this moment; scolding yourself for not doing this with him any sooner.

His same fingertips circle your clit, the speed of his movements fluctuating; which resulted in you grabbing onto his bicep, your body sinking down into his lap. Choso watches you break into pieces under his touch, how you repeatedly tap on his arm- asking for leniency.

Choso leans down to your ear, his throaty voice almost sounding like he's purring. “Just relax for me, I can feel you’re too tensed up.” Wasn’t it supposed to be me who gives him advice? Why is it that the roles have reversed?

The back of your head presses deeply into his chest, Choso bringing retrieving fingers give them a generous suck before pushing them into you. His fingers curl up inside, working them in a motion that emits a squelching noise.

“C-Choso, it’s too much- please,” A whimper crawls out of your throat, the man above you cooing and hushing you.

Your hair raising pleas being the catalyst for him only wanting to do more than he already is. His middle finger taps and teases and your bundle of nerves, his strength making your tug on his wrist pointless. “..Shh, you don’t want them to hear, do you?”

You frantically shake your head from side to side, Choso grinning against the top of your head as he had you wrapped around his finger. Cock straining against his shorts, he would take a photo to make this memory last.

His gestures come to a halt and you whine, Choso had forbidden you from orgasming. "Choso!" You hiss as he glues his hands to your hips, twirling you around against the seat.

Mindfully pressing onto the flat of your lower back, he bends you forward; in need of support, your hands reached for the wooden slabs that divided the seats. His strong hands rip your underwear into fragments off your body, Choso sneering at you nagging him.

His actions in no rush, the same hands that were cupping your pussy now feeling down your back, Choso sheepishly grinning at this fresh new view, a degree of gratification fills him for the hundredth time at the sight of 'Kamo' and '12' plastered on your back.

You reach behind you, barely tapping your fingers on Choso's pelvis to grab his attention. He leans down to hear what you had to say, the imprint of his cock imprisoned by his shorts pressed against your bare pussy.

“..Let it all out, I promise I’ll be okay.” Your hand snaked behind his head, fingers combing through his hair one last time. His body heat glossed over your behind, a position so intimate.“Just tell me if I’m hurting you, alright?”

Nodding in approval, Choso withdraws into his old position. Grabbing for his girthy cock out of his shorts, he groans as he jerks it ever so slightly. Forming an orb of spit on his tongue, letting it fall directly onto his length. He doesn't waste anymore time to slide it in, the objective of not hurting you still at the back of his mind.

You let out a long, awaited whimper that broke out into a pained sniffle, his entire length stretching you out. Your anchoring onto the wooden panels only grew stronger, Choso stilling in you for a few moments. The two of you create a symphony of guilty satisfaction, Choso himself unable to process that you let him inside of you; luckiest man in the world, he thought.

His grip on the plush of your waist transition into a soothing massage, “..Are you okay?” Concerned, he regards your strained noises.

Tears well up in your eyes, Choso rubbing his hands up and down your back. “..I-I’m fine.” You replied, managing to form some words. Even though it hurts, you didn't want him to stop. You wanted this as much as he did. He inhales deeply, grunting as his hips stroked into you slow and deep. He took you in like a work of art, savoring every minute, second with you.

“Fuck, Choso- just go faster will you? I know you want to.” You choke out, words dying in your throat. Choso obeying the green llight, you felt him grab and twist onto the fabric of the jersey behind you, his hips snapping into you at a faster pace.

A cacophony of skin slapping and moaning echoed throughout the room, Choso brings his hand down to toy with your clit; heightening your stimulation. Your entire body jolting with each of his thrusts, his little praises like 'good girl', and 'you're taking me so well' making your sex pool like mad.

Broken and choppy curses slip past your wet llips, Choso letting go of the jersey and fixing his grip on your scalp, pulling your head back towards him.

His hand sneaks underneath your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact as you furrow your brows up at him. Your mouth stays wide open, moans no longer heard coming out from it. "Look at me baby," lids shut at the colossal pleasure, Choso needs not to repeat himself; but he does. "I said, look at me," Hauling your eyelids up, a vision of Choso glaring down at you from above— he wasn't the same person as the one half an hour ago.

Choso drops yet another ball of spit into your mouth, patting on the bottom of your chin telling you to shut and swallow, letting out a throaty sound in approval.

Clawing his fingers back into your scalp, he pushes your head back down. His leg lands onto the seat beside you, his thrusts brutally drilling into you deeper than before; Choso definitely rearranging your guts. You let him use you, so he did exactly that. Hell- if you two had a bed, just make sure you have enough saved for a new one the next day.

Makeup was unfortunately ruined from tears and spit, your hair no longer in perfect style from all the grabbing. His heavy balls relentlessly slapped against your clit, Choso huffing quietly.

He takes a hold of your two wrists, prying you from the comfort of the seat and commanding you to stand. Hypnotised, you watched everything unfold; Choso still holding onto your arms behind you as he continued to rut into your hole like a mad man.

Your cheeks were stained with tears, all sorts of unimaginable feelings stirring in the pool of your stomach; Choso already grows bored of the position. He swiftly lides you off his cock, turning you around for the fifth time today so he could see your beautiful face one more time.

Unsure of what was to happen next, you tiringly wrap both of your hands around his neck as he cupped onto the surface of your ass, lifting you up and sinking you down onto his cock. Your head rests against his chest in exhaustion, Choso’s anchored grip slowly loosening, choosing to move into the inside of your legs. Short paced breaths and eyes shutting at the new sensation of him fucking up into you. It was light work to him, carrying you was no problem at all.

Pushing both of you against a nearby wall, your back almost slid up and down the cold panels as Choso grew feral, his cock bullying but thoughtfully kissing your cervix at this unforgiving pace.

You fail to keep your eyes open, body taken over by bliss as he bottoms into you, convinced you had lost your voice. Choso could feel your silky juices move down his shaft, walls constantly clenching around around him.

“Don’t you dare close those eyes,” Choso orders, your hands hysterically tapping onto his shoulders to let him know you were going to snap. Your face winced in pain, you knew that you were going to have a hard time walking for the next week or two.

“..C-Choso,” you choke out, a threshold about to be met as the unfamiliar coil in your stomach urges to let loose.

His thrusts deepening to push you over the edge, cock sloppily moving in and out of your hole; his entire length coated with you.

“Just let it out— let it out.” he desperately whimpered, your mouth forming an ‘o’. His words like a spell, something that will haunt you for days coming. Choso’s eyes faux-sympathetically looking into yours that were blinking like mad as he felt your legs shiver in his grasp.

You shatter and cry at the orgasm that washed over you, bringing yourself to look at his cock withdrawing from your puffy, used cunt. Choso's jaw clenched, beads of white endlessly form at his tip, his balls twitching at the same time your gummy walls pulsed and throbbed around him.

He doesn’t let go of you, bodies still overheating and glistening from sweat. Instead he carries you back to the seats, sitting you down like a fragile porcelain doll. “My legs,” your voice raspy from the endless moaning, “..they’re so sore.”

Choso leans in for a meaningful kiss, your cock-dazed smile forming against his lips. His hands kneading your thighs. The locker room smelled of filthy, sinful sex—but that will just air out in no time. “..You need me to walk you out?”

“Choso, you can’t. There are cameras everywhere.” You grab your purse off the ground, in search of your phone. Almost forty five minutes have passed, your eyes widening. “Huh?! How long have I been gone for?"

He attempts to wipe the stained carpets, a faint white still engraved. Atleast he tried. “Pussy too good I forgot where I was, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Not funny, Choso. I need to get back to your brother!” Scurrying around the room, you pick your jeans off the ground, Choso whistling behind you causing you to turn your head,

“..Guess these aren’t of use to you anymore?” He holds the fragments of your panties up, torn to pieces, the dismaying mempry angering you as you were reminded of it for the second time.

You snap at him, Choso not taking any inch of you seriously. I mean, he literally had you whimpering, fucked you in his jersey and melting under his touch less than five minutes ago. “You fucking owe me a new pair.”

“I’ll buy you a hundred.”

You hurry out into the lobby, looking around for Yuji. Not having time to fix your hair, you almost scream as you walked past a reflection of yourself, mortified at how you looked. It’s okay… he wouldn’t suspect anything, right?

A familiar coral haired person was lounging at the sofas down the end, of course that had to be him. “Y-Yuji? is that you?” The head turning to your direction, it definitely was him; his eyes were shocked to still see you alive and standing before him.

You sit on the free armchair beside him, “..I’m so sorry, something just.. happened.” Nervously smiling, you wipe the residues of dried spit off your chin, your head stuck in one direction to avoid looking at Yuji in the face. Airing yourself with an invisible fan, you look away in all sorts of directions.

“It’s cool, the game got cancelled anyways- and I got my hotdogs.” He points to the four empty wrappers on the table in front of him. Yuji leans back against the sofa.

“..Uh— ..Is that, Choso's jersey?"

Fuck.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me, ily guys sm!!🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

#choso kamo smut #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #choso kamo x reader #choso x you #choso kamo #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso

1K notes · View notes

starsworldd · 6 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐬-𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬

PLEASE READ:

long post - thank you for 2k! i apologize for the wait but this took me a longggg time to prepare.

it’s also important to note that planets in taurus/scorpio will effect how you resonate with the interpretations below

reminder that readings are open! i’m now selling persona chart readings of planets/angles as well

take with a grain of salt

1st (scorpio) - 7th (taurus)❤️: relationships are a source of comfort and wisdom. scorpio risings’ experience of reality has to do with trust, hard truths, and taking back your power but their relations with others often bring a sense of peace and value into their lives. people may perceive you to be useful and smart in these similar qualities as well. your partnerships help to balance out the chaos and even insecurity you face at times with your identity and precense in the world

2nd (scorpio) - 8th (taurus) ❤️‍🔥: you are powerful in your resources/skills and in the way you support yourself overall. in this lifetime, how you find worth and appreciation for yourself and what you have (skills, physical resources, etc…). you may feel suppressed or face much controversy for what you value or for how you choose to support yourself monetary-wise or as a person. your biggest comeback story in life may have to do with self-esteem and with how you accumulate worth and value (physical or moral/mental) into your life and goals.

although there may be much turbulence and important realizations/truths that are found in how you support yourself and your goals, the transformations and scary things you face in life ironically enough can bring you lots of support if you choose to make good use out of it (which taurus is naturally good at). of course, this is the house of fears and traumas so a big part of your life story may include building your own sense of independence by learning from times of distress.

3rd (scorpio) - 9th (taurus) 💋: you could be especially sensitive to input from others and be able to pick up undertones and double meanings from others easily. communication, creativity (especially having to do with hands or written words), is your superpower. you grab others’ attention easily with your stories and artistic output when you learn to harness your fears/limitations effectively. this also makes you very intelligent of your community + gossip because scorpio rules over extremes as well

while in your everyday communication and daily life you may uncover and discuss skeleton’s in other people’s closet and may be doing a lot of activities that use a lot of your energy (scorpio is ruled by mars, planet of action), this makes you very comfortable (taurus) in being able to adapt to different environments and perspectives (9th house). having taurus in this house can make someone very wise because they find value and meaning in variety.

4th (scorpio) - 10th (taurus) 💄: people with scorpio in this house have usually had some sort of significant event or trauma regarding their family or childhood or may have regrets as to their actions in the past. these people could be born out of either extreme poverty or wealth too. these people’s sense of safety/privacy can be very important to them or they could feel like this aspect of their life is being compromised often (mars = conflict) but you could also find safety/comfort in curiousity or things that are “off-limits”.

if the private/emotional life of the native is exacerbated and transformative for them the career and reputation for the native is where they feel appreciated and most creative. having these signs in this house-axis can be indicative of a strong comeback story (extreme poverty to extreme wealth or even the other way around). the career-field can be very fulfilling (emotionally or monetary wise) and where you are grateful or feel lucky for the events your work presents.

5th (scorpio) - 11th (taurus) 🌹: feelings of creativity, romance, and happiness are taken to extreme lows and highs throughout life. if you’re a cancer rising, i believe this is where the “moody” reputation for us comes from. like leo rising, there could have been significant changes or revelations during childhood that changed your way of deriving happiness and familial support. these people may crave for luxury and overindulgence and can do so by turning their pain into power. scorpio in this house can make someone very grateful as well.

if our sense of happiness and luck undergoes significant change and gives us our “comebacks” throughout life, the 11th house is where we have already found peace and prosperity with our place in society. we encounter valuable experiences when polishing our individualism (5th) within our community (11th). we can find personal contentment and growth in accepting our individual, unique role amongst the people around us. you may like to surround yourself with confident people as well.

6th (scorpio) - 12th (taurus) 👠: these people can feel very unlucky or trapped throughout life, with the 6h ruling bad luck + burdens and scorpio relating to extremes. scorpio is a smart zodiac i’ve noticed as well, so these people usually have a certain way (especially that requires much energy) of doing their work and job that could defy others’ expectations. extreme focus on a certain obstacle or insecurities is also possible and can take awhile to finally figure out what makes you feel secure and satisfied with how you manage your burdens.

if your everyday burdens and responsibilities test your strength to the max in this lifetime, your imagination, creativity and solitude is where you find peace. it could also be that these people do unusual things to satisfy their need for pleasure and wholeness, because the 12th house is where we are easily misled. these people are internally comfortable with their thoughts and ideas, regardless of how odd they may be because it takes them to a place of stability from their scorpio 6h.

7th (scorpio) - 1st (taurus) 🍒: these natives’ partnerships/commitments make the native have to look more deeply into their underlying intentions or feelings with said partnerships/commitment. this can bring a lot of disturbing but also very eye-opening and insightful experiences that affects the native’s identity and ambitions going forth. scorpio can also be a curious sign so there can be a little bit of investigative or persistent approach to your partnerships and this is where your power can derive from.

it may seem like your partnerships “destroy” parts of your identity, because you approach the world from a sense of wholeness and peace. at least, these are circumstances that you are ambitious to achieve in your life. pleasure and steadiness are big life themes and at first it may seem like life is rather dull or boring, but similar to scorpio in its opposite function, taurus asks us to dig a little deeper into the simpler things in life and to find enjoyment.

8th (scorpio) - 2nd (taurus) 🍫: when dealing with other people’s problems (financially, intimate connection, debts, etc…) it brings about experiences that require you to fix what’s wrong or holding you back in life in rather uncomfortable ways. this can indicate someone who is afraid to acknowledge psychological blockages or who lacks the necessary bravery/instincts to attack underlying problems. you could earn valuable assets (tangible or not) from others when you engage with activities that are “gross” but healing/heroic.

this native survives on feeling complete. having a sense of wholeness is very important to these people and makes these people very resourceful because they are able to make the seemingly mundane valuable and able to work in their favor. these people are good at feeling in control of their life, future, and choices because they are committed and secure in their abilities. these people place much importance on authenticity, diversity, and self-sufficiency.

9th (scorpio) - 3rd (taurus) ❤️: when achieving mastery/global knowledge, and self-discovery it may have to do with bringing up topics that you ignored or swept under the rug especially having to do with your identity/precense (in context of the world and society). your global approach and experiences have to do with dealing uncomfortable topics in order to achieve better awareness and understanding of all aspects of the world. how you navigate foreign environments and your sense of flexibility is your strength.

if foreign experiences provide you with strength through perseverance, your intuition and familiar environments provide you with strength through growth (tangible or not). although it may seem like the everyday social rituals and ideas (including intuition), can appear mundane, this setup of houses gives an opportunity to grow a garden that provides roots, beauty, and good taste in the way you perceive and express yourself local environments.

10th (scorpio) - 4th (taurus) 🪭: these people have to have a ton of intiative when working in their career and towards their big goals in life. it may feel as though these people have to start from a bad hand of cards (compared to everybody else) in order to make it to the top or that their working conditions and/or responsibilities throughout life may feel difficult to complete or deals with high stakes/status. but even though there are difficult tasks they have to be done and you have drive/resourcefulness to do it!!

if the workplace is where you see the thorns in your garden (where you have to get rid of them) your home life and condition is where you see the roses. taurus is good at being able to attract good circumstances for themselves because taurus is very representative of wholeness and the feeling of completion. there’s probably more opportunities for you to setup and manage your domestic life the way you like. wisdom may be found through your domestic life too.

11th (scorpio) - 5th (taurus) 🧨: your surrounding communities/people who support you seem to try to pick you apart. you may feel as if the people who you’re around with don’t actually support you or that there’s something incomplete or “wrong” with the circumstances and people that made you successful, imposter syndrome possibly? your supporters/friends could show you things you couldn’t see before, likely for the better although they may reveal this in dramatic or difficult circumstances.

if you feel incomplete about the people/circumstances that support your public achievements, your creativity and lust for life is where you find contentment. these people feel most stable and appreciated for their talents and way of enjoying themselves. for these people, they find stability, growth, and satisfaction when they engage with activities that bring them happiness. they find beauty and appreciation from others for their self-expression/creatvity.

12th (scorpio) - 6th (taurus) ♠️: your drive to feel complete is what can you mislead you in life. this may be because you feel as if there’s always something missing or not being to shown to you but you are persistent in finding what that something is. this same energy can make the native very wise because they have to overcome their demons over and over again throughout life. but at the same time, you could also feel like your sense of resourcefulness and strength fails to manifest in reality.

if there’s conflict/determination in trying to protect yourself from things that induce bad energy, then there’s likely to be tranquility and acceptance in doing activities that can put your life back on track. the 6h is known as the house of bad fortune in astrology so these people are good at being able to find the most reliable way out of a difficult situation. and while these natives could be good at finding solutions, slacking off and overindulgence can lead to oversight with tasks.

once again thank you for 2k!

hope you enjoyed🥰

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nereidprinc3ss · 17 days

Text

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you.

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better.

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either.

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring.

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there.

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?”

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows.

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?”

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.”

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside.

“Nice, nice. What else?”

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.”

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening.

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.”

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself.

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.”

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.”

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.”

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice.

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.”

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better.

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.”

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry.

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.”

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless.

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.”

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart.

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.”

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again.

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle.

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life.

“Then I’m on my way.”

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime.

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?”

You shake your head and gasp a small sob.

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders.

His hand smooths over the back of your hair.

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear.

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.”

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight.

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?”

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.”

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.”

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea.

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave.

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.

At least, until he goes home.

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up.

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you.

“That among other things.”

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?”

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does.

“Okay.”

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

His lips pull into a melancholy smile.

“Anytime.”

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close.

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist.

“I can’t do that, honey.”

“Why not?”

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently.

“Because we’re not together anymore.”

“Why not?”

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is.

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down.

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.”

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.”

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke.

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.”

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again.

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.”

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales.

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.”

When he kisses you, it feels like home.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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sutorus · 7 months

Note

imagine having a sleep over at megumis and toji decides to steal you away once he finally passes out 😮‍💨 his shirts and sweats probably have cigarettes burns in them

you gave me sm toji brain rot

-🫧 anon

we gave each other toji brainrot anon 🤝 kind of a part 2 to the kinktober toji fic

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, unprotected, mild daddy kink, some anal play, degradation, toji being toji

you’re shifting on your feet, lips trapped between your teeth as you ring the doorbell. you’re early to the sleepover by a full hour.

you don’t know what you want to expect. if it’s toji, sitting on the couch, glass of some cheap shit on the armrest and hand tucked into his sweats.

or if it’s megumi, waiting at the door, bowl of popcorn by his hip and tv blasting because his dad isn’t home to scowl about the noise.

megumi does open the door. and toji does sit there.

and somehow, that’s the least likely, worst case scenario.

“hey,” megumi greets you, stepping aside to let you in.

toji doesn’t spare you a glance, so you let your eyes travel all over him. his bare feet propped up on the center table, his arm behind his head and fingers scratching his hair.

megumi notices you looking and — thankfully — only clicks his tongue, believing you’re just as irritated at his father’s presence as he is.

and are you? you’re unsure.

you don’t know how to face toji. you don’t know how to interact with him anymore, if you even should.

you sleep over at megumi’s house all the time, but right now you suddenly forgot how it even goes. do you take your shoes off at the genkan? do you leave your bag by the door?

you decide to just walk to megumi’s room wordlessly, taking the long way behind the couch as to not block toji’s view from the tv.

this doesn’t go unnoticed by either men.

megumi follows you inside, closing the door behind him and plopping down on his bed.

“so are we starting with the first movie?” he flips his laptop open. “it’s the best one, anyway.”

“uh, yeah, sure,” you sit down beside him hesitantly.

you’re just now noticing how much megumi and toji look alike and it’s freaking you out.

“what the fuck is wrong with you today?” blunt as always. blunt as toji.

“huh? dude, chill,” you lie down, placing the laptop on your lap. megumi eyes you suspiciously before lying down beside you. “i just didn’t sleep much last night.”

“right,” he says, skeptical but disinterested, and presses play.

every minute of the movie is torture — on the screen and in your head.

around the beginning of saw iii, megumi orders pizza. him, you and toji eat in silence.

complete silence. he doesn’t even look at you.

why isn’t he looking at you? you’re in your pajamas already. no bra. short shorts. you thought you’d both established that that worked on him.

toji wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets up, with a grunted clean up when you’re done.

it’s so frustrating, the total lack of attention, and you’re starting to get pent up. settling back down next to megumi to watch fucking saw iv and hear him question the viability of each trap drives you crazier by the minute.

when you finally tuck in for the night, you’re anything but relaxed.

what happened to “you have one more hole for me to wreck don’t you”? toji’s so full of shit, probably too drunk to even get it up tonight anyway.

it’s those angry thoughts that lull you to slumber, regret settling deep in your gut for having ever let that horrible man inside you.

not long after you fall asleep, however, you’re stirred awake, a soft, sake-soaked breeze blowing over your face.

you crack one eye open, no surprise in your gaze because who else could it be.

toji’s smirking, crouched down, eyes searching all over your sleeping form. it sends a chill down your spine.

what do you want, you mouth to him, anger persisting against the arousal already starting to build within you.

his grin grows wider, wilder. he gets up slowly and beckons with two fingers, and like the silly fucking slut you are, you follow.

you — not toji — make sure to gingerly close the door to megumi’s room before you turn around to face him. or rather, face his chest, the flimsy cloth littered with cigarette burns that covers those muscles you finally got to know so well.

“hello?” is all you can manage to say.

he loves your indignation, loves the brattiness, will love to fuck it out of you tonight, too.

“what, don’t want it?”

you roll your eyes.

“you had to wait until megumi’s right there to say you wanna do it?” your focus wavers as he runs his hands up and down your waist. “you couldn’t have pulled me aside before?”

toji presses his leer to the side of your throat, caging you in against the wall right by the door. you let out a soft moan, hands already reaching for his arms.

“had to make sure you two weren’t gettin’ it on,” he growls into the crock of your neck, making you grimace in disgust. “i don’t like to share my toys, y’know.”

“ew, he’s your son,” the irony in your statement isn’t lost on you, the person you should actually be ewing at.

you push him away and the feeling of his abs under your palms is enough to break any rest of resolve you had in you.

toji lets out a low, satisfied laugh, throwing his head back. “exactly why i worry.”

soon enough, and unsusprisingly, he has you bent over the kitchen island, pussy stretched out and dripping on his thick cock.

“shut the fuck up,” he keeps saying when you moan, only to fuck you harder and faster and deeper.

the furniture is digging into your belly, your forearms skidding on the top. you whine softly, angling your hips so he can hit that one spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“ohhh yeah, fuck back into me,” he grabs your hair and you let out a yelp, punished with a blow to your ass. still, you do as you’re told, the sounds of your skin slapping against his growing louder, quicker.

“t-touch me, touch me, make me cum,” you beg in a desperate whisper, head straining in his grip.

toji laughs, dragging his cock out of you slowly before plunging all the way back in.

“shut up, slut,” and god, why is that so hot to you, “last i checked you weren’t in a position to make demands.”

you whimper, trying to snake a hand down your clit to do it yourself.

suddenly, toji stops.

“ah, that reminds me,” he slowly, torturously slowly to make you feel every inch of him, pulls out of you completely. then he pokes your asshole with the head of his cock.

“no,” you say in a panicked breath, trying to turn around in his grip. “no, no, not today, definitely not right now no—“

“shhh, fuck, be quiet,” he wraps his entire forearm around your throat and brings your body into his chest, nibbling at your jaw. “you’re gonna like it.”

“i don’t want to,” it’s one last attempt, the most honest one you have. toji likes fucking with you, flustering you, that much is obvious.

but is he seriously— and without any prep, too?—

he chuckles low in his throat, right into your ear.

“then ask me not to.”

he slides the tip back into your cunt and you relax a little, even moving your hips back and forth like hey! look how good my pussy is! can you just stay in it and not ruin my ass please!

“please don’t fuck my ass,” you try.

“hmm,” he hums, sliding his cockhead out. then back in. then back out.

“please, toji, don’t fuck my asshole tonight,” you clench around him, trying to take more of his length inside.

“not good enough, whore,” he slams all way back in, shoving your body into the sharp wood and making you wail. toji starts moving, fucking little noises out of you with every thrust. “say, ‘no please daddy not there, not my little asshole!’”

you let out a long, pitchy whine, clawing at the arm around your neck.

“do it or else,” toji gathers up some wetness at your entrance with your thumb and presses it to your asshole, rubbing little wet circles.

“fuck you, toj—ahh,” his finger slips inside and you clench down hard. “please! please daddy not there, not my—“

toji cackles, fucking you in earnest now, plowing every word and thought out of your brain. you’re grunting with the force of his thrusts, finding purchase in the edges of the kitchen island, knuckles turning white.

“such a good little girl, aren’t ya,” he says into the shell of your ear, snaking a hand around your hip to rub your puffy clit.

you throw your head back onto his shoulder, legs shaking in between his. “ahhh, fuck, d-daddy—“

your orgasm washes over you so forcefully that you feel like folding in two, going limp in toji’s grip as he chases his own.

he buries a few low, animalistic grunts into your hair before he’s filling up your cunt, aborted little thrusts pushing out staccato breaths from his lips.

he releases his grip on you, cock still spurting out the rest of his load.

once he pulls out, toji keeps feeding his cum into your pussy over and over, telling you to watch the floors before you have to limp your way to the bathroom to clean up.

you do the best you can without taking a shower, body so thoroughly exhausted that you don’t even know if you’d have the energy for one.

right now, all you want is to plop down on a soft surface and get some much needed sleep, feeling actually satisfied.

when you leave the bathroom, you’re faced with a groggy, disheveled megumi standing by his bedroom door.

your eyes quickly scan your surroundings.

toji is nowhere to be seen.

megumi’s eyes reveal nothing, none of the thoughts that might be going through his head right now.

as for you, there’s only one word bouncing around inside your skull:

fuck.

a/n sorry again

#✩.asks #✩.toji #✩.bsf’s dad!toji #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji reader smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro reader #toji x you #dilf toji #toji x female reader #✩.🫧 anon

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lipringlrh · 8 months

Text

give you a show | LN4

summary: when your roommates that good looking it's hard not to stare

pairings: roommate!lando norris x fem!reader

an: not posted in a little (sorry) but i actually have a lot in my drafts but i’m grouping them together so i need to finish them all off before i post them :)

word count: 800

warnings: none i don’t think

feedback and reblogs appreciated !!

…

You hadn't been roommates with Lando very long, only a few weeks, and each day you couldn't tell whether you were regretting it or enjoying it more each day. Today included both.

You opened the door to your apartment only an hour later than you left after picking up a few things you needed. You quickly took your shoes off by the door and headed further inside, announcing a quick, "I'm home," as you led your jacket down on the top of a chair, a bad habit both you and Lando formed, but it was just easier.

"Kitchen," a reply came from your left.

You headed towards the kitchen door, briefly pausing as you stepped inside before recomposing yourself and carrying on. You sat on a bar stool seat in the corner of the room, Lando in perfect view, before unconsciously taking your phone out.

You weren't focused on it at all, not when Lando was standing there, looking like that. His body was faced sideways away from you and his hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions, but he still pulled it off well. Grey sweatpants hung off his hips very lowly and he wasn't wearing a shirt at all. He was either chopping some food or mixing something - you weren't sure, you weren't focused on what he was doing anyway.

A few minutes pass, he's moved around a bit but always returning to the same place no matter what he's doing. You weren't really sure what he was doing but you weren't complaining. The more he seemed to stand there, the more his arms seemed to flex too. You were loving it, completely unaware of how obvious you were, or what you were meant be to doing, you couldn't think straight anyway.

You were too concentrated on him and his arms that you didn't hear him call your name the first time - or the second. It was only the third time he said it that it knocked you out of your daze. Your eyes met his face again, tracing over every detail. Luckily he wasn't looking at you, you thought, he was still focused on whatever he was doing.

"You've been watching that for an awful long time," he spoke, a smirk taking over his features. He was right, you realised. Looking at the phone, you noticed you'd opened tiktok and had just been letting the same video play on loop since you sat down.

You stutter for a moment, thinking of an excuse. "I was reading the comments." You said, lying through your teeth way too obviously.

His smirk never faltered, instead just grew, "took you a while to tell me that. Don't worry, I don't mind when you stare."

You didn't really know how to answer that so you just stayed quiet, your eyes still trained on his face as he turned around and stepped much closer to you.

He was right in front of you now, the only thing separating you was the marble of the kitchen bar worktop.

"What? You think I didn't notice? I cut up way more salad than I'd need in a week, waiting for you to notice." He grinned, putting his arms on the counter and moving his face down to the same height as yours and ever so slightly closer.

"So you were giving me a show?" You reply before you have any time to think about it. You watch as he falters at your response, giving yourself a little ego boost. You cock your head to the side, almost as if you're challenging him for a reply.

He quickly gains his compose back, brushing off the slight embarrassment of you getting him flustered - it isn't the first time but it's the most obvious.

"Well, when there's a pretty girl in front of you, always." He whispers as though it's obvious, in an attempt to again fluster you more than how you flustered him.

"So you think I'm pretty?" You try to hide your grin but fail miserably. Lando also fails to hide his when he sees yours.

"Very much so," he smiles back, moving a hand up to brush some hair off of your face. "Now," he says, slapping his hands down on the counter and flexing slightly, "what kind of roommate would I be if I didn't give you a full show? Anything else you'd like to watch me do?" he says, almost playful, almost serious, liking the idea of being ogled at by you quite nice.

"Well there's a watermelon in the fridge," you tease, tracing your hand down the prominent veins in his arm.

He smirks, watching your hand in motion, "perfect." He doesn't move though, he stays there, absorbed in the way your hand touches his arm.

"Get to it!" you joke, watching as he moves instantly towards the fridge.

In his rush, he doesn't forget to turn back and give you a cheeky wink, followed by a "yes, ma'am."

…

feedback + reblogs appreciated and requests are open :)

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r3starttt · 3 months

Text

Your eyes were so puffy already it was painful to keep them open. This was probably the third night this week you were unable to sleep due all the coughing and fever and just the general annoyance that comes physically and mentally due the flu.

And if being sick wasn’t enough, being sleep deprived had been causing you some nightmares whenever you tried to sleep. You’d only got some rest in those small moments before actually falling asleep, when you’re not too conscious yet not sleeping either, and even though those five minutes felt so good it wasn’t enough.

You were just so exhausted and frustrated, not being able to do anything but stay in bed all day. Too weak to even shower, you felt so disgusted about yourself and so ashamed for letting Abby see you like this. She insisted you looked hot still, her pretty girl, but you didn’t feel like that at all.

And you loved her and loved that she loved you so much too, but couldn’t help but feel like shit for being such a burden, for not being able to help her as you usually did. Whether you stood at home or you went out with her you always did something to keep things calm for both, to make your life’s easier. And now you couldn’t and besides that you looked horrible and felt horrible and you needed her like never but didn’t feel like asking her for anything, she was working so har lately, to attend you and help you recover. You couldn’t ask for more.

Until today. Your throat just felt so sore, your eyes felt like you’ve been crying since forever due the little sleep you’ve got and the sickness itself. And your nose and lips were burning from how much you’ve been blowing your nose lately. You needed her, to find some comfort, to see if maybe she’d got you to sleep as she usually did, just anything she could provide you, it would help and you were desperate for some of it.

“Abs… babe” your small pats on her shoulder woke her up, trying her best to open her eyes and see whatever was wrong “what happened?” the sleepiness of her voice made you smile almost immediately, waking a small regret on you for not waking her up the other days you struggled to sleep. You knew she wouldn’t mind it, but it didn’t feel right.

“can’t sleep… and everything hurts” just as you spoke you could feel the knot of tears forming on your throat. It was all the exhaustion and frustration finally coming out. And Abby knew, she noticed just by hearing your voice that you needed her, and she also knew that you only needed her when you were containing yourself for too long. So she didn’t hesitate on waking up completely, rubbing her eyes and gently sitting in the bed, opening her arms so you could cuddle with her.

“Shhh shhh it’s okay… you’re alright now” her voice was a little bit husky, yet so comforting and smooth. you crawled to her arms, making yourself some space in between all the blankets “how long have you felt like this huh? you know I don’t mind taking care of you” you could feel her arms slowly embracing you, pulling you closer to her and leaving just the right amount of space in between your bodies so you could properly breath “I’m sorry” your tears started to stain Abby’s shirt, making her heart ache “don’t apologize baby… it’s alright yeah? just let it all out”

The tears finally coming out of your body, her pretty voice guiding you trough your sleep and the warmth of her body made you have a proper sleep finally. It took her long enough to get it but it worked, after some minutes you were already pressed on her, head buried deep on her chest and arms holding on her shirt gently. You couldn’t look more prettier.

And even though your sleepy expression could still scream how overwhelmed you’ve been feeling and your breathing was still unsteady, you were finally able to rest. Not as you wished but just enough to help you get better. And it was all because of her.

an: I’m sick, AGAIN(? Third time this year and it’s only been one month. Wtf this is so homophobic 👎

Anyways, I needed the comfort. Also check this or get the fuck out of here :) thanks that’s all bye

#abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson #abby anderson fluff #abby fanfiction #abby x fem!reader #abby tlou #abby fluff #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby x you #abby x y/n #abby x masc!reader #abby x black reader #ren masterlist ᵎᵎ ִ ۫ ּ ⊹

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loudstan · 9 months

Text

Fuck the Police

Summary: Your ability to read people's minds is very useful for the police during interrogations. And that's how you meet Yuta, a werewolf accused of stealing a car.

Pairing: Werewolf! Yuta x Witch! Female reader

Warnings: Magic AU, werewolf AU, smut, Yuta being a menace

“How many times do I have to tell you? You got the wrong guys!” Yuta repeated after who knows how many times. He tried to be as calm as possible at first, reminding himself that these people were doing their job, but god was this dude dense.

“They saw you,” an equally exhausted policeman groaned. He had easily been arguing with the suspected criminal for an hour without getting any information from him. The younger boy next to him, Shotaro, wasn’t particularly helpful either, squirming nervously on his seat and nodding to everything the older man said.

“No one saw us because we were not there! Jesus, are you dumb?!” Yuta exclaimed, raising his voice.

The policeman tilted his head and stared down at Yuta. “If I were you, I would be very careful with how I talk to the police.”

“Fuck the police,” Yuta hissed, and at that minute the door opened and a beautiful young woman came in. Yuta’s mouth fell open. He wasn’t a fan of police uniforms but damn did it look good on you. Or maybe it wasn’t the uniform, but you? Because no matter how much the clothes covered, your curves were still visible and oh so much appreciated…

“Did you call for me, Officer Choi?” You asked your colleague.

“Sorry to bother you, officer L/N. I’m afraid I need some help interrogating these two,” he replied, standing up and pulling out an empty chair for you to sit like he often did. Damn, Yuta wished he had been the one to do that for you but he was handcuffed to the table.

You nodded and thanked him, before taking a seat in front of the two Japanese men. One of them kept looking at his own hands on the table and looked like he was about to cry. The other… was basically devouring you with his eyes.

You weren’t new to this type of scenario. Your ability to literally read people’s minds was often needed for interrogations, and you knew how to keep a straight face no matter how intimidating the criminal was. But this guy? He was fucking hot.

You cleared your throat and focused on your task instead. After reading the documents and hearing what you needed to know from Seungcheol Choi, you started the interrogation. “Did you steal this car?” You asked straight to the point, showing the two men in front of you a picture of the missing vehicle.

“…What if we did?” The guy who according to the document in front of you was called Yuta Nakamoto replied after a few seconds.

You couldn’t help the surprised look on your face, which wasn’t as surprised as Seungcheol’s; so this guy really argued with him for hours just to confess the moment you walked in? And the winning prize goes to Shotaro, whose eyes were wide in terror as he stared at Yuta.

“…So, did you?” You insisted.

“I mean, we could have,” Yuta shrugged.

“WE DIDN’T!” The younger, terrified man let his voice be heard for the first time, shaking his head. “We really didn’t!”

You looked into Shotaro’s eyes and concentrated on reading his thoughts. He was being honest. But then what was the other guy’s deal? You tried to read Yuta’s mind and regretted it immediately; all his thoughts were focused on you, your face…

That mouth, what pretty sounds can it make?

You sat up straight and tried not to blush too hard.

“Please, concentrate on the question, Mr. Nakamoto,” you said through gritted teeth. “Are you innocent?”

“I’m far from that,” he replied, allowing his eyes to travel down your body. Next to him, Shotaro groaned.

“This is the worst possible moment to flirt! I don’t wanna go to jail!” He hissed at Yuta in Japanese.

“We’ll go to jail if we have to,” the older replied firmly.

“We literally don’t have to! We didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Shotaro, just trust me.”

“ No!” the younger replied. “ You’re not thinking straight because you’re horny.”

“I’m not just horny, pup,” Yuta chuckled, his eyes sparkling like never before. “I have just met my forever mate. I imprinted.”

“HUH?!” Shotaro yelled.

On the opposite side of the table, Seungcheol and you stared at each other and then back to the wolves who suddenly seemed very excited about something.

“What’s going on?” Seungcheol mumbled.

“I don't know! They’re thinking too fast and in a language that I don’t understand!” You hissed back.

“Hey!” Seungcheol yelled, his authoritative tone catching everyone’s attention. “Did you do it or not?!”

“Maybe,” Yuta said.

“No!” Shotaro said at the same time.

And then they went back to arguing with each other.

“That one seems to be honest,” you told Seungcheol, pointing at Shotaro. “But the other guy’s head is a mess, so I can’t be sure…”

Seungcheol let out a frustrated sigh. His job could be so exhausting sometimes.

And then he suddenly smirked, his eyes shining excitedly like he just had the best idea ever.

“Could you please get us something to drink? I bet these men are very thirsty,” he said, giving you a pointed look that lets you know immediately what type of drink he was talking about. The serum of truth wasn’t something your department would normally use. They carried out regular interrogations by just talking to suspects and, if it was really necessary, they would call you to read their minds. But this interrogation wasn’t going anywhere even with you there, and neither you nor Seungcheol was getting paid extra hours.

So you came back to the interrogation room after a few minutes, carrying a tray with four glasses of water, making sure to remember which ones had the serum and placing them in front of the two men who were giving you and Seungcheol a headache. They thanked you, and Yuta was the first to drink it absentmindedly while still talking to his friend like two policemen weren’t there waiting for them to finally confess, and then he grimaced. He put his glass down and grabbed Shotaro’s hand when he was about to drink his own. Shotaro gave him a confused look but Yuta turned his attention to you.

“What a naughty girl, officer,” he purred, licking his lips. “Making regular citizens drink the serum of truth.”

“It’s legal in this state,” Seungcheol answered quickly, making Yuta’s attention turn to him instead.

“Not without consent,” Yuta scoffed. “You tricked us into drinking it.”

“We didn’t,” you said. “The glass simply was on the table and you took it by choice. We didn’t say a word to you.”

Yuta’s eyes were on you again, and his lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “God, I love a smart woman,” he said. “You’re so fucking attractive.”

“Watch it,” Seungcheol hissed in a protective manner, while you tried your best to remain unaffected in spite of your ears and cheeks turning hot.

“I thought you wanted me to be honest,” Yuta challenged. “Well, I have no choice now, so ask me anything.”

You cleared your throat and tried to start the interrogation again. “Did you–”

“I imprinted on you,” Yuta stated before you had the chance to finish the question. Next to him, Shotaro sighed tiredly and rested his forehead on the table. The situation kept getting worse, and the chances of him not sleeping in a cell tonight were slim.

“W-wha– That’s not what I was gonna….” you stuttered, confused. You scanned the documents in your hands again, just to see that the photocopy of this man’s ID indeed stated that he was a werewolf. “What?” you repeated dumbly.

“I said I imprinted on you. My human side wants to date the fuck out of you. My wolf wants to mate with you. Should I go into detail –?”

“No!” you exclaimed, not able to hide your nervousness anymore. “I…I know what imprinting means,” you mumbled.

“Well, shit…” Seungcheol murmured next to you. “Y/N,” he called your name softly and then corrected himself when he saw Yuta’s eyes sparkle at the discovery of your first name. “I mean, officer L/N, you don’t have to continue with this interrogation. I’ll take care of it, just go home.”

Don’t go, Yuta’s pleading voice said. He hadn’t spoken. It was his thoughts resonating in the back of your head.

You looked at him, and he seemed to be breathing heavily compared to before. His intense eyes were still glued to you, but now they were as red and shiny as a ruby.

Shotaro’s whole body suddenly tensed and he lifted his head to stare at Yuta cautiously.

And then someone knocked on the door and entered the room, interrupting the tense moment.

“We caught the culprits,” one of your colleagues said. “We found the missing car too, so these two are free to go,” he added, pointing at the wolves.

Shotaro’s soul seemed to come back to his body and he quickly addressed his pack brother. “You hear that? We’ll be home soon! Hold it just for a bit longer!”

Yuta grunted but nodded. He had been through his rut plenty of times before and he was usually very good at controlling it, but it was really fucking hard when you were right in front of him.

“Is he in rut?!” Seungcheol asked incredulously. “You should have said something sooner!” he exclaimed, standing up and walking around the table to uncuff them. But when he stood next to Yuta and saw the way he was eyeing you like he was ready to pounce on you, he hesitated. “Officer Lee, please take Officer L/N home immediately. Make sure she’s safe,” he instructed.

The other officer nodded quickly and waited for you to follow him, but you didn’t move from your seat.

You were looking back into Yuta’s eyes in a daze. You didn’t want to leave. It was like he was luring you in with all the romantic and dirty promises he was making to you in his head. You could hear every thought he was having right now, every little fantasy; and you were the protagonist of all of them.

“Officer L/N!” Seungcheol’s voice brought you back to reality. “Go.”

You let out a heavy sigh and stood up quickly, trying to block Yuta’s thoughts from entering your head.

Yuta’s eyes followed you as you left the room and then he grunted, scrunching his eyes closed.

Seungcheol, who had just finished uncuffing Shotaro, waited until he heard the car start and drive away before he freed Yuta too.

“You have outstanding self-control,” the officer praised the wolf, who was panting on the chair, burying his claws on the wooden table. “I know you could have broken those handcuffs easily if you wanted to… Oh, and I apologize for the misunderstanding.”

“If you’re really sorry, tell me Y/N’s work schedule,” Yuta grunted in pain, allowing Shotaro to help him get up from the chair.

“I can’t do that,” Seungcheol said, giving him a sympathetic smile. Yuta seemed like a decent guy, but that didn’t mean he was entitled to have you. “But I can at least give you guys a ride home, let’s go.”

When you got home, you felt incredibly drained. Mind reading was an activity that often took a lot of your strength, but also Yuta’s thoughts had been so intense, he made you weak on the knees.

So your name is Y/N? That’s lovely, just like you.

I want you to be the first thing I see every morning.

Make you breakfast in bed, you won’t have to lift a finger.

Make love to you until you see stars—

You shuddered. You had found him attractive the moment your eyes landed on him, but your expectations for a partner were…different. You were hoping to end up with a simple office worker who had a stable routine and live a calm life together. And Yuta, with his leather jacket, talking back to the police and being half animal was far from what you wanted to attract.

There was no way you would accept his “confession”… but your heart skipped a beat as you thought of him and your groin pulsated when you remembered his unsolicited dirty thoughts invading your head.

I would let you step all over me.

Use me however you want.

“Fuck,” you sighed and plopped down on your bed.

But then it will be my turn.

And I can go all night, officer…

Unconsciously, your hand made its way down your stomach and into your panties. You were soaking.

You knew you shouldn’t.

I could make you feel so fucking good…

But maybe just a little wouldn’t hurt, right? Plus, it’s not like anyone would ever know, and you were so hot and bothered, and his voice wouldn’t leave your head. Just once. Just once and then you would never think about him again, you told yourself, sighing in relief and arching your back.

“Why are the police outside our house?” Ten asked, looking out the window.

“Don’t look at me,” Chenle shrugged, not even bothering to pause the videogame he was playing with Jisung.

“Oh, I wasn’t looking at you,” Ten assured him, crossing his arms and glaring at Haechan.

“Wha-?” Haechan almost choked on the cereal he was munching straight out of the box. “Why me?! I didn’t do anything!”

“It wouldn’t be the first time. You called the police for absolutely no reason last month.”

“No reason?” Haechan gasped. “No reason?! Renjun was trying to kill me!”

“Please, I barely touched you,” Renjun rolled his eyes at him.

“Did you say the police?!” Yangyang suddenly ran into the living room, pale and distressed.

“...Yangyang, what did you do?!” Ten asked in panic as he heard knocking on the door.

“NOTHING!” Yangyang yelled, eyes darting quickly from the main door to his room. “Hyung, please don’t open the door just yet. I need 5 minutes–no, 3 minutes–”

“Good evening, officer. Can I help you?” Taeil greeted a stoic-looking policeman at the door. He had dismissed the entire conversation and made his way to the door to open it, tired of the insistent knocking.

“Good evening, I was wondering if–,” The officer spoke only to be interrupted by an agitated young wolf.

“THEY ARE JUST PLANTS!” Yangyang defended himself from the inexistent accusation, causing all eyes to land on him.

Officer Seungcheol Choi glared at him in silence, before deciding that he really did not care what the hell he was talking about. His shift had finished hours ago and he was not getting paid enough for the headache he had right now. “I was wondering if Yuta Nakamoto and Shotaro Osaki live here.”

“Yes,” Taeil replied quickly. “W-why? Did something happen to them?”

“They are both fine,” Seungcheol said. “One of them entered his rut at the police station so I brought them here,” he said, pointing at the car where Shotaro was opening the door, allowing them to see Yuta lying on his side in the back seat.

“Shit,” Taeil murmured, rushing towards the car, followed by Ten.

The other members who were in the living room quickly gathered at the door to see what was going on while Seungcheol helped Shotaro get Yuta out of the car and into Ten and Taeil’s arms.

Yuta laughed weakly. “Why would the weakest members come to my rescue?”

“You’re in no position to complain,” Ten chided, circling Yuta’s waist with his arm.

“The big, strong ones are all out, so it’s either us or the kids,” Taeil added, ignoring the complaints from the youngest members yelling they were not kids.

They thanked the policeman and dragged Yuta into the house, managing to make him drink some water before giving him some privacy.

“That’s weird,” Renjun hummed when he came back to the living room after giving Yuta some suppressants. “Yuta hyung is usually very careful when it comes to his cycle. He always makes sure he’s home before his rut hits.”

“Unless…” Ten’s lips morphed into a teasing smile. “Someone triggered it.”

“No way!” Taeil raised his eyebrows and let out a little laugh of disbelief. “Did he find…?”

Shotaro, who was lying down on the sofa, looked at them with tired eyes and nodded.

“He imprinted?!” Renjun asked. “It’s happening so fast…Everyone’s finding their mate…”

“Don’t be sad, Renjunie,” Haechan cooed, hugging him.

“I’m not–,” he responded, trying to push him away.

“You’ll find yourself a kinky bad bitch who puts you in your place—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Renjun snapped at Haechan, slapping his back hard several times until he whined and apologized.

“What is she like?” Chenle asked absentmindedly while resuming his videogame with Jisung.

“I don’t know much about her but she works for the police,” Shotaro replied vaguely.

“Okay. Hot,” Ten approved.

“I fail to see how that’s hot,” Renjun refuted.

“Uh, hello? The uniform? The cuffs?” Ten explained very slowly like he was talking to an idiot and Taeil laughed, shaking his head from side to side.

“You hear that, Jisungie?” Haechan teased the youngest, who was trying very hard to pretend he didn’t hear him. “Handcuffs, like the ones I gifted you. Have you tried them on your mate yet?”

Jisung froze and his character on screen died right in that moment. Chenle laughed blatantly and celebrated his victory, giving Haechan a high five while Jisung quickly excused himself to go to the bathroom.

Renjun frowned. “You know, one day Jisung will finally notice he’s grown to be taller and stronger than you and he’ll kick your ass. And I’ll enjoy it very much.”

“Just say you like my ass and go,” Haechan winked and quickly ran away, with Renjun chasing after him with murderous intent.

“Why were you at the police station anyways?” Taeil continued the conversation like nothing happened.

“They mistook us for someone else. Thought we stole a car or something,” Shotaro mumbled, pouting cutely. “And then Yuta hyung’s brain malfunctioned when he saw his mate and tried to confess to a crime he didn’t commit just to buy time with her.”

Chenle, Taeil, and Ten burst out laughing. They would make sure to tease Yuta about that later since he always prided himself on being cool and collected.

He was not cool and collected at all in his room, fucking into his fist and biting his lip. All he could think about was fucking the rut out of his system so he could go out and see you again. And then fuck you. He was sure you would feel way better than his hand; tight and hot around him as your tits bounced each time he thrusts inside you. He didn’t even need to picture you naked; he was more than okay with unbuttoning your blouse and riling your skirt up, taking you while still wearing your uniform and not caring if the entire police station saw. If you blushed just like you did when he confessed he imprinted on you, you would look so fucking cute. And if only you said his name a bit louder… He wasn’t a fan of people calling him by his last name, but the way you had called him ‘Mr. Nakamoto’...

“FUCK!” he grunted, cumming so hard that some drops landed on his face. His body finally relaxed on the messy bed sheets and he let out a breathy laugh. He was mostly laughing at himself; he had never been so desperate to cum before and it had been so intense he was sure he stopped breathing for almost an entire minute. If he felt like this just to the thought of you, then he knew actually touching you would be the end of him.

It was 4 days later that you saw Yuta Nakamoto again. He was casually leaning against the wall outside the police station like he owned the place.

“Hi, beautiful,” he called for you, smiling happily and approaching you.

“It’s Officer L/N to you,” you hissed, but couldn’t hide the blush on your ears at the memory of what you had done alone in the darkness while thinking of him.

“Officer L/N,” he corrected himself, biting back a smirk like he found the whole situation very amusing. “I wanted to see you.”

“I’m working,” you said. “Unless you have an emergency that the police can help with, you shouldn’t be here.”

Instead of sulking, he smiled.

So if I make an emergency happen I can come here?

“Don’t!” you yelled too quickly when you heard his thoughts.

His smirk grew wider.

I knew it. You can read minds.

It wasn’t a question but a statement. You froze. Your ability was precious to the police so you were instructed to keep it a secret. As for your personal life, many friends got awkward around you when they found out you could read their minds in the past, so you had learned to control your expressions and behavior so people couldn’t even suspect you knew what was going on in their heads. People didn’t like having someone in their heads. It was invasive, embarrassing,...

“Perfect,” Yuta said out loud this time. “That will make things easier.”

But Yuta didn’t seem to mind it.

“W-what?” you stuttered.

“You’ll know I mean everything I say.”

“...So what?”

“So you can trust me.”

“Trust you?” you scoffed and started walking away, but he quickly followed your steps and walked next to you.

“Can’t build a relationship without trust, can you?” he said casually.

“There’s no relationship between us.”

“Yet.”

“Listen,” you stopped right before the gate and turned to look at him. “You’re not my type.”

“Too bad. You’re totally my type,” he countered.

“Sounds like a you problem,” you said between gritted teeth.

Yuta laughed and the sound was endearing. “I’m afraid it’s very much your problem too.”

You gulped. “Meaning…?”

“I’m a man who knows what he wants,” he said staring at your lips.

And I don’t stop until I get it.

You glared at him, hoping he didn’t see the way your body shivered.

You know what I want right now?

You didn’t even need to read his mind to know the answer. The way he was staring at your lips and closing the distance between you told you all you needed to know.

“Officer L/N,” Seungcheol’s voice called for you. “All good over here?”

Thank god. Seungcheol had arrived to start his shift as well.

“All good,” you grumbled as Seungcheol stood in between you two, facing Yuta.

“How are you doing? Is your rut over?” Seungcheol asked.

Yuta nodded, his eyes still finding you behind your colleague’s figure. “Yeah, I’m fine now.”

“That’s good,” Seungcheul replied politely. “It was nice to see you but I can’t let you past this gate unless you have an emergency to report.”

“Right…” Yuta sighed.

Gotta cause some trouble first then, huh?

You glared at him over Seungcheol’s shoulder and shook your head. Even if Yuta couldn’t read minds he knew you didn’t want him to do that.

Unless you let me see you after your shift…

You rolled your eyes and got ready to walk away.

Got it. It’s been a while since the last time I broke into private property. I’ll see you after–

“My shift finishes at 8,” you blurted out suddenly. Or at least for Seungcheol, it was sudden; he had no idea about the mental conversation you had just had with Yuta.

“Great,” Yuta chuckled. “I’ll pick you up then,” he declared, before waving both of you goodbye.

“Uh…” Seungcheol hesitated as you two entered the police station. “Are you two…?

“No,” you said firmly. “I’ll just meet him once and tell him I’m not interested.”

“...You’re not interested?”

“Of course not!” you exclaimed and got irritated when Seungcheol just stared at you blankly. “He’s definitely not what I look for in a man.”

“You could have just told him that earlier.”

“I did! He’s just so stubborn–”

“So instead you agreed to go on a date with him?” Seungcheol scoffed, mocking you. “Sure, not interested at all…”

“It is not a date.”

“Mhm…”

“Seungcheol!”

“Whatever you say, Y/N,” he winked at you, before going into his office.

Time went by incredibly fast during your shift and you became more anxious as the clock got close to announcing 8PM. You collected your stuff slowly, kind of hoping if you took long enough Yuta would get bored and leave (if he even was out there waiting), but when you dragged your feet to the main gate you were met with his easygoing expression, like you hadn’t made him wait for almost half an hour.

“Tough day, officer?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, as you can tell I’m a busy person. Just go ahead and say what you have to say.”

“Sure,” Yuta said offering you a…helmet? “We should get going then.”

It was then that you noticed that this time, instead of the wall, he was leaning against a motorcycle. You looked at the helmet in your hands and then at Yuta who was swiftly getting on the motorcycle and patting the seat behind him, indicating for you to follow.

“Absolutely not,” you deadpanned.

“I thought you were in a hurry,” Yuta feigned confusion.

“Let’s just talk here.”

“Oh, alright, if you don’t mind your coworkers hearing that you triggered my rut and I spent days thinking about–”

You shrieked and quickly covered his mouth with your palms.

—you. I spent all these days thinking about you, and I know you’ve thought about me too.

You blushed and looked around. Some of your coworkers were leaving and waved at you in a friendly manner. You waved back. This was not something you wanted them to hear. So you put on the damn helmet and sat behind Yuta, trying to keep some distance between your bodies.

“You need to hold onto me,” Yuta said when he noticed your hands barely holding onto the edge of the seat behind you.

“You wish,” you spat back.

“I do,” he agreed. “But also, you’ll fly off otherwise. I don’t want you injured on our first date.”

“This is not a date—” you wanted to argue with him but as soon as you heard him starting the engine you panicked and your arms surrounded his torso automatically.

Yuta’s body tensed when he felt your body so close to his and then he released a long breath.

So warm…

You barely hear his thoughts over the sound of the motorcycle, but you were thinking the exact same thing: he was so warm. You gripped his clothes tightly as the vehicle started moving.

Just like that. Don’t let go.

You tried to let the wind hitting the helmet drown the sound of his thoughts but they were so loud, by the time you arrived at your destination you were dizzy, a blushing mess and your heart was beating hard and fast against his back.

“Officer L/N?” you heard him call your name. “We’re here. You can let go now.”

…Or don’t. I don’t mind staying like this.

Immediately, you pulled away from him and jumped out of the bike, your hands flying to fix your skirt which had ridden up your thighs, ignoring Yuta’s charming (annoying) laugh.

“What is this place?” you asked, looking around.

There was no one around besides Yuta and you. All you saw was the road, the forest and… a view of the whole city. You gasped out loud; even if it was a small city, with no big skyscrapers, the city lights still shone like a kaleidoscope contrasting the dark sky. You had asked to be transferred to work and live in a small town, away from all the noise and stress that the capital city had made you deal with. Since you moved to this town, you were glad that crime was low, people (humans, and non-human creatures alike) were mostly kind and you had a calm life…but you hadn’t paid proper attention to the beauty this city had to offer.

Speechless you turned around to look at Yuta, whose dark eyes were reflecting the city view. But he was looking at you, leaning forward while still sitting on his bike, his head resting on his arms lazily.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

And that was exactly what you were thinking about him. But you wouldn’t say it out loud.

“I asked you where we are,” you said firmly.

“My favorite place,” the werewolf said as he reached for the rear suitcase and unpacked whatever he had brought with him. “Cool view, huh?”

“Why did you bring me here?” you asked him in an irritated tone, not wanting to admit that the view was the most beautiful thing you had seen in a while.

“To spend time with you,” he replied as if it was obvious, as he laid down a blanket on the grass and placed several food containers on it.

“Is this…a picnic?”

“Yes.”

That was surprisingly…sweet. Not something you would expect from the werewolf in the leather jacket who rides a motorcycle around town. You kind of hoped your future partner would take you on cute little dates like this one. But Yuta was not in those plans.

“Nakamoto.”

“Hm?” he looked up at you, giving you his full attention. Your heart beat a bit faster when your eyes met but you had to stand your ground.

“I’m not going to date you.”

He narrowed his eyes, a glint of amusement in them. Then he hummed and went back to arranging the food. “You already are.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know I’m interested in you, yet you let me pick you up from work and take you for a ride at night. Now we are alone in a place that looks like a movie scene, about to eat food I made for you. Tell me that’s not a date.”

Well it did sound like a date when he said it like that, but you never agreed to that. “I’m going back.”

“Oh, yeah? You gonna walk all the way back to town in those heels?” he challenged you. “There are no other cars around the area, and phone reception sucks up here.”

You looked at your phone and confirmed that you wouldn’t be able to get in touch with anyone. The place looked deserted too. “You’re a psychopath.”

Yuta laughed out loud. This was the loudest and most cheerful you had heard him laugh before and it was quite cute how he threw his head back and his mouth opened wide, displaying his perfect smile without trying to look elegant at all. His laugh sounded so pure.

“I haven’t heard that one before,” he admitted when he calmed down, still giggling a little. “I didn’t plan to trap you here. I just wanted to take you somewhere nice and get to know you better, and I thought you might be hungry so I prepared something to eat. That’s all.”

As if waiting for the sign, your stomach growled loudly. How embarrassing.

“When was the last time you ate?” Yuta asked, a hint of concern noticeable in his voice.

“Uh, not sure…” you admitted. “Our shifts are a bit unpredictable sometimes.”

Yuta sighed. “Just eat with me? I’ll take you back right after. I promise. You can read my mind if you want.”

You rolled your eyes but let out a tired laugh. You didn’t even need to read the mind of someone who was such an open book. You finally sat down in front of him and looked at the food in front of you. “So, what do we have here?”

The Japanese straightened his back and started presenting you with a variety of food. “So, some of these may have gone a bit cold by now but we have here some yakisoba, this is sushi that should be eaten at room temperature so this is a perfect time… or if you are a vegetarian, you can try vegetable fried rice…or if you’re not into any of this stuff I prepared some sandwiches,” he rambled, looking a bit nervous for the first time since you met him.

“Did you make all this yourself?” you asked him.

“Yeah,” Yuta bit his lip nervously. “I’m not a chef but it should be edible.”

“You could have just bought some snacks.”

“I guess I could have but… I know that when people work a lot they end up eating just whatever and I wanted you to have a proper home-cooked meal…”

Another surprisingly sweet gesture from Yuta Nakamoto. It was so thoughtful and it probably took him hours in the kitchen. For you. Well, you were starving so why not give it a try?

You reached for the utensils he had placed in front of you and tried food from the container closest to you, under his expecting eyes.

It was delicious. If he wasn’t a chef then he should consider becoming one.

“...Not bad,” you commented like it wasn’t the best meal you’d had in months.

Yuta bit back a smile and started eating too. He didn’t miss the way your eyes sparkled and you almost sighed when trying his food, so he was incredibly proud of himself.

The more you ate the more you let your guard down, allowing Yuta to ask you simple questions about your hobbies, life, and general preferences. He also answered any question you had for him quite openly.

He kept his promise and took you home after. He didn’t try anything on you, but he did show up every Friday evening to pick you up from your shift. No matter how annoyed you were or pretended to be, each time you showed less resistance to getting on the bike, and you had stopped making plans for Friday night, knowing he would be waiting for you. Not that you would tell anyone this, but you were counting the minutes for your shift to end to see him again.

You enjoyed your time together until it was time to address the elephant in the room.

“This was fun…” you trailed off.

“But?” Yuta asked, knowing you were about to find an excuse.

“I have…plans, you know?” you sighed. “A reckless werewolf I met in the interrogation room imprinting on me is not part of my plans at all.”

“In my defense, I wasn’t supposed to be interrogated in the first place,” he said. “But I’m glad it happened.”

You sighed again. “You can’t give me what I want.”

“How do you know that?” he murmured. He was looking at you, but you didn’t dare meet his eyes, looking at the city view instead.

“I want calm. I want domestic,” you replied, frustrated and a bit tired.

“But you also want me,” he said.

“Nakamoto…”

“Can we stop calling each other by our last names?” he was starting to sound frustrated too. “We’re not strangers, Y/N.”

He was right. That was just your childish way of keeping some distance between you two.

“...Can you drop me home now?” you finally asked, not wanting to continue this conversation.

Yuta glared at you.

Won’t you even look at me?

You didn’t.

He scoffed.

As you wish.

The ride back was silent. You tried to get into his head and hear whatever he was thinking about, but he was thinking in his native language, blocking you indirectly. Since you met, he had tried to think in a language you would understand, giving you complete access to his head and heart, but you had hurt him. You didn’t get to read his thoughts if you weren’t capable of opening yourself up to him in return.

“Thank you,” you grumbled when you arrived at your destination, giving him the helmet back.

“You’re welcome,” he said dryly.

“You don’t have to pick me up from work next week,” you added.

“Gotcha,” he simply said, like he didn’t care. It angered you, but it was what you wanted, wasn’t it? So you didn’t say anything else and watched him leave. For the first time, he didn’t wait until you got into your house.

Did you regret it as soon as you reached your bed? Yes. Your chest felt tight and your eyes stung like you wanted to cry.

Would you do something to fix it? No. Because you were a coward, afraid of such an unconventional man, no matter how kind and lovely he was, approaching you and telling you he wanted to stay with you for life.

And he indeed didn’t pick you up the next week. When you finished your shift and left the station, no one was waiting there for you. Why would there be? You had told the poor guy to leave you alone, and he did. Perfect.

Just perfect.

But for some reason, you still cried yourself to sleep that night and woke up in the morning to a call from Seungcheol.

“Hello?” you groaned, rubbing your eyes sleepily.

“Hey, Y/N, no time for small talk,” Seungcheol said from the other side of the line. “I know you don’t work today but I really really think you should come.”

“W-why? What’s wrong?” you asked, very confused, but all these years of work had your body getting out of bed and getting ready automatically.

“Don’t panic,” he said now in a more calming tone. “What matter’s that no one got hurt–”

“What happened?!”

“Just come to my office!” he said before he hung up the phone.

You basically run to work, your feet hurting on your heels, your uniform all wrinkled, and your hair a mess, not even bothering to tie it up and look appropriate. You nervously greeted your coworkers and went straight into Seungcheol’s office.

“Seungcheol–”

“Finally!” he sighed, letting you in and locking the door behind him. “It’s gonna be okay, nobody else knows–”

“Know what?! Can you please give me some context?” you hissed nervously.

Seungcheol inhaled. “Do you know where your boyfriend was last night?”

“My what?!”

“Your boyfriend?” he repeated, now sounding as confused as you. “The Japanese one?”

“He’s not my boyfriend–”

“What do you mean? You guys have been dating for— it doesn’t matter. Just take a look at this,” he said, pointing at his laptop screen.

You got closer to his desk and watched the screen where security footage of some type of store was playing. You were about to ask what all this was about when you saw a familiar face entering the store and going through the product shelves urgently.

“Yuta…” you whispered.

In the video, the man opened a few jars, straight up drank the content of some of them, and emptied others in a bottle he was carrying. After a few minutes, he made a pained expression and bent down on the floor before he passed out.

You were holding your breath, your own body hurting at seeing him like that. Seungcheol skipped some parts of the video until someone who worked in the store discovered Yuta, who stood up and left, looking disoriented.

“This is the apothecary near the beach,” Seungcheol said. “The store owner won’t present charges because he didn’t actually steal. Apparently, he left cash on the counter for the stuff he took. The door wasn’t damaged either. It’s like he has experience breaking in.”

“W-why did he…. Oh, god,” you sighed.

“I checked his house. His pack hasn’t seen him since yesterday,” Seungcheol continued. “Any idea where he could be?”

“No…wait! Maybe—... I’m not sure,” you answered vaguely.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Seungcheol asked.

“No,” you said more firmly this time. “I think I’ll be fine by myself.”

“Okay,” Seungcheol agreed, passing you the patrol car keys. He could tell that something had happened between the two of you and that he should let you solve things by yourself. “But let me know of any updates. If you can’t find him by the end of the day his pack will file a missing report.”

“I’ll find him,” you assured him. He had to be at that place. The place where you had most of your dates. So that’s where you went.

And there he was, sitting on the grass and looking at the sunset over the city, in the same place where you had the most fun and heart whelming moments the last couple of months. You managed to send one last message to Seungcheol letting him know you had found Yuta before your phone service abandoned you.

Yuta looked at you getting off the car over his shoulder and went back to look into the sunset.

“Good evening, Officer L/N,” he said sarcastically.

You grimaced. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

You sighed and sat down next to him. He didn’t spare you a glance, just reached for his thermos bottle and filled his cup with tea.

“What happened yesterday?” you asked.

“Many things…”

“Okay…,” you nodded. “Why did you break into the apothecary?”

“I was in pain,” he said, grabbing another little cup from beside him and filling it with tea before offering it to you.

“What type of pain?” You accepted the cup, glad that he was somehow communicating with you. “Are you sick?”

“No, not sick,” he said raising his cup towards yours as if there was anything to cheer to.

“Then why were you in pain?” You clinked your cup with his and drank the tea, shuddering at the contrast between the warm beverage and the cool breeze caressing your face.

“My wolf was acting up…” he murmured, refilling both your cups. “I think he got used to seeing you every Friday and when it became late at night and didn’t have you near, he thought that starting an early rut would make me go find you,” he laughed bitterly and drank some more. “I really wanted to see you, but you told me not to, so I went to buy something for the pain instead but it was closed. It really fucking hurt so I entered anyways…Well, let me finish my tea before you arrest me.”

“You’re not under arrest. The owner won’t present charges,” you said. “I was just worried about you.”

“Why?” he asked, looking at you drink your second cup of tea.

“Because I care about you,” you admitted almost too easily.

“Then why do you push me away?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m kinda scared,” you said. “This whole imprinting thing…I didn’t see it coming.”

“That’s valid,” he sighed. “Did you at least enjoy hanging out with me?”

“It was the highlight of my week,” you giggled. “I loved it.”

“I’m glad,” he murmured before he winced in pain.

“What’s wrong?” you asked worriedly, placing a hand on his back. You could feel the heat radiating through his shirt.

“Told you,” he groaned. “Early rut.”

“You–...you’re in rut right now?!”

“Were you not listening earlier?” he laughed half-heartedly.

“I was! I just didn’t— fuck, okay, let’s take you home,” you said urgently, pulling his arm and making him stand up.

He let you guide him to the car and get him in the back seat without resistance. He focused on your face instead, like you were fascinating to look at and he had all the time in the world (which wasn’t the case; you had to get him back to town as soon as possible).

“Where are we going?” He asked tiredly as he let you lay him down.

“The hospital,” you said firmly. “Or wherever you can take care of your… uh, state,” you pointed at his body vaguely and then you gulped.

Did he really need to look this good in such a critical moment? Leaning on his forearms, with his legs slightly spread, his messy hair sticking to his forehead and nape, and his lidded eyes scanning your body.

“I like your hair today,” he casually said.

You clicked your tongue.“I didn’t have much time to get ready.”

“You look so hot. I want you so bad…”

You stopped trying to push his feet in the car and looked up to meet his reddened eyes.

Come here.

“I-...I have to drive,” you stuttered, trying to push him back when he leaned toward you.

He grabbed your arm before you could make your way to the driver's seat.

“We’re not gonna make it,” he simply mumbled. “It’s a long way to town…I won’t be able to resist you.”

“Then don’t,” you said simply and then you gasped, your hand flying to cover your mouth. Did you really just say that?

“Is that so?” Yuta purred while his fingers caressed your arm. “Officer L/N wants me to fuck her?”

You rolled your eyes, ready to tell him that you were not interested but instead what exited your mouth was: “Of course I do– shit!”

Now you covered your mouth with both hands. What the hell? What were you saying?

You looked at Yuta with wide eyes, but he didn’t seem surprised; if anything he looked smug.

Wait…

The tea.

“Did you put something in the tea?” you asked him angrily.

“Serum of truth,” he said shamelessly, pulling your body closer to his firmly so now you were in the car too, lying on top of him, your hands resting on the door behind his head.

“W-what?!” you shrieked. So that’s why you were saying everything you felt out loud. “Where did you get it? It’s not available in any store–”

“I made it myself,” he said, as his hands caressed your face. “Last night in the apothecary.”

“Y-you!” now you were furious. “Regular citizens can’t administrate the serum of truth. Ever!”

“What are you gonna do about it, hmm?” he cooed. “Call the police?”

“Uugh,” you groaned. You hated the guy. Except you didn’t.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting me, officer,” Yuta assured you. “I want you too. I have had the best orgasms since I started thinking about you when touching myself.”

“Shut up!” you yelped, now covering his mouth with your hands.

Thought about fucking you in this skirt.

Giving it to you so hard you would drop the fucking attitude.

“Oh my god,” you whined.

Have you thought about me too? You looked away. Embarrassed.

I bet you have. I could smell how wet you were the day we met.

…Shit I can smell it now too.

“Nakamoto,” you warned him but it sounded like a plea.

He hummed against your hands, deciding there was no reason for him not to use his hands on you too. He grabbed the back of your thighs and pulled them to have you sitting on his crotch in a swift motion. You gasped as your skirt rode up and you could feel his hard member pulsating against you in spite of the remaining layers of clothing between you.

Did it feel good?

Touching yourself with these beautiful hands, imagining it was me?

He kissed your palms and fingers lovingly like he was praising them for a job well done.

“S-so good…” you admitted in a tiny voice.

Yuta groaned, sending vibrations to your hands and then biting your finger playfully, finally making you release his mouth with a yelp.

“That should have been me touching you,” he grumbled, grabbing your hips and pressing you against his hard. “Why play hard to get if you were getting off to me anyways? So you kept going on dates with me, telling me you weren’t into me every time, just to go home and fuck yourself with these tiny fingers?”

You bit your lip, refusing to give him an answer and also because you were sure any sound escaping your mouth right now would be embarrassingly pathetic with the way his clothed crotch was rubbing against yours.

When you kept looking away he grabbed your face with his hand and made you face him. “Who do you think of when you fuck yourself?” he growled.

He seemed to think you were taking a little too long to reply because his other hand landed on your ass cheek loud and hard. You gasped and your hands grabbed onto his wrinkled shirt.

“I asked you a question,” he insisted when you only gasped and hissed instead of offering a proper answer.

“Answer me,” he breathed against your lips, his tone low and demanding, slapping your ass even harder twice. “Who were you thinking about?”

“Y-you!” you finally yelped. “I imagined it w-was you… every time…”

And with that, Yuta’s lips were immediately on yours, kissing you softly but firmly, letting out little pained whines. He honestly had no idea how he spent months seeing you without doing this before. It was like the tension was finally leaving his body.

You kissed him back nervously. You still couldn’t quite comprehend that you were finally giving in and allowing your body and heart to do what they really wanted. Then you felt the same hands that had slapped you gently massaging the mistreated area.

We’re done playing games. You’re mine now.

You moaned and he nipped at your bottom lip and slid his tongue into your mouth, licking and sucking eagerly and making it hard to keep up with him.

You want that? Want me to make you mine?

“Y-yeah,” you barely breathed out as he kissed your jaw. And damn, the stupid serum was still making you admit to the most embarrassing things. “But–”

But you want calm and domestic.

He fixated on your neck, biting and licking.

And you think I can’t give you that?

“N-nakamoto…”

If you like my last name that much you can have it.

What do you say? I really like the sound of Y/N Nakamoto.

“Fuck…,” you sighed. He seemed to have found his favorite spot on your neck, sucking like he couldn’t get enough.

Say it. Say you want to be mine.

You finally gave in. “P-please…–Ah!”

And then you felt a sharp sting on the same spot he had been sucking on. He moaned as his fangs pierced your skin, one of his hands holding you by your nape while his other arm circled your waist. Your neck started tingling; a funny sensation that soon spread until reaching your toes and making them curl.

“Taste so good,” he whispered against your neck.

You whined, gripping his clothes desperately, to the point he could probably feel your nails digging into his skin through the fabric. Your body was tickling all over like you were being caressed with feathers and it felt frustrating. You needed something, but you didn’t know what. Your body seemed to have a clear idea though, your hips moving slowly against Yuta’s.

He let go of your neck, kissing your lips sweetly before looking down where your bodies were moving in synch. He let out a heavy sigh and placed his hands on your ass, helping you move.

“It’s– It’s not…” you mumbled, letting out a frustrated whimper.

“Hmm?” he asked, unable to look away from the tent in his pants digging into your wet underwear, having pulled your skirt to your waist.

“It’s n-not enough,” you finally said.

“Agreed,” he grumbled. His hands flew toward his jeans, unbuttoning them and lowering the zipper clumsily.

Your lust-driven brain made it hard for you to think clearly, but you understood what was important: those jeans needed to go. So you lifted your lower body to give him some space to undress himself, but he growled.

“Where the fuck are you going?” he asked, pulling his pants and boxers down hastily, just enough to free his reddened cock. His thighs would probably hurt with the way the fabric would cut the circulation but he couldn’t care less right now. He wanted your warmth back on him. “Get back here.”

“Wanna take these off…” you trailed off as you pointed at your panties, trying to untangle yourself from him in such a small space.

“Later,” he breathed out, bringing your body closer to his again. “Can’t wait.”

He pulled your panties to the side and positioned your hips right over his until your pussy was pressed against his member resting on his lower abdomen.

“O-oh god,” you whined, as the head of his cock rubbed against your clit. “It’s so warm…”

“So wet,” he groaned at the same time. His shaky hands caressed your waist as you started moving experimentally, gliding against his cock. He let out a choked moan. “F-fuck!”

He reached for your shirt and unbuttoned it hurriedly, lowering it down your shoulders and pulling your bra down as you continued moving back and forward. He sighed at the sight of your uncovered breasts, and let the tip of his tongue tease one of your nipples.

I’ve been wanting to taste these tits for so long.

The same nipple got engulfed in the warmth of his mouth as he sucked hard.

“Ah— Haa….” you moaned, arching your back.

Faster.

You obeyed, grinding harder and faster, feeling your climax building up as a knot in your stomach. “I’m close….Oh!”

He hummed but his mouth was too occupied toying with your breasts to speak. Luckily he didn’t need to speak out loud for you to hear him.

Me too, beautiful.

Your taste’s driving me fucking crazy.

Can’t wait to taste all of you…

You gasped and a shiver ran up your spine. “O-oh fuck…”

May I?

Can I eat your pussy?

Your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open, your movements turning desperate as you pressed your clit against the head of his cock.

Tell me I can, beautiful.

His tone was pleading, like he didn’t know you would say yes to anything he asked.

Yeah? Can I?

Opening his eyes to look up at your face, he stuck the tip of his tongue out and flicked your hardened nipple quickly, no doubt imitating the way he would toy with your clit. All you had to do was say…

“YES! Yes, y-yes, fuck! Yuta, yes!” you screamed. Your body convulsed on top of his, covering his dick with your release.

He finally let go of your sore nipples, looking at your orgasmic expression in awe.

Suddenly he grabbed your hips and started thrusting up rapidly.

“S-shit, Y/N…,” he gulped. “Feels t-too fucking good I…Ah! I can’t—,” his words were interrupted by a gasp, and then his body tensed as spurts of cum tainted his wrinkled shirt.

He lay on his back and you collapsed on top of him, both of you panting tiredly.

“...You called me by my name,” Yuta whispered.

You pushed against his pecs to lift yourself a little, looking at his delighted expression. He looked like it was Christmas and he had received the most precious of gifts.

You tried not to smile. “Really? Among all the things that just happened, you’re happy that I said your first name?”

“Mhmm…it makes me really happy,” he agreed, surrounding you with his arms. “Plus, you didn’t just say my name. You screamed it.”

You cleared your throat, embarrassed. “I should d-drive us back now…” you mumbled, trying to stand up, but before you could even blink you were on your back on the leather seat with Yuta sitting between your legs.

“Not yet,” he said, taking your panties off handily. “Wanna taste you.”

If you were on a proper bed, he would lie down on his stomach easily, but the back seat of the car was too small for that. He knew it wasn’t the most appropriate place for mating, but he just couldn’t wait another 25-30 minutes until you were back in the city. It didn’t matter if the position wasn’t ideal; he had to taste you now.

“Y-yuta?! Wha—” you yelped when your hips were raised by his strong hands, leaving only your upper back, neck, and head resting on the seat.

He hovered over you and pulled your hips closer to his face, placing your legs over his shoulders and burying his face between them with no hesitation.

“FUCK! Yuta– Aaaah!” your hands reached for his head and pulled his hair. “W-wait!”

You said I could.

He hummed, sending vibrations through your body as he made out with your pussy.

“I did but–” your legs kicked the roof of the car as a reflex when he sucked on your clit. “B-but not like t-this…”

Why not?

You’re fucking delicious.

And you’re all mine.

“This p-position is…Oh! It’s too embarrassing…” you whined. Your uniform was wrinkled around your waist, tits and pussy exposed as he bent you in such a scandalous and vulnerable way.

Don’t be embarrassed.

Never with me.

You’re perfect.

Yuta’s tongue circled your entrance slowly and your hands went from his hair to your reddened face, trying to cover your flustered expression.

What’s wrong?

The tip of his tongue slid in. You whined.

Doesn’t it feel good?

He went in deeper, rolling his eyes at the way your walls contracted against the wet muscle.

“Ah!” you squirmed, but he held you firmly, fucking you with his tongue.

Tell me, beautiful.

I need to know

He knew damn well it felt good, especially with the way his nose was rubbing your clit. You wished you could be mad at him, but then one of his hands left your hips to look for your breasts, grabbing and massaging.

Do you like it?

“Fuck! I- I love it ah– aaahh!” you moaned and your hands went back to his head when he started licking your clit again.

Me too.

I fucking love everything about you.

“Yuta, oh g-god…” you panted and your eyes rolled back when his tongue circled your clit.

Wanted to do this for so long.

Since the first time I saw you.

Wanted to eat you out on the table I was handcuffed to at the station.

Didn’t care if everyone saw.

You just smelled so good I knew you would taste like heaven.

“I’m g-gonna cum—fuck, Yuta I– Ah! Oooh!” your legs started shaking around his head.

Cum for me, beautiful.

You tensed in his arms and the tip of his tongue flicked your clit torturously fast, bringing you to another orgasm. You moaned embarrassingly loud and pushed his head closer to your center, much to his delight. His arms circled your hips and secured you in your place as he drank your release, only letting go when you became a trembling mess.

“Does your neck hurt?” Yuta’s voice asked, raspier than usual, taking you out of your post-release bliss.

“It will surely hurt tomorrow,” you complained weakly.

“Sorry, Y/N. I’ll give you a massage later,” he promised. “I just couldn’t find a better way…”

“Didn’t think of 69ing?” You asked tiredly.

“Oh,” Yuta hesitated for a moment and then laughed. “No, I didn’t think about it. That would have been good too…”

You snorted. His brain really was consumed by his rut. It was better to take him home soon. The sky was already dark so it was probably getting late. “How about we get back now–Yuta!” you gasped when you felt his hardened member gliding against your sensitive pussy lips lazily.

“Once. Let me knot you just once and we can go,” he answered, pressing his hips against yours. But he used all his remaining self-control to halt his movements and look into your eyes. “Unless you really don’t want this…”

When you first found out he had given you serum of truth you were angry, but the more you thought about it, the more fair it seemed. You had access to his thoughts all the time. You knew his real feelings and intentions but refused to communicate honestly. He had been at a disadvantage the entire time, being so open about everything but never getting a single word out of you. Now you couldn’t lie to him. And that was fine. You didn’t want to. If anything it felt relieving to say everything you thought finally.

“I want it,” you said. “I want you.”

Yuta gulped. “Yeah? You sure?”

You reached for his shirt and helped him take it off before you lay back on your back. Your hands wandered over his body, caressing his defined chest and abs, and your fingers traced the outline of a butterfly tattoo on his stomach. His eyes were trained in your hands touching all of him, and he didn’t notice when you lifted your hips slightly, pressing your crotch against his aching cock and he let out a shaky moan, his body bending forward and caging you on the seat.

“I’m sure,” you said, cupping his face and kissing his lips.

He kissed you back eagerly, licking and nibbling your lips until the burning sensation of his cock entering you made you gasp. He looked into your eyes as he went deeper. When he finally was all the way in his eyebrows furrowed and he hid his face into the crook of your neck, kissing the bite mark he had left earlier. For a moment he wasn’t able to speak, panting heavily and shaking, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was feeling.

Fuck…

So tight…

This is so…

I’ve never felt…

…Y/N.

His thoughts were a mess and all that left his mouth as he thrust into you were soft moans.

“I’m s-so full…” you whispered, lost in the sensation of Yuta stretching you over and over.

Your voice seemed to bring enough strength to him to use his voice. “Yeah?” he grunted, pulling out until only the tip remained inside and then ramming into you harshly, rolling his eyes back and basking in your moans. “I’ll keep you full, beautiful.”

Your head was swimming. All you could do was nod and moan in response to his hips speeding up. He felt so hard and hot inside of you. You may have said that out loud. And you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed right now.

“D-don’t stop,” you begged him.

He kisses your lips softly before sitting up, holding your hips in his hands. “Wasn’t planning to…” he sighed and slammed back into you, his movements becoming so forceful that the car was shaking, and anyone who saw it from the outside would know what was happening immediately.

I’m not gonna last… Fuck.

“Yuta, I’m c-close too…so close,” you whispered. “Just a little bit more.”

Yuta’s fingers dig into the skin of your hips, fucking you as hard and fast as he can. For a minute you feel him deep inside of you you couldn't breathe and then there was something bigger trying to push in and stretch you even more. “Aaah! AH! YUTA!”

“You’re taking it so well, Y/N,” he said firmly although his voice was a bit shaky. “My knot is almost in.”

“It’s even bigger…,” you mumbled nervously. “Maybe it won’t fit.”

Yuta kissed your lips. And one of his hands found your clit. “It will fit. We are mates. Our bodies are meant to fit perfectly.”

He massaged your clit and kissed you, and once he noticed you were not as tense as before, he pushed his knot inside right in time for the endless spurts of cum that came out of his cock, pressing insistently against your most sensitive area and making you feel even fuller.

“FUCK! OH, FUCK Y/N! Aaahh… shit oh!” he moaned, never stopping his hips movements.

Yuta’s hand still hadn’t left your clit, determined to get one more orgasm out of you. He used his thumb to rub the sensitive nub in fast circles that soon had you trembling.

“Yuta— Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod…ah…AH! Ooooh fuck, fuck, Aah!!”

Your body trembled, trapped by the werewolf’s skilled hands as he caressed your hair and kissed your face, giving you the sweetest compliments to help you come back to reality.

Somehow, Yuta managed to be back on his back with you laying on top of him. He kissed your forehead and caressed your body.

Both of you fell into a comfortable silence again. When you heard Yuta let out a breathless laugh you were going to ask him what he was thinking about, but you could hear it very well.

When I said ‘fuck the police’…

I didn’t think I would do it literally.

You hit his arm. “Yuta!”

And in a patrol car of all places hahah

His laugh became contagious and soon both of you were laughing out loud.

When you both calmed down you spoke again.

“When your knot deflates we’ll go back to the city, okay?”

“Mhmm, thank you for coming for me, Y/N…”

“How did you know I would come?”

“I didn’t… but I hoped you would.”

You hummed and caressed his chest.

“What are you thinking about,” He suddenly asked. It was his turn to be curious.

“Just… about everything. This really wasn’t in my plans, but maybe it’s not a bad idea to change my life plan.”

“You don’t have to change anything,” he said. “You want stability, romanticism, domestic life with your partner… I can give you that.”

“Can you?” you asked hopefully, but not wanting to put too much pressure on him.

“Of course. I am economically and emotionally stable, all the dates I’ve planned for us were romantic because I am a romantic myself, and I imagine a domestic life with you in which we both help out in the house or I become your house-husband while you catch the bad guys. Whichever you prefer.”

You giggled “So the werewolf in the leather jacket has a soft spot.”

He snorted. “Shut up! I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Just wait and see, Officer L/N”

#nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #nakamoto yuta #yuta nct #yuta smut #nakamoto yuta x reader #nakamoto yuta smut

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grimmylilsunshine · 3 months

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Grim/Casper x GN!Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff and silliness.

❤️💀 Morning Routines 🌻❤️

Some headcanons on how mornings usually go while living with Casper now in the world of the living. lol

Reader isn't a morning person or first to wake up:

If you're not a morning person, Casper is the first to wake up and prepare breakfast for you. He'll make it his job to make sure you eat properly every day. Whether you like it or not. (tough love, my loves lol)

Then he'll try to coax you out of bed finally with sweet words and kisses. But if that fails, expect him to just pull off the covers and open the curtains to make the sun hit you directly.

If that that still doesn't work, he'll just give up and let you sleep a little longer. Though will be running his fingers through your hair and lightly caressing your face. Just watching you sleep a bit, while feeling grateful he took the risk of not taking your soul after all.

Reader is a morning person and is first to wake up:

If you happen to be a morning person and wake up easily/first, then you might struggle getting out of bed because of Casper.

He'll very often now be clinging to you in his sleep. Using you as his new cuddle buddy to sleep with, but sometimes Azrael(his plush) is between you and him. (He might say Azrael NEEDS to be in bed with you both. Else he'll be sad lol)

He might complain, even threaten you if you try to leave bed and his side. You might have to just fight for freedom, or give in and sleep a little longer with him until your second alarm goes off. That wakes both of you up finally.

There might be times you do sneak out of bed however, only because you replaced yourself with Azrael. Maybe it'll work too well, by how he just snuggles more into him, and mutter out "I love how soft you feel~..." before falling into a deep sleep again.

Same after routines for either above options:

Skin care is a HUGE MUST for Casper now. He'll spend a long time(hour or so) getting himself ready for the day, even if he might not go out. And drag you into this routine of his too...(Especially if you just use soap and water as your skin care routine.)

If you complain, or try to fight back. He'll try to offer you something as a reward if you obey him this one time today, and for being a good mortal again. (kisses, a date, whatever your heart desires...He might regret this later though if your desire is huge. pff)

Usually Casper does his own hair, but he'll let you brush it and style it however you like now. (If it's not too wild on style that is to the point he says "No, Sunshine.")

And he'll do the same in return for you. But if he sees your hair is damaged, or in need of much care from not being taken care of. Expect hair care to be added to the skin care routine now.

It started off with one plant, but soon enough you practically have a little garden in your place now. Which Casper and you both take care and raise of together. You both make it a ritual now to tend to them every morning. (closest thing to a soul baby right now lol)

If you don't go out to work for that day, or it's just a day off in general. You two will often go on a morning stroll out together. Either to a park, a little coffee shop, public gardens people can visit, etc. Just going out together to make memories with you is a huge must now for Casper. (Bonus: Up to you if you take pictures together and make a little photo album or such if you want.)

This could happen before or after your possible morning date together, but most chores around the house are done early than later. Whether you like to do them or not, Casper will try to keep the place looking clean and in order for the both of you.

#I had more on mind to write but mind just hit a wall. so have this for now. lol #a date with death #a date with death casper #a date with death grim #a date with death mc #a date with death headcanons #grim x mc #grim x reader #grim x y/n #grim x you #casper x you #casper x mc #casper x reader #casper x y/n

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mattitties · 3 months

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sworn enemy - matt sturniolo

I don’t have many enemies in my life. I try to get along with most people, and even if I don’t like them, I do my best to be friendly no matter what. But there’s one person that I absolutely cannot stand: Matt Sturniolo.

I moved to LA about six months ago, and the triplets were some of the first people I met. I got close with Nick first, then Chris, and I attempted to get close with Matt, but he was so closed off and became outwardly rude to me every interaction we had. I have no idea why he hates me so much, but I will not tolerate him giving me that kind of attitude for no reason when I’ve tried to be his friend.

So I don’t try anymore. I’m over at their house more than I’m at mine, and I’ve gotten to the point of completely ignoring that asshole when he comes into the room. Is it rude to ignore someone in their own home? Sure, but none of this would be happening if he didn’t make it abundantly clear from day one that he has no interest in being my friend.

Nick and Chris invited me over tonight to watch a movie, so of course I accepted. Despite everything with Matt, I absolutely adore Nick and Chris and would never turn down an opportunity to spend time with them.

“Helloooo,” I say when I walk into the living room, where they’re already setting up the movie.

“Hey!” Nick smiles as he gives me a hug. “Movie’s almost ready, you wanna get some snacks?”

I nod and head to the kitchen, saying hello to Chris in the process. I’m so invested in rummaging through their fridge that I don’t even notice Matt walk into the room until he groans.

“Oh joy, look who’s here!” he says as I turn around.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bother you,” I tell him as I grab some drinks. “Just go back to your cave and it’ll be like I’m not even here!”

He rolls his eyes. “I can feel your presence even from there. Seriously, who invited her?”

“We did,” Chris says. “Come on dude, isn’t this getting a little old? It’s time to get over whatever dumb shit you have against her and grow up.”

Matt shakes his head as he takes a box of Goldfish to the couch. “Nah, I’m good. So what are we watching?”

“Oh, so now you wanna watch with us?” I ask. “Two seconds ago you were acting like it was the end of the world that I’m here.”

“Well, this is my house, and I should be able to watch a movie in my house even when little annoying creatures are sitting on my couch,” he smiles sarcastically at me.

I say nothing in response. He’s such a dick.

“Oh, before I forget, do you want to come to TopGolf tomorrow night with us and our friends?” Chris asks me.

“I wish, but I’m going to a bar tomorrow night with my roommate,” I tell him.

“No worries, we’ll go another time. Matt’s not going either because he’s just too good for all of us, isn’t that right Matt?” Chris teases and pokes Matt’s stomach, earning a punch to his upper arm from Matt.

I roll my eyes at Matt’s clear inability to have any fun and sit back as the movie begins.

I should not have gone out tonight. I’m having the worst night. I should have gone to TopGolf with Chris and Nick. All my life choices are being regretted.

My roommate is currently in the bathroom probably sucking some random guy off, and I have somehow gotten in the middle of two drunk guys fighting over god knows what. The place is crowded and I’m being swallowed in a sea of people as I desperately try to get away from the fight before punches start being thrown.

I’m unsuccessful.

In the midst of the chaos, one of the guys accidentally nails me right in the eye as he goes to hit the other. He doesn’t even notice and continues going after him, but other people do notice. I really wish they hadn’t. I want nothing more than to just get out of there.

I push my way to the entrance and ignore the small crowd of people following me and asking if I’m okay.

“I’m fine,” I tell them, speeding up and breathing a sigh of relief when I make it outside.

The pain in my eye doesn’t even register until I open my camera and see it: red, bloody, and already starting to swell. I’m tearing up, and I can’t tell if it’s from the pain or from the disaster that is tonight. I need to go home, but there’s no way I’m going back inside to get my roommate, and she definitely won’t see if I text or call her. I could Uber, but I’m terrified of Ubering alone, especially in Los Angeles at 11 PM. I don’t want to bother Nick and Chris while they’re out, even though I know they would drop everything to get me.

A pit in my stomach rises as I click Matt’s contact name and text him.

are you up? kind of in a situation here and need a ride

Bruh

Call someone else

i wouldn’t ask unless i really needed help

please

I hate how desperate I sound, especially to him, but I’m cold and scared and in pain, so at this point I really don’t care.

Jesus fine where are u

I send him my location and wait. He pulls up ten minutes later, and I do my best to hide my tear stained and bloody face as I get in the car.

“Thank you so much,” I tell him, trying to control my shaky voice. “I’m really sorry, I just–”

“Are you okay?” he asks. I’m barely looking at him, but I can feel him staring at me.

“Yeah, why?”

He turns my face towards him with his thumb. His eyes widen when he sees my eye, which definitely looks worse than it did 10 minutes ago. “Dude! What the fuck happened???”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” I tell him, my eyes starting to well up again.

“You’re not fine. What happened? Who did this to you?”

“Nobody did anything, I swear. Two guys were just fighting and I couldn’t move fast enough and I got hit. It’s my fault, but I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt,” I explain unconvincingly as I start to cry.

“If it doesn’t hurt, why are you crying?”

“Because I just wanna go home, Matt! Can you just take me home?” I sob.

“Okay, okay,” he says gently as he switches gears to drive. “Can I take you to my house? We need to clean up that eye.”

I nod and look out the window as he drives us home. He is the absolute last person I want to see in this state. I know he’s going to use this against me in a few days and he’s never going to let me live it down.

When we get to the triplets’ house, I make a beeline for Matt’s bathroom and look at myself in the mirror.

“Oh my god,” I mumble. I look awful. My eye is completely swollen and it’s turning purple. I have a gash in my cheek. “Why the fuck did I go out tonight?” I say as Matt walks in behind me. “I have to go to work looking like this! I’m not gonna make any tips! People are gonna throw up looking at me!”

“Okay, calm down,” he tells me. “Sit on the toilet. I’m gonna clean it and get you some ice and then you can just chill here, okay?”

I nod and sit down on the toilet lid as he gets a cotton ball and some hydrogen peroxide. He tilts my chin up to look at him. “Little sting,” he mumbles. I scrunch my face at the feeling of the peroxide on the cut. “I know, I’m sorry, almost done.”

He dabs the cut a few times and throws the cotton ball out. “Come on,” he says, motioning me to get up. “Go lay down and I’ll get ice.”

I silently oblige and lay on his bed, giving him a small smile when he returns with some ice chunks in a ziplock bag covered in a paper towel.

“It’s the best I could do,” he says when he hands it to me. “We don’t have any actual ice packs.”

“It’s great, thank you.”

He lays down next to me and turns on the TV. I’m not even paying attention. All I can think about is trying not to ask the one thing I desperately want to know. I almost keep myself from saying it, until it just comes out of my mouth like word vomit.

“Why don’t you like me?”

He looks at me, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “What?”

I immediately regret everything, but I ask again. “Why don’t you like me? I mean, Nick and Chris both like me, so I would assume you would too, but like… did I do something to you?”

He sits up and turns the TV off. “I dropped everything tonight to come save you from a bar. Why don’t you think I like you?”

“You’re just so mean to me. You have been since the day we met. And I don’t understand what I did to deserve that. If you don’t like me, that’s fine, I just want to know why.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “I do like you. I never meant to make it seem like I don’t, I thought we were just playing around. Like friends tease each other, ya know?”

“Well yeah, but… you’ve never done anything to make me think we’re friends, so…”

“I’m sorry,” he says. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, but then closes it.

“What?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nothin. Do you want to stay here tonight? I can get you something to change into.”

“Oh,” I reply, completely taken aback by this. “Yeah… yeah, that would be nice. Thank you.”

He offers me a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt which I take into the bathroom and change into, discarding the ice pack in the process. I take another look in the mirror and sigh.

“God, I look fucking disgusting,” I say when I climb back into his bed.

“You look beautiful,” he says so quietly I have to double check if I even heard him correctly.

“Don’t tell me that just because you feel bad for me.”

“I’m not.” He turns on his side to face me. “You are beautiful.”

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”

His eyes are moving between my eyes and my lips. I’m starting to put the pieces together, and it’s terrifying.

“Because I’m tired of pushing my feelings down and making it your problem,” he says. I don’t say anything, I just give him time to explain. “I didn’t want to like you because you were Nick and Chris’ friend first, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. I thought being a dick would make my feelings go away. It didn’t.”

“I like you, Matt,” I whisper. “I have since I first met you. It made me so sad to think that you didn’t like me. And I’m sorry I’ve also been mean to you.”

“Don’t be sorry, I deserved it,” he says. “Do you still hurt?”

I shake my head. “Not really.”

“Good,” he says before lightly holding my cheek and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. I freeze for a moment, not fully processing what’s happening, and then I hold his wrist and kiss him back, our lips moving perfectly together.

It’s clear that neither of us have any intention of taking it further tonight. We continue to kiss for just a couple minutes until we separate, doing nothing but staring into each others’ eyes.

“Goodnight, Matt,” I say.

“Goodnight.”

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

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kumezyzo · 3 months

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pt.2 to this angsty bullshit

gojo satoru becomes pathetic when he finds out someone is not in love with him. you saw it when he broke up with his first fling after Suguru died. he was sobbing, his blue eyes now red. his nose was running and completely stuffed with snot.

it had broken your heart to see him so distraught. it was almost as worse as the night he and Suguru fought. almost. but it wasn't nearly as bad as when he realized he loved Suguru. now that... that was pathetic. no, pathetic wasn't the word for it. it was tragic.

that night he clung to you. he wailed, and his body shook with grief and regret. god, he had loved suguru. and he had no idea. he couldn't even tell him now. but as much as he hurt, you hurt more.

"i-i lo-oved h-h-him," he cried into your neck, his arms squeezing around your waist. your heart panged as tears came to your eyes. "g-god how did i n-not see it!"

"maybe you subconsciously thought he... didn't love you back," you reasoned, trying to hold back the wobble in your voice.

"i... i jus-st want him b-back," he let out another sob as you pursed your lips and shut your eyes tight. you rubbed his back soothingly as tears fell from your own eyes. "do you think h-he would have l-loved me ba-ack?"

you nodded, "yeah... i think he did."

"w-what if i... what if i-i pushed h-him away cause i di-didn't tell him! " he said, the idea making him cry harder.

"satoru," you started, opening your eyes. more eyes fell from your eyes. "it's hard not to love you."

he's not sure why it took him so long to realize what you meant by that. but it hit him like a truck. he felt like a fucking idiot. especially now that you were starting to see someone.

the worst part was that he set you up with them. but not just anyone. nanami kento.

you had been hesitant at first. one reason was because he was always the reserved, snarky but polite underclassman. there was no way the date would end with you two wanting another date. the second reason was that you wanted to hold out for satoru. maybe he'd change his mind and realize he loved you, like he had with suguru. but you came to your senses and caved.

and to your (and nanami's) suprise, the date went incredibly well. it started off with either of you shitting on satoru's persistence. then you actually started hitting it off. and one date turned into two, two turned into three, three turned into your relationship.

and now satoru was angry at himself. how did he just let you go? he had done it again. he had fallen in love with his best friend and realized far too late. and for the first time, he didn't have anyone to go running to.

i think this is gonna be the last part. hope yall enjoyed the angst. inbox and requests are open aa always -nony

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader angst #gojo angst #satosugu #jjk satoru #angst #nanami kento x reader

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psychedelic-ink · 3 months

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ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ⸻ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader

⌜HOW MR. MILLER STOLE CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST⌟

genre: enemies to lovers, romance, fake dating, minors dni

word count: 5.2k

chapter summary: unlike what you thought, the rumor hasn't been dying out and with a new game plan in mind, you go to seek out Joel.

warnings: age gap, fake dating, mostly fluff, drinking, small town gossip, people talking about the age difference, another heated kiss

**dividers by @saradika

You’re a fucking idiot.

A moron.

A fool.

Fucking small towns. Of course, rumors would spread. Of course, everyone would start talking about seasoned survivor Joel Miller and his new young lover. You shudder at the thought, unable to identify if it’s a bad shudder or the kind that makes your stomach flutter. You hate the idea of Joel being right. He’d said people would talk. And newsflash, unlike what you had thought, the gossip hasn’t died out.

There are two fundamental reasons why neither you nor Joel can just shrug it off, saying it’s not true. The first reason is that both Steven and Marc saw you being shoved up against a wall, passionately locking lips with Joel. The second reason is the fact that no one would think the twins were lying.

Again, this wouldn’t be an issue if you didn’t have a past to hide. People would start digging if you told them the rumors were only that. Rumors. They would start asking questions like where the two knew each other from. And you knew for a fact that Joel doesn’t want people digging either. People knew what kind of man he was, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they will turn a blind eye to him killing the last hope of human survival.

Snow crunches under your boots, your body sweating despite the cold. Tommy’s place finally comes into view. You pray he hadn’t heard any of the rumors, as impossible as that might be.

Some part of you believes that if a time ever comes when everyone finds out what Joel had done, you'll stick up for him. You’re the only person who knows the way of the firefly. How easy it was for them to kill when they thought they were the heroes. In the end, he spared you, it was hard to hate a person who allowed you to live. No matter how much he regrets it now.

On the porch, you stare at the door. It’s weathered for the most part, some parts fixed and polished but not the whole thing.

You knock loudly two times, it doesn’t take long for Tommy to open the door, his lips curling instantly when he lays his eyes on you.

“Well well well, look who it is,” he says too cheerfully, you’re already rolling your eyes. “The good old sister-in-law! Can you tell me why I had to hear about you and my brother tying the knot from Wellington?”

Jesus fucking Christ, Wellington knows? No wonder this bullshit isn’t dying out.

“We’re not married Tommy.”

“Yet.”

“Just tell me where he is, matchmaker.”

He raises an eyebrow, his smile melting, “You don’t know?”

It takes you everything for you not to take deep heavy breaths. He’s making this exceptionally hard. You had a plan. And that plan meant you and Joel wouldn’t be an item in the near future. For said plan to work, however, no one needs to know it was fake to begin with.

“I don’t have his schedule, Tommy, and I wanted to surprise him with,” You press your molars together and lift your bag, forcing a smile. “Baked goods.”

Tommy is full of glee again, “Awwww how fuckin’ sweet. Didn’t know you had it in ya Pecan.” Before you can answer, he points to the bag. “I’ll give you the information for one cinnamon roll.”

You give him a deadpan look, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You’d only gotten two and you were looking forward to it. Instinctively you pull the bag back, hiding it behind you. “No.”

“Come on, pay up, or else I ain’t tellin’ you.”

“Fuck, fine. You’re a mean one.”

“If you say Mr Grinch I’m taking two.”

“No!”

He grins widely, perfect straight teeth coming into view. As he leans forward to snatch the bag away, you get a whiff of his scent and witness how perfectly his dark locks fall forward. Fuck, what kind of super genes did the Millers possess? How are they both so effortlessly attractive? It’s sometimes easy to forget that Tommy can be classified as good-looking since the two of you tend to give each other hell most of the time. But during those short moments where you get a good look at him? It’s devastating.

Tommy holds out the bag and stuffs the cinnamon roll into his mouth, his jaw moving.

“You really not gonna share it with Maria? It’s a miracle your spine isn’t broken from sleeping on the couch.”

He takes the roll out of his mouth and takes a proper bite, “I’m a fuckin’ delight to be around and she’s not home.” You take the bag and as you do, stick out your tongue. “Brat. Your loverboy is at the tree farm cuttin’ up trees. Tell him I say hi and he should find me later.”

“I’m not his secretary.”

“It’s almost like you want me to take all your treats.”

The smell of pine fills your lungs and you’re grateful. You adore the smell. The freshness and sweetness of it mixing with the crispness of snow. You’re honestly amazed at how organized the tree farm is. Tall, lush pine trees in perfect order as you walk between them. Lights have been strung up temporarily, the wires that tie them together so thin that it almost looks like they’re hanging from the sky. They must look beautiful during the night.

It takes you a while to find Joel. He’s in the back and you approach him silently. That wasn’t your initial intention, being snuck up on is never fun. But the way he’s chopping wood makes your insides feel all runny and warm. You didn’t know he additionally chopped firewood as well. He lifts the axe and throws it down, sweat beading on his forehead. The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up, exposing the sinewy muscle of his forearms to your gaze. He cuts down another log, it becomes two in one swift motion. Your mouth dries and tongue rushes out to wet your lips. Your mind cruelly reminds you of the night you kissed him, how good it had felt to have him pressed against you, claiming you—

“Why don’t you bring a damn camera next time, it’ll add to the whole stalker pervert thing you have goin’ on right now.”

Okay. He’s joking. Joking is good, right? Joking means that he doesn’t think about covering your face with a pillow while you sleep. Your body tenses, the soft hairs scattered across your body rising with attention.

“Sorry,” you blurt out, the two of you standing only inches apart. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you but we need to talk.”

“I was wonderin’ when you’d come by. Sucks to be wrong doesn’t it?”

“How was I supposed to know people had nothing else better to do than talk about our non-existent relationship.”

Joel suddenly throws the axe down, impaling the sharp end into the wood, you jump, adrenaline humming in your ears. He ignores your very fair reaction and peels off his gloves, turning towards the bench, “Gee, only if someone had told you that people would talk.”

“Yeah, okay I deserve that.”

He sighs, “What do you want?”

“Like I’ve been saying since the day I realized who you are: to talk.”

“Fine. I was about to take a damn break anyway. Come on, now.”

You both sit on the ice-cold bench, he leans over and picks up a thermos. You’re surprised when he also pulls out two mugs, placing them on top of a clearly handmade bite-sized picnic table. Without a word, you quickly place your offerings as well, at least the ones Tommy had let you get away with, two cheese-stuffed bagels and one cinnamon roll. You frown when you look at it. You really wanted that roll.

“What’s this?” Joel asks, filling the mugs.

“I thought you’d be in better spirits with a full stomach.”

You almost earn a hint of laughter but the sound is quickly swallowed down. The traces of his smile still linger on the corner of his lips, “Well, at least you’re not dumb enough to come empty-handed.”

Ignoring him, you place your cold palms around the mug and take a sip. The fresh taste of lavender and honey coats your tongue. Your favorite. “Huh, weird,” you mutter.

“What? Does it taste funny?”

“No no. It’s just. . . Lavender tea is my favorite.”

“Go figure,” he takes a sip and scowls. “I’d rather have coffee.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you were a tea-loving man.” He grunts and picks up one of the bagels, taking a bite. “About the whole dating situation, I have a plan.”

He doesn’t acknowledge what you’ve said so you continue, “The plan is we fake it for a while, act like a couple, make everyone gush over us, then we break up, saying we wanted different things. That way no one digs into our pasts.”

“This is the weirdest way anyone has ever asked me out.”

You snort, “I’m not asking you out. The key word here is fake. Because if we just say we weren’t dating at all, people are going to wonder why you had me up against a wall. And unless you want to tell people you were threatening me. . .” you give him a look but he’s staring at the horizon, chewing thoughtfully on his bagel. You think he’s scowling but you’re not sure. “I think this is the best way.”

He swallows the last bite and glares at his mug before taking another sip of his tea, he wrinkles his nose. “How would we have to be around each other? I haven’t exactly been datin’ around that much.”

“I was six when the outbreak happened. I’m pretty sure your guess is better than mine.”

That finally catches his attention, his eyes widen, the furrow between his brows deep, “Six?” he repeats.

“Yeah.”

You’re used to people being surprised. Most like you haven’t survived. And your references to the past always made you seem older than you were, you preferred it that way. The less people could guess about you the better. Your mom and dad always paid extra attention to tell you about the world before the cordyceps, reminding you that a life like that could still be your reality once again.

“Was. . .” Joel swallows, pulling you away from your parents. You reach for the other bagel and start eating, giving him time so he can just spit it out. “Was that your first kiss?”

There is something in his voice, an emotion very similar to guilt. You swallow your bite.

“No. It wasn’t.” And that’s all you have to say about that. It seems to be enough because he visibly relaxes, his shoulders dropping. You change the subject. Quickly. “I’m thinking we hold hands a bit, kiss each other on the cheek, and stuff like that. We can come up with rules if you want but I think it’s pretty straightforward.”

He nods. An oddly comfortable silence stretches out. You finish your bagel and drain the rest of your tea.

“We should probably split this,” he says and pulls out a knife from his belt.

“Oh. . . you can have it.”

Joel chuckles, it isn’t quite a laugh but you still take it as a win. “I saw how you were oglin’ it. I ain’t gonna risk you biting my head off,” he cuts it into two and offers you the bigger half. A smile brushes against your lips. “Why didn’t you just get two?”

“I did!” you gasp, forgetting that the two of you aren’t lovers, not even friends. “Tommy took one as compensation for telling me where you were. By the way, he wanted me to tell you hi and that the two of you should meet up later.”

“Why ain’t he lettin’ me know his damn self. I know he ain’t doin’ shit today. You’re not my secretary.”

“That’s what I said!”

Another chuckle. You’re acing this.

“I’ll get him to pay you back, don’t worry.”

“You don’t have to,” you laugh. “It’s just a roll.”

“Well, you’re my girl now, aren’t you? It would be unboyfriend-like of me not to avenge my girl. If we’re gonna fake it, might as well do it right.”

My girl. Your cheeks grow warm. You know it’s not real, and that deep down he most likely despises your existence that threatens his peace but still, it’s good to belong. Even if it’s not real. Even if it’s a lie. Your brain tricks your body into feeling whole for a brief moment, that internal coldness you’ve been feeling since the day your parents died melting ever so lightly, the warm water that drips over the icy exterior, warming your stomach.

“Tell him he owes me two then,” you say, barely above a whisper. “The bakery rarely makes them you know, cinnamon is hard to make.”

He nods but doesn’t add anything else. The crinkles soften at the corner of his eyes, lips looking soft and pliant. You might’ve even dared enough to say that he looks at peace.

You stand and leave, taking a mental note to bring him more treats from now on.

You successfully fool yourself into believing it’s for his sake and not yours.

Joel enjoys the cold. He always knew he would but was never allowed to say it since he never lived in the cold. He hated that argument. Sure he lived in Austin his entire life but that didn’t mean he didn’t ache for a bit of chill. Even at the end of the world, when he barely had enough to cover his back, he found himself enjoying the little things. The fresh, crisp air, the snow crunching under his boots.

The silence.

Sometimes he wonders if he likes it so much because it reminds him of death and considering all the seasons, winter is the one where he is closest to it. Closest to Sarah. He does hope she’s someplace warmer now. He’s not a man of faith, but for her, he’ll believe there’s an afterlife where nothing but good and butterflies exist.

Joel also feels closest to her when he’s with Tommy. His brother is the only one who knew her, the good in her. He was the one who was there when the world was stripped away from such a kind being, and he was there when she was buried under the world she could always see the best of.

As Joel walks up to the porch the brothers' eyes meet, it’s true that uncles resemble the kids. Sometimes if the light hits him just right, Joel could see a bit of her in him.

“You owe her two rolls,” Joel huffs, sitting on the empty chair beside Tommy.

“I don’t know what she told you but we had a very fair exchange, I don’t owe your little girlfriend shit,” he grins, not noticing the way Joel frowns at the label. “Nice to see the guard dog in you hasn’t died out.”

“I ain’t a guard dog.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Just bring her two tomorrow and I’ll owe you one favor.”

Tommy’s grin only widens, “You must really want to impress her.”

Joel fights the urge to roll his eyes. This whole arrangement is going to be a pain in the ass, he can sense it.

“Fine, tell pecan I’ll have her goods Friday. I doubt I’ll be able to wake up early enough to get it tomorrow but you owe me one Joel.”

“Why the hell do you call her Pecan anyway? That ain’t her name, you dumbass.”

“It’s because she has a hard shell but nice and soft on the inside.” Joel’s shoulders raise and he swallows thickly around the knot forming in his throat. He remembers the way you tasted on his tongue. How soft you were against him, no hard shell in sight. Tommy has no idea just how soft you are and can be. His cock twitches under the denim. He hates himself for it. “You should bring her to the party tonight.”

“Huh?”

“That party, Joel,” Tommy playfully smacks his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you forgot already. You promised to come.”

Oh yeah. Fuck. He really doesn’t want to go and deal with all the eyes he already knows will be on him. And you.

“Yeah, ‘course I remember. I’ll be there.”

“Just you?”

Joel sighs, “And her. We’ll be there.”

“You know, I’m truly happy for you brother. You deserve to be happy with someone who appreciates you.”

The words sting but he can’t do anything about it. He looks away, eyes staring at the snow-covered trees. “I don’t like being at the center of attention.”

“It’ll die out. The lonely bachelors are just jealous. Don’t mind them.”

Joel doesn’t need to ask to know what he’s talking about. You’re nearly half his age, six when the damn world came to an end. He knows people are wondering how the hell an old man like him got a girl like you, as if your age is the only reason to be with you. Not that he would know. None of this is real after all. You don’t appreciate him like Tommy suggested, maybe grateful for not putting a bullet between your eyes but that’s pretty much it. The same goes for him. He doesn’t know you—other than that you enjoy lavender tea with heaping amounts of honey and cinnamon rolls.

“I won’t, Tommy. No need to worry.”

When you hear a loud knock at the door, you’re staring at your reflection in the mirror. Ever since the kissing mishap with Joel, you’ve been a bit more conscious of what you look like. You’ve never had a reason to care much about it before and you’re not sure you like being this aware of every little flaw now.

Walking to the door, you’re not sure who to expect. You don’t have many friends other than Tommy and Maria, you’re already on alert, grabbing a small knife from the kitchen. Old habits die hard.

What you weren’t expecting is to see a distressed Joel Miller.

“Didn’t figure you knew where I lived.”

“I’m the brother-in-law of the woman in charge, of course I know where you live. I know where everyone lives.”

You lift an eyebrow and lean against the door frame, his eyes drop to the knife but fear is the furthest thing in his features, “Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“There’s a party at Tommy’s and he wanted me to invite you.”

An involuntary groan escapes your lips, Tommy knew you didn’t want to go. The fucker.

“And let me guess, I have to go because we’re a couple.”

“Don’t give me attitude it was your idea, not mine.”

He’s right, “Fine. Come in and I’ll change so we can leave.”

“What’s wrong with what you’re wearin’ right now?”

You try not to hide yourself behind the door as his eyes sweep you from top to bottom. Inherently, there isn’t anything wrong with what you’re wearing. It's just your typical jeans, sweater, and a dark green flannel thrown on top. You’re warm and cozy.

“Isn’t this a party?”

“What do you think they’ll be wearin’? Suits and fancy dresses?”

“I guess you’re right, I’ll get my jacket.”

Feeling warmer than normal, you lock the door and the two of you head to Tommy’s. “So, should we. . . talk about what we’re gonna do or say?”

“Say?”

Joel shrugs, “You know, if they ask us how we met or somethin’.”

“I think half the town knows how we met, Joel.”

“A’right, so our story is that I helped you down, had a couple of drinks, and decided we like each other?”

“Sounds iron proof to me.”

“This is fuckin’ stupid.”

“I don’t see you coming up with any plans.”

“Wouldn’t even be in this mess if not for you.”

The harsh bite in his tone makes you take a step back without thinking. You’ve seen this man kill with ease. He’d admitted to regret leaving you alive. Fear is an irrational thing. It’s something that lingers and stays even when the initial threat has been evaded. You’re still afraid despite knowing you don’t have to be. You’ve been enjoying your little talks, you’ve been enjoying spending time with him. Internally you’re conflicted and confused.

Joel slows down along with you, turning and checking just how far you’ve fallen behind. He stops and turns, eyes taking in the furrow of your brows, the running of your nose. You don’t flinch when he touches your cheek, his gloved hand soft against your skin. He’s so gentle. So gentle that it almost hurts.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you. Promise,” he lets out a steady breath, fixing you with a leveled gaze. “I might not trust you or even like you, but I won’t hurt you.”

Your eyes widen, heart thudding loud enough that you’re positive he can hear it. Without a word you nod, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. Joel nods back. His hand deserts your cheek and he locks your arms together, tugging you along the snow.

You believe him when he says he won’t hurt you. As foolish as that might be.

Two hours into the party and still all everyone can talk about is Joel and his new girlfriend. Even goddamn Maria had asked about it. Joel is still recovering from his sister-in-law’s interest in the matter. You were a definite natural in faking it. Unlike him, who was already exhausted from it all. It’d been a long couple of hours of holding hands, standing close, and kissing cheeks.

He’s holding a glass of the finest whiskey he’s ever had since the world ended, surrounded by familiar faces and his brother. You had scurried off somewhere. To the bathroom, he thinks. Or helping Maria with organizing. He probably should’ve asked, but he’s not used to questioning people unless it’s Ellie. But since the two of you are “dating” he suppose he should’ve.

“Yo Miller.” Joel fights the urge to groan as Wellington approaches with a raised hand. He slaps him on the shoulder, his cheeks and nose red and warm thanks to the alcohol. “You gotta tell me your secret.”

Joel sends Tommy a questioning gaze, his bother only shrugs. “‘Bout what Wellington?” he sighs.

“About catchin’ such a fine piece of ass.”

Joel’s shoulders raise, nostrils flaring as anger boils in his gut, but before he can get out a word Tommy intervenes, “Wellington.”

“What?” he slurs, turning to the younger Miller. “We’re all thinkin’ it. How old is she huh? Like half your age?”

Joel feels sick when the man grins. Wellington ain’t lying, you are half his age. Realistically, someone like you would never go for him. An old man who’s lost so much in his lifetime. But of course, he can’t say that, he can’t say anything that might out them as liars.

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” Joel grunts, pushing Wellington’s hand off his shoulder. “Or I’ll shut it for you.”

“I’d say money but that don’t exist anymore,” Wellington continues. “So what is it?”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up—

“Joel?”

Your voice cuts through the tension like a knife. Everyone who’s in-ear shot of the conversation stills, an icy cold wind enveloping all of them, including Tommy. Joel recognizes the look of worry in his brother’s eyes. The older Miller swallows thickly as he rips his glare away from Wellington—he’s surprised that despite the amount of alcohol in his veins he looks ashamed.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

You shudder in a way only he notices. You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Your body subtly going straight and then relaxing. He wonders how much you’ve heard, or rather if you heard.

“I need some help in the kitchen, could you?”

“Uh, yeah sure. Of course.”

He ignores Tommy’s snicker and follows you through the crowd, away from the sight of Wellington and others. You stop at the threshold of the kitchen, not going in. You lean against the door frame and look away. “Sorry, I don’t actually need help. It just looked like you needed saving.”

“That bad, huh?”

“If looks could kill, Wellington would be dead thrice.” You say it so nonchalantly that he smiles, Joel mimics your stance and leans against the other side of the doorframe, leaving only little distance between you two. “What did he say?”

So you didn’t hear. Good.

“Nothin’ that you need to concern yourself with. He’s just buggin’ me, that’s all.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Didn’t really look like it was just buggin’.”

The subtle accent change at the end of your sentence makes him laugh, you shake your head but he sees the way your lips quirk into a smile.

“You makin’ fun of me sweetheart?”

“. . . Maybe.”

“That’s the type of talk that’ll get you in trouble you know.”

Your smile widens into a grin, “With whom?”

“Keep it up and you’ll find out.”

It’s been a long time since he felt like this. The enjoyment of the tug and pull. Heat spreads from the small of his back and reaches all the way to his groin. You must’ve had a couple of drinks before asking for him. You lean closer, your lips deliciously curled as mischief glimmers in your eyes. He wonders if you thought about the kiss. How close your bodies were that night.

“Be careful Miller,” you say, rolling your tongue over each syllable. “Almost sounds like you want me to keep it up.”

God, that he does. He’s starting to get hard. Without even thinking he leans a bit closer as well, tilting his head as if he’s about to kiss you. Your eyes flash with something expectant—

“KISS!”

The delicate moment shatters with reality. You’re not flirting, you can’t, because technically you’re already dating. Joel hates the way you flinch at the sudden crowd shouting. His head whips towards them, only to see Tommy taking charge, he points to something above and both of your heads snap up like a cartoon.

“Mistletoe,” he says. Lowering his gaze, he gives you a quick smile. “You know what that means, right sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, “I do, jerk.”

“Brat.”

He almost laughs at the way your lips quickly wound shut. The crowd is getting restless.

“Don’t y’all have anythin’ better to do?” Joel quips.

“Nope!”

The echoes of kiss kiss kiss only get louder from there. Joel sighs, “I don’t think we can escape them.”

“If I had a penny every time we had to kiss to appease a crowd. . .” you whisper. He expects you to continue but you don’t, instead you place your hands on his cheeks, holding him gently. You come closer and as does he, his hands slide to your hips, tugging you flush against him.

You’re so soft. Softer than he deserves.

Unlike the first time, he takes the lead. He pushes you until your back is pressed against the doorframe, he claims your lips with a need he fearfully admits he doesn’t have to fake. He squeezes your hips, the sound of the crowd awing them fading into the background. It’s just his lips that move, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to feel your tongue against his. To feel the quiver of your naked body as he fills you to the brim, kissing you and telling you just how much he enjoys being inside you.

He swallows your tiny moans and whimpers, and as he breaks away, he pulls at your bottom lip with his teeth. You’re breathless when you meet his gaze, sharp eyes glazed over with a fog of arousal.

Then, as the crowd claps, he presses the side of his face against your ear, “Just a taste,” he whispers and feels your tremble underneath his palms. “Of what’ll happen if you keep it up.”

“That was one hell of a party,” you muse. You’re staring at the dark horizon, snow gently falling from the sky. Joel pushes a warm mug of tea between your hands.

“It’s still goin’ on,” he says.

“You’d die if you just let me live in my blissful bubble wouldn’t you?”

“Sure would.”

You let out a snort as he settles near you, your shoulders brushing against one another. You have to admit, it’s been a fun night—and not only because of the kiss. That was just a bonus. A very hot and steamy bonus.

It felt too real to be fake. Too real to be nothing. Years you had been alone and now you were sampling what it meant to have someone care for you, to tease you. He doesn’t even know you yet you two fit together like a glove and a hand. Makes you wonder how different this could all have been if he hadn’t been Ellie’s father, and you hadn’t been a part of the Fireflies.

“Oh good you’re still here.” The two of you turn to see Tommy, his cheeks a little flushed and his breath a little uneven. “I need to ask you two somethin’.”

“What now?” Joel groans, prompting a smile from you.

“You heard of the new family in town? The one with two kids?” You have no idea but Joel seems to know who they are. He nods. “We don’t have a house ready for them yet so I was thinkin’. . .” his eyes flicker between yours and Joel’s, your stomach going tight with worry. “You two can live together till we’re finished with the construction.”

“What?”

The question leaves your mouth before you can properly register. You turn to Joel but much to your surprise, he seems unfazed.

“Just for a while,” Tommy says. “I just figured since you two are already datin’. . .”

Joel ignores his brother completely to fave you, “Your call sweetheart.”

Seeing him so calm makes you ashamed of your initial reaction. You’re not even sure why you reacted so brashly. It was a simple request. A logical one.

“Yeah sure, that’s okay,” forcing a smile, you turn to Tommy. Joel’s touch is soothing behind you, hand rubbing small circles at the base of your spine. A welcome comfort. “Just let me grab my things and you can set them up tomorrow.”

“You’re the best, pecan,” Tommy glows, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll give Maria the good news.”

Joel’s hand deserts you almost immediately when his brother is out of sight. It makes your heartstrings tug. “You sure about this?” he asks. “It would be fine if I lived alone but Ellie is a curious one and she’ll figure it out if we ain’t convincin’ enough.”

“In all honesty, I had completely forgotten about Ellie,” you let out a deep exhale. “But I guess that’s fine. I’m sure we can pull it off. It’s not like I could say no.”

His gaze softens, “You could’ve asked to stay somewhere else.”

“No. . . It’s fine, Joel. Really,” you crack a smile. “I feel like I should be asking if you’re alright with it. You’re the one with the problem with me being around Ellie.”

“I’ll have my eye on you two,” he says a bit too quickly for comfort.

Your tongue sours, “I’m not going to tell her anything.”

Joel doesn’t say anything. Or even acknowledges that he’s heard you. He leaves you on the porch, following his brother’s footsteps, you’re left with nothing but a lukewarm mug of tea.

Then you notice it’s lavender.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfic

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bangtaninborderland · 10 months

Text

JJK- Late Night Calls.

you get a call from Jungkook at 7am, struck with worry you pick up only to find your adorably tired boyfriend.

Genre: smut, fluff, Jungkook x reader.

Warning: NONE!

A/N: came up with this in 10 minuets thought it was cute enjoy :)

The familiar tune of your phone ringing broke you from your sleep, your vision was blurry but you could still clearly read the caller ID

Incoming Factime Video call: JK ♥️

It must have been 7am in Korea, Jungkook was never awake this early. You quickly answered, a million scenarios running through your mind as to explain why he was calling at such a time and none of them were good.

“Hello?”

He must have seen the panic in your face as he croaked out. “Baby what’s wrong?”

“I thought something happened you’re never awake this early?” You felt a small weight lift off your shoulders as he chuckled.

“I’m fine baby just couldn’t sleep, missed you.” You loved how he sounded when he was sleepy.

You laughed at the way he was laying across his bed, small rolled up pillow underneath him. “You have got to get different pillows.”

“No no I like my pillow.” He laughs, showing you how comfortable it is. “How’s London jagiya?”

You suddenly regretted being in a different country for work, the idea of morning sex seemingly more attractive than anything else. “It’s fine here, I can’t wait to be back home though. The food isn’t as good.”

“The food is the only thing?” He pouted, pulling the blanket further over his face. “What about me and bammie?”

You turned to the side, resting your leg atop the blanket. “Of course I miss you and bam too kook.”

“The bed is cold without you, empty. I think you should quit work and just be a stay at home wife.” He laughed again, although you could tell there was a sliver of hope to his absurd suggestion.

“Never gonna happen, you may be rich but I’m only half way there.” You both laughed, money was never something either of you took seriously you had always shared everything for as long as you could remember. You’d buy him dinner and he would buy dessert. He would buy you designer but he would also be more than happy if you brought him a pack of ramen. “Besides we aren’t even married.”

“Don’t remind me.” He shakes his head, before shifting to rest it upon his arms. “How many days until your back?”

“We should have the contracts finished up in a day or two and then we will have a celebratory dinner and I’ll be on the first flight back.” You explained as you watched him, his tattoos standing out against the white fabric of his sheets, his hair messy. You let your eyes wander, your imagination running wild thinking about how he would look completely naked. “are you wearing pants?”

“Come back and find out jagiya, I’m sure you’re already picturing the ways I’d fuck you.”

The sudden vulgarity of his words left you in a state of shock. “I- when I get home we are definitely doing whatever I’m thinking right now.”

“And what is that doll?” He laughed, fingers drawing circles on the sheet. “What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?”

“Just thinking about how good your hand would look wrapped around my neck.” You pushed yourself further into the pillow, slightly shy.

“Too bad you’re too far away baby. We should sleep.” He closed his eyes, teasing you.

You groaned, fighting the urge to grind against the sheets. “Kook.”

“Hmm?” He mumbled, lazily.

“You turned me on.” You giggled, closing your eyes.

“I’m hard too beautiful, I’ll go to sleep thinking about good good your mouth will feel around my cock.

“Why couldn’t you call me at 8pm and get all dirty with me? Why does it have to be when I’m too tired to do anything?” You whined, wanting to cry from how much you missed his touch.

“It’s okay princess when you’re home I’ll take care of you. we should still sleep you have a meeting tomorrow morning don’t you?” You opened one eye, just enough to see him staring at you smiling.

“At six am, it’s 11pm right now. I have to wake up at 4am so I can finish the presentation.” You explained, your words slurring as you started to drift off. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“I have a few appointments nothing important, call me anytime tomorrow I’ll be there but for now get some sleep baby, I won’t hang up.”

“Promise?” You whispered, the folds of sleep covering you in a sheet of darkness.

“Always jagiya.”

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beenbaanbuun · 7 days

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hii bunny! 🤍🤍

i was wondering if you maybe could write something angsty with mingi? like he’s had a long day and snaps at you a little after seeing your clothes on the floor or something.. like it would never bother him on a normal day but it’s just been a long day for him

it’s not too harsh but it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him have that tone with you so obviously it’s a lot for you 🫣 it doesn’t take him long to realize and regret it but by the time he does you’re already outside on the verge of tears and getting some fresh air.. he basically panics and texts you and calls you 😭 there’s no answer for around 10 minutes and just as he’s about to go outside and look for you, not even bothering throwing an hoodie on, he opens the door and sees you standing there with a little bag with his favorite snacks that you bought for him and he immediately starts apologising

sorry if this is quite specific i just hope it helps a little with your ideas! if you want to change anything you can! you can add smut and make it angsty or you can make it sweet and soft.. maybe even both 🤷‍♀️

i feel like he’s so gentle and definitely would love his partner too much, and just the thought of that he’s upset them could kill him

i cried writing this so i hope you enjoy it 🫡

——————————————————————————

to say that mingi’s day was hard would be an understatement. he barely slept the previous night, the constant beeping of the fire alarm begging for new batteries that they didn’t yet have keeping him awake into the early hours of the morning. he thinks it was sheer exhaustion that sent him to sleep at just gone 4am, and he was equally exhausted when san woke him two hours later for practice. he had half a mind to tell his friend to fuck off and just go back to sleep, but then he heard the beep of the fire alarm and decided he had no chance. he was going to have to stay awake.

then came practice, which was never easy, but for some reason was so much worse today. it started with yunho, who was being so much stricter than usual, jaw clenching and eyes filling with fire if anyone even dared to get a single step wrong. with mingi’s tired brain, he wasn’t afraid to admit that most of those glares were aimed at him; intricate footwork is more difficult when you can hardly string two thoughts together, it seems. annoyance doesn’t help with that either, yet with every pointed look at yunho gets him, he feels his blood boiling more and more.

then you have the troublemakers who seemed to make it their sole purpose today to annoy every single other person in that room. san and wooyoung were naturally loud people, but today they seemed to have the dial turned up to twelve. of course, yeosang was dragged into it too, offering quiet, but not unheard, snarky comments to go along with whatever nonsense the other pair were babbling about. mingi wasn’t sure how much more of that high-pitched cackle he could stand before it made his achy head explode.

and last, but certainly not least, there was hongjoong, perhaps mingi’s biggest issue out of his members. he too seemed to be in a bad mood, but unlike mingi who had yet to retaliate to any of the shit show going on around him, hongjoong just couldn’t seem to shut his mouth. someone misstepped? he’d yell at them. someone misspoke? he’d yell at them. it was just a constant wall of sound coming from his leader and mingi wasn’t sure just how much more he could take until…

“everyone just go,” hongjoong groans, anger and frustration laced through his features. “it’s clear no one is taking it seriously today so just go!”

a miracle.

mingi wastes no time in grabbing his bag and running out of the practice room without even a glance back at his members. perhaps later he’ll text them and let them know where he is, but for now he just needs you. he needs your arms to wrap around him and keep him warm as he sleeps. he needs your voice to float around his brain as he drifts away. he needs you.

he’s thankful that you live close because before he knows it, he’s at your door, fishing your key from his pocket. he fiddles with it excitedly, scraping it against the door a few times by accident before finally slipping it into the keyhole. he twists it and pushes it open, expecting to find you buzzing around your apartment like a cute little bumble bee.

instead he’s met with silence and darkness, curtains still drawn and your lively little self nowhere to be seen. there’s pots in the sink, mess strewn across the floor and the trash bag from last night still propped up by the door. mingi lets out a long sigh.

he knows it’s wrong of him to feel annoyed by all of this, and normally he wouldn’t. it’s just after the day he’s had, all he wanted was to cuddle up to you in a nice tidy, stress-free apartment. now he has to take your load on his shoulders as well. he has to pick up your pieces whilst he’s still desperately trying to hold all of his together. but this is it; this is his last straw, and the irritation and frustration he’s been barely holding back all day suddenly bursts free of its dam. he cant stop himself as he kicks off his shoes, not caring where they go (it’s not like it’ll make any difference with the state your apartment in is anyway) and storms his way down the hallway to your bedroom.

your door is already open, and through it he can see you still in bed. you’re curled up under the quilt, just like he has wanted to be all day. just like he hasn’t been able to because he has been busy. for some reason it only fills him with more annoyance, and he steps over the threshold into your room and slams the door behind him.

he can see that the sound startles you, but he can’t find it in him to care. he just stares down at you, a mixture of anger and disappointment twisting his features as you groggily sit up to look at him. your eyes are red, as are your cheeks, but mingi just brushes it off. the painful pang in his chest upon seeing you like that is hardly enough to outweigh everything else he feels.

“really?” he bends down to pick up a t-shirt before holding it up to show you. you stare at it blankly, not sure what he’s trying to get at.

“what’s wrong, mingi?” your voice is strained as if you’d been crying recently. if mingi wasn’t so blinded by everything, perhaps he would’ve noticed how fragile you seem to be. perhaps he’d be able to take a step back and see that you need him to comfort you, not berate you. it’s a shame his head is too full of his own feelings to even consider yours.

“what’s wrong?” he scoffs, throwing his arms up in exasperation, “this! everything!” he gestures wildly around your room as if it explains anything. “i don’t need to deal with this shit right now, baby! i can’t!”

he watches as your brows furrow in confusion, hurt washing over your features. there’s something in his that tells him that it’s enough, that he’s said and done too much already, but there’s still more on the tip of his tongue and he needs to get it out of him before he bursts.

“i have enough on my plate without having to take care of you, alright?” his voice comes out harsher than he means it to, more of a shout than anything else, and by the way your expression tightens, he can tell he’s hurt you.

that’s when it all sinks in for him, when you hum, nodding your head slowly as his words echo around your brain. your eyes look down at your hands, thumbs picking at one another awkwardly. he’s said too much, gone too far, he can understand that now. like, really understand it. he should’ve stayed silent. ignored the shit spewed across the floor and crawled into your bed like he’d been wanting to do all day.

well shit, he thinks to himself, he never meant to hurt you. he doesn’t know what he wanted to do by telling you those things, but this wasn’t it.

“sorry,” is all you say when you toss the comforter off your legs. you’re dressed in the same clothes that he saw you in yesterday; had you slept in them? “i, uh… i’ll get out of your hair for a little while, mingi. it seems like you need a little alone time… you’re stressed.” and with that you stand up. mingi lets you, unsure of what to say to you as you grab your wallet from your nightstand and push past him. your hand feels like a hot iron pressed against his shoulder as you side-step him, and he almost, almost, goes to catch it.

before he can, you’re gone, and all he does is stand there as he listens to you open the door and walk out of the apartment.

your apartment.

he sits on your bed, twisting his hands into the comforter as he tries to ground himself. he’d kicked you out of your own apartment because of what? he doesn’t even know himself. he can’t wrap his head around the sudden burst of anger that washed over him like a tsunami. there was no escape from it until it passed, and now he’s left with with aftermath; the pain of upsetting you.

he knew from the moment he stepped in your apartment that you weren’t doing well. the drawn blinds, the pots left over from last night; he’s seen it time and time again and he’s never been upset at you for it. there’s been no anger or frustration there. no cross words or disappointment. nothing except sympathy and the desire to make everything okay for you again.

so, what? he got jealous because you were allowed to sit and wallow in your bad mood and he wasn’t? he got mad that coming to your apartment wasn’t the perfect whirlwind of softness and affection that he’d hoped for? god, he feels pathetic for how he treated you. even more so at the fact that he still feels so desperate for your comfort. he knows he doesn’t deserve it, but holy fuck does he need it.

he lets himself sit there in the pain for just a little while longer. perhaps if he lets himself hurt enough, he might deserve to have you back in his arms. if he repents, everything might be okay again. you’ll forgive him for what he said to you and hold him gently like he needs. you’ll whisper sweet words and kiss his head like he wants. you’ll be kind to him despite the fact that he hasn’t been kind to you. you’ll let him rest…

when he feels enough time has passed, he slips a hand into his pocket to grab his phone. there’s a message or two from his members asking where he went, but he ignores them. they can wait, you can’t. he locates you contact, pressing his thumb against the call button and letting it ring. a few seconds pass before he hears it loud and clear; your phone in the other room. he perks up a little—maybe you’re still here! his legs carry him faster than he can process. he swings the door open with little care about the way it slams against your dresser, and tumbles into the kitchen… where your phone is abandoned… with you nowhere to be seen.

mingi’s heart plummets even further. you’re gone, and now he won’t even have a way to know that you’re safe. it’s still daylight outside but what if you get lost? what if you stay out too long and it gets dark? what if you need him? he lets out a cry of stress, hands flying up to grip his bleached locks tightly in his hands. he feels fucking useless.

for just a moment he lets himself play the blame game with himself. it’s his fault. all of it is. anything could be happening to you and it would be his fault. he upset you and he let you leave! it’s all him, him, him… that makes it his to fix too.

he doesn’t let himself think as he walks over to the door. he doesn’t bother with a jacket, his brain telling him it would take too much time to slip it onto his shoulders. hell, he barely bothers with his shoes! just slips his feet in, not sparing a single thought to the way his feet are currently crushing the backs down. that’s the least of his worries, anyway. he can buy new shoes, he can’t replace you.

his hand reaches out to grab the door handle. it’s just centimetres away, almost close enough to grab it. his fingers begin to curl around the metal, but someone else gets there first. the handle dips down, and the door creeks as it opens just the tiniest bit. mingi gasps, moving at the speed of lighting to pull the door even wider. he knows exactly who’s on the other side, and his desperation to see you can’t be contained. he barely even looks at you before scooping you up into his arms.

“ouch, mingi,” you squirm as he holds you tighter than you think you’ve ever been held before. “you’re trapping my hair! let go, you giant oaf.”

he doesn’t, but he does loosen his grasp just a touch. not enough to let you fully breathe again, but just so you can save your hair from being pulled from your head. you’re grateful for that, at least, but it doesn’t stop you from trying to wriggle free. “let me go,” you reiterate, body still moving as he holds you against his broad chest, “i need to give you something but i can’t when you have me trapped!”

“you don’t need to give me anything,” he pouts as he presses a wet kiss against your hairline. it’s all very sweet, but you can’t help but feel like now is not the time.

“yes i do!” you twist your body in a way that makes it impossible for mingi to keep hold of you, gasping in a dramatic fashion as if you’d been starved of oxygen completely. mingi can’t help but smile at your performance, even if his arms do feel a little too empty now you’re not in them. you are absolutely adorable, after all. “i need to give you this because it’ll melt otherwise.”

that’s when he notices the clear plastic bag in your hand. if he looks carefully, he can just about make out the pint of hazelnut ice cream and the bag of shrimp chips; his favourites. confused, he brings his gaze back up to your face, noticing the shy smile that rests on your lips as you raise the bag up for him to take. “for me?” he asks. you only give him a quick nod in response. “but… why?”

when he doesn’t take the bag, you roll your eyes and stomp past him to the kitchen. it hits the counter with a thud, and mingi flinches. are you angry with him? of course, you have every right to be but if he’s being honest, he’s rather that you weren’t. he really needs you right now. he slinks up behind you, watching as you busy yourself with taking the snacks out of the bag. his arms ache with the desire to be wrapped tightly around your waist, but he somehow manages to hold himself back.

“because you’re obviously not doing good,” you say as you yank the cutlery drawer open to grab two spoons. it doesn’t go unnoticed when you pull out the flat one with the thin handle alongside the deep one with the heavy handle; his and your favourite spoons, respectively. his chest aches with love as you, actually rather violently stab the container with both of them. he always has loved your silly little antics.

“yeah, well you’re not doing good either,” he tries to argue, but you shut him up with a glare.

“me not doing well doesn’t mean i can’t try to help you when you’re not doing well,” you shrug as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “my feelings don’t negate your feelings and i love you, so i want to try and help you.” whether it’s a loaded statement or not, mingi can’t help but understand the irony. either you’re trying to teach him a lesson or the universe is. judging by the look in your eyes, he thinks it’s safe to assume that it’s you.

“i get it,” he nods, “i’m sorry for being a dick, you don’t deserve that.”

“i don’t deserve it, but i do understand it and i’m not going to torture you for it when it’s obvious you’ve been torturing yourself,” you point a finger up to his messed up hair, “what i am going to do is get in bed with you and eat a shit ton of ice cream, capeesh?”

“yeah, baby,” he smiles, “capeesh…”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez angst #mingi fluff #mingi x reader #mingi angst

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