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#it is SO hard to look at his face in that scene
cryptidcasanova · 3 days
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Lover Boy
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Mob!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: It's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky.
Warnings: Angst, light Smut, Language, Possessive Bucky.
3.5k
The poll results are in, and I couldn't help but think this might be a good way to remedy both sides.
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You were mortified.
One hand fisted against quivering lips, and the other gripped at your clutch. As if anything else could go wrong tonight. Shaky steps guided you down the carpeted stairs.
There was another gala, another meeting of the power players in town. And it was another night wasted at the hands of James Barnes.
You hated how much you cared for him. You still cared for him even after all the stunts he pulled to pull you away from the Maximoff heir. Always had.
Ever since you were kids, you remembered having that love-sick look in your eyes. You grew up with inner-circle families and were friends with Rebecca, Sarah, and their brothers. And Bucky? Well, shit, he was always there with his dark hair and curious eyes. It was hard not to fall for him.
Even as you grew up, numbing yourself to the reality of the business and the choices that came with it, you couldn't ignore him forever. You knew that Bucky was raised to be powerful, honorable, and frightening. You knew the stories – of all the beautiful women who couldn't tie him down longer than a night or two. You knew how he flaunted some new girl at every event. It was hard not to overhear them whispering among the men.
'What about her?' and the laugh on his hips saying, 'She's just a family friend. Don't worry about her; I'd never be with her like that.'
You knew he would break your heart, and still. You loved him.
Again, mortified.
He was your first kiss on some lonely night when you couldn't help but ask him. But that had been ages ago. He was grown now, the head of the family and the king of his empire.
But there was something different about tonight, something predestined that started long before you stepped outside your door. It started out as Sam's idea weeks before, in the same bar where you ended up every weekend.
He wanted to try and get you to mingle among the local 'rabble-rousers' as if he pretended not to be one of them. Your laugh at his suggestion pulled Steve and Bucky's attention from across the bar.
"You want me to do what, exactly?" You teased. "Throw myself in the way of wealthy investors and scout out the competition? That's much more up Nat's alley; there's a reason why they call her the Black Widow, you know –"
"No, nothing like that," he shook his head, that charming grin on his lips. Once Sam got an idea, it took a lot of work to dissuade him. "Look, there's more to this life than watching shipments and making small talk with the hens in town." He paused, knowing all the time you spent logging backorders and saving face with the mercs' wives. "I want you to be happy. We all do."
You leaned against the bar, pressing your palms against the hardwood.
"So you think it's time for me to settle down?" You challenged with a smirk. "Get married to some silver-spoon jerk upstate?" Sam's smile turned close-lipped as he noticed the other's approach.
"We could help you find a good one." At least he sounded hopeful.
"In this town?" Steve overheard, tapping his beer on the hardtop. "You're gonna need all the help you can get."
Your sneaking suspicion grew as they hounded like vultures. You looked from Sam to Steve with weary eyes. The only one with less enthusiasm was Bucky. Bucky, who usually was primmed with pressed shirts, was tired. His hair fell into his face, his shirt wrinkled, and his tie long discarded at one of the tables.
"You want to help me find a man?"
Bucky looked to his friends with a hooded expression, letting his hand reach out before him. With the click of his tongue, he softly smirked.
"We'll help you find a man. Have we got a deal, doll?"
It was a business handshake, one full of promise. And as soon as you grasped Bucky's hand, one you'd come to regret.
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You didn't expect their advice to work so well…or so quickly.  
At the gala, Bucky strolled over with that sly walk and pressed navy suit, conveniently carrying your favorite drink in hand after Pietro ordered you both dirty martinis. You never cared for the drink, but you weren't about to tell him that. But trouble started when Bucky slid between you with that close-lipped smirk.
"They must have made a mistake at the bar," He explained with a shrug. "I remember you liked these. Here, doll." Bucky said, swapping out the drink in your hand before sliding away. No one could fault you for your eyes lingering on him as he walked back to Sam and Steve.
Later in the night, when you were dancing along and finally falling into a rhythm with Pietro, Bucky interrupted again. It was the turn of the tides, the slow pace of the music building, until it felt like one of the underground clubs.
All the weeks spent flirting and learning more about the Maximoff family were crumbling before you. You were a fool to think it would last.
The music built to the familiar strum of old songs you used to listen to, and before you knew it, Sam, Natasha, and half the crew surrounded you on the dancefloor, pulling you away from your date. And it was all orchestrated by Bucky, leading them like a pack of wolves. You knew that look, the suave pull of his hand through slicked-back hair. And then, before you knew it, you were dragged away from the dancefloor.
"Hey," Pietro called over the music, pulling you to the side. "I like you. I do, but this isn't working."
"Wait –" You tried, reaching for his arm. But he was quick to deflect, and embarrassment warmed your cheeks.
"Whatever you're looking for," his eyes moved from Bucky and dropped when you noticed. He looked down with a sad smile. "Whoever you're looking for, I hope you find it."
It felt like a knife twisting in your chest.
"Please don't go."
But it was too late. Your plea was lost as he pushed himself away. Everyone saw it. All your friends' efforts and your attempts to find the one were wasted. Your feet carried you away too fast to notice the somber look Steve gave Bucky.
"You're running out of time, punk."
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The city lights passed in a blur as a taxi drove you farther from the gala. The searing ache in your chest left you confused.
For years, you dreamed of Bucky Barnes, hope a dangerous feeling companion of yours. But you knew how he felt. You were nothing more than a friend; he had made that abundantly clear. But you couldn't cut the tether, even while someone else caught your interest. Pietro Maximoff was handsome and kind and loved his sister more than the world. But with Bucky's interruptions, it was no wonder why he didn't want to get involved.
But it still hurt.
A sob was swallowed back, but you couldn't stop the tears from rising. You were pitiful. It was the last time you'd ever ask the guys for help.
But the thought was gone with the sudden screeching of brakes. It made you hold on to the headrest in front of you. Trying to peer around at the commotion, you didn't expect to be cut off by two black SUVs. A moment later, a ringed hand banged on the taxi's hood.
"Get out of the car."
You knew that voice. And as you looked through the windshield, you could see Bucky Barnes peering back.
He was as poised as he was at the party, and the sharp look had you bracing the seat. The bitter spark of rejection caught the light, burning into brutal frustration. You didn't want to talk to him. You didn't want to see him. Not now.
"No."
He tilted his head to the side at the challenge.
"Get out of the fucking car." Bucky gritted. "I need to talk to you."
His voice was teetering dangerously into territory you had only heard about. It was his back rooms, no nonsense voice that snapped you back into the moment. Like hell it would work on you. So it was to be a standoff, one that that you weren't ready to back down from.
Once Bucky realized your position, he took a new approach. You could hear his intentional steps against the pavement as he reached the driver. He didn't say anything but dug into his pants pocket, his fingers flicking through his wallet smoothly.
"Unlock the car," Bucky ordered, pressing cash bills against the window.
The immediate click of the locks didn't help your bellyache, nor did the split second of peace you had before Bucky forced the door open and pulled you out of the cab.
"Are you crazy?" You barked, forcing him to release you as the cab sped off in the other direction.
But you were left in the middle of the road in Barnes territory, the sweep of their dark SUVs cutting off any chance to get out of this conversation.
"What's gotten into you?"
"I didn't want you to leave the party." He explained, his words softer now. "Not like that."
You couldn't believe him. You followed their advice to try and bag a good guy, but to what end?
"What?" You dared to challenge. "I don't know what you want from me. I'm not in the mood, James."
The curl of his name lingered, making your intentions clear. You never called him by his first name. And Bucky didn't like it one bit.
"Let me take you home."
As if you had a choice.
You choked on a frustrated snarl, wanting to hide and cry away your worries and wanting to claw at him like a villain. You hated it. You hated the pressure of his eyes, blue and dark against the night, to get in the car.
So you lifted your head high, took a steeling breath, and walked ahead of him. You were separated from the rest of the world in the backseat of his company car. The divider was a saving grace. You didn't want one of the drivers to see you like this.
But Bucky followed behind so quickly, getting in and closing the door before you could protest for space. You chose to stare out the window instead of looking back at him. The car lurched forward, and you took a moment to find balance.
"You're unhappy."
"No shit."
"Please," He started, turning his shoulders in toward you. Even out of the corner of your eye, you knew he wouldn't let this go. "Please talk to me. Don't close me out. I hated seeing you leave like that. Whatever Maximoff did, I'll fix it."
"You can't fix it!" You finally said, turning to him and gripping his shoulder in frustration. "You say you want me to be happy, to find someone, and then manage to scare off anyone that has the potential to do it." As your voice raised, heat radiated from your cheeks down your neck. His eyes were wide, listening to your grief. "He left because of you. It's not like you have feelings for me. What's the matter with you?"
You couldn't stand to look at him, not when he was so close. His cologne burned your nose, and you desperately needed him to get out of your system.
"Doll," Bucky breathed. He inched his way closer, not letting the anger of your words settle over him. "What if I did have feelings for you?" You would almost call his stare desperate. And then you confirmed it as his shoulders dropped, turning toward you. "It's all that I've wanted to tell you. And I can't see you with him." He admitted.
He moved with purpose all night, not intending to ruin your time with Pietro but to show you that he was the one who needed you. He should have been the one to hold you between dances and order you fine drinks. He should have picked you up so that you would never dare to get in a yellow cab.
But you weren't some wilting flower. You knew the risks of your following words.
"We're friends, Buck."
You held yourself together. You were strong and brave and gripping your heartstrings.
"Yes," He agreed. "But we…"
And for once, he was at a loss of words. The years wasted pining after him would finally be out in the open. You could finally be free of his torment. His eye contact was overwhelming; if he looked away, you would disappear.
"Look, We've been friends for a long time." And with an ounce more of bravery, you sighed. "But I'd like to be more than friends." You admitted. "I want to be so much more than that."
You were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Bucky leaned closer in earnest, over the seat and bringing his face close. There was no teasing, no torment in his expression.
And with the tip of his chin, you were lost, pulled tight into a kiss and letting it blossom as cold metal snaked around your waist. You dreamed of his touch, and it burned down your throat like honey whiskey.
When you opened your eyes, Bucky had moved. He was no longer in the seat, now chest to chest with you. He was kneeling in the cramped space, the divider shielding you from the driver and the outside world.
"Do you know why Sam offered to help in the first place?" His words were slow as he pulled away, loud enough to hear. "Do you know why Steve jumped on board and corralled us to join? It's because he is tired of me dragging my fucking feet."  
"Bucky-"
But he closed the space for another set of slow kisses, deep and intentional.
"I've been an idiot." He admitted. "The guys know how I feel about you. I think they've always known." Another kiss as you pulled back, gripping the shoulders of his jacket. Expensive fabric under your fingertips, hot breath against yours. You were dizzy.
"And you agreed to help with this idea." You noted.
It wasn't a question, no challenge in your words. He agreed to help find you a man. Bucky took a hefty exhale.
"You know the business. It's not safe –" but you raised your hand with a groan, not buying his excuse.
Your fingers brushed over the curve of his chin, the sharp line of his beard a welcome sensation. God, you only ever dreamed of this. You savored the feel of him, your hand moving up his ear and combing your fingers through his air. Buck's eyes were darker than you've ever seen, his open mouth curving up in awe.
"'s not safe." He whispered. "I'm not gonna put you through that."
It was a weak defense. You knew the coterie of mercs, the warehouses, the shipments. You knew all of it and were aware of the danger. But it wasn't like you could cut ties and leave your life behind. You weren't sure you even wanted to.
"You wanted me to find someone else?" You dared to ask. The whisper died as he shook his head.
"All this deal did was make me jealous." He affirmed. "And tonight," His eyes raked down your frame. He never did finish his thought as lust washed over him. A breath passed between you two. "I never meant for you to hurt over it."
The limited space lets you mimic his actions, noting his heaving chest, blue eyes, and the pout of his kissed lips. How he kneeled down in front of you, crowding your space, made you dizzy. While your mouth curved up into a wanton grin, you couldn't help but chase another kiss.
Each touch melted the last of your anguish. The night was long forgotten as soon as he pressed forward, flattening you against the back of the seat. While you pulled up for air, his other hand moved to cup your chin. And then, with your eyes locked on his, he tilted your chin, eyes staring into the roof of the sedan as you felt lips against your jaw.
Hot, languid kisses burned against your pulse. The scrape of his teeth and burn of his beard drove you wild. And as he pulled back, his hand released your chin, following a mesmerized pattern down your skin.
The palm of his hand cupped your neck, down your shoulder, pulling down the thin strap of your dress. Your soft skin was on display, and Bucky's expression was wonderous. But his hand continued mapping, cupping the curve of your breast. A tactful squeeze left your head falling against the seat, a soft gasp on your lips, and your hand blindly reaching up to cover his. With a sharp breath, you found his eyes again. His pink lips were parted, eyes pleading with you.
You knew Bucky was a man of action, but this was uncharted territory. Your nod and an affectionate squeeze of his hand pulled him from his reverie.
He needed more, craving your skin. And as his hand fell from your chest to a solid grip on your ankle, you craved his exploration.
Shallow breaths were traded for deep, hungry kisses. Years of longing, of yearning for his touch and affection, finally were coming to a head. The brush of his tongue left your mind reeling, and regardless of the heat, a trail of goosebumps followed the path of his hand. Under your dress, he lingered over the smooth skin of your calf, over your knee, up your thigh, and to the meat of your hip. Rough, dexterous fingers carved prints into your skin hot enough to burn.
You refuse to miss a moment, eyes fixed on Bucky's as his palm covers the top of your thigh, the intention sitting heavy in your stomach. A live wire of nerves, you can feel him from the heat of your cheeks buzzing down to your toes.
And then, palming where you needed him most, your mouth dropped open with the softest of moans.
Bucky's eyes are wide, but it doesn't last as he finally lets himself get lost. As his eyes close, you admire the curve of his nose and his soft, dark eyelashes. But Buck is greedy, and as he peels his way under the cloth of your panties, you, too, close your eyes. Fingers are nimble, caressing your dripping seam under the dress.
You're a vision.
Convulsing under his touch, rogue pulls off his fingers drip honey down your thighs. Your breath is heaving, and your chest is dangerously close to falling out of the dress. Bucky finds refuge by rubbing slow, devastating circles against your clit. Every hitch of your breath and moan spur him on until you are staring at him with such reverence he thinks he'll collapse.
There's a magnetism, the long-lasting chemistry drawing you nearer to him. He swallows your moan as he slides a finger inside. You're in a desperate frenzy, pulling him close and arching into his body. He spurs on a need you've never had, demanding his smoldering kiss as you shake in his arms.
He's all you've ever wanted. You're crazy to think it could have ever been anyone else.
And then the car jerked to a stop.
There's a breathless laugh as he pulls away, Bucky's forehead resting on yours. You kept a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing his chin. Maybe, if you just ignored it, the outside world would go away.
That is, until you see a porch light turn on from your periphery. You try not to let embarrassment flood your system as you realize your situation, with one of your closest friends knuckle deep in the back seat.
Bucky doesn't share your distress.
He pressed a kiss to your cheek, finally pulling his head back. Bucky smiled. His fingers lingered longer before pulling away, leaving you empty and wanting.
You must have looked as desperate as him, finally looking down at the brutal strain in his pants. But you had no time to overthink as his fingers carefully plucked at your dress strap. He was putting you back together, smoothing out the burn of his touch as he sat up.
If you begged, you were sure that he'd ravage you right there in the seat. But you tilted your head to look outside. You needed a distraction, anything to regain your good sense.
As you focused on the brownstone, you knew where he took you. You were in front of his house – the Barnes family house. He said he was taking you home.
"This isn't my place."
His smirk reached his eyes, and as he pulled open the door and jumped out, his gaze was fixed on you.
"For fucks sake, doll," Bucky's eyes were soft, still blown out. He held a hand out. "We've known each other our whole lives. I'm crazy about you. Are you gonna come up with me or not?"
And with an ardent stare, as if he hung the stars himself, you reached for his hand.
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99woez · 3 days
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don't talk about it ᰔᩚ j.sc
warnings. smut, best friend!sungchan, roommate!sungchan, arguing, it's a dumb argument but you are fighting this man, physical fighting, just shoving nothing crazy but a physical altercation starts this all, unprotected sex, hair pulling, some angst? idk if i missed something let me know! i also did not proofread this because i got out 5k words in one night which is crazy for me. anyways, enjoy!
wc. 5k
summary. your best friend embarrasses you in front of your campus crush. so, of course, you decide to fight with him in the living room and learn some interesting things about him in the process.
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Sungchan had always been stupidly large, in your opinion.
He was so large that you couldn’t resist the urge to playfully test his strength, curious to see how his fit frame would react to your playful jabs or if he would sway with a gentle nudge. He would playfully push you back, never with full force, but these light-hearted scuffles became a regular part of your friendship. It was a source of joy, a shared silliness, it meant everything.
Except for the times it did.
“You’re so stupid sometimes, oh my god!” You shouted at your so-called “best friend,” shoving hard into his chest. This shove wasn’t like the ones you usually gave him. This one was harsh and mean. There was not a semblance of anything alluding to happiness on your face as you looked up at Sungchan with knitted brows and parted lips, shoving hard into his firm chest once again, this time with a shout of frustration.
If we’re being honest, you two have been drinking. It’s not like you’re shitfaced and neither is he, but the alcohol is just enough to make the world blurry at the edges and your words harsher than you typically allow them to be. His chest, solid as a boulder beneath your pushing palms, doesn't yield like it usually would during your fond roughhousing. He stands firm, his expression teetering between annoyance and worry.
"Stop it," he gruffly says, grabbing your wrists mid-shove. Just like that, the playful laughter that usually echoes between you two gets choked in the tension-filled silence. You try to yank your hands-free, but his grip is firm yet gentle. He was never rough with you, even when the fights turned serious like this. It was a rarity for things to turn nasty, but sometimes Sungchan was so oblivious you couldn’t stop yourself from lashing out at him, especially with a few mixed drinks in your system.
“Let go,” You snapped. Sungchan leans in with a tilt of his head, letting out a “Hm?” as he does so, challenging you.
“Chill out first.” That did the exact opposite of chill you out. You hated it when he took that tone of voice with you, as if you were some child that needed to be put into a timeout. 
There were many things you loved about Sungchan: His kindness, his dedication to anything he sets his mind to, his eyes, you loved a lot about Sungchan, but there were many things you couldn’t stand about him. He was oblivious to the simplest of social cues, he got loud when he was drunk, and the way he comforted people was an absolute joke. If you hadn’t known him for more than half your life and shared an apartment with him, you would’ve ditched him when you two graduated high school.
But you didn’t. Now, you’re stuck with a big, dumb roommate who loves telling the men you like that you like them. God, Wonbin was never going to talk to you again after the scene Sungchan caused trying to get him to give you his number. You still can feel the embarrassment hot in your veins, making you lurch forward and finally give his chest a shove that makes him stumble a few steps.
“I won’t chill out! I won’t! What you did was fucking rude!” You yelled, pointing a finger in his face to punctuate your words and get your point across. Sungchan scoffed, turning his head away from you, but you could see his tongue press against the inside of his cheek, making the skin push out slightly. It was a habit of his you had noticed when you two went to parties together in college. It’s what he does when he’s annoyed and holding himself back, beating someone’s ass. It’s a rare occasion for Sungchan to beat someone’s ass, but when it did happen, it was always deserved. Typically, it would be a drunk guy who wanted to buck up to the biggest guy at the party, a one-sided battle of masculinity that Sungchan always won, no matter who came up to him. You’ve only seen Sungchan throw a punch twice in your entire friendship.
Once, when you were in high school, and the last time was at a party during your junior year of college when a man put his hands on you despite you telling him to fuck off. The other times, he had simply told you about when you’d see him in the kitchen with littered bruises on his body. You think about that night more often than you’d like to admit. Sungchan didn’t hesitate to throw a punch for you, knocking the man clean out by the time he was done with him. It lit a fire in you that you’re not proud to admit. There was just something in his eyes that rubbed your brain right. You would never admit it, but were desperate to see that look again. You wanted to see him angry, to watch him lose control no matter how fucked up it sounds.
“Get your hand out of my face,” Sungchan told you firmly, looking you in the eyes to get his point across, but you weren’t deterred. You step closer to him, finger still in his face.
“No. Not until you apologize. Admit it was rude. You were rude.”
“I wasn’t fucking rude,” Sungchan argues, swatting your hand down when you don’t move it from his face. You bring it back up without a care of the consequences, resulting in a game of him swatting your hand down every time you bring it up.
You two look stupid. Thank God this is in the privacy of your living room.
“You had no right-”
“You were never going to talk to him if I didn’t! You’re a chicken-”
“I’m not a fucking chicken––Oh my god, don’t call me a bird.”
“You’re such a fucking chicken, dude. Do you remember how long it took you to even talk to Shotaro? Months. ‘Took you months to even say hi to him, and that’s because-”
“Shut up.”
“That’s because I had to step it! I was the one to get you to talk to him!” Sungchan continued with a shit-eating grin, voice picking up volume as he leaned down to get closer to you as if you couldn’t hear him clear enough, pointing to himself like he had won some kind of award. Your already flushed cheeks begin to heat up when you remember the Shotaro incident of 2022. He always brought up Shotaro, and even if it was just to pick on you playfully, it still struck a nerve. You were more shy than Sungchan ever was, always letting him start the conversations or introduce you to new people. Half of your friends are Sungchan’s friends; half of the people you’ve dated are because Sungchan knew them first. Every connection in your life could be traced back to Sungchan, which drove you insane.
“Now, you want to talk all this shit because you got embarrassed I had to step in again and help you get some dick,” Sungchan pressed, his grin turning into a smirk as he nodded at his words, feeling them in his being because they’re true. You stared at him with contempt, teeth grinding as your fists balled up tightly. “You should be thanking me. You’re so ungrateful for everything-”
You lunged at him. You swear you don’t have control of your body when you do it, you just throw your entire weight into his chest and hope for the best. Sungchan let out an “Oof!” sound when you collided with him, staggering back and hitting the ground with you on top of him. You act as if you two are playfully wrestling, but none of your movements have an ounce of playfulness in them. You straddled his hips firmly as you shoved at his hands harshly to get them away from grabbing you. You knew once he got his hands on you, it was over. He’d flip you two over, and it’d be done. You couldn’t let him win this. You couldn’t do it. You had to prove it to him.
You don’t know what it was, but you had to prove it.
You grab his hair tightly, jerking his head off the carpet to distract him, tugging hard on the brown locks. Sungchan lets out a yelp that sounds pathetic. His eyes squeezed shut as his large hands wrapped around your wrist to try and pull you off of him.
“Not fair-” He started. You shake his head, eliciting another yelp from him.
“Shut up. Shut the fuck up,” You spat at him, shaking him again. His face contorted in pain and confusion, groaning softly as he did what you told him for once. You couldn’t believe he actually listened. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d get this far. You’re not exactly sure what to do next. So, you shake his head again, making him hiss when you tugged harder on his locks. “Can’t fucking stand you, you know that? You’re such a jerk sometimes. Just big, stupid, and taking up space.” You shake his head around with every word, watching him drop his hands and put them up in front of him in faux surrender, but he doesn’t say anything. He only whined and grunted when you pulled on his hair harder than usual.
You waited for him to spit something back at you, to call you a coward, to say you needed him, but nothing but pants left his plush lips. You furrow your brows in confusion at his silence. Sungchan was never quiet. You shake him again.
“Hello? Say something!” You shake his head again, this time back and forth. You won’t lie. It was fun to have him like this. He acted like some kind of puppet that you were the master of, pulling him around in whichever direction you wanted him to go in, and he just took it. Sungchan sighed in defeat, keeping his eyes shut tightly.
“My dick just twitched.” 
Oh.
“Excuse me?” You couldn’t think of anything else to say. Your hands, which had been roughly pulling at Sungchan's hair, suddenly freeze. Your heart pounds in your chest as you gaze down at him, cocking a brow at him. His face is flushed a deep crimson, though whether from embarrassment or something else, you can't tell.
"I said," he starts again, much slower this time, swallowing hard, "My... my dick just twitched."
You blink at his repeated confession, not expecting him to repeat the words. There’s a tension growing between the two of you that you’ve never felt before, making your throat dry as you stare at Sungchan’s embarrassed face, watching his chest rise and fall as he pants beneath you. Flashes of what he’d look like without his shirt flash in your brain, wondering what sounds he’d make as you sink down on him, how his eyes would look, how the muscles would ripple under his––Jesus Christ, get it together, girl. You remind yourself, clearing your throat down at him.
“Like…Seriously?” Sungchan nods at your dry words, opening his eyes slowly to look up at you. A switch in your brain is flipped when you see his big brown eyes. He looks utterly pathetic like this, hair in your hand revealing his forehead, eyes pleading for something silent, and lips in a perfect soft pout. You wanted to take his picture like the actual definition of pitiful.
You chuckle at him, shaking him again and tugging his hair hard to see if it really did anything for him. He whines again, shutting his eyes as his hands lurch towards your hips, holding tightly with a sharp breath through his teeth. You smirk at his reaction, raising your brows in slight shock it was this easy to get him going. Maybe it was the alcohol, you think. You’ve seen Sungchan shove his tongue down girls’ throats just mere minutes after he met them, but this is you. You’re his best friend, his roommate, the girl who beat his ass for talking to her crush for her. You know you’re pretty, and Sungchan is just a man, but you’re still caught off guard by it all.
Your palm still cradled his scalp, thumb lazily tracing small circles at the base of his hairline. Sungchan’s hands on your hips squeeze gently, fingers digging into your flesh just a bit more than necessary and causing a shiver to wind its way up your spine.
Without thinking, you leaned forward and claimed Sungchan's lips in a rough, desperate kiss. His taste was different than any guy you've ever kissed - salty with a hint of beer and lime from the drink he had tonight. You wrapped your hand tightly around the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you as your other hand found its way under his shirt to feel his warm skin. You didn't let up when he moaned into your mouth, feeling your touch while he tentatively kissed you back. Your anger turned into desperation quickly as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, tasting him fully now. His lips were soft and plush against yours as they parted slightly to let you in further. You moaned the moment your tongues slid together, digging your nails into his toned chest as he pressed in further, sucking softly on the slick muscle in your mouth.
Sungchan's hands moved up your body, gripping your waist and still pulling you closer. The fabric of your shirt scratching against his rough palms made you shiver with anticipation for more contact. You grind down on him out of instinct, feeling the bulge in his pants grow as he groans against your mouth, wanting more from both of you. His scent filled your senses - a mix of sweat and cologne and something uniquely Sungchan that made you want more.
The sound of his rhythmic grunts filled the room, a mix of desire and surprise in every breath he took. His fingers dug into your skin through your shirt, and you moaned into his mouth once more. Your breath hitched when he bit down on your lower lip gently, making you gasp and whimper into the kiss before breaking it, desperate for air. You gasp softly when you part, watching with hazy eyes as he pants as well, lips slick with spit and typically wide eyes heavy with lust.
You tug at his shirt, nodding before he has any time to say something that will kill the mood.
“Take it off.”
And he listens like a dog, pushing himself up and pulling his white T-shirt over his head, tossing it aside before wrapping his arms around your torso and pulling you flush against him. There are no thoughts in your head right now, only Sungchan, touching Sungchan, kissing Sungchan, fucking Sungchan––Holy shit, you were totally going to fuck Sungchan. That hits you harder than you thought it would. You’ve thought about it before. How could you not? He’s beautiful, kind, and built like a God. Of course, you thought about fucking Sungchan. It was nothing like this, however. Typically, you thought of him having your face pressed into the mattress, back arched, and fucking you from behind like he was getting paid. You would’ve never guessed you’d be on top, but it’s not like you can’t get into it for Sungchan. You’d do anything for Sungchan.
"Are you sure?" Sungchan whispers against the skin of your neck, his hands finding your hips again to steady you against him, his bare chest warm and firm. You're taken aback for a moment, not expecting the question. But then you realize that he’s always been considerate, even when he’s on the verge of losing control.
"Yeah," you say firmly, the word slipping out without thought and causing heat to flare in Sungchan's eyes.
Without hesitation, you reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head swiftly. The cool air hits your skin, making goosebumps spread across your chest and arms. Sungchan's eyes widen as he takes you in, his gaze making you feel exposed and powerful. You struggle to pull your jeans off, having to crawl off of him to kick them off in haste. You hate how desperate you look but can’t bring yourself to care. Sungchan rolls on his side when you crawl off of him, lingering towards you like a lost puppy. His eyes watch as more of your skin is revealed to him, letting out a groan when he sees the smooth skin of your thighs.
Before you have the chance to climb back on top of him, he leans in, kissing the side of your thigh with a moan. You let out a gasp in shock but watched him with parted lips, threading your hands through his hair again as he dragged his lips all over the expanse of your thigh, leaving a trail of glistening spit as he did. He grabs your ankle, pulling you towards him roughly, making you fall back onto the carpet with another gasp. You don’t argue for once; you are too invested in what Sungchan will do next, even if you care.
His lips pepper kisses across the inside of your thighs, nipping at the sensitive skin with deep breaths as he inched closer and closer to your core.
He licks his lips as he hooks a long finger in your underwear, pulling them to the side. A moan leaves his lips when he sees your pussy for the first time, looking down at it like he’s looking at a coveted piece of art. You watch him closely, ears turning pink as he lifts two fingers to his lips, licking the tips of them before bringing them down between your legs to rub circles into your clit. His gaze stays on your cunt, watching how the pretty pink flesh moves beneath his fingers, biting his bottom lip when he hears you let out a whine, seeing your thighs tremble at just the slightest touch. Finally, his dark gaze lifts to meet yours.
With his eyes trained on yours, he presses a long finger inside you. A sigh leaves your lips as your eyes flutter shut, gripping the carpet with one hand while the other dug into your side, biting your bottom lip as he pressed another finger inside. You moan this time, feeling your walls begin to stretch for him. You hear him groan quietly, making your eyes open. You’re immediately met with his gaze that never left your face. He looks like he’s in a trance, staring at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You can’t tell how it makes you feel, but you feel hot, like you’re boiling from the inside out. It aches, but it’s so intoxicating that you want more of it.
You whimper at how his fingers slickly slide out, then back in, watching him get lost in the sight of your reactions. You’re so wet for him. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you got so quickly. You swallow thickly as your chest rises and falls with each pant. His eyes stay on your face as his thumb presses against your clit, rubbing slow circles that make you shiver with a choked-out moan. His free hand cups your jaw, tilting your head back slightly, forcing your lips apart to look deeply into your eyes as he watches you crumble under him.
Feeling emboldened, Sungchan takes his fingers out of you slowly, letting out a long moan when they leave you empty. He lays a line of sweet pecks against your inner thighs, leaving tiny bites and nips on the soft flesh until he reaches the hem of his boxers. With a breathy "Fuck," he tugs them down enough to reveal his hard cock pressing against the fabric. You gulp as it springs from its confines, averting your eyes momentarily before snapping them back up to challenge his gaze. His thick length twitches with anticipation before he guides it towards you, slick with pre-cum leaking from the tip. Your heart stops for a beat before racing wildly in your chest again.
"Wrap your legs around me," Sungchan orders softly, not breaking eye contact even when you hesitate for a second before obeying. He grunts when he feels your folds pressing against his cock, pushing inside without a moment’s hesitation. He slides in so easily, groaning at how smooth the glide inside you is. He sounds as beautiful as he looks, making you moan as well. The way his cock splits your walls apart for him is delicious, to say the least, as a euphoria fills your veins as your walls spasm around him with another moan, this one airier than the one before.
“Fuck,” Sungchan curses, fingers digging into the carpet next to your head as he looks down at where your bodies were connected before back at your face. You two lock eyes again, making your heart hammer in your chest harder than before. Still, you meet his gaze with a quiet whimper, hands wrapping around his strong biceps as you bat your lashes at him.
“Feels good, Sungie?” You ask in a too-sweet voice. You rarely whip out for him unless you ask for a favor, like getting something off the top shelf or making him finish your short answer response questions because you don’t want to. Sungchan would do anything for you, and you’d do anything for Sungchan. He takes a deep breath at your tone, lips curling into a smirk before he bites his bottom lip, nodding.
Then, his hips roll into yours.
Sungchan's thick cock feels even better than you could have ever imagined, stretching you wide and fulfilling you completely. His hips roll into yours slowly, making you moan and whine beneath him with each gentle thrust. The way he fills you up is mind-numbing, his smirk turning into a grimace as he leans down to capture your lips in a rough kiss.
Your walls clamp down on him at the contact, purposely trying to get more friction between the two of you. Sungchan groans against your lips, slipping his hands under your back and lifting you up onto his lap effortlessly. You gasp into his mouth, feeling his hard chest pressed against yours. Your heart pounds in your chest as he starts to fuck you properly now, eyes closing at the sensation that washes over you. You swear you can feel his heartbeat against your chest, but you convince yourself you’re just dreaming it.
You feel every inch of him inside of you, making your walls tighten around him with every snap of his hips into yours. A tiny sob leaves your lips when he hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. You dig your nails into the flesh of his shoulders, jaw-dropping and eyes rolling back at how your body moves like a rag doll and at how sharply his hips snap up into you. He groans into your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin before sucking softly to soothe it with his tongue. You can't help but shudder in his lap; this feels so good that it hurts. His hands hold you in place, one on your waist and the other cradling the back of your head as he takes rough control of the kiss again, teeth scraping against soft skin with every thrust. He pants against your lips, moaning your name softly and how good you make him feel. It's all too much for you; all too real with Sungchan, yet so not real. You’re fucking your roommate on your living room floor––You’re fucking your best friend on your living room floor.
Your hands find their way into his hair again, holding onto him tightly as he continues to fuck into you like your his, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck and over your collarbone. You mewl at the feeling, arching your back into his chest as he hits that sweet spot inside you once more. You could feel the warmth spreading through your veins, making you dizzy with need. The room spins around you as he thrusts harder, faster, deeper into your already aching pussy. His moans mix with yours, their tongues meeting in a messy kiss that speaks volumes about how much you both want this.
Your legs quiver as he takes control of the situation, fingers digging into your skin softly before trailing up to caress your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra. You let out a strangled cry when he pinches at one of your nipples roughly, making you moan into his mouth even more, looking down to watch him work with a breath through your teeth. Your hands' card through the hair on the back of his head, eyes shutting to focus solely on the pleasure coursing through your veins with every drag of Sungchan’s cock against your walls.
"Sun-Sungchan," you whimper. The sound of his name on your lips is like music to his ears. Your body is sweaty and flushed, a beautiful sight for him to feast his eyes upon. He growls lowly when he finally meets your gaze again, heat pooling in your lower belly at the raw desire he displays.
“You’re so fucking good, baby. ‘Should’ve fucked you soon, hm?” Sungchan groans, his voice creased with effort as he continues to pound into you. You can’t help but respond with a needy whimper, skin burning under his touch as you nod your head dumbly. You feel him everywhere, and it's overwhelming - the way he’s stretched you wide open, the way he feels pushing deep inside of you, the way his hands are holding you in place as if afraid that you'll slip away from underneath him.
Your heart beats furiously against your chest, matching rhythm with the throbbing ache between your legs. You're close, too close, but not quite there yet. Sungchan seems to sense your growing desperation, the flash of triumph in his eyes telling you he knows exactly what he's doing to you. He reaches down and begins rubbing slow circles on your clit again, thumb pressing against the sensitive nub just enough to make you cry out in pleasure.
“You gonna cum for me?” He whispers against your throat, teeth dipping into your soft flesh, causing a sharp gasp from your lips. You nod frantically in response, words failing you as white-hot pleasure courses through your veins. He laughs softly - a dark chuckle that sends shivers down your spine.
The way you melt against him is intoxicating. He grunts, unable to think straight as he feels his own orgasm building up. His hips move even faster, his cock sliding in and out of your welcoming heat with each thrust. He groans against your skin, panting heavily as he fucks you like it’s his last dying will, wet sounds filling the room that mixes with your pants and moans. You squeeze your eyes shut at the sounds you’re making, cheeks growing more read because of it. Sex is so embarrassing sometimes.
He pulls away from your neck just a little to look into your eyes, panting heavily as they roll back in pleasure. Sungchan's lips curl into a smirk at seeing how lost you get. Your walls tighten around his cock once again as you cum around him, making Sungchan's eyes roll back into his head and tilt his head back with a melodic groan that has you moaning as well. You feel him tremble beneath you as he finally cums inside of you, making you smirk softly as your hands run up and down his back.
You throw your head back and cry out his name, orgasm hitting you hard and fast like a freight train. He watches as you finally hit your peak, jaw-dropping at how gorgeous you look when you feel good. Your walls clamp down around him, and your muscles spasm in ecstasy; even through the haze of pleasure, you feel every drop of his cum spilling into you, the heat of it searing into your core. Your body convulses and shivers under the onslaught of pleasure, your voice breaking on Sungchan's name. 
Sungchan stays still for a moment longer, his cock still buried deep inside of you. His chest heaves against yours, ragged gasps filling the space between your sated bodies. He blinks slowly, his gaze holding yours captive as he pants out your name. You take his face into his hands with a deep breath, leaning in and kissing his lips without a second though. He moans into the kiss, holding your wrists gently as he does so.
You both stay like that for a while. Bodies joined together in the aftermath of your shared orgasm. The only sounds in the room are your gasping breaths and the rapid beat of your heart pounding in sync. Cautiously, Sungchan pulls out of you gently, making your pussy squeeze around nothing instinctively at the loss, a soft whimper leaving your lips.
He rolls off to one side, pulling you with him so that you're tucked against his side. His arm wraps around you and keeps you close to him, fingers dancing along your sweaty skin lightly. Neither of you speak for long moments, too wrapped up in trying to regain control of your breathing and coming down from your highs even to fathom thinking of words right now.
Eventually, though, Sungchan breaks the silence with a soft whisper, "You okay?"
Your lips twitch into a tired smile against his chest, pressing a small kiss there before nodding. "Yeah," you huff out after a moment, "That was…"
"Crazy," he finishes for you, making you shut your eyes with a laugh, nodding in agreement.
“Yeah…That was crazy,” You whisper, moving your head to rest on his chest to soak up more of his warmth. Your cheek squishes against his chest as you lay there, looking down at his spent cock resting against his thigh. It hits you that you’re both naked and just had sex on your living room floor. This calls for a conversation at the least but you can’t drag yourself to start it, completely spent from what just occurred.
So, instead, you close your eyes.
You’ll deal with it in the morning.
418 notes · View notes
seeingivy · 1 day
Text
sweet irony
ryomen sukuna x f!reader
**part of my best friend's older brother fic
previous part linked here
--
you stare down at your phone – the picture of you and sukuna cheesing into the camera staring back at you – as the quiet pulsating starts teeming in your head. 
he’s dead. you’ve wished him dead for years, hundreds of times in passing, and now he’s actually dead. 
and now you’ll have to tell yuuji. 
you take a beat before walking back into the sweltering hot air of the bar, the blaring music making your heart race as you push through the crowd. and it takes you twenty minutes before you reach the table where yuuji is again, standing still to watch as he leans his head against megumi on the stool, while nobara finishes off the last of his drink.  
you can’t help but pause, your heart sinking into the deepest pits of dread, as he digs the cherry in the drink out of the ice, as you walk up to his side, shaking at his shoulder. 
your dad is dead. 
“hey, you’re back! do you want the another?” yuuji asks, the stem of the cherry sticking out of the side of his mouth as he holds a shot glass in front of your face, almost tauntingly, 
“no, no. um –” 
your dad is dead. your piece of shit dad is dead and you have to leave. 
you take the glass from him, accidentally slamming it down too hard on the table to the point where it shatters, as yuuji looks over at you, eyes wide. there’s a quiet gasp as almost everyone around you gives you a weary look, before turning back to their own conversations. 
you look down at your hand, the smallest amount of crimson red staring back at you, as you ball your hand into a fist and ignore it. 
“jesus. you okay, she-hulk?” he asks. 
you look back up at him. 
“yeah, it’s fine. we have to go home.” you respond. 
“what? don’t tell me you’re going to start being a bore now that you’re old. we just got here and we’re not leaving until sukuna is dragging all four of us out on our asses.” yuuji responds, earning him a laugh and a smile from nobara and megumi. 
“just come with me. we can talk on the way.” you respond, reaching for his wrist as you start pulling.
“we’re celebrating your birthday! after someone ruined it, mind you…” yuuji jokes, pulling you back towards the table. 
“shut up! how was i supposed to know that maki and mai were going to make a scene?” nobara mutters. 
“you literally started the fight, nobara.” megumi mutters. 
“and i apologized for that!” nobara responds, reaching over to flick megumi in the side of the forehead. 
you place your hand on yuuji’s bicep, squeezing hard, as you feel hot tears in your eyes and an almost soreness in your throat – knowing that whatever you say next is irrevocably about to change something for him as you lean forward. 
“yuuji. your dad passed away, we…we have to go.” 
megumi and nobara turn their heads, the former spilling the drink in his glass all over the table. 
“what?” yuuji asks. 
yuuji subconsciously pulls his arm back, eyes incredulous as he looks down at you. 
“yuuji. really, i…” 
“what did you just say?” megumi asks. 
“i…i don’t know how it happened, sukuna was so brief on the phone when he asked us to come that..” 
“wait, what?” nobara says. 
“sukuna. he called me and asked me to bring yuuji back. or both of us, i don’t..” 
you watch as yuuji digs his phone out of his pocket – a plethora of calls from both sukuna and his mom shining on his screen – as he scrolls through the texts, before he looks back up at you and swallows hard. 
“i had more to drink than you did.” he responds, his voice stiff as gravel. 
the look in his eyes is haunting. his dad is dead. 
“i’ll bring the car around.” you respond. 
“megumi. go with her. sukuna would kill me if he found out i let her walk out there alone.” yuuji responds, his focus halfhearted as he looks down at his phone, dialing his mom’s number as he presses the phone against his ear. 
his dad is dead. he needs a second. 
megumi gives you a curt nod before linking in his arm with yours and pushing his way through the crowd, uncharacteristically rough as the two of you run out the doors. and you’re both speed walking down the block, hands shaking as you pull open the doors of the car, and shove the key into the engine. 
“oh god, his mom is probably losing her shit. she’s going to be a mess when we get there, megumi.” you mutter. 
you pull out of the spot, fighting the urge to honk at the hounds of pedestrians that cross, as you nervously twiddle your fingers on the wheel. 
“sukuna’s probably there, alone, right now.” you mumble. 
you feel your throat dry. 
“i hope that…that his dad’s not still there when we get there. i don’t even..” 
“i’m not coming.” he whispers.. 
you accidentally push the break too hard and the car jolts, shooting megumi an apologetic smile as one of the groups of pedestrians flip you off. 
megumi notes that what he said came out a little more harshly than he intended it to, but it’s only because of his frustration, and what the questions he knows are going to follow after. 
“what? of course you are, he’s…” 
“i mean, i can’t.”
you frown. 
“of course, you can. in fact, you should. he’s your boyfriend.” 
it takes a split second for you to realize why yuuji’s always so defensive when it comes to you and sukuna. surely megumi can’t be serious. 
“y/n.” 
“megumi. you spend like every waking second with the guy. what’s your issue now?” you seethe. 
“i’m not going to make things more complicated by meeting his mom for the first time on the night she became a widow, y/n.” megumi responds. 
you swallow hard, the soreness in your throat making your eyes water, as you give him a nod and clench the steering wheel so hard that it makes your skin nearly break. 
of course that’s why he couldn’t go. you’re an idiot. 
the stinging on your palm from the glass only gets worse as you pull up outside the bar, and honk twice for good measure. 
“one thing, y/n.” megumi states. 
“what?” 
“i know that sukuna is your person. but yuuji’s mine. please don’t forget to be there for him too.”  he begs. 
you reach forward, squeezing megumi’s hand in yours. 
“of course i won’t forget about him. i’ll send you updates, okay?” you whisper. 
he gives you a nod as yuuji and nobara come tumbling out of the front door a few minutes later, nobara pressing him into a hard hug before letting ago, and rubbing at her biceps in the cold. and it gets even worse as you watch megumi and yuuji – being so openly affectionate while not being black out drunk for the first time – as they lean their foreheads against each others, before kissing goodbye. 
the entire car shifts as yuuji sits in the car, eyes teary and sniffling as he looks over at you, and nods. 
“let’s go.” 
it feels wrong to leave megumi behind, but you do it anyway. 
--
it takes an hour and a half to get there. yuuji’s uncharacteristically quiet, leaning his head against the glass of the window, as you try to drive as fast as you can on the highway. your headache, the dread, the stinging in your hand – it all seemed to get worse as time goes on, as you get closer to your house, and to whatever’s waiting for you. 
halfway through you offer yuuji your uninjured hand, which he takes, and doesn’t let go of as the two of you walk to the porch. 
“wait.” yuuji whispers. 
“what? what is it?” 
yuuji pauses, heaving a sigh before he looks at you, eyes watery. 
“i want one more second of normal before…before i…” 
“of course, yuuji.” you mumble back, leaning forward to tuck yourself into his embrace, his arms shaking as he wraps them around you. 
and you get what he means – you can feel your heart sink as you hear the raised voices, and what you’re sure is mrs. itadori’s wailing, as you squeeze yuuji harder. 
“you’re always so warm, y/n.” yuuji mumbles. 
you give him a smile as you pull back and ring on the doorbell. and it’s a split second before 
sammy swings the door open, eyes wide as she wraps her arms around yuuji first. 
“hey kid. you okay?” she murmurs. 
“yeah, sam..” 
“the moms and sukuna are in the dining room. go, go.” she whispers, rubbing his back once more for good measure before pushing him in the right direction. 
and then sammy looks back at you, giving you a smile, before she immediately crumbles into a mess of tears. 
“holy shit, y/n. i’m so fucking glad you’re here.”
you open up your arms, taken aback by the mess of her braid and the state she’s in, as she tucks herself into your neck, her tears spilling onto your skin. and you rub circles into her back in unison with her panting breaths, before gesturing for her to explain. 
“he just collapsed out of nowhere. i was in the fucking bathroom for gods sake and i just heard them shouting before…before mrs. itadori literally screamed bloody murder…i just came out and..” she whispers. 
you squeeze her a little bit harder, her cries getting stifled into your shoulder as you whisper into her ear, trying to calm her down. 
“sammy.” you whisper. 
“his pulse was gone. i did cpr for twenty minutes before they got here and they said there was nothing i could have done. i’m a fucking nurse, for fucks sake, and i just…i don’t even…” 
“you did what you could have.” you murmur. 
you can tell that she doesn’t believe you. and that she’s in some kind of shock from the way her eyes are so lifeless – the only thing convincing you that she's still really there with you being the quiet breaths that leave her mouth. 
after ten minutes of holding her, she pulls back, wiping at her nose. 
“i can’t believe he’s dead.” she mutters miserably. 
“me too.” 
“is…am i shitty for being upset? he’s an asshole but…but he was around for so long and well –” 
“no, sammy. we’ve known him forever.” you affirm. . 
“you should check on sukuna, by the way. they asked him questions for a while when he got here, because…because mrs. itadori and i were too hysterical. mom helped but she didn’t know most of the stuff and..” 
you wonder if he had been afforded time to cry yet. though you knew how these things go and that somehow, he’d be the last one to get the privilege to process it all. 
“okay, come on.” you respond, the two of you linking your arms together as you walk into the dining room. 
you feel your heart pinch as you walk into the dining room – at the sight of both mrs. itadori and yuuji crying – with sukuna’s hand slung across yuuji’s chair. there’s an almost…gaunt look on sukuna’s face, devoid of any emotion, as he only locks his eyes with yours in recognition, before turning his attention back to yuuji.
you give a small wave to your own mother, who gives you a halfhearted smile, before placing a she places a glass of water in front of yuuji and mrs. itadori, and taking the seats next to them. 
sammy’s crying at your side again, quietly muffling her own tears into your shoulder, as you squeeze at her side, before setting her down in the chair before leaving to get her water. and  it’s only in the kitchen that you realize that the inner part of your hand is a bloody mess, with the stained red going all the way down to your wrist, as you walk over to the sink. 
“what happened?” 
you nearly jump to find sukuna at your side, leaning over your shoulder as he eyes the red in the sink, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, the wetness dripping onto his shirt. 
he doesn’t hug back. he’s softens underneath you, his shoulders less stiff, but he doesn’t hug back. 
“nothing. it was just a glass back at the bar. you…what happened to you? are you okay? what can i do to help because i know that…” 
sukuna leans back, offering you a halfhearted smile, before reaching for the closest drawer and pulling a glass box of bandages and alcohol wipes out. 
“let me clean it.” 
you frown before holding your hand out for him, watching as he quietly opens the packet, and gently cleans the area, before wrapping it in a white bandage. and when he touches the inner portion of your wrist, he looks up at you before placing the back of his hand against your forehead. 
“you’re running hot.” he states. 
“it’s warm in here.” you respond. 
“it’s not. you’re getting a cold.” 
yuuji’s comment from earlier makes sense now. you sigh, noting the soreness in your throat feeling almost swollen now, as you shake your head at him. 
“really. what can i do to help? i know this is a lot and…” you mumble. 
you’re unable to place the expression on sukuna’s face. it’s almost like he cringes. 
“i’m right here.” 
“can you stay with yuuji?” he asks. 
you pause. 
“what?” 
that’s not what you had in mind. 
“we have to do the funeral sooner than later. saturday is our best bet with everyone having work off so i have to pull shit together, really fast. and i can do it, but…but not while dealing with both of them. can you stay with him? please?” 
the question dies on your tounge. what about you? 
“yeah, of course i can, but –” 
sukuna nods, before placing a bottle of nyquil in your uninjured hand. 
“take this twice a day.” he responds, squeezing your shoulder once as he retreats back out to the main room. 
--
you don’t see sukuna for two days. or well, you do, but he’s always preoccupied. not really there. on the phone with the funeral planner, comforting his mom, or dealing with the hospital bills and belongings that were left behind. 
he declines your offer to sleep with him, because he sleeps on the floor in his moms room. he doesn’t eat the breakfast you because he has to go pick out the flowers – and doesn’t make any jokes about how he’d save himself from the food poisoning before eating your food. 
it’s just as well you suppose, because you really do get a fever, and staying with yuuji takes up enough of your time. 
unlike the former – a solid fortress of almost nothing – yuuji swings between two moods, either being awfully quiet and insatiably angry. 
you’re not sure which one is better. the lack of babbling from yuuji is haunting in every situation – but it’s so hard to discern what it is that he’s feeling that sometimes all you can do is crawl into his bed with him and stare at the ceiling together. 
you were half convinced that it did nothing until the second day, when yuuji offered you a thank you for the silence before trotting off to shower. 
the anger is a little bit easier to handle. only because whatever it is that he is feeling comes pouring out of his mouth so freely that you’re at least able to pinpoint what it is that makes him mad. 
that he’s dead. that he died without changing. that he won’t ever change and that in the grand scheme of things, yuuji’s history will always be murked by a shitty, homophobic asshole. 
“he’s such a fucking prick.” yuuji mutters, angrily slamming the door of his closet, as you readjust on his bed. 
was. he was such a prick. 
“and why the fuck is my mom crying so much? god knows how many bottles of wine she’s fucking drank trying to temper the fucking rage he filled her with. she should be happy that she doesn’t have to deal with him anymore.” 
yuuji looks over at you, quickly handing you the tissue that you were reaching for, before returning to his rant. 
“like grow a fucking spine. she’s making sukuna do everything. he’s only fucking twenty-five, for fucks sake. all i’ve watched her do is fucking ball her eyes out and lie down on that god damn couch while he plans the entire funeral and spends lal day calling god knows who.” 
yuuji’s nervous pacing makes the jacket of his suit fall off of the hanger, his irritation clearly getting worse, as you lift your hands, gesturing for him to take a seat as you reach for it. you lift it off the floor, sling it back onto the hanger and make a mental note to steam the crease before the funeral tomorrow, before turning back to him and taking a seat at his side. 
you lean your head on his shoulder, as he brings his hand up to your hair, tangling through the knots. 
“i wish megumi could be here.” he mumbles, voice quiet. 
“me too. i…sammy and i actually talked to your mom about it and..” you start. 
“i know. sukuna told me.” 
yuujji pauses, running his fingers over the pink skin on your palm, before sighing.
“it’s nice but, he’d probably roll over in his grave if megumi came.” yuuji states. 
“he’d probably get out of his casket just to yell at you one more time.” you mutter. 
yuuji laughs, the sound making you smile. 
“and then he’d see you sitting in between me and sukuna and slut shame you one last time for good measure.” he adds. 
“and then probably have a second heart attack when he sees sammy sitting there with mai.” 
the two of you stare at each other blankly before bursting out into laughter, albeit a little bit too uncontrollably, as you reach to shut the door to stop everyone else from hearing. 
“oh my god. i fucking forgot about that. he’d probably have an aneurysm if he found out sammy was bi.” 
“he would fully go into septic shock. he’d probably something strangely homoerotic and spend twenty minutes trying to convince her that everyone was a little gay.” 
“holy shit! i totally forgot he said that. and then he’d somehow blame me for it. like i made her gay somehow by rubbing it off on her.” 
you snort. 
“and naturally, he’d start yelling at our moms too. saying that they let us all be a little too wild when we were kids and that’s why we’re all ungrateful..” you add. 
“i believe his preferred term of endearment was ungrateful little assholes. and don’t kid yourself, according to him, the root of all evil can –  and always will be – traced back to me. ” 
the two of you turn your heads to the doorway, to where sukuna’s standing. you jolt up at the sight of him, his eyes red and tired, as you look up at him, giving him a smile. 
“hi sukuna. how are –” 
sukuna sticks the back of his hand against your forehead, clearly bothered by how warm you’re still running, before dropping his hand. his fingertips trail down your skin, the length of your elbow to your fingers, before he presses the bottle into your hand. 
“antibiotic for five days. if you still feel bad, then an extra two days.” he states, holding the water out in front of you. 
it’s the same as the time yuuji punched you. he’s uncharacteristically inexpressive, but still attentive. 
“when did you have time to go?” 
“i had to get his clothes from the hospital. and his phone and the car keys, they were all in his pocket.” 
“thank you. do need anything from me?” 
“still have nyquill?” 
he avoids the conversation, like he always does, in the rare seconds you’re allowed to speak to him.. you pretend it doesn’t sting. 
“yes.” 
sukuna leans forward, tucking the stray hairs behind your ear, before turning to yuuji. 
“day after tomorrow, up at six both of you. the funeral starts at seven and we’ll be back here after for the condolences.” 
“got it.” yuuji responds and you nod. 
sukuna disappears as fast as he showed up. 
and while you felt like you were isolated in the feeling – that he was slipping away, on another planet from you when he was only two doors down – you and yuuji talk about it the night before the funeral. 
“does it bother you?” yuuji asks. 
you can’t sleep the night before and neither can he – the two of you cramped up in his tiny bed and staring at the tiny glow in the dark stars you pressed to the ceiling years prior. they’re peeling off, half of them already having fell into the crevices between the bed in the wall years ago. 
“your dad?” you murmur. 
“no. sukuna.” 
“what do you mean?” 
“does it bother you that he won’t let you help him?” yuuji asks. 
you sigh, mulling over the thought in your head. of course it bothers you. you felt like you were failing the most important test. 
“i’m not saying that in a shit talking type of way. i just meant…as an observation. as a friend.” yuuji adds. 
you smile. 
“i know. i guess it does. i just feel like we made really good progress and that…that i’d at least tumbled down most of his walls. but every time i see him, it kind of feels like they’re back up. maybe even worse than before.” 
“what do you mean?” 
“he was always a little reserved but it didn’t take much to get him to open up. he’d always give in when i asked. but he just kind of brushes me off now. i’m not mad about it, because i understand, but i wish i could just do more.” you respond. 
yuuji readjusts, leaning over on his side, to look at you. and you mimic his actions till the two of you are facing each other, cheeks pressed into the pillows as you try to make out the features of his face. 
“don’t take it personally.” yuuji responds. 
you sigh. 
“really. in my experience, he…he’s never been able to let go until things are fully settled.” 
“that’s what scares me. your dad isn’t going to stop being dead.” you whisper. 
yuuji nods. 
“he won’t leave you.” 
“i know that. i just need him to come back to me.” you respond. 
yuuji readjusts under the sheets. there’s a quiet beat before he talks again. 
“will you stand with us at the condolences tomorrow? i think he’d like it if you were nearby. and god knows i need someone to stand there with me.” 
“of course, i will.” 
--
almost every person you’ve ever known seems to cycle through their house the next day. the funeral was crowded and you luckily for you, you were stuck for the most part, with sammy on one side and yuuji on the other, so you were able to avoid it. 
but the house was different. in a swimming sea of black, you and yuuji have awkward sets of interactions every few minutes. your third grade teacher, the hostess who kicked the two of you out of the sushi restaurant once, and the weird guy who gets drunk every thursday at the district. 
this town was way too small.  
yuuji sees nobara at the door, giving you a go ahead to go find where sukuna was lingering, as you start making your way through the halls. and it takes a few minutes, but you find him in the kitchen, tucking the envelopes and letters into the drawer as he reaches for his tie and loosens the knot. 
“hi.” 
you watch as he immediately stiffens, sharply turning his head to the left, before releasing. 
“oh. hey. i thought you were someone else.” 
“nope! just little old me.” you respond. 
sukuna pauses, slowly closing the drawer, before turning to you and cupping the side of your face. you welcome the touch – your chest panging at how long it’s been since you’ve even seen him, let alone touched him – before pressing a kiss to his palm. 
“do you feel better?” he asks 
“yeah. thank you.” 
he gives you a halfhearted smile, before dropping his hands down your back and securing his hand around your waist. you lean into his touch, pressing your cheek to his shoulder, and taking in the scent of his cologne. 
“i have to go back out.” he mumbles. 
“i know.” you respond. 
he looks down at you, giving you a smile, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. you give him a smile, before he leans down and squints his eyes at you. 
“been far too long since i’ve kissed you, hasn’t it?” 
“what?” 
“you’re blushing. and i just kissed your forehead.” 
you laugh, lightly trying to shove him away. but he’s too fast, hands on your waist before he leans forward, fully smiling this time and pulling you closer. it’s the first one you’ve seen in days. it makes your heart ache. 
“it’s normal to blush when your boyfriend kisses you.” you defend. 
he shakes his head, playfully poking at the side of your cheek before dropping his hand. 
“you’re always greedy. so greedy that you got so used to it. i usually have to rile you up in five different ways before i see that pretty flush creep down your neck.” 
“you’re a pervert. read the room.” 
sukuna rolls his eyes. 
“i am reading the room. you and i are the only ones in it.” he deadpans. 
“every person we know is outside.” you whisper. 
“come on. one kiss and i’ll go back.” he whispers back. 
“sukuna.” 
“please.” 
you roll your eyes before placing both of your hands on his cheeks and leaning forward. and as many comments as you made about reading the room and trying to deny it, you’re way too excited to lean forward – nearly smacking your nose into his – as you lock your lips with his. 
but it’s nothing like you expected. 
because while he was joking a few minutes prior, the kiss is so soft, dripping with longing that it takes you by surprise. it reminded you of the quiet moments – when he’d trace the freckles on your cheek or press kisses to your knuckles before bed – so overwhelming, so intimate that you felt like he had creeped up inside of you. 
when you flicker your eyes open, his eyes are filled with tears. 
“i’m sorry for avoiding you.” he whispers. 
“that’s okay, you…” 
“i knew this would happen if i was around you for too long.” he responds. 
you pause, taken aback by his words. 
“what?” 
“i wouldn’t be able to keep it together.” he responds, voice cracking as the tears start spilling down his cheeks.
you frown, reaching forward to wipe the wetness away.
“you don’t have to keep it together.” you whisper. 
“we both know i do.” he responds, his gaze wavering to the floor. 
you feel your heart drop, at the mere premise, before pressing yourself closer to him, feeling him sag nearly his entire weight onto you. he presses a kiss on your shoulder that makes you shiver. 
“can we please talk when we go home? just a few more days before…” 
“yeah. just you and me, okay?” 
he nods, lifting your hands against his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles.
"don't be hurt if I avoid you."
"you could never hurt me. i know whatever you do, there's a reason for it."
sukuna groans, before leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to your cheek.
"you're perfect, you know that?"
you give him a teasing grin, before shrugging.
"i can't help it." you joke.
he smiles, before leaning forward to press another kiss to your lips. 
“make me a promise.” he whispers, a slight strain in his voice. 
“okay.” 
he swallows hard.
“you can’t die.” 
you lean back, pressing your hand into the softness of his hair, before looking at his brown eyes, so full and expectant as they wait for an answer. 
“of course not.” 
“you’d take me right with you if you did. you can’t.” he begs. 
you give him a smile. 
“i won’t. i promise, ryomen.” you respond, reaching forward to cross on his heart.
he gives you a shaky sigh, before nodding and pressing one last kiss to your cheek before exiting back out. 
and you thank your lucky stars. he came back. 
--
you smack nobara in the back of the head when you make your way back to her and yuuji. because not only are yuuji and nobara nursing two glasses of red wine, but they’re also emptying her trusty hot pink flash into the glass when people aren’t looking. 
“are you insane?” you whisper. 
“do you want a sip?” yuuji asks. 
you immediately take the glass from his hand, earning you laughs from the two of them, as the three of you lean against the wall, watching everyone mill around the room. as irritating as the guy was, mr. itadori was really only all types of heinous and horrible with those closest to them. 
to the community, it was a grave loss. and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room – except from the three people it was probably expected from the most. 
you could hear the whispers. they were so strong. you fight the urge to laugh in their faces. it was the understatement of the century. 
sammy joins you on the wall after an hour of mingling, an awkward jostle between her and nobara, before the two of them were sharing their glasses and muttering under their breaths about how insane maki and mai were. 
“funerals are weird.” yuuji mumbles, leaning his head against yours.
“how so?” 
“these two idiots were fighting at your birthday like a week ago. and no one’s even batting an eye that mr. johnson is sitting with his mistress while his wife gets drunk in the corner.” 
“that’s not his mistress. she was blonde.” 
“bold of you to assume there was only one.” 
you shiver in disgust, earning you a laugh from yuuji, as you finish off the last of his glass. except that’s right when sukuna walks up to you, eyes panicked as he takes the glass from your hand and sets it on the table. 
“hey baby.” he whispers. 
“hi sukuna. want some of our conc –” 
“whatever happens, i’m right here, okay?” he says, the tone in his voice urgent. 
you laugh, looking over to give yuuji a weird look, only to find that he’s staring past sukuna’s shoulder, swallowing hard. 
“huh? i don’t follow.” 
sukuna pinches his eyes shut, almost like he’s pained, before moving to your side, when you finally see it. he squeezes your hand so hard you think he might have broken it. 
you suppose it’s ironic. 
yuuji and sukuna’s shitty dad is dead. and your deadbeat one is standing four feet away from you, with two little girls at his side.
--
next part linked here
an: yolo.
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charliemwrites · 18 hours
Text
Part 2!
Finally finished moving house so hopefully I’ll be updating semi-regularly again.
Content: brief and non-descriptive explanation of Rasputin’s backstory (injury and illness)
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Agatha is over again.
You don’t know why. She doesn’t like you, your cats, or anything as far as you can tell. It seems her primary motivation for talking to you at all is to exercise her role as neighborhood matriarch. She “keeps tabs” on everyone, but especially you - the unmarried woman living alone that keeps odd hours.
A rebellious part of you wants to roll your eyes and make snarky comments whenever she sniffs at your life choices. The same part of you that would make scenes at holiday dinners or slam doors when you were a teenager. That girl has long been smoothed and polished - or maybe just worn down. It’s so much effort to make rude, nosy, traditionalists clutch their pearls. Much easier to smile in their face and do what you want anyway.
Still, that part of you itches at the surface sometimes. Makes your eye twitch.
“I know your generation is different but that’s just not the type of neighborhood we live in,” she’s saying.
You’re a bit foggy from a late night patching plotholes and haven’t registered much of anything she’s said. You really just want to go inside and stare at the TV until words make sense again.
“What do you mean?” you ask, for once not feigning your confusion. But of course this is the one time she doesn’t buy it.
She looks down her frail little nose at you, cornflower blue eyes baleful. You don’t feel scolded, but you sense that you’re supposed to.
“Now you know just what I mean. People will talk.”
People always talk, it’s an unfortunate byproduct of the human condition. Like a deaf bird, you’ve never understood all the chatter.
“Talk about… the buttercups?” you wonder, pointing at the blossoms. You’re quite proud of them actually.
Agatha puffs up and hisses out a breath. “You ought to keep to this side of the street. Away from those men.”
You blink. Men…?
A bang comes from across the street, followed by rough German cursing. (At least you think it’s cursing.)
Ah. Those men.
“I was just welcoming them to the neighborhood.”
It comes out of your mouth automatically, innocent excuses for something you remind yourself you don’t need to justify.
“I’d rather they didn’t feel welcome,” she snips. “Better they sell that awful house and go somewhere else.”
You flick your eyes over her bony shoulder. Konig passes by a window, massive biceps on display as he lifts something outside of view.
“They’re nice,” you say. Nice to look at. Krueger’s face alone quite makes up for his conversational shortcomings.
“The only reason men like that act nice is because they want something,” Agatha snaps. “This is a respectable neighborhood.”
Yeah, soooo respectable when Bertram rifles through your mail or Lisa looks into your backyard.
“Well,” you muse, “better to be on good terms with them, I think. They're not the type you want to piss off.”
That defiant streak lights up at the way her face sours. If only she knew what sort of words you use when it’s just you and the cats.
“You’ve just proven my point. Those are not the type of men young ladies should associating themselves with.”
You have to try very hard not to scrunch up your face. One blessed day, people will stop referring to you as “young lady” in that insufferably condescending tone. You can’t wait for that day.
Some of your mounting irritation must show on your face because she takes on a sickly sweet “teaching” tone.
“Neighborhoods are like gardens. Everything grows best when the rows are kept separate. That’s why the farmers plant them that way.”
You glance pointedly at your own yard, where the flowers are blooming in haphazard sprigs wherever you tossed the seeds. Agatha’s lips get thin.
“Best that you stay on this side of the street, missy. That’s the last I’ll hear of it.”
She spins on her heel and stalks off like a particularly drab bird. You stand on your porch for a second longer, face contorted in annoyed confusion. You don’t even have strong feelings about the three men; the simple act of someone - Agatha of all people - labeling them as “Off Limits” makes them instantly more appealing.
Maybe you should see someone about that or something. Then the pathetic cries of Guy through the window lure you back inside.
It’s nearly sundown when there’s a knock at your door. Still agitated from your talk with Agatha, you puff up like Shithead when Rasputin sits on her favorite toy. March up to the door, fling it open - and come up short when you see the three men looming on your doorstep.
Before you can recover, a little gray blob scrambles past your ankles, crying like the sky is falling.
“Oh!” Konig gasps in pleasant surprise. “Hallo, Bubchen!”
And all 6-foot-plus of Austrian instantly folds to scoop Guy up. You’ve barely managed a now-useless shout of alarm when Shithead wedges her fat head between your calves. Behind you, Rasputin politely screeches his little chainsmoker call.
And somehow, in the chaos of fumbling for furballs, you end up with all three men in your foyer.
Guy is purring away in Konig’s thick arms. Shithead is attempting to scale Krueger’s tight cargo pants. And Rasputin is pawing the air at Nikto, visibly calculating the jump to his wide shoulders.
Which leaves you with the clean serving platter you dropped off just yesterday. You blink at it for a moment, then glance at them.
“So… the cookies were good then?”
“Very good!” Konig rushes to say. Krueger and Nikto each nod, almost comically solemn.
“We have no baking or cooking skills,” Krueger continues, “so tell us what needs fixing.”
It takes you a moment to understand what he means. The house. He wants to fix your house. It’s surprisingly sweet, and you laugh a bit, shaking your head. “You don’t need to do that, I was just-“
“Is custom,” Nikto interrupts.
Konig nods with all the enthusiasm of a bobblehead as Krueger crosses his arms. (Whatever effect he’s going for is ruined by Shithead clinging to his pocket and screaming.)
“In our country, we bring gifts as guests. Our gift is repairs,” he explains.
You arch your brows playfully. “I don’t remember inviting you to be guests.”
He arches his brows right back. “We did not invite you either.”
Well shit.
“Okay, okay. I guess there’s a couple things…”
Konig perks up. “We would be happy to help, Biene!”
It’s strange having men in the house. You think you should be more nervous about it, can’t remember the last non-family man allowed into your space. Especially alone.
There’s a sharp awareness, of course. Hard not to be aware of them. It’s not just that they’re big, dwarfing all of your you-sized furniture. There’s a presence to them, something felt but not seen by your untrained eye. Maybe it’s in the set of their shoulders, the way they stand with both boots firmly planted. Maybe it’s the precise way they speak and move, not just separately but as a unit. Acting more like a collective consciousness than as individuals.
Whatever it is, you couldn’t ignore them if you tried. And you’re definitely not trying.
You set Krueger to work on the kitchen cabinet you’ve been meaning to replace. He clicks his tongue at the tape-and-lean method you’ve been using to keep the old one in place. Shithead immediately sets to work helping by gnawing at his shoelaces.
Konig is stationed in the guest bathroom, where the sink doesn’t run right. Guy comes mewing into your arms when he’s set down, effectively tattling that his new friend is mean and awful for withholding affection for even a moment.
You try not to visibly hesitate when you corner yourself in your own laundry room. Nikto has followed you right in, seemingly unaware that he’s invading your personal space. He’s not even looking at you though, eyes zeroed in on the dryer you point to.
“It’s not heating up, so the clothes stay wet or take forever to dry,” you explain.
He grunts in acknowledgement, then nods to Rasputin, who has taken up residence on the washer. His one golden eye blinks slow and serene at the two of you.
“What happened?” he asks.
You hum, softening in pleasant surprise at the question.
“I’m not sure how he lost his eye. It was infected when I found him. But I know for sure the tail and leg are from getting hit by a car.”
You sigh, scratching at Rasputin’s chin. A rusty purr starts up as he tilts his head, revealing some nasty scars around his throat.
“The vet said that that’s probably from a fight with another cat,” you add.
Guy steps from your arms to cuddle up to Rasputin, shoving his face into his ragged ear. Grooming time, then. That’s as good an indication as any that Nikto’s probably safe enough.
“I ran down from an office building to save him.” You blink hard, eyes stinging just from the memory. “But anyway, he gets to rest and be pampered now.”
When you glance up from Rasputin’s happy little face, you almost startle at the sharp blue eyes pinning you in place. Your face feels warm, even though you’re not embarrassed.
“I’ll, um, get out of the way,” you say, clearing your throat. “Keep an eye on things, Ras.”
With the men occupied, you find yourself once again at loose ends. You drift towards the den, but it feels awkward to sit on your ass watching TV while your neighbors fix your house.
You check the time on your phone - ignoring the text from your mother - and figure it’s not too early to start dinner.
“Will I be in the way if I start cooking?” you ask Krueger.
He flicks you a dimissive glance. “A little thing like you?”
You scoff and cross to the fridge. “You could have just said no.”
“Nein,” he snorts.
Rude bastard, you think - though not without fondness, unfortunately. The surly attitude is already growing on you.
There’s meat and spare boxes of pasta and veggies - that’ll work. You start tugging out ingredients, mentally doubling portions for your guests. They look like they work out even beyond the construction labor, hopefully you’ll have enough to satisfy their appetites.
“So what’s the plan with the house?” you ask as you get to work. “Just fixing it up to sell or…?”
“We will live there, the three of us,” Krueger answers. He swipes a screwdriver from Shithead’s batting paws. “Somewhere to stay when we are not working.”
You hum, biting back the next obvious question, loathe to become as nosy as the rest of your neighbors. Still… getting to know people, right?
It sounds like they expect to travel a lot. You can’t imagine them as business types - not in the traditional sense anyway. Though the image of Konig sitting in a tiny cubicle does make you smile a bit. Between their statures, their clothes, their shoes, and the occasional nasty scar, you take a guess.
“Are you guys military?”
“Contractor,” Krueger corrects.
You perk up. “Wait, really?”
He scowls. “Does it sound like a joke?”
You huff and turn back to the veggies you’re cutting. “No, no. I just - you know about guns and knives and things, then?”
He pauses. You shoot him a curious glance, only to quickly look away at the intense scrutiny directed your way.
“Yes,” he answers slowly.
“Then… could you maybe answer some questions…?”
His eyes narrow. “Questions?”
You keep your gaze on the cutting board. “Okay, wait, it's not suspicious. I’m a writer and it’s hard to google very specific questions sometimes. It’s just easier to ask an expert in person.”
Never mind that majority of your readers would never know the difference. It bothers you when things aren’t accurate.
He makes a considering noise. “A writer?”
You flush. “That’s what I do. Why I’m always home? I publish fiction.”
He stands, brushing his hands off on his pants. You peek his way, shocked to see a task you’ve been putting off for weeks already done. Hell, it looks sturdier than the rest of the cabinet doors, too.
“And your fiction requires knowledge of guns and knives and ‘things’?” he asks.
Your face feels like it’s on fire. “Sometimes…”
“Fine. I will answer your questions,” he allows.
You beam. “Thank you!”
He grunts, snatches a slice of pepper and pops it into his mouth.
“What else needs doing?”
Dinner ends up much more pleasant than expected. Nikto abstains from eating, you assume because he doesn’t feel comfortable removing his ever-present mask, but he sits at the table with Rasputin in his lap. He speaks little, and has that intense gaze that prickles at your freeze instinct, but you grow used to it as the meal progresses.
Konig, however, becomes chattier with food in his belly. He’s much more forthcoming when he answers your polite and totally casual questions - though you notice Krueger kick him under the table once or twice.
You suppose he gets you back by effectively announcing to the others what your career is. Which just kicks off the usual line of questioning about how and why you got into writing. Still, there’s no judgment from these men that make their living in labors of blood and sacrifice, where you expected censure. You only find genuine curiosity and intrigue, good-natured questions. Not even Krueger makes backhanded comments about it not being a “real” job.
Before you know it, the moon is high and you’re sending the three of them off, bellies full and a little friendlier than before. Nikto nods to you (and Rasputin) as he leaves, a big Tupperware of his dinner portion in hand.
You tell yourself it’s not anticipation that goes through you, knowing they’ll be back with it soon.
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jiyansthesis · 2 days
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TRUST ME GIRL, TAKE ALL YOUR SINS!!
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this is super short, quick, and self indulgent (i will forever headcannon scar as a thigh lover), coming out w/ a full length scar fic later but i needed to practice how to even write him... fem-bodied reader || i like thinking of scar as mean n loud in the bed yepyepyep
READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION || NOT PROOFREAD
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scar pawed at your thighs, sharp nails catching in the thin fabric of your pure white thigh highs. his hair tickled your stomach as he shuffled in your lap, mismatched eyes gleaming up at you.
"y'know how much i love these on you, right sweetheart?" his fingers ghosted the sides of your legs, eliciting a shiver out of you.
you nodded, trying your best to stay focused on the movie in front of you to not miss any scenesー but it was hard to when his fingers strayed to the apex of your thighs and stayed there. you glared down at him, only to be met with a cheeky grin and a seemingly innocent pout.
"don't distract me," you chided him, placing your attention back on the screen.
scar pouted, opting to instead play with his favorite clothing item on you, snapping the top band of the lacey cloth multiple times, the sound echoing with the background chatter of the movie. he became bored after a few minutes, one of his hands finding its way under your shirt. his cold gloved hands were not the only reason why you jolted, but how his head quickly left your lap and his unoccupied hand spread your legs apart.
"what are you doing?" you quipped, averting your attention back on the white-haired man.
"you're just so fucking hot in these," he nearly growled out as his hand under your shirt went upward to tug at your bra.
you flushed, realizing as you looked down that his pants looked unusually tight on him.
"are you seriously turned on byー my thighs?" you were incredulous, not understanding the sexual appeal of them to him. he didn't bother answering your question, too absorbed on his mission. he unclasped your bra, a finger flicking one of your nipples to earn a surprised yelp.
"gonna let me fuck your thighs, baby?" the end of his question nearly ended in a whine. "i've been wanting to ever since i saw you in these."
you whimpered at the lewdness of the statement, legs closing as a means to tame the growing heat in your tummy, but scar took a hold of your knees, his sheer strength preventing you from even moving your legs an inch.
"pleaseee," he gazed at you with puppy-like eyes, desperate. the sight alone had your pussy throbbing.
you slid your panties down as far as you could, to where his grip stayed on your knees. "as long as you fuck me right after."
as soon as you gave him consent, it was like you'd released a starving man. he effortlessly flipped you over so that'd he'd have a clear view of you back as you gripped the armrests of the couch. all you could hear was the shuffling of his clothes, jolting when you felt his fat cock rub against your drooling cunt.
"you don't know much i dreamed about this," he slowly rubbed his dick against your pussy, reveling in the little noises that escaped your mouth and the way you'd slightly hump against him. the fat of your inner thighs kept sucking him in with every thrust, which were becoming harsher with every moment.
he shamelessly moaned in your ear, clearly knowing what he was doing to you as he'd occasionally slip the head of his cock in your cunt and then take it out. the teasing led to tears pricking your eyes as you pleaded with him to finish inside you. slick dripped down your trembling thighs, a mix of his and your arousal.
"puh-pleasee," you moaned out as you clawed at the couch. "wan' you inside so bad."
his fingers tangled in your hair as he pulled your head back, causing you to cry out.
"y-you really want me to fuck this pussy? ya' sure?" he ferally growled into your ear.
"yes, yes, i need you," you babbled. he studied your tear streaked and hot face, deciding to flip you over and effectively fold you in halfー knees up to your chest as he locked you in with the weight of his body.
"always so greedy," he enunciated the last word with a unannounced thrust into your puffy pussy, earning himself a surprised moan.
"haah- w-wait!" you reached out, your hands grasping onto air as he immediately began brushing against your cervix.
"taking me so damn well," he whined in appreciation as your spongey walls tightened around him. "love you and this pussy."
"all yours!" you mindlessly chanted, closing your eyes in embarrassment. he didn't like that, deciding to search for that spot in you that'd have you choking out moans against your will and your back arching.
he knew exactly when he found it, your mouth widening into an 'o' shape as you then quickly flung your arm over it to muffle your sounds.
"awwh, you're not gonna let me hear those cute little sounds of yours?" he frowned, hand splaying against the bottom of your stomach to feel his dick pressing up against it with every ram.
his own noises were almost pornographic, reverberating around the room and causing your cunt to clench on himー to his amusement. he pried your arm away from your face, holding it above your head as his hips slammed against your clit.
you kept twitching as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten, your whines increasing in pitch and intensity.
"scar, m' gonna, m'gonnaー " you squeal out, pushing your head back into the sofa as your eyes nearly roll back, little droplets of drool trailing out your mouth. scar buried his head in your neck, biting down harshly as his hips stuttered.
"gonna let me cum inside, yeah?" he murmured against your neck, licking the little bruise his teeth caused.
you nodded fervently; your mouth unable to make any coherent sentences. chasing his own high with the newfound goal of breeding you, the way he cried out your name like an incantation.
with one last rough thrust, you felt him fill you up to the brim, creamy rings pooling around the base of his cock as his pace slowed to a stop. his shivers were almost incomprehensible, the only way you noticed them were because of his arms rapping around you and his chest pressed against yours.
with an exception for heavy breaths from both of you and the now uninteresting movie, the two of you laid in complete silenceー until scar's hands found their way back to your quivering and wet thighs.
"did i ever tell ya' how much i loved these?"
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PLEASE THIS IS SO BAD THIS IS JUST PRACTICE GUYS || reblogs appreciated!
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blondieeu · 10 hours
Note
Can You do true form! Sakuna!! rough play maybe plz >.<
rum punch. sukuna r.
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sukuna who’s been gone for a while to handle the sorcerers and ends up finally having a moment to himself where he can see his pretty play thing again.
“don’t act like you didn’t miss me, little girl.”
he snarled, two of his 4 strong arms made their way to push hard on your hips and force you into the futon beneath you.
your legs shook when he pushed them onto his shoulders to get at another angle. you were starting to really struggle to keep in your moans from him to display your anger.
sukuna plowed into you hard and deep, making sure you feel every detail on his cock—like you’d forgotten it or something. his free hands settled on your stomach, another thing to press into the futon.
sukuna slapped you and brought your face back to him by squishing your cheeks together. a stinging sensation built up on your cheek while you stared back at him, snotty nose, teary eyes, and swollen lips.
“oh—mhh, shit”
tears welled up in your waterline from how deep he was fucking you, made you think he was all the way in your stomach. sukuna continue to watch your facial expressions to get off at—you were so mad at him when he first came back, what happened to that?
all the scars, ancient drawings and symbols that collected over his body even added more to the scene, along with all his natural muscles and all the abnormalities with his true form.
he kept thrusting into you, watching as one of your hands came up and slipped two digits into his mouth, a little hazy. when he took them in and even thought to split them apart with his tongue it didn’t fail to get you wetter.
“look at all this mess, you definitely missed me.”
sukuna laughed a dark laugh at your embarrassment and pushed his damp hair from his face, taking his top 2 arms he wrapped them around your throat for leverage to yank you on and off of his cock, like a little fleshlight.
“you still mad?”
“ou—uh”
everytime you parted your lips to say something it felt like a swift punch hits your lungs and pulls all the wind out, replacing it with moans. hands on your neck made it a little harder to breathe but overall it turned you on.
with a swift motion, your-whatever you wanna call him- flipped you into your stomach and stuffed himself directly back inside, 2 arms on your throat and the other 2 holding your waist while he pulled your body up to whisper in your ear.
“stop playin’ hard to get and tell me you miss me girl. i won’t ask again”
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blondieeu xx
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satorusugurugurl · 1 day
Text
I Think He Knows: (Chapter Four)
Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?
Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader
Word Count: 4,954
Warning: Language, fingering, hand-job, kissing, heavy description of genitals.
A/N: Here’s the update!! I'm sorry its so late. My wrist feels a lot better today!! 😘💚💚 thank you for your patience!!
Part One Part Two Part Three
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You were glaring at your computer screen; the words struggled to come to you. Nanami was pleased with the changes you had made to your latest chapters; he said the kiss scenes were much more realistic, all thanks to your best friend, but as much as he liked it, it still didn't change the fact that your smutty mutual masturbation scene sucked balls.
“It’s getting there.” He glanced back at the words. “You’ve moved on from using meat stick to penis—while is anatomically correct, it’s not quite rousing. Perhaps try using the words shaft, dick, maybe cock.”
“Kento!”
“I’m being serious, how many erotic novels have you read where the writer uses ‘she grasped his penis in her hand’ no ‘she grabbed his cock’.”
“Right—”
“Then there’s the climax.” Nanami sighed, flipping through the pages. “Be honest with me; have you ever seen a man have an orgasm? It’s not like a fire hose in hentai—” A judgmental look was shot in your direction, which was well deserved. “It’s more like spurts.”
“Ugh, seriously?”
“Yes, and Oaklynn’s orgasm, you just described her facial reactions and breathing. Get into the pulsing or contractions she feels. Hell, make her squirt. Ilsan is a knight; he's been to brothels so the man would know how to please a woman.”
“Squirt—?”
The way Nanami deadpanned at you before running a hand down his face told you he had figured it out. He must have finally put the deli meat sex scenes, terribly written orgasms, and your lack of knowledge of female orgasms. You slowly sank lower into the booth with a flushed face.
“You’re a virgin.”
“You’re a virgin~” You mocked, sticking up your nose as the nightmares and flashbacks of your luncheon came to an end. Nanami’s suggestion to watch porn gives it a better understanding of how orgasms work. There was no way in hell you were doing that. “I don't need to have sex to know how to write a good sex scene!”
That statement was true, and having some experience would benefit you. It had kissing scenes. And it most definitely would help you with the grinding scene in the alley you were adding in. Suguru made things comfortable for you; he wasn’t pushy or manipulative. He was so gentle and kind, making sure you felt okay. You were so grateful for him, but after you started feeling weird last night and told him to stop, maybe he didn't want to keep doing stuff with you.
If you were honest with him, maybe he'd understand. But it wasn't very comfortable. It felt so intense, and you were all tingly.
Once you finished your rewrites, you would have to sit down and talk to him. You just hoped he didn’t think you were avoiding him after what happened. The sooner you finish, the sooner you can talk to him, get things back to normal, and maybe ask him to help you more. His lessons truly were helping you.
If only we weren’t having such a hard time with the stupid scene!
“Come on, just type it, dick, just type out the letters. DICK.” Your fingers hovered over your keyboard, your eyes narrowing at the screen. “It’s just a word!”
Before your fingers could even touch the ‘D,’ a fist pounded against your door. At first, you were startled; your heart lurched into your throat as your hand rested against your chest. The fist slammed against the door once again. If someone knocked at your door at 2:30 in the morning, it wasn’t a good sign. You were about to grab your phone to call Suguru when you heard his voice at the door.
“Answer, answer god, please.”
He repeated the exact words as you shove your lap desk off to the side before jumping up for the door. You open the door just as Suguru pulls his fist back to knock again. His face was pale, and his dark bangs clung to his forehead with sweat. The dark circles under his eyes were the evidence of the nightmares that he had been having and the lack of sleep.
Regardless of his appearance, your eyes still frantically searched him up and down. You were trying to find evidence of injuries or something that told you what was wrong. You could find no traces of anything other than his insomnia. He was in a white T-shirt and baggy gray sweats and stood there silently. Look of relief washing over your face. He just stood there. A look of relief washed over his face at the sight of you.
“Suguru? What’s wrong? What happened?” He doesn’t answer your frantic questions; instead, he grabs you, pushing his way inside your apartment and kicking the door shut. “Suguru?!”
You yelp as you both fall to the floor, his arms wrapped firmly around you as he holds you flush against his chest; your best friend is shaking, his breath heavy as he clings to you as if you would vanish if he let go. Seeing him in such a state made you sick to your stomach. He didn’t deserve to be plagued with the pain of what happened years ago. You knew he blamed himself for what happened with Riko. You wish you could take the pain away from him.
While that was impossible, you could be there for him when he needed you the most. So you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed, hugging him as tight as possible. “Thought I lost you.” He whispered, his hands clinging onto your tank top.
“Suguru—” you whisper, hands gently caressing his back. “You’re not going to lose me.” You feel him relax against you, shaking softly as he pulls back an inch. “Nightmares again?” His dark strands of hair cover his eyes, but he nods. “Sugu, oh sweetie—do you wanna stay the night with me?”
Your words seem to hit him like a freight train. The panic and fear in his eyes turned into relief. His muscles relax as he exhales through his nose. You reach up and caress his cheek, letting him know you are there, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek into your palm.
“Yeah, can I please?”
“Of course you can.” You lock the door before grabbing Suguru’s wrist and pulling Jim into your bedroom. “You can go to sleep. I need to finish editing this page before I lay down.”
As you sit back down, placing your lap desk in front of you, Suguru takes a moment to look around your bed. There are tiny Post-it notes and looseleaf paper spread out over your comforter, along with the mini spiral notebook you had in your purse. He had teased about it initially, but he realized that you need to jot down your ideas when inspiration hits you. So your stocking was full of the little mini notebooks you loved to carry.
Seeing that blissful smile tugged at your lips, in the warmth of the flush in your cheeks, made Suguru float with happiness. That joy that was brought on by notebooks was something he would never forget. He wanted to make you happy for the rest of your life. Not just with notebooks but a life you both could build together in a romantic relationship. Suguru wanted to give you the world on a silver platter because you deserved it and much more.
“Oh fuck, sorry, Sugu.” Small hands quickly removed the notes and the papers covering the other side of your bed. “Just transcribing and everything.” You motioned for him to lie down, patting gently on the mattress.
Suguru crawled into bed with you, covering himself with the sheet, before snuggling his head against one of your pillows. The smell of your favorite shampoo and conditioner had his nerves relaxing as he watched you glare at the screen. From the way your nose was turned up, you were deep in thought. His curiosity got the better of him, and he learned in closer, his eyes roaming over the screen.
‘Oaklynn’s face scrunched up in pure pleasure as her orgasm hit her. Her breathing was heavy, and Ilsan growled in her ear, pumping his fingers in and out of her vagina.’
Vagina?
‘That’s it~ such pretty sounds—nngh!’ Ilsan’s voice cracked as Oaklynn’s soft hand squeezed his penis, twisting her wrist as she stroked. ‘O-Oh gods! Oak~ Oaaak!’ A spray of cum coated Oaklynn’s hand, his sticky seed spraying all over her, pooling onto the mattress below them.
“PFFT!” Suguru tried hard not to laugh, his hand flying up to muffle the chuckle. But god, it was too funny!
Upon hearing the laughter from your best friend, your eyes snapped down. There he was, tears in his eyes, tanned skin flushing a rosy color as his eyes remained glued on your screen. With a tiny gasp, you slammed your screen shut before hiding your face in your hands. Your jerky, panicked motions seemed to set Suguru off more as he threw his head back, barking out in laughter.
“Oh my god! Stop!”
“W-Why was he cumming like a faucet?!” Suguru rolled onto his back, wiping at the tears.
“Stop it!”
“And using the words vagina and penis? I preferred it when you called it Meat Stick and Fairy Cave!”
You grumbled before moving your hands to push him. “Could you please stop talking!? Please, I know it’s bad!” Those words had Suguru jerking his head up, finding you flushed cheeks and glimmering eyes.
“It’s not bad—”
“Yes, it is! This screams, ‘A virgin wrote this! She’s never gotten any action,’ Which is true! How can I describe an orgasm when I’ve never even had one?!”
The truthful outburst left you panting as Suguru’s laughter abruptly stopped. His dark eyes were transfixed on your face before you got up, putting away your notes and laptop, and as you silently moved around the room, you could feel Suguru’s eyes on you. And they stayed locked on you until you crawled into bed with a sigh, curling onto your side.
The self-doubt was in your every move, from how your body tensed to your shallow breathing as you fought back tears. You knew Suguru didn’t laugh to be malicious, but it wasn't a confidence booster either. At times like these, you questioned if you were good enough to do this and if writing a smutty fantasy was what you were capable of.
Suguru frowned as he watched your body tremble, soft whimpers sounding in your chest. God, he felt like an asshole. With hesitant movements, Suguru inched himself closer to you. His hand gently inches itself around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Seeing that you didn't fight him or verbally tell him no, Suguru wrapped his arm underneath you, spooning you.
“I’m sorry.” His breath was hot against your cheek. “I shouldn't have been snooping, especially when you were in rewrites.”
“I-It’s okay. I’m struggling with it; I want to be the best I can, ya’ know?”
“Mhmm, I know princess.” The warmth of his body had you relaxing. “Can I ask you a question?”
You turned your head and pressed your cheek against his. “Yeah, of course you can.”
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” His voice was so smooth and sultry, making you shiver. “Like ever?”
It was true; you struggled to reach the mythical ‘Big O’ since you started masturbating. You felt like you would get close, it was within grasp, but you would fall short. There was a time you thought maybe you did, but the fact you had to question yourself was the only answer you needed to know that you had, in fact, not had one.
“No, I haven't; I think my fairy cave is broken.”
Suguru’s chest rumbled as he laughed loudly, giving you a tight squeeze. God, he had it so bad for you. You were so innocent and cute; you had such a good sense of humor.
“I don't think it’s broken.” His statement had you rolling so that you were facing him. “You just need to explore it some more.” His hand reaches down gently, resting it on your ass. “I could talk you through it if you want.”
Tingles ran down your spine as he squeezed the fat of your ass. It was a mixture of relief and excitement that your reaction didn't turn him off from the night before. Your hands moved, gripping his shirt gently before biting your lip. You had tried so many times before, but Suguru—he knew what to do.
“I don't want you to talk me through it—I want you to do it.” Suguru’s dark eyes went wide, his pupils the size of pinpricks. “If you want to.”
Your best friend leaned close to your ear before placing a kiss against it, and he moved further down to your neck, his tongue past his lips, kisses and little licks over your sensitive skin. The sensation had you squirming, your pulse racing in your throat, and a shuddering sigh left your mouth. Suguru sucked on your neck as his hand groped and massaged your ass. Your body felt like it was kindling with fire, a low burn in the pit of your stomach as he continued to pepper kisses over your neck.
“You want me to make you cum?”
“P-Please.”
“I’d do anything for you.” He grunts gravelly into the crook of your neck. “I’ll make sure you know what an orgasm feels like. That way, your already amazing writing is more accurate.” Teeth grazed over the skin, leading to your shoulder, as one of Suguru’s hands slipped under your shirt, trailing over your belly. “Can I touch you?”
“Y-Yea—aah—” his hand groped your breast the second he heard ‘yeah’ leave your mouth. He gently squeezed it, massaging it between his long, thick fingers. His thumb gently brushed over the nipple with every squeeze. “Mmm—” you pressed your lips together as your eyes tailed down, watching his hand move underneath your tank top.
Suguru continued to kiss and nip at your neck, trailing kisses so gently over your skin; well, his other hand pinched and pulled at your nipple, rubbing the bud between his fingers. The way your body twitched and jerked underneath his touch had his cock throbbing hard within the confines of his sweats. The breathless gasps, the way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, gently gnawing at it, you look so fucking hot; he wanted to do more to see what other reactions he could draw out from you.
Suguru’s hand left your breast, slowly trailing down past your stomach before pressing his whole palm over your clothes-clad pussy. Being touched intimately for the first time had you jerking, eyes snapping shut. Suguru groaned, rubbing his hand over your pussy, feeling the warmth of your sex. You gasped as he pulled his hand away to his index and middle finger over your clothed clit. Your body jerked forward, your arms wrapping around his neck, hands sticking into his hair as he brushed over the sensitive bundle and the nerves a second time.
“Does that feel good?” Suguru asked, his mouth pulling away from your sensitive skin.
Your mouth fell open as your eyebrows knitted together. “F-Feels r-real good.” His fingers began rubbing against your clit in slow circles, drawing out a whine from your chest. “O-Oh fuuuck S-Suguru.”
“I got you~ I got you, don't worry.” His fingers rubbed faster, memorizing how you jerked and reacted, repeating the same movements to get you to respond more.
The intensity of everything was becoming too much for you to handle. It felt like your whole body was on fire, like a pot on the stove roaring to a boil. You needed more; you weren’t sure what, but you needed more of this, of Suguru. He needed to quench your thirst, to put water on the flames burning with every nerve of your body, and you knew that his fingers would be the only thing that could help you.
“I-I want more.” Your voice was so timid, making Suguru’s hand seize up momentarily. “Please.”
“You sure?” he asked, his voice dark and husky.
With a nod, you grabbed his wrist, bringing it up to the waistband of your shorts. “Yes, I’m positive.” You gently pushed his wrist down, allowing his fingers to slip under the elastic band. You could’ve sworn Suguru choked on his breath, his eyes widening in the low light of your bedroom as they glanced down to his hand that had breached your shorts.
Suguru wrapped his arm around you, holding you steady as his hand dipped lower, brushing against your slick folds. The initial contact has your head tilting back m as he groaned, feeling your delicate skin before rubbing at your clit gently. You gripped the fabric of his shirt, digging your nails into it. Your body trembled as you buried your face into his neck, whimpering against his skin.
“S-Suguru—”
“Is this okay?” Suguru moved slowly, carefully listening closely to your breathing and noting how you shook—memorizing each twitch, saving it for him to jerk off to when you fell asleep. All you could do was nod your head as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Seeing that you were doing so well, Suguru slipped his hand back further, his thumb rubbing against your clit before slowly sliding two fingers into you.
“Nngh!” You gasped out, pressing your lips against Suguru’s neck as you mewled. “Sugu~! Sugu~!” Your walls were beginning to flutter and convulse around him as he slowly curled his fingers in.
Feeling your hot breath against his neck, how your lips gently traced unintentional kisses over his sensitive skin had his cock throbbing hard. Suguru pressed into you, rubbing his hardening cock against your thigh. He slowly began thrusting his fingers in and out of you, wet squelched flooding the room as he rubbed your clit harder.
“I want to make you cum Princess.” He snarled against your cheek.
The vulgar words had you clamping down harder on his fingers. Your body was getting hotter, from your toes to your pussy, all the way into your stomach. That coil from a few nights before began tightening, coiling deep inside you. The intensity had you tugging on Suguru's shirt.
“S-Sugu~ f-feels intense a-again—Ah oh fuck it’s l-like before.” There was a twinge of uncertainty and fear in your voice. “I-I—”
“I know it's weird, but just let go. I got you—it’s going to feel so fucking good in a second.” His fingers moved in and out of your tight, wet heat faster, drawing out more gasps from you. “Trust me.”
“I-I do feel good, b-but—” Suguru hooked his fingers up, moving them in a come hither motion, causing your legs to shake. “Fuuuck! Oooh fuck!”
“God, you sound so good,” he whispered so softly you couldn't hear him over your moans. “So good.” Suguru had dreamed about doing this to you for so long, to have you underneath him, showing you how much you meant to him. It was a dream to have you clinging to him, gasping his name.
“Sugu—Suguru—” You could feel something coming; it was intense, making your toes curl. “S-Sugu—I-I—I think—!”
“That’s it~ that’s it, let go~ you’re gonna cum.”
His fingers pressed into the sponge spot inside of you. The pressure of his fingers and his thumb rubbing your clit had you seeing stars. You screamed into his neck, shutting your eyes tight as your thighs clamped around his hand. The pure fiery pleasure had your whole body and pussy convulsing as you cried out loudly, so loud Suguru heard your neighbor hit the wall with a ‘shut up.’
Suguru couldn't care; he wanted you screaming his name. He groaned as he felt your slick on his fingers, slowing down to help you ride out your first orgasm. "Shhhh, shh—princess, don't be too loud~" You panted heavily against his neck, tears in your eyes as the last waves of pleasure washed over you.
“Oooh fuck.” You wheezed out as Suguru gently pulled his finger out of you. “Oh my god.” As you rolled onto your back, Suguru quickly slid his fingers into his mouth, sucking your cum off with a satisfied growl. You tasted sweet with a tang of citrus; it was addictive. God, what would he do to taste it firsthand?
As he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, you rolled back onto your side and stared at him. Suguru smiled cocking an eyebrow at the almost unreadable expression on your face. “Yes? Can I he—eeegh!” Your hand brushed over his hard cock, catching him off guard. “W-What are you doing?” you say up on your knees, cheeks flushed with post-orgasmic glow and determination.
“I-I've never seen a man cum! A-And seeing that you offered to help me, c-could I watch you jerk off? O-Or maybe if it’s okay, could I touch you? Y-You’re hard, right?”
Your bluntness and straightforward request left your best friend gaping at you. You wanted to touch him? God, this was like two dreams coming true. But as much as he wanted to have your hand on him, he was afraid he’d blow his load the second your fingers wrapped around him. So he's going to have to compromise for now.
“How about I jerk off, and you can wrap your hand around me?”
“Okay! Um! Let's start.”
You sat back on your heels, swallowing hard as Suguru pulled the sheets off his body. You could hear your pulse pounding in your ears as you watched your best friend sit up, resting his back against your headboard, dark hair falling over his shoulder with every movement. Why were you so nervous? It was just Suguru’s dick, just your best friend, who just made you cum your brains out. Nothing about this should make you anxious! He was helping you! This was research!
But your research had your pussy throbbing as Suguru hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his pajama pants and pulled it down. When he did, his thick erect cock bounced, landing against his stomach with a hardy thump. It was heavy and thick, and it had you pressing your thighs together. The tip was a deep, dusty, rose color, dribbling out a clear substance from the tip. His shaft was tan; thick veins ran up and down as it twitched.
“Oh—” you whispered, taking in his well-trimmed pubes, admiring his happy trail that went from the bottom of his belly button down to the base of his cock. “Oooh fuck.”
“Yeah—” Suguru groaned, tilting his head to the side as he watched you with dark, knowing eyes. He saw the way you looked at him, your gaze lingering on his cock. “this is it.”
Suddenly, it became crystal clear why he had so many romantic partners. He was thick and big. You’re sure it would hit every place inside you that would feel good. Wait a minute, not you, his previous partners! It must’ve hit all the right places inside of them. It probably felt so good. Like how his fingers felt pressing that spot inside you. His cock had the perfect curve that would hit it just right.
“You good there? Did your virgin brain malfunction?”
In a way, it did, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that it had. “W-What!? No, of course not!” your eyes started to burn with a visible flush. “No.” Suguru just laughed breathlessly.
“I'm just teasing you, come here, I’ll show you what it looks like when a guy cums.” Your eyes slowly drifted back towards him, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him stroking his shaft. His hand moved silly up and down, smearing what you could only assume was pre-cum over himself. “Fuccck.” he grumbled, “I’m so hard, I-I'm probably not going to last long.” That was okay with you. “You can wrap your hand around mine.”
With his invitation, you placed your hand over his moving your arm up and down as he stroked his cock. He didn’t go all the way down to the base. Instead, he focused his attention on the head of his cock. Each time, he stroked his cock, his head tilted back against the headboard as his legs spread. The muscles in his upper thighs constricted with each jerk. He looked so fucking good, like some sex god.
Seeing him in such a state had you trying to match his movements as best as possible and attempting to keep up with his steady but jerky pace. Your eyes wandered to where his shirt pulled slightly up, just enough for you to see the bottom half of his abs that were clenching with each stroke that focused on the head of his cock.
While his movements utterly entranced you, Suguru’s eyes were drawn to you. The way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, how your eyes roamed over him, focusing on the muscles in his stomach, before trailing back towards his cock. Your presence was enough to have him dribbling more pre-cum out. Suguru straightened his legs out, toes curling as his hand moved faster up and down over the head of his cock. He had it down so bad for you that it was going to be enough to send him over the edge.
“Oooh fuuuck~ fuck fuck fuck~” he growled through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah.”
Fuck, oh God, he looks so good. Watching him pleasure himself had you feeling warm and fuzzy deep inside. He was really into jerking his hand up faster, squeezing himself hard. He looks so fucked out of his mind, and you were sure if you could see your face, your expression with mirror his. There was something about watching him getting off that had your pulse racing in your pussy throbbing, your shorts were already wet enough, and you could feel more slick coating them.
Moving your hand with his wasn’t enough. Biting down on your lip, you pulled his hand away. “Hey, what ar—aah—” Suguru’s head lolled back as you wrapped your soft hand around him, jerking your hand up and down at the same pace he was going.
“O-oooh.” You were not expecting it to be as velvety smooth as it was. The feeling of his cock in your hand had awakened something in you. You leaned over him, resting your free hand on his upper thigh. Stroking your hand over his cock up and down faster and harder, squeezing it like he had done to himself.
Suguru threw his head back against the headboard, hissing through his teeth as his eyes watched your hand move up and down over him. He had the scenario so many times in his head and his wet dreams when he would stroke himself until he would cum all over his hand. The final push was to feel you touching him with such enthusiasm.
“C-Cummin! Fuck! I’m cumming Princess!” Spurts of thick white cum shot out of his tip, lashing out over his stomach and his T-shirt. It wasn’t all like a hose; it was small ropes, for it to be exact, that lashed out over him and your hand. “A-Aah!” His whole body jerked his abs, clenching as his eyes rolled back, and you continued jerking your hand, milking him for all you could.
“W-Wow, tha-that was hot.” at the sound of your voice Suguru shot his hand forward, grabbing your wrist, stopping you from continuing to move over his cock. “O-Oh, sorry—“
“N-No, you’re okay, just sensitive.” He grunted as he let you go, allowing you to pull your coated hand back.
You both sat in your bed, traces of your orgasm coating both of you as Suguru came down from his high. Silence filled the open air between you, but it wasn’t at all awkward; instead, it was thick with tension, sexual tension. A tension Suguru was familiar with while the feeling was alien to you. Part of you wanted to reach out and kiss him, but something inside you prevented you from moving forward. Because this wasn’t a relationship, this was just your best friend helping you when you were struggling. It was nothing more than that.
Seeing as you were the only one capable of functioning, you got up and headed into your bathroom, grabbing a warm wet rag to clean you both off with. “Thank you for letting me do that.” You whispered as you cleaned off your hand before gently handing him the rag. “That was very informative, and I think it will help me with the pages. I’ve been struggling with it.” Suguru stared blankly at you, taking in your words as he wiped his cum off his stomach and shirt.
“Of course, I’m glad I could help you out.”
“Uhm, so do you wanna go to bed?”
“Yeah—yeah, that sounds good.”
“Awesome!”
After snatching the rag from him and tossing it in the bathroom, you crawled back into bed with your best friend. A man you had known since your childhood who you had grown up with. The two of you had been through thick and thin together, always there for one another no matter the circumstances.
As you lay down on your side, Suguru wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder if you both had crossed the line tonight. Or if you had taken a step towards a new chapter of your relationship? Those questions could wait until morning because you were only concerned about how good it felt to be wrapped in his arms, listening to his heartbeat as you both drifted to sleep.
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks
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@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26
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deebris · 7 hours
Text
The Mysterious Visitor III
Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)
Synopsis: Bruce begins to suspect that Damian is hiding something after the two of you finally see each other, and the father-son trust between them is shaken. Tim finally sees your face, and something strange happens. The meeting between siblings was not successful, and to their dismay, Bruce will need to confront Talia face to face once again.
Warnings: The reader is 13 years old and is Damian's twin sister; the tone of the story is somewhat sad; Bruce is intimidating; Hugo Strange mentioned; family discussion; maternal overprotection.
Word count: 3.6k
Note: I'm sincerely sorry if I didn't include someone on the tag list or if I made any mistakes. This part took longer because it's a bit longer.
Part I Part II Part III
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"Forgive me for not offering anything sooner, miss," Alfred said, watching you carefully pick up the hot chocolate he had given to you. He found it curious how you ignored the handle of the mug, instead holding it with both hands, making sure wouldn't spill it.
You diverted your eyes from the brown liquid and looked at the old butler, now knowing his name, licking your lips after the sip to clear the excess drink. "It's okay," you responded, unaware of the chocolate mustache that had formed.
Bruce, still in the room, watched the scene from the side while patiently awaiting Damian. He traced circles with his index finger on the rim of the whiskey glass he had poured for himself, trying to keep control of how much he drank. Bruce would never admit it, but he needed to calm down, and perhaps a bit of moderate alcohol might help. He knew it wasn't appropriate to drink in front of someone as young as you, but he couldn't stop himself.
He was caught looking at you with a suspicious gaze that didn't waver. The room was filled with a palpable discomfort, and you, embarrassed, went back to staring at your own drink again, focused on listening to the crackling of the fireplace.
"Here, take this," Alfred said gently, extending a napkin from the tray. You accepted it and wiped around your mouth, finally realizing you'd made a mess.
Your mother would have scolded you for your lack of manners, you thought to yourself. And, for the thousandth time that night, you worried about how she would react to discovering you weren't in your bed. Maybe she had already noticed and was preparing a furious speech along with your punishment.
"What are you thinking about, dear?" Alfred asked, noticing your quietness as you rested the hot chocolate mug in your lap and started staring into nothing.
You snapped out of your stupor upon hearing the question, fiddling with one of the charms on your bracelet, the "T" specifically, Bruce couldn't help but notice. His mind was in turmoil, much like yours, with a thousand different thoughts arising every second. He felt strangely betrayed, questioning how much more his son hadn't told him—important things like the fact that he had a sister.
"I was just thinking that..." you trailed off, swallowing hard as the nervousness grew. Letting out a shaky sigh and with visible tears forming in your eyes, you continued, "My mom's going to be mad at me."
"And are you afraid of your mother?" Alfred insisted, trying to sound gentle upon seeing your distress.
"It's not quite that," you replied, trying to ease the situation so he wouldn't jump to conclusions.
You weren't exactly afraid of her, but you knew that rummaging through your mother's belongings, stealing a letter, and sneaking out in the middle of the night would disappoint her. You worried about her reaction and, above all, about Damian's reaction. If he was still the same, he certainly wouldn't be happy with the circumstances.
You tried to calm yourself, convincing yourself that you had the right to be angry for the first time in your life, not them, even knowing that your family would see you differently. It was as if you were perpetually a five-year-old in their eyes, always needing to hear lectures about every dangerous step you took.
Even though you and your brother were the same age, he was more responsible, smarter, stronger, destined to be a leader. And it annoyed you so much, but no matter what you said, your mother wouldn't change her mind about your upbringing.
When Damian left, Talia had said he would spend some time in a different place to learn new things and improve himself. For the first few weeks, it was even liberating not having him on your neck all the time, but then you realized it was because of him that you could do simple things like take a walk around the neighborhood alone.
Without Damian at home, your mother had no one to contradict her decisions, and her constant protection began to suffocate you. Then came the longing, and what was supposed to be a few months turned into years, and you never saw him again. You never stopped thinking about him. Every day, every birthday, and every Christmas, you would wait near the entrance of your apartment before going to bed, hoping that he would open the door again.
"Where is your mother?" Bruce suddenly interrupted, feeling Alfred's cautious gaze on him. You hesitated to answer, after all, although Mr. Wayne was a very popular man with a good image, you didn't know him. "I don't intend to harm you, but I need to know to take you back home," he justified, looking directly at your face, but Alfred knew this was Bruce's way of telling him that he wasn't interested in Talia, but rather in ensuring your safety.
"I'm not dumb, I know how to get home by myself," you tried to defend yourself. And though the words might sound arrogant, you said it calmly, not wanting to offend him.
"The point is not that. This is Gotham City, you shouldn't have gone out alone in the middle of the night." Bruce tried to reason with you, and it seemed to have worked because you fell silent.
"You need to trust us, miss," Alfred tried to encourage you to respond, but you remained silent. Bruce turned the glass to take a big sip of his drink and both gave up, not wanting to pressure you further.
The following minutes were silent, interrupted only by the sound of you drinking the hot chocolate in a few sips. Unexpectedly, Titus, Damian's German Shepherd, seemed to have taken a liking to you. He entered the room from the kitchen and stopped by your side to smell the new scent in the house. The relatively gentle dog sniffed around you, appreciating the head pats he received while you were enchanted by the furry animal.
Bruce couldn't help but compare you to his son since he began to analyze you. Damian had his mother's cunning personality and an arrogance that Bruce couldn't deny he had too, but it was more pronounced in Talia. He clearly remembered the first meeting with Damian. The first thing the boy did was make a ridiculous joke about his height, and he never seemed shy when meeting Bruce or the other boys. Also, when he arrived at the mansion, he felt comfortable analyzing every tiny detail of the house, unconcerned if his opinions were unpleasant.
You, on the other hand, although in different circumstances, limited yourself to a small space on the couch, responding only when asked and gladly accepting the kindness of Dick and Alfred. Bruce wondered how Talia could have raised a daughter like you. She and her sister, Nyssa, were sharp women, trained to be natural-born assassins, despite having a traditional father like Ra's. It was hard to believe that you, an apparently ordinary and shy girl, could be her daughter.
"Do you like dogs?" Bruce asked, deciding to stop being grumpy.
"I do, but I think I prefer cats." You continued to stroke Titus's cheeks, who began to want to climb onto your lap. Unfortunately, he was too heavy, and you had to push him back to the floor. The animal seemed to interpret that as a game because he kept trying to climb several times. "Mom gave me one for Christmas last year."
"Titus." Bruce's voice caught the dog's attention, patting his right thigh, calling him to sit on his lap. His gesture, although meant to stop the animal from bothering you, made you a little disappointed that you couldn't pet his soft fur anymore.
"What a coincidence. It seems you and Damian share something in common." Alfred was smiling while talking to you, which was rare for him. "Last Christmas, he also brought us two stray cats. The black one lives with us, but unfortunately, I don't know what happened to the other one. Curiously, the cat has my name." The butler tried to make a face at you, pretending to be unhappy. A Cheshire smile spread across your face, followed by the most contagious laugh he had ever heard, and he couldn't help but widen his own smile.
"The cat's name is Alfred?" You asked incredulously, seeing him nod positively. "Mine is an orange cat. He's cute but very troublesome; he even scratched one of my ballet shoes." You commented, much more at ease in Mr. Wayne's presence.
"An orange kitten?" Bruce's eyes widened slightly, just like Alfred's.
An orange and a black cat, both mentioned on the same date. Your seemingly trivial confession revealed to both of them that Damian had indeed kept in touch with you. Perhaps not directly, but it showed that he hadn't forgotten your existence and cared enough to have given the other cat to his sister as a gift. Now, because of you, they both finally knew what had happened to the other furball.
"Your brother also raises a cow here on the property." The butler thought it would be of interest to mention the funny fact, given that Damian was too irritable to raise something like a cow. And it seemed to have worked, as you laughed with genuine surprise in your eyes.
Bruce couldn't help but let out a muffled laugh when reminded of the cow, and unlike how he had been so suspicious of you moments ago, he was now more relaxed. He wondered when was the last time he saw Alfred so cheerful with someone new here at the mansion. The butler was a man full of tenderness for the family, but he was difficult to deal with for outsiders, although he always presented himself in a polite manner.
But the pleasant moment was suddenly interrupted by a series of voices coming from the top of the stairs, making Bruce and Alfred frown. Both stood up to see better what was happening and saw Damian pushing and shouting at his three brothers while struggling to descend the steps without being hindered by them.
Jason saw that Bruce and Alfred had already noticed them, failing to prevent the boy from confronting you three, and let go of his arm. Dick and Tim followed suit, defeated. The events of the night were revealed to him by his brothers, who told him everything from you being here to the fact that you had had some sort of contact with Strange. Damian went berserk at the last part and stormed out of the room in a flash.
Seeing his son in the Robin uniform, Bruce thought of reprimanding him, knowing he had gone on patrol alone again, but decided that was a matter for later.
"Damian," Bruce called out, calming him down a bit from his excitement. "We have a visitor." There was no view of the stairs from the living room, so you couldn't grasp that Bruce was calling Robin by your brother's name.
Damian descended the steps slowly, as if it were a very difficult task for him, and then finally looked at you, then at Bruce, and back at you, completely ignoring anyone else. He took a deep breath, trying to process the situation. Dick had told him that his father didn't know anything about you being his daughter, but he was sure this secret wouldn't last much longer. And honestly, he preferred that both of you knew the truth, even knowing that his mother wouldn't be happy.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, surprise evident in his voice.
You slowly got up from the couch, gripping the hot chocolate mug tightly. The truth was, Damian hadn't realized he was still dressed as Robin, and that's why you didn't recognize him. You stood there, paralyzed, not understanding why he was in Bruce Wayne's house, and why would he talk to you? Or maybe this was some kind of joke, and you still hadn't figured it out.
Damian was silent for a moment, his expression serious. "You were supposed to stay with Mom. It's not safe for you here."
"Master Damian," Alfred spoke, signaling to the mask on his face. Damian quickly tore it off, feeling stupid for forgetting about it.
You almost let the mug slip when you saw him. Your brother had grown a lot since he was ten. His face was thinner, more defined, and his eyes smaller, plus his voice was deeper. That's why you didn't recognize him at first. Before, you would have known who he was just by the sound of his voice, but it wasn't the same anymore.
You were happy and surprised at the same time. That moment was shocking, and the bitterness you felt a while ago was forgotten. Your anger at discovering Damian ignored you for two years for the people in this house didn't cross your mind now, too busy trying to memorize each of his new features. The superhero world wasn't new, after all, but how could your brother be Robin? And if he was Robin, did he know Batman?
"I wanted to see you," you replied, your voice trembling. "I missed you."
Damian sighed, approaching. He wanted to argue but fought against it, knowing the last thing he should do was yell at you after so long. "I missed you too, but you shouldn't be here, S/n. Things are complicated here." He responded tensely, calculating his words and trying to find a way to get you away from Bruce as quickly as possible before something slipped.
Bruce watched your interaction, unsure of what to do. He didn't understand the depth of your relationship, wondering if he should intervene or let you talk alone. It seemed too personal to discuss in front of so many eyes.
In a brief exchange of glances with Dick, in a kind of silent conversation, Bruce signaled for him and the others to leave.
Understanding as always, Dick nodded, indicating they should leave but not before approaching Bruce with something. "Bruce, promise me you'll only read this card when you're in a clearer state of mind," he asked in a whisper, placing a piece of paper in Bruce's hand, careful to put the written part facing his palm. Dick rarely asked for promises, so Bruce reluctantly agreed.
"Can you at least tell me what it is?"
"It's a clue about Hugo Strange," was the simplest response he could give. "But let's leave that for another time," Dick emphasized, looking at you and Damian, who, to their surprise, were watching them.
"Let's go. This is no longer our business," Dick tried to pull Jason and Tim along, but Tim was stubborn:
"Did you give it to him?" Tim said just loud enough for Dick to hear.
"Yes, Tim," he replied, not wanting to give him more room to argue, going up the stairs two steps at a time, followed by Jason who climbed more calmly, holding onto the railing. Tim gave one last look at Bruce, then at Damian, Alfred, and then you, who was now watching the three. You already knew Dick, but the other two figures aroused your curiosity. How many more people live in the mansion?
The boy you didn't know was called Tim started staring at you with an intrigued expression. He hadn't managed to see your face closely before, but now, looking calmly, he couldn't avoid noticing how familiar you seemed. He felt he had seen you somewhere, but where? You examined him with the same perplexity, and for a moment he parted his lips to say something, maybe to ask if he knew you, but Bruce's voice made him jump:
"Tim, you should go to bed, just like your brothers." He asked in a gentle tone.
"Sorry, Bruce." He responded quickly, going up the stairs in same style as Jason.
"Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you?" Damian took advantage of the fact that the three had left and angrily threw it in your face, but trying to disguise it at all costs to avoid sounding too harsh. His eyes were frantic, looking at every part of your face.
He wasn't sentimental, and he refused to go through the humiliation of showing any weakness at seeing your grown-up figure, even if it caused him heartache. "Why did you disappear like that? Mom's been worried for hours."
"I already told you. I wanted to see you." Your voice rose a bit, desperately trying to justify yourself. You wanted so much to hug him but felt too embarrassed to do so, finally realizing that the intimacy you had before no longer existed. It was as if he were a stranger.
"Let's go. I'll take you back." He grabbed your wrist, wanting to disappear from his father's sight at all costs, but you pulled away, surprising him.
"Why are you so eager to get rid of me?" You asked indignantly, trying to swallow the sob due to your wounded pride. The warmth in your heart rose to your head, finally feeling that old anger again. "I haven't seen you in years, and the first thing you do is want to keep me away again!" You were distressed, feeling rejected.
"Maybe it's because you only cause problems!" He exploded.
"I had forgotten how irritating you are!" You shouted at the top of your lungs, trying to push him back as you did in childhood arguments. Back then, you two were equal in strength, but now Damian was becoming a man, and he barely moved.
You didn't notice when you dropped the mug on the floor, which luckily didn't break as the impact was cushioned by the rug. But the little liquid left had spilled and stained it, and seeing Alfred pick it up to clean made you feel awful. You should have done it, but he stopped you when you made a move to bend down, saying it was okay. Alfred felt he shouldn't participate in this conversation and used the mug situation as an excuse to go to the kitchen.
"Stop." Bruce intervened between you two, separating both and giving his son a challenging look. He knew this kind of attitude was typical of him, but seeing how loyal and obedient Damian was to Talia, he thought he would at least show some sympathy to his sister. "S/n, why don't you go sleep a bit? It's late, it would be good to rest." He offered as a truce and also as a way to interrupt your meeting, seeing how bad it was going.
"Do you realize the danger she got into? Talking to strangers, no less." Damian spoke again, his voice dangerously calm, ignoring Bruce. "Do you have any idea who that guy was, S/n? Do you have any idea?!" His voice began to rise a few octaves.
A solitary tear rolled down your cheek, recalling the man who had helped you on the street. At that moment, he seemed like a good person, but the way your brother was talking, apparently he wasn't. "How many times do we need to tell you not to talk to strangers? Not to leave the house without telling anyone? It's always been like this since we were kids, you never change!"
You had no reaction. That single tear had turned into two, then into several others, as you shrank into your own shame. You felt ridiculous for coming here because of him.
"Damian, who are you talking about?" Bruce held him by the shoulders to stop him from continuing to spew anger at you. His voice was much deeper than the boy's, and although it didn't intimidate him, it was enough to make him look at him at least.
"Hugo Strange, Dad! Damn Hugo Strange!" Damian lost control of his own mouth, speaking without thinking and not realizing the slip he had just made. "Because she's too stupid to have the slightest notion about anything!"
"Hugo Strange?" Mr. Wayne asked out loud. You knew exactly who Strange was, just as you knew other villains, although you might not recognize them by appearance. But that didn't matter to you now, as you spoke right after:
"Why did you call him Dad?" You looked your brother in the eyes, expecting some kind of explanation, not noticing how his body hairs stood on end.
Suddenly, a realization hit you. This was his new family now, and this man was his father. That venomous jealousy returned once more, and you didn't know if it was because Damian now had someone to call 'Dad' or because it meant how close he had become to these people. Damian swallowed hard, sweating and standing still like a statue.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne. I didn't mean to cause trouble." You apologized, deciding to completely ignore Damian from now on.
"No need to apologize." Bruce felt uneasy, and like you, he drew a wrong interpretation from it. He thought Damian hadn't told his sister who his real father was, which was possible considering he also hadn't told her he moved in with him. The fact that you two were twins was also still unknown to Bruce. The most logical idea, though not spoken or thought, was that you were Talia's daughter with another man. "I'll ask Alfred to show you a room."
You looked one last time at Damian before disappearing into some wing of the mansion. It hurt to see him watching you leave without even saying goodbye. A 'good night' would have been hopeful, even though you hated him now.
"Come, miss." You felt Alfred's hands on your back, guiding you. "I'll show you the guest room," he explained, and you looked back, seeing Bruce watching the two of you.
"Thank you, Mr. Wayne," you said, trying to sound as grateful as possible, while wrapping one arm around Alfred's waist affectionately. Bruce gave you a slight smile, uncrossing his arms to wave goodbye, which you returned with your free hand.
"You and I now have a lot to talk about." Bruce's aura had become cold again. The trust he had built with Damian wasn't broken, but it definitely had a crack.
"Mom is coming," he said in a low voice "I called her as soon as Dick started told me everything," he confessed, knowing Bruce would be furious, watching him run a hand through his hair to relieve the tension.
Following his example, Damian also sat in one of the armchairs in the room, analyzing his father's movements. Whenever Talia and Bruce were in the same room, even if they didn't do it openly, they fought for some kind of dominance.
Bruce made a move to take out the card Dick had given him to see its contents and maybe pass the time while the second storm of the night was yet to come. The first had been you, of course. He ran his fingers along one of the edges of the card, without taking it completely out of his pocket, and then remembered his son's words:
'Promise me you'll only read this card when you're in a moment of clarity.'
The last thing Bruce had now was clarity. So he sighed heavily and pushed it back into his pocket, staring at the boy beside him. "Why do I feel like your sister should be a secret, Damian?"
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Credits for the divider: @cafekitsune
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animasola86 · 20 hours
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SMUT DRABBLES*: Sleepy
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A/N: Have another little smut scene I wrote upon waking up at 5:30 this morning. I use *drabble lightly here again, but at least it's under 1k words. Remember: you can imagine any character here, it's just a man and a woman enjoying a little together time (pics are just to set the mood, there are no descriptions of either party involved). This time, I'll warn you about somnophilia, a little dubcon, some manhandling, thigh fucking and unprotected sex. Works in any timeline where there are beds or surfaces to sleep on.
WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! // WORDS: 875 // AO3
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She stirs awake with a low rumble in her ear, heavy breaths fanning over her jaw. Is it morning or still night? She can't tell, it doesn't matter when a strong hand grips her hip and pulls her backwards into a firm body that moves against her in a slow but steady rhythm. There's something between her legs, slick and hot and hard.
His deep groans fill her still half-asleep mind, and she issues a little mewl. “S'okay, baby,” he hums behind her, his hips steadily slamming into her cushioned rear. Smack. “Go–” Smack. “–back–” Smack. “–to sleep.” He grips her tighter, fingers digging into her soft flesh, cock sliding back and forth between her thighs.
She moans groggily, too tired to comprehend anything but the heat building up within her. Her eyelids flutter before she slips back into unconsciousness.
When she wakes up again, he has rolled onto his back, pulled her with him, body pliant, like a doll, manhandled into place with her legs falling open over his strong thighs. One large hand around her throat, the other rubbing her swollen clit, he pumps into her, slow snaps of his hips as he works his hard cock into her tight warmth. The stretch makes her whimper.
“Shh, s'fine, love,” he growls beneath her, voice low and deep and thick with sleep and exhaustion. His fingers curl around her neck, applying enough pressure to push her back into the void as he ruts up into her, inch by inch, filling her, using her.
She's on her stomach when she comes to next, his heavy body pinning her to the bed, rapid thrusts pushing her into the soft mattress, a little bounce amidst the feeling of immobility.
Braced on his elbows, he's caging her in as he slams against her ass, cock slipping in and out of her clenching cunt, fucking her open. He groans and grunts, face buried in her nape, hot breaths and low rumbles that make her head spin.
“So fucking tight,” he mumbles into her hair, lost in his own bliss, voice so deep she can feel the vibrations against her skin. “So fucking perfect...”
A few mewls and moans slip from her dry lips, and he's encouraged by them as he thrusts into her faster, harder, deeper. She can feel him, hot and hard and heavy, in and out, pleasure bordering on pain.
Every deep pummel makes her gasp and flinch, a cold shiver, erupting goosebumps, a burning deep within. Breathing is hard in her prone position, and she feels herself slipping again.
She wakes with a pained grunt, lying on her back, manhandled into yet another position. His hands hold her legs, her knees pressed to her chest, feet dangling in the air over his broad shoulders. Breasts squished, lungs tight, as he folds her, pins her down, ramming his hard length as deep as humanly possible.
He's heavy on top of her, body sweat-slick, hot, his grunts as animalistic as his relentless thrusts. Her cunt feels raw, muscles contracting, tight and tense, and he still plunges in and out with ease and force, the wet squelching sounds mixing with his heavy panting and her muffled whimpers.
“Look at you, so wet for me,” he rasps, tightening his grip on her legs as he leans back a little, looking down at her almost menacingly. Beads of sweat drip from his temples, and she's mesmerized by the sight of him. Her head is spinning, body barely functioning, limbs twitching and boneless, just a hole for him to fill.
He gives her a weak smile, a gesture that makes her feel even hotter, and when he leans in, folding his body over hers, she moans as he captures her mouth for a searing kiss, tongue slipping between her lips, tasting every inch of her. She's barely capable of mirroring his motions, reduced to a mewling mess beneath him.
His hips keep their steady rhythm, pounding fast and hard and deep. Slam. Slam. Slam. He groans into her mouth as she clenches around him, her stomach tight and tense, that coil within ready to burst.
“Come with me,” he breathes into her, his gaze intense as he presses his forehead to hers. She's not in control, can't even reply, but his words are enough to push her over the edge. She stiffens beneath him, crying out against his lips, fingers clawing at the sheets as her thighs twitch, feet digging into his back.
Eyes roll back, breath hitches, the tension explodes into bright lights dancing behind her eyelids as her body convulses beneath him, and he fucks her through her orgasm, prolongs it, until he starts throbbing inside her, and that one final push nestles him deep within, crown squished against her cervix, balls tight and twitching against her folds, as he paints her insides with his hot seed.
Collapsing on top of her, face buried in the crook of her neck, while her toes curl up painfully, he empties himself inside her, filling her, every spasm of his cock accompanied by a low growl against her pulse. The warmth is soothing, his weight on her comforting, and she feels herself drifting back to sleep, a soft smile on her trembling lips.
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MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS
MORE SMUT DRABBLES:
A steamy shower
Toy
Car Inspection
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queenpiranhadon · 2 days
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A/N: hsj2bde2iqrb only two chapters left hello??? FIRST and last BATTLE GUYS YAY! Tbh it was a little worrying writing this one so ty to @cashmoneyyysstuff and @ peachsukii for helping me out 😭 Here's the masterlist!
Warning(s): Warning(s): Cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, reader is 20 years old, reader befriends Kaminari and Sero, Reader uses "Cattus" as her alias, reader's nicknames are Cactus, Cattus and Cat, fight scene between you and unnamed fighters, really BAD depictions of a fight scene, reader's down bad LMAO, war, reader gets hurt, blood, reader wears a bra, bad war descriptions lol what do you expect from me, reader is AFAB and female, bakugou finds out 😀👍
Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
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It’s been six months since you left home for the army, training vigorously and diligently- refining your skills under Bakugou’s guidance.  
He’s respected you a lot more since the tualia surprisingly but refuses to speak to you unless absolutely necessary- pretty much avoiding you entirely. 
Your spar partner was Moss Bear, whose name you learned was Genken Rui.  
He was married, and had a 7-year-old son at home, named Daki. Apparently Genken met your father through a similar camp when he was your age, except back then, he was training like you.  
He told you stories about how reserved your father was until he met Genken, along with two others, men named Hizashi and Oboro. 
You knew Hizashi- the eccentric blonde always seemed to ooze positive energy, and especially took joy in annoying your father like a sibling would- usually coming to steal an article or clothing, or even just to have a meal with the four of you.  
Oboro, however, was a more delicate matter. Your father never talked about him, but one day when Hizashi had drunkenly stumbled to your home, he had told you everything. Oboro was a close friend of your father’s, and he had lost his life in the past war against the neighboring kingdom of Phomal, and according to Hizashi, your father blamed himself for his friend’s death.  
You and Genken bonded a lot over those months, but you also bonded with Denki and Hanta too.  
Ironically, they started calling you ‘Cat’, as a nickname for technically a nickname for another nickname- which to you was very confusing, but amusing, nonetheless. 
You considered them your brothers, just like Shinso and Eri- though it hurt that they would never know the real you.  
Would they still like you if they did? 
You weren’t sure- but it didn’t matter- Y/N wouldn’t exist for a while.  
Eventually, your troop finally receives a message from the crown, sending you to the Chira Forest- which was by the border of both Inimicus and Bellorant- where you planned to set an ambush.  
Each soldier packed up their tents along with rations, quickly stowing them in the hay wagon you had used- but this time, travel was done on horse.  
At least for Bakugou, Genken and Fern Bat. 
The rest of the troop was forced to walk on foot, painstakingly through the cold, maintaining position and form. 
Snow started to fall, landing on your eyelashes and more irritatingly in your eyes, which made it hard to see, but thankfully Bakugou had chosen to pick steeds with ebony coats, so you could still see them. 
Shivering beside you was Hanta, Denki unfortunately was put in the back of the formation, separating the three of you.  
“Ugh- why are we doing this anyway.” he groans, adjusting his armor straps.  
“You know why Hanta- this battle will hopefully turn the tides in our favor if we can get control of the border through the forest. It’ll give us discreet access to the Inimicans which’ll help when we invade the capital.” 
Hanta rolls his eyes playfully. “Okay Mr. Genius- looks like someone’s been paying attention to Captain Bakugou.” 
You feel your face heat up and resist the urge to punch the ravenette in the arm but restrain yourself.  
“You on the other hand, continue to mope about your nonexistent girlfriend back home.” you retort, cracking a smile.  
Hanta huffs indignantly, and opens his mouth to disagree, only to hear Bakugou’s booming voice over the whipping wind and snow.  
“WE’LL STOP HERE FOR TONIGHT! SET UP YER SHIT AND GET SOME DAMN SLEEP!” he roars, speaking louder to be heard over the snow.  
You can’t help but snort at his vulgarity, knowing that behavior like this was unbefitting of a war captain, but his talent made up for it.  
Setting up camp was easier than it was the first time you did, Hanta, Denki and you working in tandem, knowing exactly what to do without discussing it beforehand. 
After eating a “hearty” meal of rations, you go to bed, but you can’t sleep. 
Anxiousness twists in your stomach, knowing that you were about to fight. In a war. This was what the past 6 months of your life were leading up to- and you were going to put your skills to use. 
Thinking about your father, and Oboro, you feel a pang in your heart. What if you lost Denki or Sero? Or even Bakugou? And what if you couldn’t save them? 
There was no way you would be able to sleep now.  
Slipping out of your tent, you make it down to a relatively secluded spot not far from camp. You sit down on the snow, ignoring the cold that stings your legs, leaning against a tall Hinoki tree.  
Exhaling softly, you let your eyes travel, gazing at the stars. 
You’re not sure how long you sat like that, allowing your aching feet to dwindle down into a light throb, with the company of nothing but the sky and everything in it, before you hear a voice.  
“Oi. What’re ya doin’ out so late huh?”  
You jump, recognizing the voice immediately, scrambling to your feet as quickly as possible. 
“I-I uh sorry uh sir!” you stutter, embarrassed from being caught. “I promise I-” 
Bakugou sighs loudly, cutting you off. “Don’t worry, m’not gonna chew ya out. Everyone’s gotta get out ta clear their minds sometimes. Sit down, I’ll letcha be.” 
You sit but call out to him. “No, stay.” 
He blinks in confusion, but obliges, his hulking form almost dwarfing you in a way that’s comical, sitting down next to you and joins you in your stargazing.  
“Why are you ignoring me?” you blurt out, after sitting 5 minutes in silence.  
Bakugou frowns, and you can feel any walls that you may have unearthed already closing up.  
“Hah? The fuck do I gotta talk ta ya about?” he asks accusatorily, and just like that, you were beneath him again.  
You feel frustration bubble up in you again. You did not throw away your life and spend six months of your life in a military camp to be treated as the dirt beneath your feet. 
“With all due respect sir, I don’t deserve to be treated like I’m not worth more than some rookie who doesn’t know what he’s doing!” you snap. “You know better than anyone that I have been working hard and I happen to know what I’m doing!”  
Bakugou’s scowl deepens, red eyes flashing violently “Ya haven’t been doin’ shit. Yer just another weak ass extra who needs ta know their fuckin’ place. We. Are. Not. Equals.” He grits out, keeping his voice low so as not to wake up the others, but the message is sent across the same.  
“In case ya haven’t noticed, I’m the fuckin captain here. And for damn good reason.” He growls, staring down at you with those piercing vermillion eyes.  
“Ya think yer so talented huh? Have ya had ta see someone die? Millions of people dying- endless bloodshed, have ya seen that?” he snaps, and you flinch. 
You knew that joining the war wasn’t going to be easy. But just the thought of seeing so much death around you was enough to make bile rise to your throat.  
“S’what I fuckin thought.” he scoffs, and turns around to leave. “Yer just as weak as the rest of em.” 
You feel your heart snap in two at his words. All your hard work...for this? It didn’t help that the irrational part of you wanted to get closer to him- no thanks to whatever stupid crush you harbored for the abrasive blond.  
You feel the tears slip down your cheeks, crying for the first time since you left your home. You had made friends, sure, but you didn’t want to be here right now. You wished everything could go back to the way it used to, witty banter with Hitoshi, gently teasing Eri, even times when your father ruffled your hair to annoy you.  
You thought about what your family would say once you came back home. They would be disappointed that you left them, infuriated that you drugged them, and would probably never talk to you again. Your friends wouldn’t trust you, saying that they didn’t know if you were still you anymore. 
But in all honesty, you weren’t. 
You had changed over the past few months; the gentle soul you used to be was still there, but the fiery personality you kept behind lock and key was showing through more now.   
And you didn’t hate it. 
Furiously wiping at your tears, you storm back to your tent.  
What did he know about what you deserved?! Your worth, your value, your talent – why did he get to determine how important you were?! 
You knew this- and yet it still stung. 
But why? Why did your heart feel so...broken? 
It was because you cared. 
You knew he wasn’t always this obnoxious and uncaring asshole, you saw how much he cared for your troop, even if he didn’t show it.  
Yelling at you to eat your rations, pushing you as hard as you could
, but still making sure you took breaks on occasion – he wasn’t all that bad. 
The only person he neglected to show that side of him to was you.  
And it irritated you to no end.  
Slipping back inside your tent, you fall asleep, awaiting the rest of your journey that was to come.  
*** 
It took about a week to get to the border.  
Your feet were significantly sore- you're pretty sure you’d be suffering permanent damage from days of constant walking in freezing temperatures, but as Genken said “Mother Earth doesn’t have favorites.” You knew that this upcoming ambush would be a turning point in the war- and your troop needed to execute it, no matter the weather.  
Setting up camp just outside the woods, Captain Bakugou allows the troop for rest for a bit, before you began your trek into enemy territory. 
Once you were rested, Bakugou commanded you into formation, and into the Chira Forest you went.  
Thump. 
Thump. 
Thump. 
The pounding of your heart was almost deafening, every tiny noise you heard set alarms off in your mind. 
Subconciously, you feel your thumb and index rub against each other – retreat. Some feeling in your gut told you that something was going to go wrong. You weren’t sure why, growing up in Bellorant always gave you a sense of confidence living in the Kingdom of Victory. But at that moment, something just felt...off. 
You were split up, each soldier spread out amongst the trees, but still close enough to be in earshot in case something went wrong.  
Whoosh. 
A blur whips past you in your periphery, and you stop, alert. What was that? 
Shit. 
They had found you.  
Drawing your sword, you race after the blur you saw, yelling out to your fellow soldier to alert them of the ambush failure.  
You find the man you were chasing soon enough, though he was dressed in black he sported the Inimican emblem over his heart. Your training kicks in, thrusting and parrying like your life depended on it.  
Your eyes latched on to an opening and your body reciprocated - his left leg unguarded and you slash at it and watch as he falls, hitting his head against a sharp rock wedged in the ground.  
Blood splatters everywhere, and you stare in shock, sick to your stomach.  
You just killed a man.  
He might’ve had a family to take care of, just like you.  
But you can’t dwell on that, especially now. 
You hear a yell in your earshot, sprinting and weaving through the thick foliage to find Hanta fending off three Inimican soldiers at once.  
You draw your sword- still coated with the blood of the previous man, and together you and Hanta take down the three soldier.  
“Fuck thanks Cat. Bastards would’ve skewered me if you didn’t step in. They don’t exactly train for you for this sorta stuff.” he chuckles nervously. 
You wince at the thought. “Don’t talk like that Hanta, we need to-”  
You see another blur pass by in your periphery, off to go hunt them down until you realized who they were going after. 
Bakugou. 
Your body acted without you realizing, running until the blonde man came into view, pushing him out of the way. Images flash before your eyes- Bakugou's limp body on the floor, red blood comingling with the green grass below your feet. You think about what Genken said about your father and Oboro. Your captain wasn’t going to die on your watch.  
Thump. 
Thump. 
Thump. 
“Watch out!” you cry, shoving Bakugou out of the way, only for the assailant’s sword to slash through your side.  
Fuck. 
Pain erupts through your side, and you cry out in pain, only for the enemy to slam you into the ground, the force combined with the blood loss forcing you to lose consciousness.  
At least you didn’t have to watch anyone die, right?  
In your final moments, you thought about your family, in a world where they waved at you as you left home to embark on the journey that brought you to where you were now.  
Though the energy saps out of your body, your mind is roaring, and one thought is heard above the rest.  
Are you proud of me, dad? 
*** 
You feel...warm? 
Is this what death feels like? 
Stretching out your limbs, you feel cold pricking your legs.  
‘Nope, not death’. You grumble mentally, retracting your legs into the comfort of your blankets.  
You had a pounding headache, and your body hurt like hell. Finally opening your eyes, you find yourself in a tent, by yourself. 
You were still in your armor, hard metal poking you in your sides, the bandages you had on previously made it hard to breathe, and so peeling of the bloodied clothes that belonged to your brother, and start to unwind your bandages, sighing in relief once more oxygen filled your lungs.  
Thankfully, your bra was mostly intact, so you left it on. Allowing yourself to sink into the comfort of the blankets again, your fuzzy mind tries to remember what led you to where you were now.  
You almost died.  
Your eyes widen at the revelation, gingerly fingering the bloody gash that now adorned your abdomen, hissing in pain as sticky red liquid coats your fingertips.  
Suddenly, the entrance to your tent is opened, to reveal a familiar red eyed blonde.  
“Hey, I-” he starts, voice unnaturally soft, only for his voice to cut off completely as he stares at you in shock. 
You stare back at him frozen, realizing that he just saw you sitting there in your bra- firstly embarrassed that anyone had seen you in that state, but with the dawning revelation that rocked you to the core like ice. 
He found out. 
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kittenintheden · 1 day
Text
hit the bricks
surprise PWP drop lol. this is sort of a deleted scene from Not Your Sweetheart. this is not a scenario that will end up in the NYS so you get to have it here in bite-size instead. enjoy!
Rating: E Paring: Astarion/Ori (f!Tav) Word Count: 1.6k Content: 18+, established relationship, semi-public sex, quickie, wall sex, Ori being a bit of a power bottom
Link to AO3
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This stakeout is horrifically boring and likely entirely pointless.
Astarion leans with his back against one side of a narrow alley, arms folded. Ori faces the opposite wall, peeking her head around the corner every now and again to try and spot their quarry.
He sighs.
She continues to look.
“This stakeout is horrifically boring,” he voices aloud. “And likely entirely pointless.”
From further down the alleyway, Elias chimes in. “We’d feel real stupid if they managed to sneak by us, though, wouldn’t we?”
Astarion rolls his eyes as hard as he possibly can and glares at them. They smirk at him, knowing full well where his annoyance comes from. He’s certain of it. When he’d volunteered to pair with Ori for this reconnaissance mission, he hadn’t expected a third wheel. But Gale had insisted that they keep an open method of communication just in case, and, well. Elias is as convenient as it gets, considering they can move from group to group through the Ethereal Plane in seconds.
Whether or not they prefer to be used as de facto communication is yet to be determined.
It’s a bother. He maintains his irritated expression as he goes back to staring at Ori’s arse as she wriggles it back and forth between glances out of the alley. She might be doing it on purpose. The breeches she’s chosen to wear this evening are quite form-fitting.
His brow smooths and his eyes go lidded as he lets himself fall into fantasy, picturing her just like this, but all soft skin, warm and gray beneath his touch as he runs his fingers down the length of her spine. He hasn’t taken her from behind yet. All in good time.
Astarion slow blinks and flicks his tongue over his bottom lip.
Now could be a good time.
He’s brought abruptly back to reality as arousal rises in him, sending a rush of heat between his legs. He huffs and shifts position, straightening one leg with a grimace. Fantastic. Now he’s grouchy again.
Their corner of the square remains unpopulated. At this time of evening in this part of town, passerby are few and far between. He scans the space sullenly for a moment before his eyes are drawn back to Ori. She stands straight, still facing the wall, and puts her arms over her head in a long, arching stretch.
Astarion tucks his chin. That’s definitely on purpose.
“Elias,” Astarion says. “I think perhaps you should go check in on the other team.”
“What for?” they say distractedly, their eyes currently tracking a stray cat at the far end. “Nothing’s happening.”
“Something’s about to,” he says lowly. Then he pushes off the wall and closes the space between his body and Ori’s, pinning her up against the bricks on the opposite wall. She squeaks in surprise.
“Oh, for fuck’s-” is all they hear before Elias’ voice cuts itself off as they vanish.
Ori’s laughing, now. She turns her head to one side and puts her palms against the wall in front of her, pushing gently back against Astarion. He puts his mouth to the side of her neck, running his tongue over her pulse point and punctuating it with a kiss.
“What was that about?” she teases, even as she shivers and shuts her eyes.
“I needed to ask you something.” He places another kiss to her neck, this time closer to her ear.
“Mm. And what’s that?” She stretches her head to one side to give him more access.
Astarion puts his lips to her ear and whispers, “How wet are you?”
She gives a quiet giggle, her mouth stretching in a playful smile as she cracks her eyes to look at him.
“Wet enough,” she whispers back.
That’s all the go-ahead he needs before his hands are at the front of her trousers, undoing her fastenings quicker than she’d be able to herself. As soon as he’s able, he dips a hand down her front and into her smallclothes.
His fingers find her slick and he huffs out a breath, dropping his open mouth to the spot where her shoulder meets her neck. He slides his fingers against her and she gives a controlled moan when he finds the swell of her.
“You’re always so ready for me,” Astarion groans into her skin. “It drives me mad.”
Ori hiccups and responds, “If you knew how good it is to take your cock, you’d be walking around wet all the time, too. But we’re supposed to be, ah, keeping a lookout. Someone could… mmm… catch us with our literal pants down.”
They’re not exactly in public, but they’re not exactly not in public, either. Being quiet may not be an option. Does he care?
Not at the moment.
Astarion stops teasing her clit long enough to push her clothing down past her hips. As he goes to deal with his own ties, he breathes, “Then they’ll get a show, because you know anyone about to stumble on this would have no choice but to watch.”
She answers with a quiet growl and play-bites at him.
“Ah, ah,” he says as he pulls himself free of his trousers. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”
“Disappointing,” she teases.
He presses his hard cock between her legs, causing her to gasp and arch as he draws himself along her slick cunt and grazes her clit. Her thighs are trapped tight together from her breeches, coating him in her wet as he grinds.
“I said quick,” he says, hiding the shake in his voice with a laugh. “I didn’t say disappointing.”
The head of his cock finds her willing entrance and he pushes inside, the slide smooth, but oh, he didn’t think that through, that’s very-
Ori clocks the way he tries to quiet the moan that spills from him as he enters her. She clocks it even as she leans her head onto his shoulder, arching her back as hard as she can with him pressing her to the wall. The glide and stretch are perfect. She can feel him everywhere.
But he’s not moving.
“What’s wrong, beautiful?” she says, voice shivering.
Astarion has been clenching his jaw. She can feel him loosen it as he says, “You are so t-tight like this.”
She grins, holding back her laugh. “Did you…?”
“No,” he huffs, wrapping his hand around hers where it’s pressed against the brick. “Give a professional a little credit, dear. I just, ah, needed a moment.”
“Glad to hear-” she starts.
“Moment’s over,” he interrupts.
His hips begin working with short, shallow thrusts, grinding Ori up against the wall, her front pressed to the masonry, and she pants prettily for him as he ignites the fire between them. He keeps one hand over hers on the wall and the other wrapped around her hip, guiding her in time with his rhythm.
She feels exquisite. He presses his lips to her exposed shoulder and sucks, vaguely aware he’ll leave a mark there, but he doesn’t care, because it feels good this feels good she feels good all around him. Fangs graze skin, tempting. Her arse is so plush pressed close.
He moves the hand on her hip around to her front and between her legs, using his fingers to spread her just a little wider, exposing her to better feel the root of him on her clit every time he thrusts into her. It has the intended effect as she whimpers out his name surrounded on all sides by soft ah ah ahs. Gods, it’s hot.
Taking her here, hidden but not invisible, makes the rush of being discovered hit his blood and urgency pulses through his core. He pulls his mouth from her and pants through his teeth, molten heat coiling around the base of his spine.
“I need you to come for me, darling,” he whispers. “Can you do that? Can you come for me? Don’t let me…” He gasps on the next breath and continues, “... embarrass myself, love.”
“Say please,” she breathes with a surprising amount of control given her current position.
“What?” he blurts, brow furrowed as he continues to rut into her. His body wants to come so badly that it’s making thought beyond gods gods fuck yes gods difficult.
Ori groans this time before she repeats, “Say. Please.”
Astarion presses his mouth to the side of her face and says, “Please, please, come, please come, please, love, love, please, come, come-”
She clenches down hard around him and he whines, barely managing to ride out her climax before he hits his own, the flutters of her peak continuing all around him. Ori bites her own forearm, her cry lost against her skin. Astarion does his best to stifle his inelegant grunts as he spends himself inside her, the relief palpable.
They take a moment before Ori mumbles, “Neither of us really considered how to extricate ourselves from this situation, did we?”
“We did not,” Astarion mumbles back with his mouth against her temple.
There’s another beat of quiet.
From around the corner out of view, they hear Elias say, “The mark is here, you’d better be done, I swear, I’m not coming around there. Let’s go.”
The mad scramble to separate and quickly rearrange clothing goes smoother than expected, all things considered. It isn’t until they pick up their things and make to run for the square that Ori pulls a face.
“All right, love?” Astarion asks, dagger already drawn.
“Yeah,” she says. “I’ll, erm. Deal with it later.”
She speeds by him and it takes him a full second to catch on before he snorts out a laugh and follows her.
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cbrownjc · 1 day
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Hi!! I’m wondering if you know where in the book(s) do Louistat reunited and if there are books/chapters of books that focus on their interactions and dynamics after they reunited? Thank you!!
Hi,
So, Louis and Lestat officially reunite in the books towards the end of the second book in the series The Vampire Lestat -- in October of 1985, in San Fransisco. The night before Lestat's first (and only) rock concert.
Now, there is a reunion scene between them in Interview with the Vampire but subsequent books in the series, particularly Tale of the Body Thief, have Lestat flat-out saying the reunion scene in that book never happened. So . . . 🤷🏾‍♀️
Anyway, their reunion in the book The Vampire Lestat is actually quite lovely IMO:
I felt the lump come up in my throat. I was trembling. I tried to remember what was important, even in this moment, that I must scan the night for others, must be careful. Danger. But none of that mattered now. I knew. I shut my eyes for a second. It did not help anything, make anything easier. [ . . . ] And I forgot all the stiff surly things I had planned to say and I just took him in my arms. We embraced the way we never had in the past. We held each other the way Gabrielle and I used to do. And then I ran my hands over his hair and his face, just letting myself really see him, as if he belonged to me. And he did the same. Seems we were talking and not talking. True silent voices that didn't have any words. Nodding a little. And I could feel him brimming with affection and a feverish satisfaction that seemed almost as strong as my own. But he was quiet suddenly, and his face became a little drawn. "I thought you were dead and gone, you know," he said. It was barely audible. "How did you find me here?" I asked. "You wanted me to," he answered. Flash of innocent confusion. He gave a slow shrug of the shoulders. Everything he did was magnetizing me just the way it had over a century ago. Fingers so long and delicate, yet hands so strong. "You let me see you and you let me follow you," he said. "You drove up and down Divisadero Street looking for me." "And you were still there?" "The safest place in the world for me," he said. "I never left it. They came looking for me and they didn't find me and then they went away. And now I move among them whenever I want and they don't know me. They never knew what I looked like, really." "And they'd try to destroy you if they knew," I said. "Yes," he answered. "But they've been trying to do that since the Theater of the Vampires and the things that happened there. Of course Interview with the Vampire gave them some new reasons. And they do need reasons to play their little games. They need the impetus, the excitement. They feed upon it like blood." His voice sounded labored for a second. He took a deep breath. Hard to talk about all this. I wanted to put my arms around him again but I didn't. "But at the moment," he said, "I think you are the one that they want to destroy. And they do know what you look like." Little smile. "Everybody knows now what you look like. Monsieur Le Rock Star." He let his smile broaden. But the voice was polite and low as it had always been. And the face suffused with feeling. There had been not the slightest change there yet. Maybe there never would be. I slipped my arm around his shoulder and we walked together away from the lights of the house. We walked past the great gray hulk of the copter and into the dry sunbaked field and towards the hills. I think to be this happy is to be miserable, to feel this much satisfaction is to burn.
That isn't the whole of the reunion scene, just the first main part of it.
After this, Louis and Lestat don't really part in the same way -- at least not for as long as they did after Lestat was "killed" and Louis and Claudia fled to Europe. Louis and Lestat are just kind of on-again, off-again in the books after they reunite again in The Vampire Lestat, but I wouldn't say there are major scenes that focus on them coming back together again while they are in their on-again, off-again phase -- at least as far as the books I've read, which only goes up to Blackwood Farm.
I'm still reading Prince Lestat for the first time right now (up to Chapter 14 so far), but I do know that Prince Lestat is the book where Louis and Lestat come back together and, this time, stay together for good once they do (meaning no more on-again, off-again). @nalyra-dreaming, @virginiaisforvampires, or anyone else who's finished that book please feel free to chime in with the scene of info from that book regarding their reunion if you can or feel up to it 🙂.
As to books or chapters of books that focus on their dynamic after they reunite. . . that isn't really something that can be noted or listed in some general way IMO. Because, quite honestly, none of the books focus on them and their relationship alone after Interview with the Vampire. What you see of their relationship in the books following the first one are just character things and moments that are interwoven into whatever larger plot is going on in each book at the time. Honestly, there are some books in which Louis barely appears at all (such as Memnoch the Devil).
So yeah, quite honestly, the first book is the only one that really focuses on their relationship. After that, their relationship together is just part of the character dynamics going on within other stories and plots. So it would be way too hard to list every single interaction and dynamic they have in each book because of that, sorry.
Anyway, I hope this answers your question. 🙂
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oceantornadoo · 2 days
Text
mad max: the 141 (price x f!reader)
ch 3: johnny's home
canon-typical violence, sexual violence is referenced (but will not happen), general misogyny. the 141 are the good guys, just a bit rough around the edges
series masterlist (also has more world building info)
--
you screamed.
john woke with a start, forcing you behind him as he searched for any danger. ghost and gaz burst into the room, guns at the ready. you were shaking uncontrollably, fear coursing through your body and tightening around your throat. and suddenly, ghost, that hulk of a man who had given you grunts and gruff words, started laughing.
it was a gravelly sound, like a dirt bike over desert sand. gaz joined in, his laughter like the flow of gasoline, rich but tainted. the absolute gall of them. there had been a man, you’d seen him! he was sitting there in the corner, shaking with laughter himself while john’s grip on your waist loosened. john reached for the lightbulb near the wall, flooding the room with light.
“steamin’ jesus, lass, almos’ gave me a heart attack.” the man in the red mask huffed out in between laughs. his accent was unfamiliar to you, almost foreign. “soap, it’s good to see you.” gaz was patting him on the back while ghost shook his head, the shock of the scene still wearing off. john was still holding you, you realized, still pressing your front to his back. but now, his harsh grip was gone and replaced with a warm touch. he rubbed circles into the thin fabric of your shift, inherently calming you down. “darlin’.” john was moving you out from behind him, the tension in his shoulders releasing softly. “this is soap.” he tried to coax you towards soap, who was still catching up with ghost and gaz, but your feet stayed firmly planted. “i thought…i thought he was dead.”
“‘m alive and well. had some other business.” soap acknowledged your question. gaz made another comment under his breath and the group laughed again. you could see the day’s tension finally fading away. you’d thought the group was just harsh, beaten down by the desert sun like every other man in the wasteland, but it was clear they were just worried about soap’s business, whatever that was. john, sensing your refusal to move, left you standing as he made his way over to his men. they all straightened their back almost imperceptibly, giving him a true captain’s respect. he gave soap a couple pats to the back, almost ensuring he was truly here, and the group relaxed again.
“sorry fer scarin’ her, captain. jus’ wanted a look at the wee lass.” john looked back at you, fidgeting with the fabric of your dress as you recovered from your previous fright. “and?” soap grinned. “aye, she’s a bonnie one. you sharin’?” that was the wrong question to ask. john’s face became a mask, hard as desert stone. “no. there will be no sharing.” john looked each of his men in the eyes, making his point clear. a course of whispered “yes, sirs” reached his ear, their deference easily earned. “go’on now, back to bed. long trip in the morning. good to see you, soap.” the men nodded, taking their leave, still huddled together and shooting you glances as they left.
you were already back in the bedroll, front facing the wall as you gave john your back. he turned off the light, then climbed in, refusing to give you the space that you clearly desired. “you mad at me, sweetheart?” his large hand traveled over your hip to the bottom of your stomach, pulling you in closer to him. you shook your head, unsure why the scene had affected you so. you were practically their prisoner, yet you were mad they didn’t tell you about soap? it didn’t make sense. you were obviously suffering some delusions from being surrounded by such an oasis.
john nosed at your neck as he pulled your ass against his crotch, his body all hard against yours. “say it.” it sounded like an order, but it could have been a plea in the way he said it, his voice low in the dark. “you’re not my captain, you can’t order me around.” he chuckled behind you, the sound warming your core like the sun, making you squirm in his arms. “that’s it, hm? mad your captain didn’t clue you in?” he was almost taunting you now, that hand traveling from your stomach to the underside of your breasts. his knuckle brushed the underside of your tits so lightly, you almost thought it was a dream. “well, you lied to me too, so we’re even.” you turned around quickly, all fire now. “what are you talking about?” he gave you a small smirk, beard shifting with the movement. “you’ve been with men before.”
your jaw dropped. “i’m a virgin.” he clucked his tongue at that. “sure you are love, but you’ve been with men before. you’re too comfortable with me for that to be false.” you huffed, turning back to your original position. “so, what.” his arm snaked back around you again, that hand inching up until he was massaging your tits, like he had the right. “jus’ like to have all the facts, love.” he inched his thigh between both of yours, the meat of it pressing against your core. you bit back a moan as you tried not to hump him, willing your body to calm down. you blamed it on the adrenaline of the night’s earlier events. “i’m not going to let you fuck me.” he laughed at the sound of a curse word leaving your lips, your princess facade abandoned. “no, you’ll be begging me for it. now go-“, he pushed his thigh harder against you, leg hair providing delicious friction against your clothed clit, “to sleep.” and under your captain’s orders, you slept.
i’m grasping around for a plot but i just keep coming up with smutty interactions😔
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sukunas-wife · 1 day
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Hehehe rising at 12:57 in the morning for my day of birth 🥺🤍🤍
In commemoration of my birthday, I offer Birthday Sukuna (Student edition) 🥺 I love Big Daddy Ryomen, he loves his wife so much even though she has no find details 💀 (Yet- maybe) they give me Kushina/Minato when Naruto had his Madara induced dream
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In all things, the Sukuna family wasn't to extravagantly celebrate holidays. “Special days” such as Christmas, Halloween, Valentines, White Day, and those other seasonal festivities would be recognized, however Ryomen Senior and Junior would usually brush it off, leaving it to their wife and mother to make arrangements.
Akira Sukuna, was a woman who came from a family who loved to celebrate the holidays. Seeing it as a way for the family to come together and tighten loose bonds. Birthdays and Anniversaries in specific were her priority. A sentiment her husband had shared from the beginning. If there was a special day, it would be his wife’s birthday, or his son's birthday. Followed very closely by his wedding anniversary.
Now here she stood yelling at her son, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN Y/N’S BIRTHDAY IS THIS WEEK AND YOU DON'T HAVE A GIFT OR ANYTHING PLANNED OUT!? WHAT DID YOU DO FOR HER LAST BIRTHDAY!? DON'T TRY TO SPEAK OVER ME YOU PROBABLY DIDN'T DO ANYTHING THEN EITHER! RYOMEN SUKUNA JUNIOR, I MAY HAVE BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD BUT I WILL NOT HESITATE TO TAKE YOU OUT OF IT YOU KNOW HOW IMPORTANT BIRTHDAYS ARE I SHOULD- OH- MMM, YOU- RYOMEN GET YOUR SON.” She was livid, and pacing around in front of the table where she had sat her son after he nonchalantly mentioned your birthday would be during the week. Then proceeded to say “Oh I don’t have anything.” After his mother asked what he was going to do to celebrate.
Sukuna turned to look at his father who was attempting to avoid the scene, “Ryomen,” he cleared his throat unable to think of the proper words, “You should understand by now how important days like these are. They come around once a year. Holidays will continue with or without us, birthdays can only be celebrated with that person. You don’t celebrate the birthday of a dead person or a person who is no longer in your life, we celebrate the living because they’re alive and with us in these moments. Our time here is limited and that’s what makes it special, that’s what makes spending time with your loved ones special.” He looked at his wife for approval, she had a soft smile, “Aww my Ryomen.” She raised her arms bringing her husband into a hug, a hand on his face bringing him down to kiss him.
Sukuna cringed at the sight, and scoffed when he saw his dad wink at him. Of course his dad would know how to play his moms game and get away with it.
“Now,” his mom tuned to him with a smile, break into your saving and go find something nice.” Sukuna hesitated in getting up, waiting as if there was something more to be said, and there was. “AND I'M JUDGING EVERYTHING YOU DO AND BRING SO YOU BETTER BE READY TO EXPLAIN AND DEFEND YOURSELF WHEN YOU GET BACK RYOMEN.”
He was quick to evacuate hearing his dad laugh, “That’s my girl.” He heard the mumbles of his parents as he ran to his room and out the house, “Find something nice…” he scoffed to himself, “I’ll find something better than nice, I’ll find something amazing you’re gonna be jealous.” He was mouthing off, shaking his head while looking at the cards in his wallet. He had one escape plan if something was out of his limit, which would be hard considering his father never turned off his weekly allowance from all those years ago. He let out a smug laugh before he was officially ready to go.
—- —- —- —- —-
“So what’s the difference between this and that?” Sukuna was squinting displeased at the poor lady behind the counter. She looked around, frantically begging silently for her superior to hurry with his lunch. “Well, this is 2.8 carrots for 775,939.73 yen…” she motioned to the bracelet on the velvet display in front of him.
She hesitated to turn around in fear he’d pocket the bracelet and run off. But his stare had her more fearful of offending him by moving the bracelet away. “I-I’m sorry sir, would you please tell me what you're asking about when you refer to ‘that’.” He gestured to a necklace sitting on a high shelf over a velvet stand, “That necklace up there.” She slowly turned her head, shaky hand resting on the glass case ready to snatch up the bracelet at any sudden movements. Sukuna was occupied tapping away at his phone doing maths to justify his spending.
“S-sir,” the jeweller carefully placed the velvet stand in front of him on the glass case. She watched as Sukuna put his phone away, hand coming up and taking the centre diamond between his curled pointer finger and thumb. He lifted it higher to get a closer look at it, uncurling his hand to let the strand of diamonds run over his fingers. “This is seven carrots in total weight and it goes for 1,901,013.11 yen. It’s called a graduated diamond necklace. The diamonds graduate in size as they near the centre. Many couples or parents for their children like to start off with a hand full of diamonds usually 5-7, odd numbers so the centre stone usually remains the largest and add on more as they achieve accompaniments in life such as graduation, engagement, marriage, job promotions, pregnancies, anniversaries or birthdays.” The sales woman smiled at him, missing his eye twitch, “birthdays…” was all she heard him say before he took a deep breath and sighed, “This may be improbable but will you take a full single payment.” The lady blinked, “I..I’m.. Yes?”
—- —- —- —- —-
“Hey! I just called! You didn’t answer so I thought you were busy and weren’t gonna call back.” Your voice on the phone had Sukuna’s lips shifting into a faint cross of a smile and a smirk.
“I know, I watched the phone ring.” His grin grew when you scoffed “How rude. This is why you're not in the running for Boyfriend of the year and my plushie is.” His grin didn’t falter, “Yeah yeah, see if that little shit buys you your McDonalds happy meal when you want to collect their stupid little toys.” He heard your hushed devious laugh and rose a brow, “why-WHAT ARE YOU DOING RIGHT NOW?” You spoke over him, and his eye twitched, “I’m out, running errands foorrr… running errands.” “Awwww you’re such a good boy running errands for your mommy huh?” He rolled his eyes at your tone, “Yeah sure.” He started to turn on his car, “WAIT” his eyes snapped to his phone, “Ryo, wait wait wait. Hold on, don’t do anything.” He started looking around, there wasn’t a chance in hell you were telling him to wait and not do anything just by chance. He saw you, running up the sidewalk and around his car to the passenger side and jumping in, your phones echoing until you ended the call. He looked at you, mouth slightly open and brows furrowed, “Hi.” You smiled at him, “y/n…” he sighed, “What were you doing running down the sidewalk.”
“Oh, well, I had to um, I was doing a thing where I was going to go and-“ he cut you off with an unimpressed look, “You were going to McDonalds for that hello kitt-Sanrio collection!” You cut him off with a grin leaning forward and smacking the dashboard, “C'mon let’s go! The fries are only getting colder.” He sighed, “Fine but first, get away from the dashboard.” His arm pushing you back against the seat as he reached over to grab your seat belt was something you’d never fight against, instead you always took the opportunity to grab his face and kiss his cheek.
“So what are you doing here at,” you looked out the window, “Woah, that’s the fancy jewellery store.” He shrugged, “Picking up a gift.” He was nonchalant and you awed, “Aww your dad is so sweet to your mom, he loves his wife so much.” He shook his head with a faint smile, side eyeing how your expression, how your eyes lingered on the shop with a soft smile. “Alright, let’s go.”
—- —- —- —- —-
“Cmmoonn Ryyooooo.” You whine sitting beside him. He was still sucking from his straw, side eyes you and he tilted his head to the side. You took it as a yes and started to raise your hand and he pulled his head back, “No.” you huffed, “You’re just jealous I’m prettier.” He rolled his eyes watching as you threw your Kuromi comb back onto the booth's table and picked up the sliding Little Twin Stars mirror, opening it to look at yourself and nodding your head. He laughed and put his empty cup down. You looked at his empty cup as he flicked the fries on the wrapper around before eating one. You picked up your cup and took a sip holding it in your hand as if your were offering it, he took and started to sip on what was left of your drink and you angled the mirror to look at him. He let the straw go to make a face at you through the mirror. Snapping your head to him, “Why did you drink my sprite?” He looked confused, “You gave it to m-why did you drink my sprite I was just holding it here and you took-.” You closed your mouth when he pressed some fries to your lip and you shook your head, “Why did you drink-“ he held the fries out to you and you smiled trying to pull away and he did it again, finally you took a bite of the fries and he snapped back at you “why did you eat my fries?” You looked away smiling half covering your face with your spread open hand, “I can't stand you.” You missed his grin, “It’s a good thing you’re sitting down then.” You both sat back against the booth, watching the orange even slowly turn pink. The people passing, the ones on bikes, the kids running by looking like they were avoiding someone they had caused trouble for. You smiled propping your face on the palm of your hand, staring off into the skyline watching the birds pass over. “What do you think tomorrow will be like?” He eyed you, following your stare into the city building skyline. “Hopefully quiet, I wanted to sleep in but I ended up getting in trouble this morning and sent out.” You hummed, “heh, your mom reminds me of Naruto’s mom, don’t tell me your dad I’d like Minato too.” Sukuna went blank, doing his best to remember what you were talking about. There was a small twitch in his lips, “It’s close.”
You smiled huffing through your nose, “Oh wanna go with me to pick up a dress? I was supposed to earlier but ya know.” You picked up the little hello kitty case and shook it around, “I got distracted.” He smirked down at you, “Got distracted or just wanted a ride?” Your sheepish grin gave it away, “Alright, let’s clean up and go.”
—- —- —- —- —-
“You’ve been out all day, what did you get?” Sukuna’s mother was quick to stop him at the entrance, “You don’t have anything big so I’m hoping you have plans?” Her eye twitched the same way he had earlier under the stress.
“I do.” She smiled pulling him in, great WE” she yelled back over her shoulder, “want to hear all about it.”
Sukuna heard his dad groan, “Oh- I mean ofcourse we do.”
That’s how he ended up sat across from them, all of them in silence after he explained his gift choice… “Well.. congratulations on your engagement sweetie.” Sukuna and his father looked at their respective wife and mom, “I’m sorry, dove, what did you say?”
“It's graduation. diamond. necklace. Ryomen, that’s a lifelong commitment. Y/n isn’t his daughter so he would be stupid if he’s going to give this gift away and he doesn’t plan on having a future with her. But, that’s not my little Ryomen. No, he’s smarter than that, so I’m congratulating him on his pre engagement statement.” She looked away sipping from her cup of tea that had long ago gone cold. Her husband was looking at her and she placed her cup down, “Don’t argue with me about this, he came in here and said it’s for LIFE ACHIEVEMENTS, then said graduations, Engagements, marriages, pregnancies and anniversaries- does that not sounds like the process of what their lives could pass through???” Her husband paused to think about it, she was making sense, Sukuna was looking between the both of them, “I also bought a dress…” His mom smiled fondly, “Oh that’s sweet, what colour is it?” “…White..” his mom laughed softly, not at his choices but how in her head it sounds like a marriage was taking place, replace the necklace with a ring and she’d be telling him goodbye next week.
“Well, as long as you put thought into it I’m happy and I know y/n will love it.” His mothers soft eyes and smile matched her tone and he nodded. “I hope so, she basically chose it out and left it because she said she couldn’t ever buy something that fancy without a special occasion.” He scrolled through his phone to find the video of you trying on the dress, his mom saw the look on your face, how your eyes lit up when you turned to the mirror, the smile on your face and how your head snapped to him and ‘you’re taking a picture?’ You smiled with closed eyes holding up a peace sign and, ‘Heh, that’s the best you got?’ He questioned you and you pouted, ‘How do you like it?’ The sales woman who finished laying out the dress asked you, “It’s really pretty! I love the sleeves! It’s a little simple but it would look amazing in pictures.’ Your excitement shined through, ‘It’s our first event dress created, I’m so glad you love it, it’s only 152,100.05 yen. We can alter sizes and length upon request if you’d like, but in my opinion I think the length is perfect here, but in the back we could add a small clasp to hold it in just a bit more snug.’ Your blank smile was enough for Sukuna to cut off the video and go to your rescue.
“Sweetie.” His mom smiled at him, but he was smiling like a fool at his phone, the silly look of your blank smile made him laugh, “Ryomen.” He looked up at his mom, “That’s an event gown…” he blinked and nodded, “I heard her say it was an event gown.” His brows furrowed, “A WEDDING, event gown.” His mom stressed the word, “I would know, I was there and I saw the dress when they first brought it in store a week ago for their wedding debut.”
“Biology wants what it wants.”
—- —- —- —- —-
‘Are you going to class in the morning?’ You squinted at Sukuna’s message, it was almost midnight when you had woken up to his message. ‘No, I’m gonna sleep in late. I don't wanna go in tomorrow.’ You watched the screen of your phone when the chat bubble popped up. ‘FINE THEN, didn’t wanna see your face in the morning anyway 😒’ you smiled and laughed lightly at his message. Head nodding as you yawned, blurry vision as you got ready to nod off again.
‘Still awake?’ You blinked slowly at the message, typing your answer and accidentally hitting answer when a call came in.
‘Hey’ Sukuna’s voice on the phone was comforting, ‘hey.’ You were cut off by a yawn. ‘Y/n.. I need to tell you something.’ Yawning again you tried to answer, ‘yeah?’
‘I…’ the line went quiet for a second ‘Happy Birthday y/n…’ silence, you smiled, ‘Thanks Ryo.’ The smile was evident in your voice as you yawned again. Silence took over the line, you laid their comfortably to the thought of Sukuna being the first to wish you happy birthday. ‘Y/n?’ You hummed, ‘Ryomen.’ He let out what sounded like a smug scoff. “I love you…’
You grinned like a mad man, “I love you Ryomen.” You could hear the smile in his voice when he finally spoke up again, ‘Get some rest I’ll see you tomorrow then.’ You hummed with a smile, ‘yeeaah, I’ll see you tomorrow Kuna’m.’
—- —- —- —- —-
Waking up at 5 in the morning wasn’t ideal on your birthday, yet here you were, in a haze staring at your window that was being tapped on. The brief wave of panic had you shooting up until you heard the voice of your cursed lover. Sighing you opened the window and he quietly made his way in.
You yawned trying to ask him why he was here and he just brushed you off kicking off his shoes and taking off his sweater showing the long sleeve shirt that hugged his frame. He pulled down his sweat pants and you were going to look away until he mumbled “Calm down I’m wearing pants.” You looked back to see he was in fact wearing a thinner set of joggers, before he threw himself onto your bed throwing the blanket back. You looked at him as he looked at you, “You coming or not?” You weren’t sure what to say, as another yawn racked through your lungs and chest, “Yeah let me just.” You turned and locked your room door playing a risky game of getting caught with your boyfriend in your bed or getting yelled at for having a locked door. Either way, you’d take a scolding for a locked door any day. Yawning as you made your way to your bed, Sukuna rolled his eyes when he saw how much space you left. With one arm he hauled you over into his chest using the other to pull the blanket up over your shoulder. You settled on his chest as he held you tight, “Happy Birthday brat.” You smiled and hummed, a quiet “yaaay”, left you as you fell asleep on his chest to the faint scent of his cologne comforting you.
—- —- —- —- —-
It wasn’t until you woke up that you realised you had drooled over Sukuna’s chest. You looked up at him and he had an arm thrown over his eyes, the other wrapped around you loosely. His chest was rising and falling slowly as you started to sit up. You sat up and smiled down at him. When his hand slipped from your side he started to wake up groaning. “What time is it?” He was drowsy based on his squinty eyes that kept closing slowly and he’d force them open again. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, “It’s 10:56.” He hummed and let his head fall back into your pillow. You sat there just staring at him and he was staring off at the roof.
“I’m hungry..” he looked at the glow in the dark stars on your ceiling before answering you, “Where do you wanna go?” He turned to you to see your cheesy grin before he popped your thigh with his hand, “It’s your birthday we’re not going to McDonald’s.” You huffed, pulling his hand into yours, spreading his fingers out and popping his joints, “How about one of those fancy kfc lunches?” He laughed, flexing his hand before intertwining his hand with your own, “I’ll take you somewhere I know that little brain of yours will be entertained entirely.” You would’ve squinted at his little Brian comment but let it slide, “alright, I’ll get dressed then and we can go. He rolled over to face you, you were sitting facing his chest before he propped his head up on an arm, “The place doesn't open til four, we have about 6 hours to burn if there’s something you wanna do.” You sighed, “I don’t know, I’m just hungry.” He huffed, flaring his dramatics, “Fine, get ready I’ll take you somewhere you can eat BEFORE we go eat.” He watched as you jumped up running over to your closet pulling out whatever it was before rushing out your room. He made quick work of getting out of your bed and running to your window to pull his bag in. It was a duffle bag that had your presents, his clothes and a few extra things.
By the time you came back he was dressed and stretched out over your bed that he tried to straighten up. “Took long enough.”
—- —- —- —- —-
You were indulgent in the little treats Sukuna kept paying for. By now you had one to many mini bags and Sukuna was carrying a few more. Each one was filled with chocolates and sweets you had picked up from every shop he had taken you to. Biting into a chewy fudge you were content with how it was sweet but not overwhelming, it was smooth and didn’t taste strongly or bitter. Turning to Sukuna with a smile you held the piece up to his lips, any other day he’d resist and make you work for it but he was curious and immediately inhaled your sweet making you laugh. The both of you sat in silence sharing sweets and opinions on what could be better. You mostly listened to Sukuna as he critiqued harsher things.
“Now what?” You asked as he chewed on another piece you pushed to his lips. He shrugged, “Is there anything you wanted to do?” You hummed looking around, and down at your shoes. They were your worn down sneakers, you’d wear when you’d often go out with Sukuna because they were more comfortable than those stiff loafers you’d use for uniform. You kicked your feet, “I wanna go buy new shoes, pretty soon I’ll have to retire these.” He looked at your shoes, “Yeah, didn’t wanna say anything but they look like they’re begging for a break.” You smacked his shoulder and he grinned at you catching your hand squeezing it, “truth hurts sweetheart.”
“Alright, let’s go then, take my bags.” You handed him the rest of the small bags that held chocolates neither of you liked. He rolled his eyes taking them from you and following you God knows where.
That’s how you ended up here, trying on shoes with Sukuna watching intently. You made the mistake of asking his opinion and he had taken his role seriously. “No, you’re not a show girl y/n you’re not going to wear six inch heels anywhere. You’ll break your ankle anyway, look.” His open hand motioned to your wobbly walk. “You just hate me cause I’m pretty Ryo.” He let out a single laugh, “Try these instead.” You sat across the aisle from him holding up your foot to him, “Change it for me?” If you were anyone else he would’ve thrown the box of shoes at you. But alas, there he was with a soft smile a scoff, untying your heel and putting your sock back on he placed the new shoe on your foot. They were simple converse but you were gleaming because he put it on and even tied it for you. “Perfect.” You wiggled your foot at him and he grabbed your foot by the sole of the shoe pulling the shoe off, “Great, we’ve been here so long I think we can go eat now.” You hummed lifting your other foot for him to take the heel off and put your sock on. He watched as you huffed trying to slip your old shoes on. “What about all the bags?” “We can take them back to your home and I’ll give you your birthday present.” He saw how your eyes lit up, “How about now?”
The way you exaggerated batting your eyelashes had a small smile tugging at his lips, “I left it at your house so you wouldn’t bother me all day, let’s go pay and then when we get there you can open it. I won’t fight you about it because you have to use it today or I’ll take it back.” You were smiling like a love struck fool when he offered his hand. You took it, letting him help you up before hugging his arm resting your head on his shoulder, “I love you.” He looked down at you from an angle, “mhm.”
—- —- —- —- —-
“No… Sukuna..” you held the dress to your chest looking at him with a sympathetic smile, before holding the dress up and smiling at it before hugging it to your chest again looking at Sukuna, “you didn’t have too Ryo, I love it so much, but it was so expensive I can’t, awww but it’s so pretty Ryyoooo.” You whined doing a little stompy dance squeezing your dress to your chest before throwing it in your bed beside Sukuna. He reached over to pick it up until you were between his legs squeezing him in a hug, his head pressed against your chest with wide eyes. He couldn’t get used to the displays of affection, still he let his hands hover over you until he hugged your waist letting you press your cheek to the top of his head and squeeze him harder, “I lied you are in the running for best boyfriend of the year.” You didn’t see the way he smiled but you felt the way he laughed when he pulled away shaking his head, “Where’s that damn plushie anyway.” You pulled him back into your chest fearing for your plushies life, “Uh, no where.” He squeezed your waist in his hud before he tried to push you back so he could stand. “Get dressed, I need to get ready.” You finally let him go and he turned to give your dress a Quick Look before grabbing his bag and heading out to the bathroom.
It took half an hour for you to get ready and you were still in a Fritz about shoes and how you were supposed to close your zipper. Finally you gave up sitting down on your bed huffing. The knock on your door pulled you out of your despair, “help me..” your plea had Sukuna dropping his bag and walking over to you with a focused face as he motioned you to stand. You did and face your open closet door, the body mirror there showed your reflection and how elegant the dress made you look. You smiled at yourself watching as Sukuna looked like he was struggling, “Step forward.” Was all he said as he finally stood behind you and zipped up your dress, you were smiling bright at your reflection, watching how it looked like he was pulling at something. “Is something wrong?” He looked up at you through the mirror, “Yeah something is missing.” His furrowed brows looked concerned through the mirror and you gave him a worried look, “Put your hands down I’ll fix it.” You kept your arms to your side hearing him rustle something around before he looked up bringing his arms around your shoulder over chest. He pressed his hands together before pulling them apart slowly showing you the reflection of the necklace he had bought. Your jaw dropped before you started choking, “RYOMEN.” You tried to step back only to bump into his chest as he laughed, stepping back to clip the necklace onto you, “What.” “NO RYO you didn’t have to, please, I’m gonna cry.” His smile was priceless, he looked so soft staring at you through the mirror. The edges of his lips were pulled up into soft smiles, his eyes were full of sentiment. “I think it fits well y/n.” You felt heat race to your face as you forced your eyes closed cupping your hands over your face. You turned to face him, hugging him and burying your face in his chest to hide your face, “rryyooo.” Your muffled whine was ignored when he laughed lightly patting you back with his hand, “if you really don’t want it I’ll take it-NO IT'S MINE.” The way you turned your head to the side with a sheepish pout led him to sigh, smiling down at you, “you’re a mess y/n.”
—- —- —- —- —-
“Ooou, well aren’t you just fancy.” You shook your head side to side taunting him. “No, I just don’t spend all my money at McDonald’s for toys.” He flicked your forehead making you squirt him and make a face. “So… what is this exactly?”
“Just trust me you’ll like it alright, my parents are here also or else we wouldn’t get a private room so you can have fun with that also.” You both stopped when the hostess stopped in front of a Shoji door, “This is the room reserved for Ryomen Sukuna and company. Company has already arrived.” She slid the door open and there you saw Mr and Mrs Sukuna. Your bright smile was genuine as you greeted them, being wished happy birthday and squeezed into a tight hug by his mother. She held at arm's length, “Oh you look beautiful! This is beautiful. Where did you get it? You look very nice y/n.” Her eyes fell on her son, she looked him up and down, “I see you took a lesson from your father.” Her husband choked in the background looking at his son. Black dress shirt, black dress pants, shiny dress shoes and a black tie. “I don’t see anything wrong with it…” his mumble had her casting him a side glance, “There are other colours other than black husband.” He grinned, “Says the woman wearing black.” You smiled before she turned back to you rolling her eyes, “men.” Your laugh had her refocusing on you, “assuming Sukuna was with you all day after I got a call saying he was in fact not in school, how was your day?” She was smiling, nodding along as you went about telling her of the chocolates you tried, she was surprised Sukuna ate any considering he didn’t like chocolate all that much. Even more surprised when you told her you spent over an hour shoe shopping before he finally found you a decent pair. The two of you kept talking until she asked what he had gotten you as a gift. She was how you perked up jumping out of your chair to show her your dress in its full glory, “He bought me this dress, I really loved it when we saw it in a store, but I couldn’t get it because of how pricey it was. I almost started crying and telling him to take it back.” His mother admired your enthusiasm and sheepish smile, “Well, it looks amazing y/n. A beautiful dress for a beautiful girl.” You blushed with a sheepish smile. “Thank you he also got me this actually, you asked earlier but I didn’t get the chance to answer.” She watched as your hand touched the necklace. Your expression changed to a soft smile as you looked down, “I kept telling him he didn’t have too, I actually started crying.” She looked at her son, he was staring at you with a goofy smile until his dad elbowed him talking about something he didn’t have a clue of.
She smiled, “You’re a very lucky girl Y/n, but I can say that Ryomen is even luckier to have found someone like you.”
You all turned to the door when there was a tap. A chef rolled in with a cart, “It’s a special day, so we’re going to make it extra special!” Sukuna’s mom left you to sit by her husband leaving room for Sukuna to sit with you, “You’re going to love this.” You smiled at him, he was staring at you with a small smile. You reached over under the table taking his hand and bringing it to your lap squeezing it in both of yours. “Thank you for everything Ryomen, I love you.” It wasn't until your hand came up to bring his face closer and you kissed his jaw he reacted. His father laughed at his son's wide eyes and reddening face. The Chef laughed, drawing a heart with oil on the flat grill, “ah, young love,” he lit the oil causing a burst of flames leaving you in awe, squeezing and shaking Sukuna’s hand. He missed the entire show but was content with taking in your reactions.
It was true and he hadn’t realised it, he was in love with you and he couldn’t deny it.
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(On a side note, I went to early birthday lunch and I dressed up and a lady literally got a glimpse of me and snapped her head around and screamed across the room “OH MY GOD YOURE BEAUTIFUL!” And i felt so loved 🥰🥰 also go you wanna leave me a gift 🥹 here’s my PayPal (my cash app didn’t wanna link) but it’s not obligatory or anything, I’ll probably take them down later because it makes me feel funny. Someone sent me a dollar and I love that virtual dollar sm it makes me smile lol)
Tag: @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille
@sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks
@bofadeezs @shytastemakerthing
🤍🥳
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blackhairedjjun · 3 days
Text
second chance encounters
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pairing: choi yeonjun x gn!reader | genre / tropes: slight fluff, acquaintances to ???, university -> working adult au, nostalgia & slice of life vibes | word count: 3.6k | warnings: alcohol, some profanity, work-related burnout
summary: it's been a year since you graduated from university, and it always seemed like life had different plans for you and for the resident dance crew heartthrob, choi yeonjun. that is, until you run into him by chance after work.
author's notes: hello! this is one part of a fic idea that has been stirring in my brain for the LONGEST time - i wanted a very slice of life fic about adult life and growing up, and for the longest time i tried over and over to write it. but it was hard especially since it involved such personal feelings and experiences and i wanted to capture it just right. but i managed to get this part out, and once i'm less busy i want to try writing a part 2 too. so here it is, i hope you enjoy!
(support by reblogging banner by @/cafekitsune)
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It was nearly midnight when you were finally let go from overtime duties at your job. You walked out of your building and, exhausted from staying up for so long, you plopped down on the curb in front of the entrance. At this hour you should try to get a cab home, but you wanted a moment to rest and regain your bearings first.
Despite the late hour, it wasn’t too dark outside; the streetlamps illuminated the sidewalks, and plenty of other office buildings still had windows with the lights on. Next to your building, a 24-hour convenience store was flooded in fluorescent lighting. Maybe you were lucky to have gotten out before midnight when plenty of others were still staying up. But with your eyelids drooping and your whole body feeling heavier than a slab of rock, calling yourself “lucky” felt like a stretch.
You spent the next few moments letting your attention drift, your eyes fluttering shut. You could still see the spreadsheets swimming in front of your vision, and you could still hear your boss’s voice urging you to keep up with the pace. “We won’t go easy on you just because you’re a junior. In fact, you should be working harder if you want to prove yourself.” 
Work harder... prove myself... The words were in your mind constantly, even when your body protested.
Your eyes snapped open for a moment and you spotted a tall man in a hoodie exiting the convenience store, plastic bag in hand, headed for a nearby parked car. Perhaps it was just your fatigue making you see things, but he looked familiar.
He turned his head in your direction and your eyes met. You watched his own eyes widen in recognition.
“Uh, excuse me一” he approached you, scratching his head, “did you perhaps go to...?”
He mentioned your university’s name.
You blinked and studied his face.
Of course. 
You had spoken to him only a handful of times before, but you still recognized the former captain of your university’s dance crew. Everyone at your major had known him.
“Choi Yeonjun...?”
Three years earlier
You swished around the beer in your plastic cup, watching the party scene unfold in front of you. The music blared from someone’s speakers, competing with the loud voices of your fellow university students shouting and laughing over each other, and tipsy students nearly stumbled into one another as they tried to reach the cooler for more drinks. All the while you leaned against the far wall of the common room, taking small sips of your beer, glancing around now and then for a sign of your roommate.
Still nowhere.
She’s probably playing a drinking game with one of her friends, you thought, or in another room making out with that guy from the dance crew. You sighed and drained the last of your beer, but made no move to refill it. The room was full of people you didn’t know or barely knew, their faces vaguely familiar from some common classes you shared with them, and you didn’t have the courage to talk to them. None of them paid you any notice either, instead staying close by the friends they already knew.
You had hoped that your roommate would at least be polite and introduce you to some friends you could stay with, but she had left your side as soon as you both entered the party. You sighed.
Just them a tall man in a baseball cap blocked your view.
He was clearly drunk, from the way his face was flushed red, and blinked a few times at you. You recognized him as a classmate from your literature elective, though you couldn’t remember his name.
“Do I... know you?” he slurred, blinking again. A small spark of hope rose in your chest.
“Yeah, we’re actually一”
He threw his head back and started laughing, nearly dropping the beer bottle he was holding. You tried to speak but he only laughed more. “Ah, what am I saying... who are you... hah...”
Your heart sank.
“Hey, you’re bother 一 you’re bothering them... that’s not nice...”
Another man appeared at your classmate’s side, nudging him. You could he that he was also tipsy from his pink-tinted cheeks and the way he stumbled over his words, but he seemed to have enough sense to stop his friend. He too looked familiar, but you weren’t not sure from where.
“I’m not boooothering,” your drunk classmate whined.
“Heh, okay you’re not... let’s just hang somewhere else...”
He squeezed his drunk friend’s shoulder, which seemed to divert his attention; he turned around to leave the room. The man then turned to look at you and you swore that he was properly looking, not just staring with his eyes glazed over from the alcohol.
“Hi...” He let out a little giggle. Cute. 
“Um... hi?”
“Sorry ‘bout that... we won’t bother you... have fun.”
“It’s okay...”
He stood there for a few moments, smiling at you. It was just a lopsided smile from tipsiness, but you couldn’t help the flutter you felt in your chest.
Then, as if awakened out of nowhere, he snapped to his senses. He waved at you, letting out a shy “bye!”, then turned around to follow his friend. You watched his back as he nearly stumbled over the couch and disappeared into a room at the side, and for the first time that night, you smiled.
It took a few moments, but you finally remembered why that man was so familiar: He was a prodigy member of the dance crew, the one that had won countless competitions against other dance crews from different universities. He was only a sophomore and already he was turning heads. Of all the members of that award-winning roster, he was said to be the best one.
His name, you recalled, was Choi Yeonjun.
You sat in the passenger seat of Yeonjun’s car with your hands folded on your lap. A jazz-pop playlist was playing from the car stereo, and you glanced over at your driver, who was humming along and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His posture was relaxed and he steered with one hand. As the song reached its final chorus, he broke out into full song, singing with such passion that his eyes and nose scrunched up.
Maybe it was a bad idea to accept a car ride from someone you barely knew, but it was certainly a better option than remaining seated and half-asleep on the curb in front of your office building. Besides, you had heard nothing but good things about Yeonjun during your stay in university. You had been classmates with a few dance crew members and they always spoke of him with a tone of admiration.
The song came to an end just as the car stopped at a red light. At this hour, there were hardly any cars on the intersection. Yeonjun turned towards you and smiled.
“I haven’t seen you in ages,” he said.
“Me too.” You fought your tiredness to manage a smile.
“It’s so good to see a familiar face. I just moved here a few weeks ago.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He tilted his head at you and licked his lips, thinking of what to say. “I actually got back from visiting my parents... I had to pick up some of my stuff there to move to my new studio. Then I ended up having dinner with them, walking around, catching up, and well... I was hoping to be home by ten.” 
Your tired smile turned genuine at his story. “That sounds really nice, though. I visited my parents last month, so I get what you mean.”
“Mm, I miss them already.” The traffic light turned green and Yeonjun turned to face the road again; the car cruised past the buildings of the business district, the lights in some of their windows still on. “Hey, how long have you lived here?”
“Less than a year ago, I guess? Pretty much right after graduation. I got a good job offer so I moved here so that the commute would be a bit easier.”
“Yeah, that makes sense... hold on, the building I found you at...”
“Uh-huh?”
“You work at StarOne?”
You sighed. When you had first gotten the job offer, everyone around you had oohed and aahed, throwing compliments and congratulations your way 一 you had gotten a job at one of the biggest, most prestigious companies in the country. You had blushed and beamed at them and replied with Thank you and Oh my god, I’m so excited too. But it hadn’t even been a year since then, and now all you knew were hours of overtime and unhappy clients, rush projects and evaluations where your boss and his boss peeled back your pride layer by layer. You’re doing good, but we didn’t hire you for ‘good’, they would say. We’ve got dozens of other junior officers and even more applicants standing outside our doors, clamoring for the job that you have.
You took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the canned responses you had developed when asked about your job: Yes, I work at StarOne. The pay is fine. The hours are pretty long, I guess. It’s challenging. But at least I work at a good company.
But instead the car reached another red light and Yeonjun turned to look at you and his eyes softened, as if he had seen the exasperation you so often hid. “Oh... overtime?”
You nodded.
“Ah, sorry. You’re probably too tired to talk about work, huh?”
You nodded again.
He blushed and turned away for a moment. Then he reached to the passenger seat behind him, picked up a thick dark blue blanket, and handed it to you. “Ah, my bad, I shouldn’t have asked... Do you want to rest for a bit? You can sleep for the rest of the ride if you want. Don’t worry, the blanket’s clean.”
Your memory stirred and brought forth a moment three years ago, when you had first run into Yeonjun at a party. In your mind you saw the way he had squeezed your old classmate’s shoulder, keeping him from bothering you too much, and the way he had looked at you right after. You remembered feeling seen, as if he regarded you as an old friend.
The way Yeonjun looked at you now, blanket in hand, felt exactly the same.
“Oh... you didn’t have to.”
“Keep it in case you get sleepy.”
You took the blanket from him, his fingertips brushing yours as he handed it over, and unfolded it on your lap. When you looked back at him you couldn’t help the small smile forming on your lips.
“Thank you.”
He made sure to drive a little more slowly after that, but you could still hear him softly humming along to the songs on his playlist. The sound of his voice wrapped around you even more comfortably than the blanket. 
You closed your eyes to let your mind wander. Sleep didn’t come to you, but new thoughts did 一 thoughts of Yeonjun and what you had known about him from university. Though you had barely spoken to him, your social circles did overlap somewhat; you had been classmates with a few dance crew members, and a few of his friends had been in the same major as you. Every time his name was brought up, it was always in a positive light, whether it was him helping out a new dance recruit or inspiring the rest of the dance crew to work harder. Not once had you heard anyone speak ill of him.
Now you understood why.
Two years earlier
You watched the rain from the entrance of the campus arts building, its extended roof keeping you and several other students dry. Today the downpour was much better compared to previous days 一 you could actually see ahead of you, for one 一 but it was still bad enough that the endless drumming of the rain on rooftops filled your ears, and the pathway leading out of the building was a blur.
Still, you had a class in ten minutes and Professor Im had not made any announcement of cancellation. The sciences building was a short walk away but you needed all the time you could to get there and dry yourself off. Sighing, you fished your umbrella out of your bag and silently thanked your past self for remembering to pack it this time. With the push of a button (good thing you got one of those automatic ones) the umbrella opened, you held it up, and you hugged your bag more closely around your body to keep it dry. Here you go.
You had barely taken two steps out of the building when someone bumped against your side. Your umbrella shook, causing a few rain droplets to land on your head, but you barely felt them. Not while you were too busy staring in horror at the student who had bumped into you and was now running through the rain, not caring that they were getting soaked to the bone.
“HEY!”
You chased after them, your umbrella swaying as you ran through the pathway, shouting at the student to wait. You were no match for their pace 一 you could see that they had long legs 一 but they finally heard your shouts, slowed down, and turned to look at you.
Oh. Choi Yeonjun.
His hair was wet, with his bangs clinging to his forehead, and his hoodie was so drenched that it had turned from light grey to dark. He was still panting from his sprint and the dampness on his face was a mixture of rainfall and sweat.
You felt your face grow hot. Somehow offering to share an umbrella with someone you kind of knew was more embarrassing than doing it with a total stranger. But you were already here anyway and it seemed rude not to say anything.
“Uh, we can... share...”
You held the umbrella up above your head to accommodate his height and he laughed.
“You don’t have to,” he said. “I’m headed to the gym for dance practice, it might be too far.”
“It’s okay! I’ll take you!”
That was a lie. The gym was in the opposite direction from the science building. But you had perfect attendance in class so far, so you figured that one late mark wasn’t too much of a cost.
Yeonjun giggled and took the umbrella from you. His hands were soft as they brushed against yours. Your whole body felt warm despite the chill from the rain. “I’ll hold it for us then,” he said.
You smiled and moved closer to him. “Thank you.”
“Nah, I should be thanking you. Coach would’ve embarrassed me in front of the whole team for being late. And I told the new members last week not to be late! I would’ve looked like a dummy in front of them.”
He laughed again and you couldn’t help but laugh too. His walking pace was brisk but you didn’t mind, keeping up with him and listening to him talk about his dance practice. A whole other world within the university campus seemed to open up in front of you, one of competitions and prizes and prestige and a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. Yet there was an unmistakable gleam in Yeonjun’s eyes as he talked about the team’s new routine and the higher challenge level for it.
“We’ve only got a week left so we really can’t waste any time,” he said. “So... thank you. This helps a lot, really.”
The two of you were standing in front of the gym entrance. The rain had died down to a drizzle, and he lowered your umbrella. The walk from the arts building had felt like both an eternity and a moment.
You took the umbrella from him and his hands lingered on the handle before he let go.
“See you around,” he said. “Good luck with class.”
“Yeah, see you... good luck with practice.”
Yeonjun turned and sprinted into the gym, and you headed back to find the path to the science building. Not a single worry about being late bothered you, and you couldn’t help yourself from smiling.
Yeonjun’s GPS led him to a boxy apartment building. It was painted completely white, reflecting the light of a nearby streetlamp, which gave it a sterile glow. He pursed his lips; not the most homey place to live, he mused, but at least it looked well-kept.
He turned to you and found you asleep in the passenger seat, his blanked draped over your shoulders. Your chest rose and fell ever so slightly from your breaths, and your expression was completely calm. There was no trace of the undertones of stress he’d sensed when he had approached you; whatever worries you had about your job seemed to disappear in your dreams. 
Yeonjun lifted a hand to tap your shoulder awake, but he hesitated. A wave of relief overcame him, and for a moment he couldn’t help but admire your serene expression as you slept. You looked so... content. Had he ever seen you look that way? While he had crossed paths with you only a few times, you had always looked as if something was on your mind. He could still see it all in his memories: the loneliness in your posture when he approached you at the party, the nervousness in your eyes when you had offered your umbrella to him. He wondered what worries were always plaguing you, and if anything could be done to keep them away.
At least he had returned the favor for the umbrella incident, he thought. And it only took him two years.
His hand was still hovering over your shoulder when you awoke. You blinked a few times to chase the sleepiness away before turning your head to look at him. A small smile spread across your face and Yeonjun felt a flutter stirring in his chest.
“Are we home...?” Your voice was still hoarse with sleep.
“Just got here.” He smiled. “I can walk you to your door...”
“Mm, okay...”
Your apartment door wasn’t far up, only on the third floor. You had his blanket draped around you like a scarf, and Yeonjun carried your bag for you. He set it down beside your door, its black paint finish contrasting with the white walls, and waited for you to unlock it.
It was only when you pushed the door open that you noticed his blanket around your shoulders. You tugged it off and handed it to him.
“Oh, sorry, I forgot一”
“Keep it.” Then, feeling a little bold, he continued: “You can give it to me the next time we see each other.”
“Next time...?”
His smile faltered. Did you not want to see him again? Was he being too forward? Did he overestimate how much you remembered him? Why did he feel so keen on seeing you again in the first place?
“You don’t 一 you don’t have to.” He reached a hand to take the blanket. “Sorry, I was, I was just...”
But you regained your senses from your nap and beamed at him. The sight of it sent another fluttering feeling through Yeonjun’s chest.
“No, I mean... I was just surprised that you’d want to catch up, that’s all.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I... um. I do want to catch up with you, Yeonjun.”
“Great! Oh shit一” He clasped his hands over his mouth. His voice had come out a little too loud. “I mean, let’s work something out. I can give you my number...”
You had been lying in bed for fifteen minutes and you were still awake. You should be trying to sleep for another day of overtime tomorrow, but all you could think about was your drive home with Yeonjun.
You reached for your phone on your nightstand and looked at his contact for the fourth or fifth time since you’d shut the door behind you. He had saved his contact name as “jjunie” with a little fox next to it, and the sight of it made you chuckle.
Did this really happen? You thought of the few times you had run into each other, seemingly at random: his cute little “bye” as he clutched a beer, or his damp hair sticking to his forehead as he held onto your umbrella. His life felt tangential to yours, always passing by you, but never with you. And yet you were holding on to your phone with his number in it and an offer to see each other again.
You laughed again and set the phone down on the bed, on top of the blanket that he had lent you, and rolled to your side. It didn’t matter now, you mused. Old memories gave way to newer ones: his smile as he opened the passenger side of his car for you, his humming to a jazz tune as he waited at the intersection, his soft hands placing the blanket in yours. 
No matter how things had been back then, they were different now. Yeonjun would stick around in your life for a little while. You might even have a friend, and the thought consoled you as you finally drifted off to sleep.
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changisworld · 2 days
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Hii, I've got a request in mind, thinking about Hannie but ain't not sure if it fits Seungmin too (that "honey can you bring my towel" scene he acted at that tv show lives rent free in my mind), so it's a first time thing + shy reader + he puts her hand on his hard on (Idk I feel like they give such a sneaky vibe, in a moment you're laughing with him and the next you're underneath him). Steamy make out, dry humping, handjob, whatever you feel more fitting, just pls don't let poor bb with them blue balls 👀
Little note: can I be 🍦 anon? ❤
MY BABY 🍦im so sorry its taken almost 3 months to write this:( better late than never though! i hope it was semi worth the wait<3
i had no idea what you were referring to so i had to go on tiktok n find it n i THINK i know what youre talking about!
Word count;2,760
18+, MDNI SMUT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT
©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.
main masterlist here.
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SMUT WARNINGS: PIV, whiny hannie, handjob, fingering(f rec), spit, creampie, dry humping, teasing, hannie & y/n are both subby?, slightly nervous hannie, tit play, slight mommy kink
You're currently sitting on your new boyfriend, Han jisungs bed while he showers in his small bathroom connecting to his bedroom & you're just scrolling through tiktok as he belts out whatever song that's playing from his phone without a care in the world.
You've been dating Jisung for around 3 months but you both have agreed that you can both see it going long term, much to both of your happiness!
You've warmed up to Jisung a whole bunch, being a whole lot more shy before meeting him & he was just as much as a nervous person as you are, but you've both brought out the best in one another. But, because you're both a bit more reserved, you've been a bit too scared to make the first move. You've kissed countless times & he has slipped a finger in once or twice, but nothing else past that, him not wanting to push any more boundaries.
You're just watching some of those true crime tiktoks, sprawled out on top of the messy, unmade bedsheets, not realising the shower had turned off until you hearing Jisung kissing his own teeth & groaning.
"Y/nnie? Can you go into my closet n gimme a towel, I've forgotten mine!" Han yells through the door, dragging out the last syllable & you just hum in response before dragging yourself to where he stores his clothes, towels & blankets & grabbing the first one you see.
"Open the door then Sungie!" you cheer, fingers fidgeting with the material. Jisung slowly opens the door & pokes his head out, not wanting to show anything non PG, he pinches the towel out of your hand but doesn't bother to fully close the door over again as he tries to tie it around his waist before awkwardly chuckling.
"Y/nnie, uh, I usually just.. air dry? after showering & I genuinely have no idea how to tie it like how girls do! If you... don't mind could you tie it for me? Or you can just bring me some sweatpants n I can change in here!" He splurges out, almost being able to hear his heartbeat through the door separating you both.
"You'll just stay damp in there since the steam is hitting me in the face, yeah I can.. I can tie it for you." you reply, trying to sound confident. You give him the time to hold the towel around him & you slowly push open the door, the smell of the shampoo & body wash he used still strong in the air.
You give him a smile & a small giggle, which he gladly mirrors & you take the top part of the towel & tightening it before tucking it in, making it stay put without the need to hold it with his hands anymore.
As you do this though, you realise the towel is a bit of an odd size, it being a bit small despite it being wrapped around his tiny waist, showing off his growing bulge through the tight DIY now skirt he is wearing & you can't help but blush.
"Oi! Don't look! I said I don't use towels I didn't realise they're a horrible size!" as he covers the growing tent under the towel, his chubby cheeks going red as his big eyes look at you & you just laugh but your eyes can't stop trailing down to his now fidgeting hands.
"You're so dramatic Sungie, It's hot in a way, you're so unaware it's funny." You giggle, your fingers pinching his cheeks & he blushes even more before his hands move from where they were perched to swat your fingers away, but as he does so, his towel of course begins to slip & you both realise at the same time, your hands & his hands racing to stop it from falling.
Your hands reach the towel first & you grab it & his hands cup over yours & you both realise instantly, you're cupping over his now even more hardening cock, his own hands keeping you there.
You both look up at your hands at the same time then back up at each other, both of your eyes wide open. He quickly removes his hands from yours, but to both of your surprise, you don't move your hands away.
"Y/nnie, you gonna move your hands or what?" he questions, his voice full of shock. You snap back into reality when he says this & your hands whip away from him, holding them up to your chest.
"I'm sorry! I didn't know you wouldn't lik-" you rush out. "hey hey hey! I didn't not like it, I liked it as much as any other guy would! I just didn't think you would be so bold or ballsy I guess?!" he cuts you off, using one hand to hold the towel around his waist as he is waving the other hand around, trying to get his point across.
You blush at what he says & you pause for a moment, but when you can't really think of a verbal response, you give a physical one instead, & you move your hand to lightly cup him again which makes his hips twitch as he looks at you, his jaw slightly open.
You move your hand slightly, getting a bit of a better feel & he instantly gets harder under your touch & he stutters & you just giggle again at him, looking at his features, watching for the reaction he's giving.
"Is this alright, Sungie?" you ask as you take the extra mini step & lean in to his neck & give it a quick peck before looking into his eyes, smiling at his pretty face. "Y-yeah, can we not do this in the bathroom though? ruins the mood, unless you wanna get back in the shower with me?" he jokes, trying to sound confident despite him absolutely freaking out inside.
You nod your head & take his hand & you both walk back into the bedroom & you straddle him once the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, him flopping down. "Can I.. remove this? We don't need to though, Hannie." you murmur out, cupping his cheeks.
"Mhmm, please, please please." he pleads before he pushes on the back of your head & he kisses you, his tongue not taking long to begin poking into your own. At the same time, you raise your hips just enough so you can paw the towel away, now leaving him bare beneath you, which makes you think your heart is going to come out of your mouth.
You slowly grind over his cock with your covered core in a slow motion as you deepen the kiss, Jisung letting out a small groan at the contact & his hips buck up when you allow a shaky hand to wrap around his already somehow leaky cock & you begin jerking it at a good pace, his lips involuntarily breaking away from yours for a second, drool completely coating his lips & chin by this point.
"This okay f'you?" you tease, his reactions already giving away the fact that it's more than okay, he just lets out another small whine before moving his head up enough to kiss you again, his hips bucking up into your hand & his precum coating parts of your hand, his tip completely shiny.
You grind down on his upper thighs as you jerk him off, your own little pants swapping between your lips as you get a bit, but no way near enough friction for you to fully get off on.
Hans breathing begins to speed up & become slightly erratic & he moves his fingers from the back of your hair & he rests them on your hips, helping you grind, but not long after, he is fiddling with the waistband & you take the hint, you break your lips from his & take the few seconds to wiggle off your pants, leaving you in your plain cotton panties & Jisungs shirt you stole.
Hi big boba eyes, completely blown out, stare up at you in awe & he sits up, his face level with your covered tits. "Can I take this off too, y/nnie?" he asks & the second you give the okay, he gets rid of it before you have the time to blink, letting out a strained grunt at the fact you aren't wearing a bra.
Once you're left in just your underwear, Jisung flips you over so he is between your legs, leaning over you & he basically has his eyes glued to your now pebbled nipples & he has to bite his lip to avoid drooling all over them & you giggle at his reaction, your cheeks going red with a mix of nerves, slight embarrassment from his eyes burning into you & also love.
Jisung makes his way down slightly so he is level with your chest & he simply admires your tits as his left hand now rests on your inner thigh, thumb caressing it.
"Can I touch you, jagi? We don't need to go any further." he asks for reassurance. "Hannie, stop asking, I'm dying for it, please." you respond, your hips jerking up to convince him. He blushes more than he already is & he lets his fingers trail onto your covered core as he runs his finger up & down your slit, making you bite your lip, trying to not moan too loudly.
"Don't silence yourself jagi, don't be nervous, it's just me." he says in a sweet tone as his fingers move your underwear to the side, happy with himself with the wet spot he caused on the fabric.
His fingers begin spreading your wetness on your slit, making sure to prolong an extra few seconds of attention on your clit before he enters one finger into your dripping hole, a small squelch noise being made from it & your back slightly arching off the bed, Jisung not being able to hold back the smirk now spreading across his lips as he lets his lips latch onto your nipple.
"O-oh shit! Sungie, right there." you whimper, your fingers weaving into his hair as you spread your legs a bit more & wiggling your hips, trying to get his finger impossibly deeper.
He decides to add a second finger as he finds your G-spot & your breath hitches in your throat & your eyes scrunch shut, pulling his hair, him moaning into your tit along with you.
You feel your orgasm beginning to build up as you can both feel yourself clenching around his now two fingers. "Sungie, lie down, wanna cum with you." you whimper, trying your hardest to concentrate enough to speak an actual sentence.
Jisung unlatches himself from your tit & pulls his now soaked fingers out of your cunt, much to his displeasure. He crawls his way to the top of the bed & rests his head on the pillows & you are quick to follow behind him, straddling him again before leaning down to kiss him.
"Can I put it inside? Wanna feel you." He pleads, glossy eyes looking up at you as his hands are resting on your waist. "What's the magic word?" you decide to tease, your fingers reaching down to fondle his balls, making his eyebrows furrow & another bead of precum dripping down his cock.
"Pleaseee, mommy please, please let me." he begs, not being able to stop his ears going bright red as his fingers move their way to your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands as his hips keep buck up into you.
You are caught slightly by surprise by the 'mommy' part of the sentence, but you also know it's exactly something he & now also you're into.
You decide to not let him wait any longer as you're also itching for him to fill you up, your wetness leaving a small slick patch of where you were straddling as you raise your hips & Jisung grabs his pretty dick & runs it over your folds, making you jolt, before aligning himself up with your hole & you begin to slide him inside.
You sink down until you can't anymore & you both hiss at the feeling, him already resting against your spongey spot & the warmth of you wrapped around him making his mind spill.
You raise your hips slightly & then sink back down, setting a slow but pleasurable pace as small moans begin escaping your lips, jisungs eyes completely stuck to you, simply admiring you.
Drool escapes his lips & dribbles down the side of his cheek, his tongue poking out his jaw dropped mouth ever so often as you both share moans.
"Yo-you're so tight jagi, mind is n-oh m, fuck." Jisung babbles, his hands helping your thrusts by moving your ass up & down as his hips jerk up to also meet you in the middle, making you squeal.
You place your hands on his shoulders as you begin to quicken your pace, trying your best to ignore the stinging pain in your thighs as you do so.
Jisung sits himself up against the headboard, making sure to not slip out of you as he settle you both in the similar but different position. You begin grinding on his cock & slowly bouncing as Jisung reaches to begin suckling on your nipple again as his fingers begin to fondle your other tit, making you moan.
"Y-you're filling me so well, Sungie" you whimper as your motions find the best spot where his cock can reach & picking up your speed.
Jisung lets out a loud 'uumph' as his tip hits into your soft spot, making your belly go hot inside, but he can feel your speed slowing. Jisung unlatches from your now spit covered nipple & blows some cold air on it before he repositions you both, helping you lay on your stomach & you lift your hips so your ass is in the air for him, which makes him groan.
"Sungie, put it back in, wanna make you cum." you implore, wiggling your ass in front of him to convince him, which works as he swallows a choked moan before lining himself back up with your sopping cunt & sliding back in.
You both let out a moan in unison as Jisung begins to pick up his pace, trying his best to not throw his head back from the new position & angle, looking down at the way your ass ripples every time his hips hit against it & he can feel his orgasm building up instantly.
You both keep babbling, mostly to yourselves, his pace just right so you can't stop clenching, your knuckles turning white from gripping the bedsheets, your cheek pressed against the bed.
"S-sung- I'm gonna c-cum." you yelp, eyes rolling to the back of your head, Jisungs cock got a white ring against the base of his cock, being able to quite literally hear the wetness coming from between your legs.
"S-me too, clenching t-too much, w-wher-" "Inside, inside Hannie." you are quick to cut him off, rushing the words out just in time before your orgasm bubbles over, your legs getting weak & if it wasn't for Jisung holding onto your hips. As soon as your cunt begins to spasm around him, his own release hits him & his cum paints the inside of your walls white, basically squealing as the pleasure washes over him, his bottom lip all puffy from how much he has been biting it.
He pulls out & slowly helps you lay down fully on your stomach before he lets himself flop down too, straddling your ass & his face level with yours.
You both stay like this, him turning his head slightly to kiss your earlobe, his fingers moving the hair out of your face.
"You wanna get back in the shower then?" you murmur, getting your breath back, chuckling.
"I wouldn't mind that, we are sticking to each other, but I wouldn't mind staying like this." he hums back, smiling to mostly himself as he shuts his eyes, inhaling the smell of your skin, your perfume still a bit faint on your skin after all this time.
"n a mommy kink, Sungie? Who woulda thought." you tease, giggling. "Hey! if you liked it then who cares, its hot." he replies, him trying to hide the slight fluster in his voice.
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