#so can we close the space between us now it’s a distance we don’t need
it’s because if they get within touching distance unsupervised they will snap together like magnets
and that would be disruptive to their ability to function anymore
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HELLOO can u * please * write how would xiao, albedo and childe if you sat ln their lap and they get a boner? hehe thank u <33
^ I have this obsession with being Albedo’s research partner - like … let’s love science together you sexy, stoic mystery seeker
I also really dig commanding Xiao - like, be strict with me while you touch me with so much need it’s unbelievable ---
Warning -> (18+, mature) NOTSFW* (touching***, a little public display of affection, cussing, and some other stuff)
Character X GN Reader | Anthology
Includes: Xiao, Albedo, Childe
Closeness like this doesn’t come easy to Xiao. He much prefers when people keep their distance and not try to push their way into his space - though, you never backed down, and while he may have been annoyed on the outside, he was impressed on the inside
The first time you sat on his lap it was more of an accident than anything else. You were reaching for something and toppled back into him, the force of your collision sending you both into the nearest chair. He didn’t know what to think at first, but he found your presence, comforting?
He most likely wouldn’t ask for you to sit on his lap - instead, you’d need to claim the space yourself or wait for him to keep particularly touched starved
It didn’t matter when you showed up to meet Xiao, he was bound to be exactly where you needed him to be. Even as the days slipped by and your tasks kept you busy, you knew he would be there when you finally found time to visit him.
Walking up the flight of stairs to the tallest balcony of the inn, you found him sitting, gazing out across the dormant topography, his back to you.
You hadn’t even made it up the final step when he spoke, “You’re late.”
“I know. I kept getting held up.” You crossed the space and came to a stop next to him, but he doesn’t acknowledge you more than his initial statement. The wind blows his hair and your eyes drift down to his neck, your fingers quick to follow. As you stroke the space under his ear you look out over the balcony and breathe in the altitude. It’s fresh and sweet, Smiley must be making something delicious down below.
Xiao’s hand drifts up to your fingers and he intertwines them for a moment before gently pushing them back to you. “You could have called on me. I’m sure I could have solved your little problem in half the time.”
You laugh, “Maybe, but I had to deal with problems which required the pen, not the sword.” Your hand drops back to your side and finds its way to your shirt. Xiao huffs at your comment and folds his arms across his chest. “Are you hungry? I can smell something delicious and I can bring something back up.”
You turn and begin to head down the steps when Xiao’s arms wrap around your waist and pull you backward. A shocked exclamation flies from your mouth as your feet shuffle against the floor and come to a rest near his, your back crashing against his chest.
“Um?” Your hands hover over the arms gripped tightly around your stomach. This behavior of his was pretty unusual. He only reacted like this when something was bothering him. “Did something happen?” You ask, moving your hands to rest on his arms.
“No.” His breath is hot on your back and you shift on his lap.
“Did you miss me?”
“... no.” You feel his lips against your neck and your fingers grip tightly around his bare skin. He pulls you in closer and you're practically a part of him, your bodies are so close. His nose brushes against your ear and the feeling makes you hum.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” You whisper and rest your head against his shoulder. His hands are possessive and greedy, and you start to feel something hard press against you. It’s growing fast and it’s such a powerful reminder of how lucky you were to be in his arms. Of how you were the only beings in this life that could break through the wall which surrounded him, and his intensifying desire for you filled your head with pride.
With heavy eyes you turn your head to him, when you see his expression it steals the air from your lungs. His eyes are taunting you, daring you to make a comment about this vulnerable reaction of his, threatening you to speak a word from the mouth he can’t keep his eyes off of. You lean in and leave a soft peck on his lips, pulling away only just so you can survey the green pool of his eyes.
“Don’t do it again.” He warns, sliding one of his hands down to your crotch and the other to the back of your head, his fingers fanning themselves in your hair and pushing you back in for more.
The first time you sat in his lap he was pleasantly surprised by how much he enjoyed it. He found your weight to be comforting and the closeness of you rejuvenating
In this way, he could be intimate with you while still being productive. If you sat facing away from him, you could both look over research together, if you sat toward him and rested your head on his shoulder while you took a quick power nap, he could continue working or painting even with you on him
Most of the time it wasn’t a problem, but today, he was having a hard time keeping himself calm as you jostled on his lap
“Look at this!” You exclaimed, reaching forward for one of the loose sheets of paper scattered across the counter. Offering the paper to Albedo, you leaned so he could see and pressed your upper back against his shoulder. “I knew I recognized these results. Look,” you pointed at the notes which had been written by one of the other alchemists, “we saw the same thing happen yesterday. The conditions were different, but see, they are the same!” You turned your head to look at him and had a huge smile on your face.
“Hmm, how inquisitive. These two opposing environments still brought the same outcome.”
“Right, I wouldn’t have expected this.” You lean forward and start to take notes in your notebook. You shift and stretch in order to stay positioned on Albedo’s lap and the movement of your ass against him sends pleasant shockwaves to the growing problem between his legs. There is an abnormal push against your thigh and you adjust again in order to alleviate the sensation. When, suddenly, you feel his hands grip around your waist and his head drop against your back, you lean up to see what’s wrong.
“Y/N, stop moving.” His voice has dropped into a breathy timbre and you freeze. His hips begin to move against you and when you feel the same pressure against your leg you realize what was happening.
You look around and can’t help but get embarrassed, there are still people working and while most of them are hyper-focused on their research it didn’t mean they couldn’t notice. The likelihood of that happening increased by the minutes, because the situation was turning into a bigger problem the longer you sat on him.
“Uh, let me get up.” You whisper and begin to lift yourself from his lap. When you are inches from him, his hands dig into your waist and he pulls you back, making you fall directly onto him. A small gasp escapes your lips and you grasp onto the edge of the counter.
“Stay here, I can calm back down.” He’s husky, and even as he says the words his face digs into your shoulder and one of his hands slips over your inner thigh. Your heart is racing and the need, which is tightly constricting in your stomach, is getting harder and harder to ignore.
“I can get up…” You try again but he tightens his hold on you.
You feel him pressing, flexing against the eager space between your legs. His hands begin to wander over your body, his hips push against you, and the way he breaths against your back is sinful.
Shit, shit. You curse in your head and through the haziness of your mind try to come up with a solution. Leaning to your side, you reach one of the easels which have documents and other items plastered to them. This action elicits a moan from Albedo and sets your face on fire. No amount of shielding can protect the two of you, it was hopeless to think that would work.
“Y/N.” He calls out your name and it sends shivers across your body, like electricity right before a strike of lightning. His hand slips closer to the place begging for his touch.
In a last ditch, desperate attempt you grab one of the small glass containers in front of you and throw it into an empty corner. It shatters and causes a startled cry from one of the research assistants.
“Did you see that?” // “What just happened?” // “Something fall?” Their voices combine and begin to congregate in the corner.
You don’t miss this opportunity. With everyone's eyes diverted, you stand up, grab Albedo’s wrist and rush him through the door. When you are in the safety of his office and the door closes you let out a sigh.
“I’ll pay the knights back fo…”
Your words are cut off, the use of your mouth replaced by Albedo’s tongue.
He loves having you in his lap - he loves having you close to him, to wrap his arms around you, to rest his head against your shoulders - it’s so comforting to him to have something to hold onto
Even if he doesn’t mean to get excited he can’t help himself - it’s just, the pressure of you on his lap, the way your ass feels ...
If you don’t stop moving, he might have to teach you a lesson about being still
“Are you trying to turn me on?” His head rested on your shoulder, his chin pulling you back into his broad chest and hands holding onto your arms.
“I … I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Turning your head away from his face you try to hide the flush which has slowly covered your skin. It’s reached all the way down to your chest and you're sure it’s so bright people might think you got too much sun.
You had been sitting on Childe’s lap for a while now. He pulled you there some time ago and hasn’t let you go since. In fact, he seemed to be having a great time teasing you and forcing you to feel how hard he was, ‘all because of you’ as he had mentioned only a few minutes earlier. He liked to move you himself. Lifting you up slightly on his lap before resting you back onto him again or pushing you forward with his hips just so he could slide you back, over and over.
You tried to stay calm, taking in deep, slow breaths through your nose and out your mouth. He wasn’t going to win, he wasn’t going to triumph over this interaction he orchestrated all on his own, if you were going to suffer you were determined to take him with you.
Moving one of your hands in between your legs you slipped between the two of your bodies until you found the tip of his dick. You wrapped your fingers around it the best you could and relished in the reaction from the man sitting under you. His hand snaked around your wrist and pulled it away from his throbbing cock and over your shoulder, his lips connecting with the back of your hand.
“What is this naughty hand doing, hmm?” The sensation of his tongue sliding over your fingers forced a whine from your throat. His mouth engulfed your index finger and the combination of his tongue and teeth sliding over it caused you to shift against him, pressing into him as much as you could in this position.
It always shocked you how commanding he could be when the two of you were being intimate. There was such a stark difference between his public, friendly demeanor and his private, dominating one. You were never sure just which Childe you would get, but there was something about both of his personalities which set your body on fire and turned your brain to mush.
“Childe.” You whimper. Your hips, your spine, your legs, your neck all shifting against him in a desperate attempt to alleviate the pent up desire growing in your stomach.
“Keep calling my name, Y/N.” He released your hand and chuckled at how it stayed there, unmoving and glistening in his spit. He wrapped one of his arms around your chest and dug his nails into your collarbone, his other hand slid down to your thigh and pulled you closer to him. “If you’re good, I’ll give you what you want.”
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forgetting their s/o’s birthday :(
w/ atsumu, suna, and ushijima!
series masterlist here!
(a/n: as always, a ton of characters were requested, so i’ll be making more posts with them :))
thank you all for requesting☺️ i hope this piece isn’t disappointing or anything; feel free to leave feedback!! anyway, this is written in the timeskip, so just keep that in mind while reading💞love you all!)
you were so proud of your boyfriend :’)
he was doing so well in his career and he seemed to be having so much fun
you really were happy for him
but his career meant that he wouldn’t see you all that often and was often preoccupied
some days went by and all you wanted to do was stay in bed with him and cuddle, but he couldn’t
you just miss him a lot
but with your birthday coming up, you’re excited
not for your birthday in particular, but because you’ll get to spend some quality time with atsumu💞
when you wake up, the sun is shining and you feel well-rested and content.
you sigh happily and reach over to the other side of the bed, only to find it cold and out of use. you sit up to investigate and discover that atsumu is gone.
you sigh again, this time a little disappointed. he must’ve gone to work, you think. you get up.
while you’re making breakfast for yourself, you check your phone. you have a couple messages from some of your friends and family, to which you respond to, but none from your boyfriend. even as you refresh your inbox, nothing comes up.
he’s probably busy, you remind yourself. you finish cooking and sit down to eat, alone.
today seems like a good day to just relax and let yourself breathe for a moment. you lounge around on the couch and watch some movies and take a nice, warm bubble bath. you waste the day away as you wait around for atsumu to come home, hoping maybe the two of you can go out for dinner tonight!
when he finally comes home, he lets out a tired groan and sits down on the couch after kissing you quickly on the cheek.
“i’m starving, babe. what’s for dinner?” he asks you, eyes closed.
you stand in front of him. “well, i actually didn’t make dinner tonight,” you respond. he opens his eyes and furrows his brows at you.
“...i thought i told you that i needed you to make dinner tonight,” he notes. “i texted you earlier.”
confused at his apparent annoyance, you try again. “well, i was hoping we could go out tonight. it’s been a long time since we ever—”
“y/n, i’m tired, okay? i had a long day and you’re not helping at all. i mean, you don’t make dinner, and now you’re asking me for more when it’s clear that i don’t have the energy,” he argues, irritated. you step back.
did he...? you ask yourself. there’s no way...
but now he’s just ignoring you, and it finally sinks in. he forgot.
you sigh sadly and retreat into your bedroom, hoping to just call it a night. you don’t want to spend your birthday arguing with your boyfriend.
atsumu gets up and walks into the kitchen, looking for a quick dinner. he opens the pantry to see new products that you must have gotten from the store. he looks over them, eye catching on a box of chocolate pocky.
the snack reminds him of a happy memory he shared with you just last year. it was your birthday, and he took you on a picnic and you shared the box, fighting over who got the last one, and instead just breaking it in half and having to share it.
atsumu thinks back to that day fondly, grinning softly at the memory. maybe this year we can do it again, he jokes to himself. and then he pauses.
he pulls out his phone frantically and swipes open the calendar, flipping to the correct month and staring at it obsessively.
and there it is; the reminder he set for your birthday, adorned with emojis and bolded brightly. his heart stops.
his eyes grow wide and he puts his phone down, panic slowly rising in his gut and making it hard to breathe.
“how could i have...” he whispers to himself.
then atsumu remembers how you asked him to go out with you to dinner and all he did was berate you for not being good enough. the way you seemed dejected as you took his words and left, leaving him alone in his head. he’s supposed to be your boyfriend, and he couldn’t even remember your birthday. he’s just been neglecting you.
desperate to make things right, he bursts into the bedroom to see you getting into bed. at his presence, your shoulders droop, and you sigh.
“‘tsumu, i don’t wanna fight, okay?” you ask, exhausted. his heart sinks even further. that’s what you think he wants to do?
he approaches you guiltily, and you look up at him, confused. he stares at you for a second before pulling you up by your hands and wrapping his arms around you ever so tightly.
you exhale, his touch so comforting that you just want to melt. it’s been so long since he held you.
“i’m so sorry,” he mutters, voice shaky with honesty. “i’m sorry that i missed your birthday and i’m sorry that i haven’t been a boyfriend and that you’ve been alone and i haven’t even realized.”
you freeze, astounded.
your eyes begin to fill up with tears and you dig your face into his chest to hide them away.
“i know i don’t deserve it, but please forgive me? i just wanna make it up to you, ‘kay?” he pleads, desperate.
in response, you nod into his chest. to be honest, you don’t really care all that much about your birthday, but now you that you’re in atsumu’s arms, you really can’t think about anything at all.
but he’s here now, and that’s the best gift you could have asked for.
you and suna had always had an interesting dynamic
he was often distant and seemed unfeeling, while sometimes you grew needy and clingy
you complimented each other
but lately the differences between you led to distance, and all you wanted was for your boyfriend to spend some time with you
because even with those differences, you loved him more than anything
your birthday was approaching, and you were relieved that you finally had a day just for you and him
you yawn, rubbing your eyes gently, and breathe in the soft morning air. today is your birthday!
you don’t see suna next to you, so you venture out into the living room. he’s not in there either. you check the kitchen and come up empty.
he must have left, you say to yourself, sighing. honestly, you had hoped for a whole day just for the two of you, but you supposed you’ll have to take just a few hours.
you check your phone to see if he’s left anything, but you see nothing. it’s not like you had expected anything, but it still stings just a bit.
so you spend the day having a little time to yourself, treating yourself to some snacks and doing some shopping. when you come home it’s early in the evening, so you start preparing dinner.
you wait for him to come home so that the two of you can have dinner together, lounging on the couch as you wait.
7:00 rolls around and you continue to wait. he doesn’t come home.
8:00 is here, and he’s still not home. the food is getting cold.
when 9:00 approaches and he’s still not home, you wonder where he is, irritation and disappointment filling your gut. you send him a message, to which he doesn’t respond.
it’s almost midnight when he comes home, and you get up, arms crossed in front of you, frustration coloring your features.
“where have you been? i’ve been waiting for you all day,” you ask. he just looks at you tiredly, as if he’s the one who should be disappointed, and sighs.
“it’s been a long day, okay?” he murmurs, and you scoff.
“you could’ve responded to my texts, at least.”
“i didn’t have time, okay? can you not be mad at me for two seconds, please?”
you stare at him, baffled. how does he have the audacity to—
“besides, not everything is about you, y/n. you have no idea the day that i had, so stop making today about you, okay?”
at that, your heart sinks, and realization hits you like a truck.
he... he didn’t even remember.
even while the two of you have had disconnects at some points in your relationship, he’s always taken the time to remember these dates and celebrate them with you. but now he doesn’t even remember.
anger starts to creep in, and you can feel it in your blood.
“fuck you, rin,” you mutter, and exit, slamming the door to your bedroom behind you. you press your back against the door and huff angrily.
at first, you just want to yell. but the more you stand there, the more you just want to lie down and cry. because the thought that your own boyfriend doesn’t even care about you enough to remember your birthday hurts far more.
outside the door, suna stares at the space where you left, confused. he doesn’t understand why you’re so upset with him.
he takes out his phone, hoping to text you and ask you to come back out so he can talk to you. he clicks on your contact and scrolls through it, looking for the message button. it shows your phone number, your emails, your birthday, your address...
he scrolls back up.
oh no, he thinks, beginning to panic. oh god, what did i do?
and sure enough, the date is resting there on his phone, and his panic is confirmed.
today is your birthday. and he completely forgot.
and on top of that, he called you selfish for wanting the day for the two of you. he sees that you’ve left a plate of food out on the table for him and one for you too, and his chest aches painfully. you waited for him. and he didn’t show up.
when he gently pushes the door open, his heart breaks even further.
you’re lying on your side, arms wrapped around your pillow, crying softly. you hadn’t been this way when he saw you last, and the idea that he made you feel like this hurts terribly.
“...baby?” he calls softly. you gasp, startled by his sudden appearance, and attempt to stifle your sobs. it’s too late though; he’s already heard you. he comes over to your side of the bed, getting on his knees so that he’s eye level with you. you shut your eyes to avoid his gaze, and he sighs.
“please look at me?” he pleads, and you open your eyes reluctantly. they’re puffy and teary, and suna feels even more guilty than before.
“i haven’t been taking care of you and our relationship very well,” he starts. “i got so caught up in everything and i just got so distant and—” he exhales. “i completely forgot about today. and i’m so, so sorry, y/n. you have every right to be upset, and i’m so disappointed in myself for neglecting you.”
he cups your cheek gently, wiping away the tears there and kissing you sweetly.
“please let me make it up to you. okay?” he asks against your lips. he feels them curve up slightly, and sighs in relief.
“okay,” you whisper.
suna climbs up onto the bed and pulls you into him. you snuggle into his chest and he kisses your hair.
your boyfriend has always loved volleyball more than anything
and you’ve always loved this about him
but it’s often leads to lonely days and meals eaten alone
you know it’s part of the compromise he must make, but you still miss him
however, with your birthday coming up, you think maybe now’s your chance to spend some time with him💓
today is your birthday, and you’re looking forward to what the day has in store for you!
toshi had left before you’d gotten up as per usual, but instead of waiting for him to come home, you decide you’ll visit him at practice today. you figure he’ll want to see you; it is a special day after all!
so you get up and walk into the kitchen, beginning the preparation of his lunch. you put together some rice and meat in a segment of the bento, adding an omelet to another and some salad in the other compartment. you pack some dressing in a tiny container and some miso soup in an insulated jar, packing everything up neatly. you look at it proudly.
you make your way over to the gym, excited to see your boyfriend. when you get there, the boys are in a practice match, so you sit on the bleachers to watch.
when ushijima finally spots you during his break, his eyebrows furrow, and he walks over to you.
“y/n, why are you here?”
you pause at his bluntness. he doesn’t seem very happy to see you.
“oh. uh, i made you lunch! i figured you might be hungry,” you reply, getting a little nervous. does he not want me here?
“y/n, you shouldn’t be here right now. it’s unprofessional.”
your heart sinks.
“but i just thought, since today is—”
“you really should just go home, y/n. i will see you later,” he mutters, his dismissal obvious. you look behind him to see a few of his teammates eyeing you pitifully. and now it’s clear to you:
he doesn’t even know it’s your birthday.
you sigh, hurt. you pick up the lunch you made him and leave silently, humiliation and disappointment swirling in your stomach, making you nauseous.
when you get home, you just put the bento in the fridge and walk into your bedroom. it doesn’t seem worth it to do anything else today. so you lay down, drifting into sleep by the comfort of your own arms, missing his.
hoshiumi stares at wakatoshi as you leave. toshi senses his eyes on him and looks back at him, confused.
“why’d you send y/n away?” kourai asks, curious.
“oh. i figured i’d see them later. besides, we have practice,” toshi answers.
“but,” hoshiumi continues. “don’t you wanna spend some time with them today?”
toshi looks down at him, brows furrowed in a question.
“i mean, it’s their birthday today, right?” he clarifies.
ushijima stares at his teammate.
“it is?” he asks, voice uncharacteristically cautious and quiet, almost shy.
hoshiumi’s eyes widen.
“tell me you didn’t...”
“i didn’t know. i must have forgotten,” toshi mumbles, eyes glued to the floor shamefully.
he didn’t mean to forget, really. but the thought completely slipped his mind somewhere and now...
you’re gone, because he sent you away, and you’d just wanted some time with your boyfriend. you brought him food and company and he turned you away.
there’s an unfamiliar sting in his chest as he recalls the way he’s been treating you; the way he never sees you and how you’ve been spending so many hours alone in your shared apartment. and now you’re alone on your birthday because he forgot.
wakatoshi doesn’t know exactly how, but he knows he needs to make it up to you.
when you wake up, an delicious aroma fills your senses, and you get up to investigate.
as you walk into the kitchen, your heart swells.
your boyfriend is at the stove, making a meal for the two of you. for the first time in a long time, he’s home for dinner. what he’s making smells amazing and your eyes fill up with tears at the sight of him here.
he finally notices you’re awake and walks over to you. he wraps you up in a hug, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“i’m sorry, baby,” he mumbles against your hair. “i’m sorry for forgetting about your birthday. and for constantly leaving you alone. i want to make you feel better, okay?” he asks, pulling you off him gently to look into your eyes. his own widen in alarm at seeing you tear up. “did i do something wrong?” he mutters, self-consciousness leaking into his tone. you laugh, the sound shaky.
“no, baby,” you reassure him. “i’m just happy you’re here, that’s all.”
he sighs, relieved, and kisses you gently.
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: Bucky has a long list of reasons to hate John Walker. But the fake Captain America deciding to flirt with you, definitely takes the cake.
Category: Smut 18+
Warning: Jealous Bucky is just soft dom! Bucky, dirty talk, penetrative sex, slight chocking, closet sex, and just John Walker being annoying
Word count: 1.9k
Author’s note: trying out this new format bc I liked the way it look when I did the Spencer Reid fic. A small spoiler warning for the newest FATWS episode but other than that it’s like an AU bc this really has nothing to do with yesterdays’ episode. Comment and reblog pls and thank you!
There’s a lot to hate about John Walker. The fact that he is trying to replace Steve as a cheap version of Captain America. His stupid face and the way he handles the shield. Even the way he speaks comes off as pretentious and arrogant.
But what really made Bucky seethe with anger is the fact that his little beady eyes would not stop looking at you. Undressing you with his eyes. Taking in every move and gesture you made. It made Bucky’s blood boil. He kept clenching and unclenching his fist. How haven’t you noticed his insisting fucking starring?
“Can you chip your teeth? Because I’m pretty sure you might by how clenched your jaw” Sam said, patting Bucky on the back. He just rolled his eyes but decided not to say anything.
There was nothing that can be done. They made a silent pack not to anger the imposter. The government had asked Sam, Bucky and you to help out with a smuggling ring that they have discovered and low and behold, their little Captain America got his ass handed to him. They basically begged them to help. Bucky almost screamed a Fuck no into their faces but you managed to hold him off from punching the soldier that appeared at your apartment.
You turned around and bent over to pick up something. You were unaware that the fake Captain America licked his crusty lips while looking at you. He kept eying you like a piece of meat. Bucky rolled his eyes again and turned to Sam who was quietly reading the reports.
“Can I punch him?” Bucky whispered to Sam.
“Do you want your pardon to be revoked?” Sam said to him, not even looking up from the reports.
“There’s nobody here. Y/N won’t say anything. You definitely won’t mind.” Bucky whispered, glaring at the blond man that kept staring at you. You clearly didn’t give a shit about him. Therefore, why was he still looking at you?
Sam rolled his eyes at his ex-assassin friend. “Yeah, and later we can steal the shield.” Sam looked up from the reports and pushed them to the side.
“Exactly! Yeah, now that’s a plan.” Bucky said excitedly, standing up from his chair trying to make his way to John before being stopped by Sam, who grabbed his friend by the arm and pulled him back into his chair. Before Bucky could protest, he heard you whistle at them.
“Hey, guys! I think I have something.” You said. The three men surrounded you, while you were explaining how you found out the new base location for the smuggling ring.
Bucky tried his best to focus on what you were saying and your explanation, but he couldn’t help but notice that the Kmart version of Captain America was inching closer and closer to you. Didn’t this man have a wife? Bucky swore he read that somewhere. Why does he keep staring and getting closer to you?
“Oh! Sorry, ma’am.” The jackass said, when he “accidentally” bumped into you, he grabbed your waist and forearm to stabilize you.
“It’s okay.“ You told him, and let out a soft chuckle. Bucky felt his pen explode in his hand. The three of you turned to the pouty super soldier who just rolled his eyes and went back to looking at the schematics.
You knew something was up with Bucky. He didn’t say anything. Not after the pen exploding incident. Not even when you were joking around with Sam. He loved making witty comebacks to your jokes. It was your thing.
But maybe it was John Walker’s presence that made it uncomfortable for him. You knew Bucky hated the guy, mostly cause he took Steve’s spot without earning it. But there was something more to this. Bucky has always had a staring problem, but the number of sharp glares he has been sending to Walker has been enough to alert anyone. You couldn’t comfort him, not without making it super apparent that you are dating. And Bucky had already expressed that he doesn’t want to publicize it unless it’s only Sam that’s around.
“Agent Y/L/N, I think I found something,” Torres said, signaling to you to go follow him upstairs. You took one last look at Bucky, who was still glaring at the oblivious John Walker.
“Damn, I don’t know how you guys get any work done with that around you all the time,” John said, staring at you walking up the stairs. More specifically, staring at your ass.
Bucky looked at Sam, almost begging him to let him punch the douchebag that is this man. But Sam gripped his forearm. Bucky will not lose his pardon like this.
“How about we focus on the damn mission?” Bucky almost growled. John Walker put his hands up.
“I’m sorry man. It’s just- look at her.” John sat back and leaned into his chair. From the distance, he could see you talking to Torres.
“C’mon man. You asked us for our help but we aren’t here to do all the work.” Sam said trying to be the peacemaker between the super-soldier with a murderous gaze and the soldier with the wondering eyes.
“Yeah. Yeah sorry.” John said trying to go back to the records. You were descending from the stairs and walking over to them. John brought his attention back to you. The way your hips would sway when you walked. The confidence in every step. Everything Bucky loved, and apparently fucking John did too.
“Guys, I think we need to rest for today. I am a little bit burned out. I think we all are.” You said, with your hands on your hips. Bucky felt his heart clench, you did look tired. Especially because you were almost doing all the work and piecing all of the clues.
“That’s an incredible idea.” Sam said stretching in his chair. He also looked tired. It made Bucky feel bad that he has been focusing all his energy on glaring and not helping out. He almost felt guilty.
Almost because a surge of rage flows through him again. John “Can’t take a hint” Walker smirked at you while you were grabbing the files that were on the table.
Bucky didn’t even give you a chance to say goodbye. To Sam or the annoying motherfucker that made Bucky want to break rule number 2.
“Woah, Buck. what are you doing?” You said while the brunet dragged you around the base. His grip on your forearm was hard but not enough for it to hurt. Bucky wouldn’t hurt you, not in any way you wouldn’t like it.
There was something about how Bucky was walking, the silence, the way he was searching for something but never letting go of you.
Bucky opened up a closet door.
“Get in, doll.” He whispered in your ear, in a low deep voice. You let out a gasp, feeling goosebumps all over your body. You looked at Bucky in the eyes, and you knew he wasn’t in the mood for a fight. You entered the closet space without protesting.
It was a small storage closet. It barely had anything in it so you felt cramped. You turned to Bucky, while he closed the door. The man stalked towards you and you walked backward till your back hit the wall. Bucky had you cornered, and you didn’t mind it.
“Did you have fun, doll?” Bucky said, getting close to your face. His hands went to your hips, pulling you towards him.
“Buck, what are you talking about?” You whispered to him. Bucky rolled his eyes and took one of his hands off your hips. Placing it on your neck, lightly applying some pressure to it. You gasped at his touch, he chuckled a bit at your reaction.
“C’mon darling. Did you have fun playing around with the imposter Captain America? I mean he had fun looking at you. So I’m assuming that you had fun being looked at.” He said, with his hand still on your neck and his face inches away from your face. You looked at your boyfriend with wide eyes.
“Oh, you didn’t notice that. Well, I did. Maybe I should teach you who do you belong to. Would you like that sweetheart?” He said, his breath tickling your lip. You nodded, breathless. Bucky smiled at you.
The hand that was around your neck, went to your chin. Grabbing it and pulling you closer so that your lips would meet. His hands started to wander across your body, while yours looped around his neck.
Your kisses started to grow hungrier, more desperate. As if Bucky spotted kissing you, you would fade away. His hands reached the zipper of your pants and pulled it down. Not even breaking from your kiss, Bucky managed to push your pants down. You break from your kiss to get out of them, while Bucky took off his pants and underwear.
He didn’t wait. He pushed you softly back on the wall and started to leave kisses and soft bites all over your neck.
“Jump, baby girl,” He said softly against your skin, patting your butt.
And you did just so. Wrapping your legs around his waist, with one of his hands on your ass and another moving your panties to the side.
“Hold that there, baby. Let me make you feel so good.” Holding his neck with one hand, you moved another hand to hold your panties to the side, to make it easy for him.
“Good girl.”And with one thrust, he was inside you, hitting all the spot. You moaned and gripped the back of his neck tightly.
“Like that doll? Can anyone else do this to you uhn? C’mon doll give me everything you got.” With every word that came out of his mouth, he would thrust hard and deep into you. You felt lightheaded. Your legs tightening around his waist but his thrust wouldn’t stop.
“Fuck, Buck. Don’t stop.” You gasped. Bucky kept kissing your neck. Overloading your senses. You were close, you knew it. Bucky knew it. You could feel him grin against your skin.
“Who makes you feel this good, doll?” He asked. You gasped at his sudden change in pace. He started to thrust more desperately, less controlled. He was close too.
“You. Fuck, only you.Shit, Bucky. I’m going to cum.” Bucky smirked at you.
“Then cum, doll.” Bucky silenced your cries with his lips. Still thrusting into you, letting you ride your high and getting to his. And that wouldn’t be long.
With one final thrust, Bucky came. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and let you down.
“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.” You said, putting on your pants.
“I love you too, Y/N.” He smiled at you. You slapped his chest lightly, which made him laugh.
“I hope you realize that I would never go with discount Captain America over there.” You joked which made Bucky laugh even harder. You both were dressed and tried to look as decent as you could to leave the closet and the base.
“Let’s hope that fucking in an army base won’t be the reason you lose your pardon.” You said, grabbing Bucky’s hand, to give him reassurance. He gave you a smirk.
“Maybe if we let them watch, they won’t take it away,” Bucky replied to you, giving you a wink.
“Yeah and get John Walker to join would also help your case.” Bucky stopped in his tracks and looked at you.
“Oh, you are gonna get it when we get home.” Now it was your turn to wink at your boyfriend.
“I’m hoping I do.” Bucky shook his head but pulled you closer to him. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, walking towards the exit of the base. Confident that John Walker couldn’t take you away from him.
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How the Undatebales React After A Fight
Thank you to my friendo @wholelottatiffy who helped me brainstorm this one. I’m only on chapter 19 at the moment, so I haven’t interacted with anyone but Diavolo much. And thank you to everyone who wanted a follow up to my previous post, I did not expect that. Y’all are super sweet!
tw: Fighting (a bit more in depth than my first post), description of panic attack, minor name calling, insecurity, depression, angst with resolution.
Diavolo doesn’t know what to do with himself.
To start, we need to talk about how the argument unfolds.
He’s not used to arguing.
He’s Lord Diavolo, Prince of The Devildom, head of the RAD student council. No one defys him on anything.
So you raising your voice at him, trying to get him to see your way,
It was very overwhelming.
He tried to reason calmly with you at first, but he felt cornered.
When fight or flight kicked in, his body chose fight.
His wings burst open in all their glory as he screamed back, his towering frame far more intimidating than yours.
The blind rage is slapped out of him when he sees your terrified face.
If you’re at the castle, he’ll order you to leave if you haven’t already. Anywhere else, he’ll turn and leave without a word.
He wants to put distance between you both for fear of making things worse.
He absolutely cannot believe he just blew up at you. He would have never thought he'd raise his voice at his partner regardless of the situation.
He can’t shake the image of you flinching from him from his mind.
Now, being the prince of hell certainty has it’s perks; He has power, influence, and everything he could want.
But the one thing he wants the most seems to evade him no matter what: a friend.
A real friend.
He has Barbatos and Lucifer, but it’s Barbatos’ job to accompany the prince, and Lucifer is bound to Diavolo whether he likes the future king or not.
MC was the first person who chooses to be with and around him for no other reason than the fact that they love him.
And now he’s terrified them. Gotten in their face and screamed at them.
He assumes he’s permanently driven you away.
As soon as you leave or he gets home, he rushes to find Barbatos. To explain what happened and hope his butler would know what to do.
He’ll text Lucifer and ask him to check on you as well.
He just feels lost.
He wanders the palace aimlessly and he can’t focus on his work without his thoughts drifting to you.
He doesn’t feel like going to school or even getting out of bed. He doesn’t want to speak to anyone - to put on a happy face and pretend his world isn’t shaking.
Yet, a prince has his responsibilities. He will go about his normal public appearances as usual, smile and laugh and carry on, but it’s a mask.
Those close to him clearly notice the prince isn’t himself.
After school he visits the spots that you two visit together frequently.
Anything to make him feel as if you are still at his side.
If you don’t sleep in his bed that night, he’ll take it as proof that he was right and that you don’t want to be with him anymore.
He doesn’t sleep that night. He clutches your pillow that still smells of you and just bawls.
He will tell Barbatos he feels unwell the next morning and to postpone his obligations for the day.
This prompts Barbatos to seek you out and see if he can help resolve the issue.
Barbatos tries to stay out of your relationship as he doesn't feel it's his business, but his job is to assist Diabolo in any way necessary. And right now, he needs you more than anything.
If you sleep at his side still, it will be a glimmer a hope. That all may not be lost.
He’ll give you you space that night. He’ll walk around you on eggshells but always watch you from the corner of his eye to gauge the temperature.
He avoids your gaze, stays on the other side of the room as you prepare for bed, and as much as it kills him, doesn’t hug you or kiss you goodnight.
He spends the night staring at your sleeping face and making silent promises that, if you forgive him, he will never let this happen again.
He thinks of how to apologize. What he could say, what he could do.
Ultimately though, it feels like everything he could think of is too little of an apology.
He pretends to be asleep when he sees you stir and decides to let you choose if you want to forgive him on your own.
You will have to approach him first.
He thinks losing his temper with you was unacceptable and feels like he has no right to ask for your forgiveness.
Worse, he’s terrified of not being given forgiveness.
Thus, I feel a fight with Diavolo will take as long as you let it. He’s willing to suffer as long as you need him to.
Barbatos doesn’t argue. He sits quietly and watches you, his responses calm but absolute.
He’s no pushover, he will defend his side, but he’s not going to enter a screaming match. It’s just not him.
You know you’ve really gotten under his skin when he offers a tight, forcefully pleasant smile.
He finally shuts down the conflict with "It's your right to feel that way just as it's mine to disagree." And leave it at that.
Post argument, he will avoid you and lock his feelings about the fight inside.
He tells himself he doesn’t have time to deal with the terrible feeling clawing at his heart and takes to his duties as an escape.
If you sleep in another room, he realizes that this isn’t a minor disagreement and he’s suddenly very distressed.
His instinct is to use his future vision.
To scour the timelines and see how the different versions of himself handle it and to replicate the one with the most desirable outcome.
However, he stops himself. He feels it isn’t fair to you.
You have a right to be upset about things and he doesn’t want to manipulate the situation, and by extension, you.
Thus, he must find another way to cope.
He’s always a devoted butler, but it’s not his whole life.
He takes time for himself throughout the day and in the evenings. Unless Diavolo needs him, nights are usually his to do with as he wants.
Now, however, his identity becomes Diavolo’s butler.
He’s constantly asking for extra work and hovering more than usual around the young lord in hopes of being given a task.
Diavolo finds it odd and asks about it, but he brushes it off. This isn’t anyone else’s business, least of all his employer’s.
Even though Barbatos won’t tell him, Diavolo can clearly tell his friend is off.
In hopes of giving him something to distract himself with, Diavolo requests hellfire mushroom rolled cigar cookies and Barbatos jumps on the opportunity.
Baking has always been his escape as well as his happy place. Diavolo’s favorite isn’t easy to make, so he looked forward to the task.
And it worked. Keeping track of the ingredients, the steps, and the technique required was enough to occupy his mind.
But then it was time to wait for it to bake.
He suddenly feels trapped in the suffocating silence of the kitchen.
His mind replays the argument on repeat as he falls down a rabbit hole of what ifs.
He loves you more than anything and the last thing he could ever want is for you to be mad at him.
No, the worst thing would to no longer be able to call you his.
Suddenly, he becomes aware of the sharp scent of burnt food.
He jumps up and runs to the oven. He’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed the timer go off.
He pulls the blackened desert out, puts the cookie sheet on the stove top, and just stares at the burnt cookies.
His sight blurs and a soft sob escapes from the prison he’s created in his heart.
He wasn’t crying because he burnt the cookies, but because they were a visual representation of everything he’s been trying to suppress.
Once he collects himself, he knows he can’t continue like this.
He doesn’t want to invade your space in case you’re still mad, but he needs a resolution.
He’ll send a quick text and silently begs you to respond.
“MC, I understand if you are still upset with me, but would you be willing to talk though it? I look forward to hearing from you.”
If you still sleep with him that night, it is a great weight off of his shoulders.
He hopes it means that it will be easier to make up with you and that you aren’t too mad.
When you wake up, he will be watching you like he has all night with a small, tired smile.
He’ll put on your favorite tea as you get ready for the day then asks if you’d be willing to talk things over.
Because of how it affects both his job and himself, a fight with Barbados will not last long. He’ll seek a resolution by one, maybe two days tops.
Lucifer may be the avatar of pride, but Solomon can certainly give the demon a run for his money.
In the moment of a particularly heated argument, he absolutely will not admit he’s wrong.
In fact, he really doesn’t consider it a possibility.
There’s no point in trying to get him to see your side until things have calmed down. It’s like talking to a brick wall.
He won’t yell, but he gets a pissy, condescending tone and almost talks down to you.
If you really push his buttons, his patience with this “useless” argument runs out.
“Oh please, listen to yourself! You’re acting like a dull child!”
Freezes as soon as it leaves his mouth.
He didn’t mean to say that.
He opens his mouth to apologize immediately, but upon seeing your hurt reaction he becomes flustered and can’t get the words out.
He’ll simply turn and leave.
He’s absolutely furious with himself.
Solomon is old and wise. He’s seen many things, been many places, and he knows many things.
Sometimes though, he needs a reminder that he doesn’t know everything.
Even if he still feels he was right, he knows name-calling is unacceptable.
In fact, he doesn’t miss the irony that he was the one being childish.
His self-fury is replaced by overwhelming worry if you sleep in another room that night.
Of all the treasures he’s come across, none were as precious as you.
He can’t stand the thought of losing you because of his thoughtlessness.
For once, he feels like an idiot.
He locks himself in his study that night and brainstorms on how to make it up to you.
He decides to approach you in the morning at RAD. He’s terrified that you think he actually meant the insult and wants to clear the air as soon as possible.
He’s afraid of you taking anything less than his highest praise to heart or for you to think that he views you as below himself.
The thought of how he must have made you feel makes him sick to his stomach.
The more he thinks about it, the more his body demands that he act.
While he has many virtues, patience is not high on his list.
Assuming you returned to The House of Lamentation that night, he’ll text Asmo to explain what happened and asks if he’d let him in first thing in the morning.
Thus, when you leave to head for breakfast, be careful not to trip over your sorcerer who’s seated against the wall outside of your room.
He scrambles to his feet, his hair and clothes a mess and bags heavy under his eyes.
“MC! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I just- *sighs* I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. Would you be willing to discuss the matter again? The right way this time.”
If you do sleep with him, he’s at least relieved that you don’t seem like you plan to leave him.
Once again, however, he wants to clear the air as soon as he can.
You’ll both be sitting in silence as you get ready for bed. He’s clearly lost in thought, his eyes focused unblinking on his feet and any movements slow and disjointed.
He's not sure how to apologize, if it's too soon, and is afraid to make things worse if it's not an appropriate time.
However, seeing you move about the room he decides to risk it so he doesn't risk losing you.
Suddenly, he stands up straight and locks eyes with you.
“MC, we don’t have to talk about the fight tonight, but I need you to know that I didn’t mean what I said. I’m sorry.”
It’s up to you if you want to forgive him immediately, but he will at least apologize for the insult as soon as he gathers his thoughts.
If you yell at him, Simeon is just gonna sit there stunned
Your relationship is usually as laid back as he is, so he doesn't know what to do with you blowing up at him.
All he knows it that this is bad and he needs to find a way to make you happy again.
The thought of losing you takes precedence over everything and, though he will not sway to your side just because you’re upset, the argument loses any worth it had to him.
He’ll go to Solomon almost immediately in hopes your fellow human might know better about how arguments are resolved between human couples.
He becomes very distressed when Solomon says everyone handles it differently. He then asks what he should to make up with you specifically.
He doesn't have a defined emotion right now, he's just on edge. He wants to gather information first and foremost so he can figure out what to do from there.
He’s just a walking ball of anxiety and those close to the angel even become concerned. No one has seen him like this before.
If you decide to sleep in another room, the anxiety just takes over.
His chest feels like fiery chains are crushing his ribs, he can hear his heart is hammering in his head, and his body begins to shake as if he were buried in an avalanche.
He doesn’t realize he’s crying as he struggles to breathe.
Solomon had expected something like this may happen so he made sure to be nearby to help coach him though it.
Once he’s calmed down, Solomon urges him to talk to you as soon as possible.
Simeon isn't sure though. True, he wasn't in a good place, but he didn't want to push you if you weren't ready to talk.
He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t feel like he can think let alone coherently tell you how he feels.
He begins to feel overwhelmed again and decides to try writing down his thoughts in hopes of it helping him sort through the tsunami of emotions consuming him.
While it doesn't completely calm him down, it does help.
He stares down at the messy, tear blotted papee and has an idea.
The next morning you should expect to find a hand-written letter slipped under you door.
The letter is long and and rambling. His usually pristine handwriting is as shaky as his hands were when writing it.
It's not as dense and heartbroken as his original one, but the further it goes the more desperate his words become.
He writes about how much you mean to him and apologizes for allowing things to get that intense. He writes that he loves you and doesn’t want to lose you.
He reminisces about his favorite memories of you two together more than once.
Finally, that no disagreement you two could ever have is more importantly to him than being with you.
It's really just a collection of everything sitting on his heart at the moment.
That day at RAD he’ll watch you from the sidelines and pray you approach him about the letter so you two can work things out.
If you still sleep in his bed, he’ll be very conflicted about if he should approach you yet.
He’s afraid of making it worse if you’re still mad.
However, Simeon is an open book when it comes to his emotions so you will absolutely be able to tell that he’s freaking out.
So please, save the man a terrible night and talk it though with him.
He wants you to not be angry anymore, but even if you’re still upset just having concrete information to cling to will help him immensely.
He’s thinking of all the worst case scenarios and needs reassurance that the relationship isn’t over.
Simeon will try to make up within a day, so however long it lasts after that is up to you.
Luke (MC is his best friend):
Luke will be very, very distressed.
You’re his best friend aside from Simeon. Friends don’t fight like this, right?
Wait, so if you’re fighting with him, does that mean you’re not his friend anymore???
As soon as the thought enters his mind, he decides that must be the case.
Real friends don’t fight with each other like this.
Externally he takes a “I don’t need a lousy human like you for a friend anyway” attitude.
He’s not just testy with you though, anyone who interacts with him that day learns that chihuahuas bite.
Simeon immediately realizes something isn’t right and is very concerned.
As soon as he asks him what’s wrong, Luke's mask of anger is discarded and he tosses himself in the older angel’s arms crying hysterically.
He doesn’t want to lose you for a friend.
I doubt Luke has ever truly argued with someone so this uncharted territory is earth shattering to him.
Simeon, as he tries to calm Luke, he will text you and ask you to come to wherever they are immediately.
Because of Simeon’s intervention, the fight will only go undiscussed for a few hours max.
Again, sorry if I don’t know these characters as well as I’d like yet. Thank you for reading!
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With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.
✘ cw. angst, toxic situations
✘ note. yes, feel free to scream at me in the asks. but like don’t worry, i promise there’s more to come and there’s more to happen! it’s going to get fluffier as we go hehehehe. ALSO, I can’t help but feel that Zayn’s “Let Me” speaks perfectly to CEO playboy Gojo. hmph.
one ✘ two ✘ three
One glance at the tall man beside you, and you would’ve thought he would pass out soon.
Satoru had been endlessly fidgety hours before the appointment. Flicking from music stations to another, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or sighing at the sight of you calmly watching the city go by in a flash – it was clear he was restless. Judging from the dark circles he tried to conceal under a pair of shades, he probably hadn’t slept much last night as well.
Now that you were both inside the clinical room, with you laying back down on the reclined bed, belly exposed and all for him to marvel at, his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Satoru, calm down. It’s just a doctor’s appointment.”
“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “I’m just…excited yet nervous, you know? It feels so real now.”
Real didn’t begin to cover it. Although you masked your nervous quite well, you felt your stomach tighten when a woman came in. Her smile was gentle and comforting enough, talking you both through the process and spilling little fun facts about pregnancy. She applied a cool gel over your belly before turning to a screen, where mixed dots and waves of black and white blurred in front of your visions. Your eyes widened in awe, throat dry from the inability to speak. The baby had always felt real, but seeing it with your own two eyes, a small figure barely even a comprehensible shape in the screen, you couldn’t help but tear up a little.
“That’s mine?” Satoru breathed out, absentmindedly looping his hands through yours. It made you stiffen for a quick second, but your attention was quickly pulled back to the sonogram. “We made that?”
Your heart clenched at his words.
He sounded so happy – like all his dreams came true and you’d just given him a gift that was beyond priceless. You supposed it really was; a baby was always a miracle and joy to have, but this child wasn’t made out of love. How could he have so much fondness for something he didn’t want in the first place?
“The baby is perfectly healthy. This pregnancy doesn’t seem like a high-risk one, but it’s too early to tell so we’ll keep checking in on you,” the doctor pushed her glasses back to her nose, the sound of her cool voice pulling you back from a dangerous path of self-doubt and wariness. “Do you guys want to know the gender?”
Glancing at Satoru, you shook your head. It was amusing that you didn’t need to share words before he got the meaning behind one look, and he squeezed your hand as if to say he understood.
“I’d like that to be more of a surprise. Thank you, doctor.”
“Congratulations on being a father, Sir,” she bowed, and it occurred to you just now she was probably a family doctor. Satoru did end up keeping his promise that your pregnancy be kept private for a while. This little detail made you turn to him with shock written all over your face, though his attention was centred in on the swirling monochrome colours on the screen. Whether the doctor noticed the brewing tension between you two or not, you were still gad when they bowed once more to excuse themselves. “I’ll leave you two to talk now.”
The moment she was gone, you sat up and pushed your blouse down. Satoru’s demeanour had changed as well. His smile was wiped from his face, replaced only by a slight downturn of his lips.
Sighing, you swung your legs over the bed, not minding one bit that he was inches away from resting his chin onto your thighs. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’ve been so worried since we got here.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Even if you aren’t, it’s not that hard to see through you,” you spoke gently, a spirit possessing you because there would’ve been no other logical reason on why you placed a palm over his. Satoru’s hands were warm and large as he cupped your knee, tracing little patterns over your jeans as he kept his gaze lowered to the floor. It was an odd sight to see; that the Gojo Satoru refused to look a woman in the eye. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”
Satoru’s sigh is painfully drawn out, though his chuckles took the brunt.
“I don’t know what to do – how to be a father, I mean. Don’t you ever get worried…that maybe we might fuck up and ruin someone’s life?”
“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes – which you really wished he didn’t, because you’d never seen such azure this up close before. It was no secret that his eyes alone stole the hearts of people, but you had to remind yourself he broke them as well, so that you pulled away right before he got too close for comfort. It wasn’t what he needed anyway. Satoru simply required reassurance, so you opted for an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day we’ll work it out?”
“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, a smile lighting up his features once more. “Are you feeling good? There’s someplace I want to take you, as a celebration for our healthy baby.”
You pursed your lips. As much as you appreciated his enthusiasm, this ‘celebration’ didn’t sound like a good idea. You’ve made mistakes before and now you lived the consequence of it; being reckless was outdated. Caution, wariness, and space were the top three perfect recipes for the complete opposite of a disaster.
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Why not?” he challenged, taking your hand in his as he guided you out the clinic. You made no comment on why he led you out the back where he’d parked his car, even going as far to bow for you as he opened your door. “Liven up a little, we got good news today! Plus, we didn’t both take a day for nothing. Come on, you’re going to have fun, I promise you!”
“And where would we go where people won’t recognize you?”
“Somewhere people are too lost in their own world to focus on others,” Satoru announced before sending you a side glance, smooth hands already on their way to rev the engine.
This wouldn’t go down well. Or at least that was what you wanted to believe, because his smile and excitement were too contagious that you couldn’t restrain the smile you wore.
“A carnival? Really? We’re too old for this.”
“We’re never too old for anything,” he insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders as he maneuvered from stall to stall. Everywhere around you, children and people of all ages milled by, laughter and screams that fading into the distance. One survey at the long, endless lines for the rides and crowded spaces, you grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable weight resting on your shoulders that was beyond Satoru’s hands. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a bore. Day offs like these are rare and think about the baby! Don’t you think they would’ve wanted us to get a long?”
“You’re just using the baby as an excuse to have fun.”
Of course he would – Gojo Satoru was like a man-child. Whether it was someone randomly bringing donuts or puppies into the office, he easily lit up like a firework, seemingly finding joy in every little thing. Being stuck in the office and forced to work his ass off under your supervision must’ve taken a toll on him too.
Add on the fact he hadn’t gone out on dates or parties ever since he found out he was going to be a dad, the desperation to go out and do something was written all over his face.
Satoru pouted. “That’s mean. Take that back.”
“And I’m the childish one here?” he snickered. You merely rolled your eyes at him and gave in; too much time spent working and not enough time relaxing (not that being a carnival was your definition or relaxation, but alas, Satoru was dragging you around everywhere like always) wouldn’t be good for the baby.
“You see that bear over there? I’m going to win that for you. It could be my first ever present for our baby.”
There was no stopping him. You didn’t want to, either, because you just stood there, arms crossed against your chest as you let him do whatever he pleased. A literal man-child, a youthful soul stuck in an irritatingly attractive man’s body – these were the thoughts that ran through your head while Satoru kept swinging his arm back and forth. He chose a stall where you had to knock down stacks of cans down with one set of three balls, all because he wanted to win a bear. You would really rather go home than watch him fail four times now, but he wasn’t giving up, only flexing his shoulders before gesturing to the young man.
“Hey man, three more balls please.”
Nothing was funny about it at all. Watching your boss fail miserably even after ten tries shouldn’t have been so hilarious, yet sweat was dripping all over his face and his patience was hanging on a loose thread that you were giggling before you knew it.
His usual confident bravado began to tear down bit by bit, his face flushed from the sounds of your teasing.
“Satoru, stop,” you laughed, “We’ve been here for twenty minutes and your wallet might as well be empty! You can just go buy a bear at the mall.”
“You’re too functional. Where would be the meaning behind it if I just bought a random bear?” he huffed, pushing the sleeves of his denim jacket up to his elbows. Determined now more than ever, he even stretched his long arms side to the side with a shake of his hips. You could tell the young man manning the stall was hiding his amusement by whistling to himself, but Satoru really was such a ridiculous sight you couldn’t blame him. “No, I’m going to get that for you, then I’ll brag to my baby how cool their dad was when he knocked those cans down.”
“You mean, if you knock those cans down.”
His shoulders deflated. “Support me a little bit, will you?”
“Hmm, I don’t know, it might just inflate your ego and you’ll be too distracted by yourself to ever actually knock those cans down,” He threw a ball with a force so strong it hit the curtain above the cans, and it bounced back somewhere below the tables. It didn’t even touch the can by a smidge, and you snorted. “See what I mean?”
Expecting that Satoru would take insult to heart (as his ego was easily wounded, this much you knew when he refused to talk to anyone at the office for a whole day because one of his directors forgot his name) you smirked at him, but that smirk immediately dropped when he grinned back at you. He was no longer wimpy like before, an aura of confidence brimming from him. “That’s like the second time you’ve told me I was distracting,” he mused, leaving you baffled because he was right. “On the contrary, I think you’rea lot more distracting, so I take that back. Just stand there and watch me win.”
“Okay,” you drawled out in faux disinterest, thankful for the corny carnival music and chatter from the crowd that he couldn’t hear your poor beating heart.
You were too focused on pretending to be unbothered by him that you failed to see how the cans were knocked down. The counter guy was already picking them up as Satoru pumped his fists in the air, way too much like a child high on sugar.
Was this really the father of your baby?
“I won! I fucking won! That huge brown bear, please!”Satoru’s smile from holding the bear that was half his size couldn’t even compare to the city lights and sparklers. Even his eyes were lit up in joy as he skipped back to you, happily waving the doe-eyed bear in front of you. At your lack of reaction, he sighed before jutting his cheek out to you. “No congratulations kiss?”
“How about a slap?”
“Kinky,” he teased, sending your brain to overheat when he tapped his chin in thought. “Well, you did make my back bleed so I kind of got the idea you’re sort of extreme in bed – ow! Would you please stop hitting me? I just won you a wonderful prize and your first reaction is to hit me! This arm is exhausted from swinging endlessly, you know.”
“Maybe if you aimed better, you wouldn’t have had to exhaust yourself. Like I said, you could’ve just bought a bear,” you scolded, raising your arm threateningly when he opened his mouth again. Idiot. “Give me that.”
Satoru effortlessly swung the bear until it was under your chins, his white lashes ethereal as he peeked at you through them. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath dusting on your cheeks, that same warmth that had been mixing with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss just weeks ago. “And who said I was letting you carry this?” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying how for once, you weren’t hitting him.“I’m supposed to wave this around proudly then place it in our baby’s room when we get home. Besides, your hand looks heavy already.”
“My hands? Wait, what do you mean our baby’s room?”
At your words and questioning gaze, Satoru did a quick turn, trying to use the bear as a shield.
“Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I may or may not have had my parents’ guest room renovated as a baby room, although if you ask me, I think moving somewhere else would be much better. Raising a child in a penthouse doesn’t seem like such a great idea if you ask me,” opening your mouth to scold him, Satoru stopped you by placing a finger on your lips, noses grazing against each other. “Don’t scold me right now; I know that look on your face and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay? We can still decorate it ourselves. I just had the beds removed and the space cleaned out. Now stop over thinking and let me help you with your problem.”
You pushed his face away for the sake of your heart. In fact, you should be paid for your acting skills for looking so unaffected.
“Your hands look heavy,” he beamed, long fingers looping through yours as he swayed them side to side. “So let me carry it for you.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” he blinked innocently while surrendering his free hand, “I’m not doing this for you, it’s for the baby. Did you know oxytocin is released and makes you feel good and reduces pain, maybe even stress? We can pump your oxytocin levels through touch. It also lowers your blood pressure, and we want you at your happiest and healthiest for this pregnancy, right?”
“Since when were you an expert on this?”
“Since I found out I’m becoming a dad,” his words struck you speechless, mouth pressed into a flat line as you stared him openly. You hadn’t mean to come off as rude in that moment; you were just trying to gauge the sincerity behind his words, to explore the depth in his eyes, but Satoru must’ve took it wrong as he cleared his throat, “I can let go if you really want me to.”
“N-no! It’s fine…can we move? We’ve been standing here for ten minutes now,” Embarrassed, you pointed to the closest thing in your sight – a photo booth. “How about there? That looks fun.”
Satoru followed where your arm was pointed, laughing when a couple exited the red curtains while giggling amongst themselves. The guy even leaned down to steal a long kiss from his lover, and if you were embarrassed before, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back again right now. “You know, if you wanted me to be stuck in a cramped space next to you, you could’ve just said so. I didn’t bring the limo with me, but the Audi could be pretty small for us, I guess…”
You hissed at him in warning, “God, you never shut up do you?”
“It made you smile.”
“I wasn’t smiling!”
“Sure, mommy, whatever you say,” bumping his hip with yours, Satoru led you inside the cube. There were a plethora of filters to choose from; ranging from heart frames and ones that placed shades on your face. Not really thinking of what to pick, you reached out to press the frog hats one, but Satoru was swatting your hands away for the effect with heart emojis everywhere. “This is cute. We can show this to our baby once they’re born.”
“They won’t really know what a Polaroid is, Satoru.”
“It’s still sentimental!” he grumbled before clicking the camera icon, a huge smile already on his face until he saw you squished on the other side of the booth. Only one side of your ear could be seen, and Satoru furrowed his brows at you. “Come closer, you’ll be cropped from the frame.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Jesus, Y/N, don’t act shy now, I already fucked a baby into you,” mouth falling open at the vulgarity of his words, Satoru took the chance to drag you beside him. “Relax, you’re always so stiff. Our baby might come out frowning if you keep huffing like that.”
“You’re too close for comfort.”
“My apologies, I’ll try not to be included in the photo when you’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” he muttered playfully, booping your nose before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was close, too close, that his musky perfume filled the close space. You wanted to lean closer to his warmth and sturdiness of his broad shoulders; his mere presence bringing about a sense of tranquillity despite your words. You told yourself it shouldn’t be too bad to lean into him for just a little while, absentmindedly following him as he cheers, “Smile!”
One photo turned into two, and Satoru ended up inserting a few more bills into the slot to take more. He tried out as many filters as he wanted, acting as if you two had been long time friends from how easy it was for him to be around you like that.
You supposed it came from his heavy experience with women. You were so unlike; while he was open to touch and didn’t care too much about space, you craved it deliriously.
It was obvious none of this meant anything to Satoru. You were probably just another woman in his life, with the exception that you had a kid, but you couldn’t mean something more. If anything, he treated you more like an old friend than a lover. He’d said it himself before that you weren’t his type and you didn’t mind, so why did it hurt the longer you mulled about it? Sure, you may not be as attractive or luxurious as his previous lovers, but did you really not even have charismatic pull? Is it because you weren’t his type that he was so casual with you, while you on the other hand, felt like you would lose your mind at every little thing he did?
You watched as Satoru pulled out his wallet and kept the Polaroid of you both grinning at the camera, forming a silly heart shape with your hands per his request. It was silly and platonic – yet the gesture confused you to no end.
“Why’d you do that?”
Satoru’s hand paused. “Am I not allowed to…?”
“We’re not lovers. You can’t just put a photo of us in your wallet.”
As if to prove a point, Satoru pulled out more photos of his wallet and showed it to you. There were several more wallet-sized photos, mostly of his white cat with black shades, another of him and his best friend, Shoko, and the last photo was of him skiing. They were all placed in his wallet along with a small, faded out photograph of what seemed to be his parents from the younger days. You couldn’t understand why he was showing you this, much less how patient he was as he smiled softly at you. “It’s memorabilia. I keep photos of everyone I care about everywhere with me,” he said, pocketing his wallet back before gazing up at the night sky. “I like to think we’re friends, at least. We’re definitely not just boss and employee anymore.”
Then what are we?
There were so many things you wanted to ask. You always knew he was always this overly friendly and nice, but what did make you? What did a friend mean to him? Other than Shoko, who was his lesbian friend who was also the company’s resident doctor, you’d never seen him be platonic with another female before.
The realization made your mood drop.
Maybe you were right. He probably didn’t even see you as a woman, but what did it matter? You didn’t like him. You shouldn’tlike him. Even if he had no intentions of wooing you, Gojo Satoru was far too appealing for his own good. Being around him was dangerous for your heart.
“Wanna ride the ferris wheel? The night city always looks beautiful.”
He was just your boss...and you were just a friend. Things were going to be alright as long as no feelings were involved. You survived seven years of working with him with not a single moment where your heart fluttered when he spoke your name; a baby made between you shouldn’t change anything now. At the end of the day, you were both only doing this out of responsibility. Satoru was trying his best to become a supportive co-parent to you, and that was all it ever would be. Strictly business – purely professional – as it always had been and always will be.
Foolish girl, you could hear a voice whisper at the back of your head, don’t get too lost in his eyes.
“Y/N, are you tired? Do you want to go home now? We can just order dinner to be delivered if you’re exhausted,” Satoru tugged at your sleeve to get your attention, and you chuckled awkwardly, not meaning to have spaced out the whole time. Worry was written all over his face from the way his brows dipped, stunning blue eyes darkening like the night sky you both made memories under.
Don’t look at me like that...
“Are you okay? Do you wanna go home?”
“Yeah,” you chirped far too brightly than you would’ve liked. Right now, it was more of a mission of fake it til you make it. You would just have to keep exerting the same amount of effort into making this work for the baby’s sake. And if that meant pushing aside any budding desire for this to last any longer to focus on your ‘friendship’, then you would do it. Taking Satoru’s hand for the first time since the baby ordeal, you flashed him a genuine smile. “The ferris wheel sounds nice. Let’s do some sightseeing before the night ends.”
Neither of you speak inside the cab. Beautiful the night was as the city shone into awakening illumination beneath you, comforting you with the thought that in the grand scheme of it all, you were small. Insignificant. That somehow everything you worried about wouldn’t matter when there was a much bigger world out there, and you were but a fickle dot in the middle of its entirety. But that was you, and Gojo lived in a much different world than you did. For somewhere in the city, you could recognize several of the sky towers, buildings, and establishments owned by his family. He mattered in the grand scheme; you were a small factor in his world.
Glancing back at the man who’d been silent the whole ride, you smiled upon seeing that he was doing the same. Satoru was practically bouncing in his seat as he snapped several photos of the city, mumbling something about he’d never seen this view before.
He was so innocent yet so out there, igniting within you an urge to take care of him and wanting to be taken care of by him.
You’d already accepted that you may just never have him that way. That small, fleeting crush was like a butterfly – pretty look at, but damn near impossible to catch. You’d already stopped crying yourself to sleep over the new changes brought about in your body, that in a few months’ time, you’d look back into everything and see that everything had changed. The mistakes you made that night were still something you regretted because you wished you could’ve done better, but seeing him right in front of you now, there was only gratefulness blooming within. Grateful that he was right by your side, grateful that at least the father of your child was more than capable of giving them a comfortable life, grateful that he didn’t push you away like you expected.
Acting more on impulse than logic, you leaned over to press your lips on his cheek.“Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you let your lips stay there for a few more seconds.
His skin was warm underneath your touch, and when you opened your eyes, Satoru was gazing up at you with stars twinkling in the vast galaxy he called his eyes. You smiled at his reaction, watching as he reached a palm out to caress that spot your lips had landed.“For what?”
“For everything,” you crumbled,“You’re not a bad person, Satoru, I know that,” with shuddered breaths, tears sprung at the back of your eyes again. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just need time to adjust to…well, all of this.” Your voice cracked at the last sentence and you were crying before you knew it, face hidden behind your palms in fear he’d look at you differently. In his eyes, you were always his stoic secretary who didn’t even bat an eye when people gave you backlash after Satoru hired you despite the lack of a college degree.
This all felt new – to cry, to trust, to rely on someone – and there was a flurry of emotions you couldn’t quite place yet.
Scooping you into his arms, Satoru patted your back as your cries grew louder. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to rush into anything at all.”
In the harsh world of conglomerates where the laws of business blurred thinner and thinner with each day, it was hard to believe that not rushing into anything would be possible. It was always a flurry of hurried phone calls, frantic preparations for emergency meetings, anxiety over presenting new proposals and hoping that your superiors would sign your documents so you could go about your way. Time was as imperative as money was to them, but Satoru had proved he could be beyond that.
From the moment you met him, he never treated time as if it was something that slipped through his fingertips. He enjoyed every second he had of his life, and perhaps that was why you hated him so much in the first place.
You thought he took everything for granted, when in reality, all he did was bask in the little things life offered.
This much, at least, you trusted him with. If he said there would be no need to rush and you could both take it slow, he meant it. Around him, time felt more like a secret whisper than a treasure you both had to seize to protect. The night drifted off until it was already midnight and the crew was ushering all visitors out. You and Satoru made it home safely and quietly, hands linked together as if it was the most natural thing ever. No rush, you kept telling yourself, and you plopped down on the couch heavily as you let your muscles relax from such a long, eventful day.
You stayed there for a solid minute or so when you felt warm hands take your heels off. Opening your eyes, Satoru kneeled before you, his fingers expertly rubbing and pushing against the sore muscles of your feet. “Wh-what are you doing?”
“Your feet must be tired from all that walking,” he mumbled, looking up briefly to meet your eyes and tease your shoulder back. “Lean back for me. I’ll take care of you.”
Judging by the sentiment behind his smile, you figured it wouldn’t be harmful to enjoy this at least once. You’ve never gotten foot massages before but his hands kneading yours felt heavenly. You knew from experience beforehand that Satoru was quite godly when it came to the skills and magic his fingers brought, though this one was on a different level, and you were sinking deeper into the couch from the bliss. He was right; you were tired, and if having your boss massage you like this every night after dragging you wherever he pleased, then you wouldn’t complain.
The ringing of your phone made you sit up abruptly, surprising Satoru whose head you almost knocked into. “Sorry,” you croaked out sheepishly, “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”
“Do you need me to leave you alone?”
“Uh, no, you’re fine.”
Satoru gestured to your foot as you took the call, mouthing, “Should I continue?”
“Yes, please,” you answered back, palm pressed over the mic before you answered. “Hey, Dad!” Your father greeted you back with much enthusiasm, his energy heard even by Satoru who sent you small smiles and curious glances every now and then. A part of you wanted to ask if he was fine kneeling on the floor like that, but his knees were on the fur carpet anyway that it shouldn’t hurt him. He extended your leg and trailed up your calves, pulling a soft moan from you when he kneaded the flesh and rid it of its knots. His ministrations distracted you until you were nodding absentmindedly to your Dad every now and then, not really paying attention to what he was saying.
Then the call ended, and his last words kept ringing back into your head ominously. Satoru took quick notice of this as he tapped your knee, bringing your attention back to him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I...” you started, helplessly fumbling around Satoru. “My dad is in Tokyo. He said he wants to have dinner with me.”
“You don’t look particularly happy about that. Do you not want to meet your father?”
“I do but...”
“I have to tell him about this,” you shivered, refracting your legs back to the couch until his touch disappeared from your skin. For a moment, you had the urge to crawl back to his heat, but you were restless, agitated. “About us. He’s going to want to meet you and I don’t want to hide the pregnancy from him either,” Satoru remained unmoving as you rambled, and you hid your face behind your arms again as you remembered the rules you asked him to follow. “Listen, I’m sorry if I sound unfair right now, I know I said I didn’t want anyone else knowing—”
Warm lips brushed over your knuckles, large hands peeling your wrists to reveal your face. “Hey, it’s fine. He’s family and you can tell him. It’s not like your Dad would ruin your image or something like you expected to happen.”
“He won’t but...” you frowned, “My dad isn’t going to like this. I can’t guarantee he’ll be civil the whole time, especially towards you.”
“You told him about me?”
“A few years ago, yeah, when I still couldn’t tolerate you.”
“So you can tolerate me now?”
“Only a little bit,” you corrected, pushing his hands away as you opened your phone to check your schedule. It was mostly Satoru’s schedule, truth be told, but you were free for the most part tomorrow. Satoru could just longue back in his office while you clocked out early to meet your dad. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. On second thought, he doesn’t have to know at all. I’m only a few weeks in and it’s not like he’ll notice—”
“Y/N,” Satoru interrupted you, rudely snatching his phone from your shaking fingers. You would’ve scolded him had he not sounded so worried. “I did promise I would take responsibility for you, right? I want to meet your dad and introduce myself properly. As a father-to-be, I think I can somewhat understand that he might react strongly to this, but I also need to reassure him you’re in safe hands,” taking your hand in his, Satoru leaned into your palm, the smile he wore way too charming than what your heart could handle. “As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to meet him.”
“I’m sorry if he does something stupid.”
“Don’t be,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will go well.”
It didn’t go well. Your father wasn’t throwing a fit or causing a scene like you originally feared, but the current situation wasn’t any better either. He looked like he was on the verge of tearing Satoru’s head apart, his grip on the bread knife so tight his knuckles flashed white. Your father was the literal definition of unpredictable and out of nervousness, you held Satoru’s hand under the table for comfort.
In complete opposition of yours, Satoru handled it with class and composure. His head was ducked down in respect, making sure to be curt and precise in counters to your father’s harsh accusations.
“I’m really sorry for everything, Sir.”
“Did you ruin my daughter’s life?”
Satoru finally tilted his head back up to look your father in the eye, both your hands turning cold and sweaty in between the seats. “Pardon?”
“I asked if you ruined my daughter’s life by getting her pregnant.”
“I would never intend for that to happen, Sir,” Satoru straightened up. From your perspective, he looked every bit the man parents would want their children to be with – handsome, elegant, educated, polite, respectful and well-off – but your father was no ordinary parent. He sized Satoru up like a predator hunting his prey even as the latter acted cool about it. “Granted, it was an accident and neither of us are prepared for this, but I promise I’ll take care of her. I take responsibility as the father and you have nothing to worry about.”
Your dad slammed his palms down on the table, the loud smack catching the attention of nearby tables. “How dare you tell me I have nothing to worry about?”
“Dad, please don’t do this.”
“No, he needs to know,” he snapped. Unable to help it, you groaned inwardly and scooted closer to Satoru, knowing where this was leading. “I lost her mother right after she was born; raised her by myself when I was barely out from high school. Rich men like you may never understand the struggles of taking care of a baby all by yourself, but I did everything I could to make sure she grew up well. My daughter had a happy, comfortable life. When she told me she wanted to follow her dreams in Tokyo, I supported her, and then you go take everything away from her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? You dare defile her like that?”
“Dad!” you roared, clutching Satoru’s hand who’d gone limp. “It was equally my responsibility as it is his! I wanted this; we both got carried away but we’re doing our best, so please stop being difficult to us.”
“You wanted this?” he laughed dryly, “A child with this man you kept moaning to me about; the same man who went to clubs every night while he left you all by yourself to work, to clean up his mess from him? You wanted him?”
“Dad,” you gritted your teeth, nails sinking down onto your thigh. Satoru remained silent between you both, although you could feel his burning gaze penetrating through the back of your skull. “It’s both our mistake. But this child...we don’t see it as that. We like to view it as a blessing. It may be true we harbour no affection for one another, but we want to be good parents. That’s all you need to know and I find no reason to explain myself to you. If you have nothing else to say, you can go back home. I’ll pay for your ride,” slamming down a few bills his way, you glared at your father, who shrunk back at the anger radiating off of you. “You’re not welcome here, Dad. Just go back home.”
“I’m just worried for you.”
“You don’t have to. I’m not a little kid anymore.”
“I never said you were,” he sighed, rubbing the sides of his temples. “But he just took all your opportunities away from you! What about your dreams? What about your plan of having your own career once you have enough experience? What about—”
“Are you implying that because I’m pregnant, suddenly I’m not qualified to fulfil my goals?”
“Sir,” Satoru cut you off, releasing your hands as he leaned forwards on the table, becoming more and more like the CEO he was trained to be – all authority and gentle command that won the hearts of multiple investors. “I assure you that I won’t be holding your daughter back from the things she wants to achieve. As her co-parent, I’m perfectly capable of supporting her in the dreams she wishes to achieve. I’ve worked with her for years; I know she can reach for the stars if she wanted.”
Your mind blanked.
“Young man, don’t talk to me as if you know my daughter better than I do,” your father scorned, “I’m not questioning your capability to support her, but what about your credibility? How can you assure me you’ll really be there for her? How can you assure me you won’t leave my daughter stranded in the middle of nowhere? How can you assure me you can protect her from the harsh criticism of society? Money can’t provide nor does it solve anything,” your father copied his gesture by leaning forward, but it was to poke Satoru’s chest. “From what I’ve heard about you, I suppose you understand perfectly well why I don’t trust you.”
“Sir, I do plan on marrying your daughter and to give her the life she deserves,” Satoru confessed, effectively stealing from you the ability to speak as he glimpsed your way. “If she lets me.”
“You’ll marry her? Be faithful to her as your wife and have a family? Are you sure you can do that?”
“Yes, Sir, I’m highly confident I can. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Then that’s all I need to know,” your father leaned back in your seat, arms crossed against his chest and a stern expression on his face. “And if I find out you hurt or make my daughter cry in any way, I’ll beat up that pretty face of yours. I have two more sons that’re willing to do the same, if you don’t watch your actions.”
Satoru beamed at your father’s ‘approval.’ “I’ll face any consequence if I fall short on my duties, Sir, but I assure you, it will never have come to that.”
“So we’ve come to an agreement?”
The two men linked and shook hands across the table, completely disregarding the fact you were right beside him. You were beyond appalled, but mostly hurt that you’d been reduced to this way. And they were unaware of it, too, sickening and satisfied yet tense smiles were masked on their faces as they decided your future.
You stood up and left the restaurant.
You kept walking as fast as you could in the cold night, hands shoved into the coat of your pockets. Thousands of pin needles pricked at your heart and your skin the more you replayed the memory in your head. How stupid were you to think that Satoru would be different? And marriage? Was he serious? It all made you sick to the core to the point you wanted to throw up and disappear, until a heavy set of footsteps echoed behind you and tugged your wrist.
“Y/N, wait!” Satoru panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong with you? You just up and left—”
“Seriously, Satoru, you’re asking me that?” your face fell flat at his cluelessness, “What’s wrong with you? You men are sickening; planning my entire future like that right in front of me as if I don’t have a say in what I want. None of you asked if I’m okay with this. You really went ahead deciding we’ll get married when I told you already, I don’t want to marry you and I never will!”
Satoru brushed a hand over his hair, a hand on his hip. You could tell his patience was being tested – after being verbally harassed by your father and now with you pushing back in the same heat, it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. Surprisingly enough, however, his voice remained levelled as he sighed. “What did you expect me to do back there? Tell your father that we’re just going to be roommates and raise a child together as if we’re not already family?” he defended, words slow and pronounced with a hint of hurt behind them. “I respect you and I truly do want to be with you, that’s why I wanted us to get married.”
“You respect me?” you laughed incredulously, “Are you hearing yourself right now? No person respects another by deciding what happens to my life without my consent!”
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, okay? I apologize for it and I acknowledge my mistake that I didn’t give you much of a choice. Me being cornered and pressured isn’t a good excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to take care of you and—”
“What do you mean why?”
“Why do you want to be with me?” you demanded, “Why do you want to take care of me so badly? How did you even take this so well? You weren’t even that angry when I told you I was pregnant.”
Satoru paled. “Was I supposed to be? Should I have pushed you away and kicked you out my life? Is that what you wanted me to do, or is that what you expected from me, considering you’ve made it extremely clear I’m nothing but your airheaded boss and a man who always wants his dick wet, right?” the sting of his words pricked you both – you with your guilt, and him with his pride crushed. But he didn’t let on, didn’t waver and didn’t match your anger as his chest shook with impatience. “I’m trying to be good to you; I want to be good for you and the baby because despite what you think of me, I’m not the devil the tabloids make me out to be. I sleep around, yeah, but I wouldn’t go so far to turn someone away especially when I know I’m supposed to be there.”
“Satoru, if you’re only doing this out of obligation, you can be a good father without marrying me. Marriage is not a requirement; I don’t care what people say that I got pregnant without getting married. That’s the least of my concern, I just want the baby to grow up healthy but I don’t want to be involved with you.”
With how stunned Satoru looked, one would’ve thought you slapped him right in the face. That mere sight of seeing your boss tear his walls down in front of you almost made you feel bad, but you had to be strong.
You had to be firm with what you stood for.
“I really don’t want to be with you, Satoru. I’m so sorry.”
“What do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, begging and pleading as he stood before you, looking every bit of a man lost in uncharted territory. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. One moment, you’re telling me you want me to be a good father, and then the next you’re pushing me away. People are so sure that I’m a man who can never settle down because they believe I have commitment issues, but I’m telling you I can commit to you right now,” he held your hand, rubbing some of his warmth at your comparably cold ones. You didn’t fail to notice that he was trembling, but what about what you couldn’t decipher. “Are you really sure I’m the one here who isn’t capable of that? What are you so scared of that you can’t trust me?”
“Because you’re you! Because you’re a fucking asshole who’s been treating me like I’m an overworking machine and always expects me to undo your shit for you! Because you make me sick and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what love means!” Exploded. You exploded. “I regret everything that happened between us that night. No, in fact, I regret ever meeting you at all.”
Satoru took a step back.
All the light and joy that fit so perfectly with him had now disappeared.
“I’m sorry,” he demurred, “I’m sorry that I’d been so repulsive that you’ve felt miserable for all this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been a decent boss and I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”
“Gojo, stop. Stop doing that; stop apologizing!”
“Then tell me what you want me to do,” he barked desperately. “Because I can’t read your mind and I just want to be good for you.”
“What if I don’t want you to? I don’t want you to be good to me, I don’t want you to care about me. Be there for the baby, but don’t involve yourself too much in my personal life. Stop asking me to marry you because you and I would never work out. We’re impossible, okay?”
“How do you know we’ll never work out when we haven’t even tried?” he pushed, “You never even gave me a chance.”
“You’re not worth that chance.”
If someone could receive an award for effortlessly trampling over someone repeatedly, you would’ve been crowned winner a long time ago. You had no idea what came over you as you spat all those hurtful words to Satoru, but did your words bear no truth? The fact that he no longer defended himself meant he also knew that he wasn’t worth it – that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. It wasn’t that you were completely unfair too; of course you considered it. Weeks of living under the same roof as him and you most definitely considered it. Say you did get married and became a real family – what then? It wasn’t a marriage out of love, but rather out of responsibility and obligation.
As much as you loved your child, you couldn’t imagine throwing away your future and living miserable for the rest of your life like that.
A life built on lies wasn’t a life worth living.
“I would never hurt you.”
Your heart cracked. After everything you said, after all your efforts to keep him away from your own safety, after all the hurtful things you’ve done to him, and he was still apologizing? Why did he have to make it so hard to let go? You were tired, so tired that you could no longer refrain your lip from quivering as tears caked your face.
“Gojo, please, don’t—”
“So if me stepping away from your life is what would really make you happy, then I’ll respect it. But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Satoru swiped a thumb under your eye to catch the tear. His smile was forlorn, his touch cold and words melancholic. “Do you want the baby? Do you...want to keep the baby and be a mother? You don’t have to do anything for me, I just want to know if the mother of my child even wants to be one. And please be honest, because everything you say right now are words that I’ll mark seriously.”
The word left your mouth before you could stop it.
“I don’t want to be a mother,” you admitted, hands trailing over your belly. It felt like you were betraying your own child, but you hadn’t planned this. “I’m too young, Satoru, I-I’m not ready for this. With you there beside me or not, I really don’t want this.”
“Then,” he cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to catch a moment. You swore you saw his eyes shine under the city lights with tears, but it was gone so soon that you might’ve just fooled yourself with it. Once he deemed himself ready to talk, Satoru took a deep breath. “Do I have your consent that once the baby is born...it’ll be under my care? Would you prefer to reach your own dreams, then? You’ll never have to be a part of the Gojo family if it’s really not what you want, even though I could support you as much as you need me to.”
Your eyes widened at his proposition. “You’ll take care of our baby?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Can I...can I visit them, at least, once in a while?” It was more than just your heart that broke that night. There was no telling whether you’d hurt yourself in the long run with this decision. It was no easy choice to make – to actively pursue your dreams somewhere else more than being a mother. You wanted to do your best, of course you did, but it wasn’t that easy. Gojo didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that once you married him, you’d be expected to run the business with him and be involved in his family and their dramas. Now that wasn’t a life you wanted.
“You’re free to visit them whenever,” he promised, voice fading even lower into the background. “So is this it? We’ll just be living under the same roof until the baby is born and once they’re here...”
“We’ll part ways.”
“We’ll part ways,” he nodded in agreement, sniffling for a brief second before fixing his tie. The Gojo Satoru you got to know for a few weeks had now disappeared. Not even the goofy boss you spent seven years with could be found in the coldness of his eyes, almost as if he’d put up such impenetrable walls around him and nothing could pass through. The sudden shift in aura made your heart clench as he offered his hand to shake. “Okay. Let’s stay professional until then?”
“Yeah, Sir, I can do that,” your hands shook as you enclosed it around his, but now all the warmth had disappeared – from his eyes, his touch, his soul. It hurt, but this was necessary. It was what felt right. “Thank you – for everything.”
“You’re welcome. Anything for you and the baby,” Satoru proclaimed, perplexing you both when he suddenly pulled you in his arms. Just like that, the dam broke, and you were staining his precious suit before you could stop it. His arms rubbed up and down your back the longer he held you there, almost like a final moment to lean on one another before you had to say goodbye eventually. Beneath your palm, his heart beat exuberantly loud, so much so that you might’ve heard the prayers it whispered. “Stop crying now. The baby might feel sad too. We’ll both be alright – we just have to get through this.”
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Give Yourself a Try
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader enemies to lovers
Synopsis: you and Peter hate each other, which becomes a problem when you’re given a group project
Part two and three
“Good morning Ned.” You kindly greeted as you took your seat in front of Peter in your first period physics class.
“Morning Y/n.” Ned said back, gearing up for what he knew was coming.
“I really like your makeup today, Y/n.” Peter smiled as he leaned forward in his seat. “Is it hard balancing your schoolwork with your job at the circus?”
“Not at all.” You smiled sweetly at him as you turned around. “I could get you a job there if you’d like. We’ve been needing something small to feed to the lions between shows. You’d be perfect.”
“Small? Darling, you must be mistaken.” Peter kept a sickly sweet grin on. “I’m bigger than your boyfriend of the week over there.”
“Silly goose.” You scrunched your nose at him. “Harry Osborn is not my boyfriend. And just so you know, steroids are really bad for you. I’m worried about your well being.”
“I’m not on steroids.” Peter hissed, dropping the act. “Stop trying to start that rumor.”
“Why not?” You shot back. “You had no trouble spreading the rumor that I was the one who killed Herbie the hamster when we all know it was you who left the door open after cleaning his cage.”
“Are you kidding me? That was fifth grade.” He whispered harshly.
“I will never forget it.” You snapped back.
“Ahem.” The teacher cleared her throat as she stared at you and Peter with an annoyed expression. This was an everyday occurrence in her class, and any other class you had with Peter. You hated each other and everyone knew it. You and Peter stopped arguing and slumped in your seats, giving each other one last look of disdain.
“Instead of a final exam this semester, I’ll be giving you a final project.” The teacher continued. “You’ll be working with one other student.”
“Nice. We can finally present our work on quantum physics.” Peter excitedly high fived Ned.
“Can you guys reschedule your virgin convention for later?” You asked seriously. “I’m trying to listen.”
“Because of the disappointing grades on the last project, I will be assigning your partners.” The teacher went on.
“Don’t worry.” Peter whispered to Ned again. “We could still end up together. We got an A last time so she knows we work well together.”
“We got an A last time.” You mimicked his voice and moved your hand like a puppet.
“Yeah. An A.” Peter said as he leaned forward in his seat. “You know, like your bra size.”
“What did you just say to me?” You snapped as you whipped around. He had on his infamous shit eating grin that you hated.
“Young man, can you please stop interrupting our conversation?” He said as he held up a hand. Your jaw dropped at the insult, face growing warm with anger. You decide not to give him the satisfaction of an insult exchange and turned around in your seat. Your teacher began to list off the partners for the projects.
“Leeds, Stacy.” She called out. “You’ll be working together.”
“Sorry, man. But also, not sorry man.” Ness frown quickly turned into a smile. “Gwen, over here!”
“Aw.” You snickered as you turned around on your chair. “I feel bad for whoever gets stuck with you now. That poor, unfortunate soul.”
“Parker. L/n. You’ll be working together.”
“What?” You and Peter screamed in unison. You gave each other an angry look before looking at your teacher in protest.
“You two are always holding up my class and I’m tired of it.” She held up a hand. “This project will teach you how to finally get along and stop disrupting me while I teach.”
“Mrs. Avery, with all due respect, I can feel myself getting more disruptive already.” You told her.
“I think that’s your STD.” Peter mumbled.
“You two need to learn how to be professional and amicable.” She ignored your protest. “You won’t always like your peers. But you will always have to collaborate with them at some point.”
“I understand that.” You assured her. “But if we do this project together, my fist is going to collaborate with Peters face.”
“That’s a threat.” Peter piped up. “I’d like to file a report.”
“And I’d like to take that report and shove it up your-“
“Enough.” Mrs. Avery cut you off. “You will be working together and that is final.”
You both shrunk in your seats, fuming with anger over the teachers decision. You didn’t cause any more disruptions throughout the class and quickly left once the bell rang.
Peter saw you at your locker, which was coincidentally next to his locker, spraying some perfume on.
“Darling!” Peter exclaimed as he stood next to you. “So good to see you! You know how much I love when you hog all the locker space and make the entire hallways smell like perfume.”
“Why, thank you.” You touched your hand to your heart. “As I’m sure you know, some of us prefer to smell like things other than Neosporin and baby powder. After all, that’s your signature scent and I’d just hate to step on your toes.”
“I didn’t know. Thank you for opening your gigantic mouth and telling me!” Peter said through a toothy grin.
“Oh, Peter.” You laughed airily. “You’re very welcome, you sad sack of shit.”
“Classy.” Peter faked a smile as he opened his locker. “Do you want to come over to my house after school to work on the project? I live walking distance from here.”
“What? No.” You scoffed. “You’re not getting me to a secondary location. We’ll work in the library.”
“Actually, we won’t, because it’s closed for maintenance.” He replied with a tight smile.
“I wish you were closed for maintenance.” Yoh grumbled as you zipped up your bag.
“Hilarious.” He fake laughed loudly. “Are you coming over or not?”
“Not.” You said in disgust. “I don’t know you or your parents. You might try to kill me as a part of some Parker family cult ritual.”
“My parents are dead.” He told you, unamused. “It’s just me and my aunt.”
“Is your aunt a cult leader?” You asked.
“No.” He groaned.
“No. All she does is cheat at cross world puzzles and shop at Whole Foods.” He said.
“So you lied.” You slammed your locker and looked at him. “She’s in the Whole Foods cult.”
“Can you try not to be difficult for two minutes, please? We need to get this project done.”
“Jokes on you, Parker.” You folded your arms. “Difficult is my lowest setting.”
“Ooo. Scary.” He mocked you. “What’s your highest? Because I’m pretty sure I saw it last Tuesday when your backpack got stuck on the door handle and you decided to blame me.”
“I know that was your fault. And I go from difficult to hooligan to the step mom from Parent Trap.” You shrugged.
“And they said women aren’t funny.” Peter replied as he slapped his knee. You raised an eyebrow at him, judging him for his material.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.
“You’re gonna be sorry.” You told him. “Where do you live again?”
“Waking distance from here. I said that less than five minutes ago.” He rolled his eyes at you.
“Well I didn’t hear that because I tune you out when you speak. You know, like most people do.” You said sweetly.
“Wow, you’re so funny.” Peter said sarcastically. “If I meet you here at the end of the day, will you come home with me?”
“Fine.” You huffed. “I’ll go home with you. But if I start detecting any cult shit going on, I’m leaving.”
“Fine by me.” He scoffed. “I’ll see you later.”
“Are you ready to go?” Peter asked after the last bell had rang. You shouldered your backpack and shut your locker, feeling unusually anxious around him. You could deal with Peter for 40 minutes at a time when all you did was trade insults. Something about walking to his home together and spending time alone knocked the confidence right out of you.
“I’m ready.” You nodded.
“What, no insult?” He asked. “No mocking of my voice?”
“We were assigned each other as partners so we could learn to be civil, right?” You shrugged. “I guess I’m just mature enough to give it a try.”
“There she is.” Peter smiled as you began to walk in the direction of his apartment. “There’s my girl.”
You looked to the side when you heard him say this, unsure of how it made you feel. You often called each other pet names ironically, but this felt different. There was a change in the dynamic between the two of you and it was clouding your judgment.
You let Peter do all the talking as you walked home, thankful that he lived so close to the school. He spewed out ideas for the project the entire elevator ride up and didn’t stop until you were standing outside his bedroom door.
Peter stopped talking and opened the door, gesturing for you to go inside. You made a face at him before walking, staying in one spot as he shut the door and sat down. You were frozen as you looked around his room, not liking how human it made him. He had notes from classes you didn’t have with him strewn around and an open first aid kit on his desk.
“You can sit.” He chuckled when he noticed how stiff you were.
“I’m scared to.” You admitted.
“I don’t know.” You answered honestly. Something about sitting on this boys bed with him seemed finalizing, like you’d be opening a door you couldn’t close.
“Just sit down.” He repeated. “I didn’t rig the place with boobytraps, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“That’s what someone who rigged the place with booby traps would say.” You replied as you took a hesitant seat on his bed.
“There. Isnt that nice?” He asked sarcastically.
“No.” You said immediately. “Am I the first girl to ever sit on your bed?”
“I’ll take that as a yes ma’am.” You mumbled.
“Whatever.” He replied. “What do you want to do the project on?”
“How about micropenises?” You suggested. “You won’t even have to do any research.”
“Haha. So funny.” He rolled his eyes. “You are so annoying it’s actually impressive.”
“Please.” You laughed. “You so have a crush on me.”
“What?” His entire face went red. “No I don’t.”
“No I don’t.” You mimicked his voice. “Yes you do. That’s why you’re up my ass all the time.”
“That makes no sense.” He scoffed.
“It makes total sense.” You insisted. “You know I’ll never like you back, so you made me hate you. That way, you still get to talk to me all the time. Genius, really. I applaud you.”
“That’s a nice little fantasy you’ve created for yourself. Is that what you tell yourself to help you fall asleep?” He teased you.
“Yep.” You smiled brightly. “Right after I finger blast myself to the thought of you in your Catholic schoolboy sweaters.”
“Oh my God.” His cheeks turned even redder at your inappropriate joke.
“And they said women aren’t funny.” You used his words from earlier.
“They were right.” He said, making you laugh.
“God, I love it when you talk down to me.” You fanned yourself. “Can you tell me how to change a tire?”
Peter began to laugh as well, looking at you as you both laughed. You quickly stopped laughing when you realized you just gave him a genuine smile and looked away.
“Do you want to do the project on tensile strength?” You suggested to break the tension. “I know you’re weirdly into that.”
“How’d you know?” He wondered.
“You almost popped a boner when we talked about in last month.” You teased him. “It’s just rope, dude.”
“It’s not just rope. It’s the force-“
“-the force required to pull something until it breaks. I know.” You finished his sentence. “I’m smart too, you know.”
“Oh.” He was dumbfounded that you knew something he was interested in. “I didn’t know.”
“Yeah.” You nodded. “Women use brain sometime. Woman say smart thing like man.”
Peter laughed again, realizing you were actually kind of funny when you wanted to be.
“I’m not a misogynist, you know.” Peter said after a beat. “You don’t have to make jokes like that. I may not like you, but I respect you.”
“You respect me?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.
“I respect all women. The strongest person I know is my Aunt. Plus, I’ve still never met anyone who was as smart as my mom. I wouldn’t be half the man I was if it weren’t for the women who raised me.” He shrugged. “But it would be ignorant and naive of me to only respect woman who are related to me in some way. So I respect all of them unless they give me a reason not to.”
“Have I given you a reason not to?” You batted your eyelashes at him.
“Not yet.” He chuckled to himself. “You’re annoying, but you’re brilliant. I know you would never admit this, but we’re basically the same person. You’re just more extroverted so you have more friends and popularity. And you’re smart but you don’t make that your whole personality, so it impresses more people when you let your intelligence show.”
Your body language shifted when you realized he was actually a nice guy. He clearly paid attention to you and was impressed by what he saw. You didn’t say anything, so Peter kept going.
“People lean in to listen when you start speaking instead of tuning you out.” He brought up your insult from earlier, and you felt bad. You didn’t realize he admired you in any way and you felt guilty for always teasing him. Peter’s kept his eyes down, playing with his fingers to distract himself.
“You’re…you’re kind of every thing I wanted to be.” He said quietly. You smiled softly at him, but he didn’t see it. It was the first time you had a nice moment with Peter, and you didn’t hate it. You could tell he was beginning to panic for sharing so much, so you reached forward and tilted his chin up to look at you. His wide eyes met yours and you gave him a small smile.
“How did your parents die?” You asked quietly, immediately ruining the moment.
“Damn.” Peter pulled away with a shocked laugh. “When was your first period?”
“All right. I get your point.” You rolled your eyes. “That was a little abrupt.”
“You’re telling me.” He teased. You sat in silence for a moment, neither of you sure where to go from there. You knew Peter was still processing you touching his face, so you talked first.
“My parents are dead too.” You said without looking up at him.
“They are?” He asked, scooting a little closer to you on the bed.
“Yeah.” You looked up and gave him a sad smile. “But if you think we’re gonna take a turn and fall in love because we have similar trauma, you’re wrong. I can’t stand orphans.”
“But you’re an orphan.” He reminded you.
“Never mind.” He shook his head. “I have a feeling I won’t be getting through to you.”
“Probably not.” You agreed. “Tell me more, though. Did your parents die doing something cool?”
“I don’t really know.” He shrugged. “It was a plane crash. That’s all I’ve been told.”
“Oh.” You nodded. “Sounds lame.”
“A plane crash?” You raised your eyebrow. “That’s so boring. Yawn.”
“Excuse me?” He laughed in shock again. “Fine. How did your parents die?”
“Firefighters.” You said proudly. “Died saving three children.”
“Wow.” Peter sat back, stumped.
“Yeah.” You nodded. “I was one of them.”
“Seriously?” His eyes widened as he fought the urge to hold your hand.
“No. I’m fucking with you.” You began to laugh as he let out a groan.
“Why would you do that to me?” He whined. “You had me, for a minute there.”
“What can I say? I’m an actor.” You flipped your hair ostentatiously.
“What actually happened?” He wondered. You stopped smiling and bit your bottom lip.
“Drunk driver.” You told him. He didn’t fight the urge this time and reached over to take your hand in his. You stared at your interlocked hands, wondering if you should pull away or not. On the one hand, he was your enemy. But that didn’t make his warmth any less inviting.
“I’m sorry.” He said softly. “That must have been really hard on you.”
“You know the feeling, don’t you?” You asked with a sad smile.
“I do.” He nodded. “And I know how much it sucked to not have someone who knew how it felt. You don’t have to feel that way anymore. Neither of us do.”
You opened your mouth to speak but quickly shut it, not wanting to ruin the moment again. The guy holding your hand was not the same guy who sat behind you in physics. This guy was someone you actually liked.
“I might have misjudged you, Peter Parker.” You laughed shyly. “You might not be as unbearable as I remembered.”
“And you might not be the frigid bitch I thought you were.” He matched your tone.
“Watch it.” You warned.
“Sorry.” He mumbled.
“You were right.” You said after a beat. “We are pretty much the same person. I never realized that before.”
“Maybe that’s why we don’t get along.” He shrugged, rubbing soft circles into your hand.
“I’d be willing to give it a try, if you were.” You said sheepishly. “Who knows? I might just like you.”
“You want to give this a try?” He asked, eyes lighting up in excitement.
“Why not?” You shrugged. “What do I have to lose?”
“Okay.” He nodded eagerly. “Then we’ll try.”
“Cool.” You smiled.
“Cool.” He said before leaning in for a kiss. Your eyes widened as his fluttered shut, making you realize you were on different pages. His lips made contact with yours for a few seconds before you pushed him off.
“What the hell are you doing?” You asked as you covered your mouth with your hand.
“Kissing you?” He asked in confusion as hurt flashed in his eyes.
“Why the hell would you do that?” You exclaimed, still in shock. You got off the bed and backed away from him, trying to process what just happened.
“You said we were giving it a try!” He was shouting now too, but not out of anger. “I thought we were finally admitting that we like each other.”
“I meant giving friendship a try! I never said anything about a relationship.” You shouted. You quieted down when you saw the upset look on his face. “You... you like me?”
“I thought it was obvious.” He said quietly. “I-I thought you knew. You said it before and I just…I thought you knew.”
“Peter, I was joking when I said all that stuff.” You calmed down and sat back on his bed. “I didn’t actually think you liked me.”
“Oh.” He blinked a few times before looking down. “I…I do.”
“Peter, I’m sorry.” You reached for his hand again but his withdrew it.
“No, it’s my fault.” He shook his head and got off the bed. “I misunderstood the situation.”
“Peter, wait.” You caught him by the wrists and pulled him back down to the bed. He sat down again but looked anywhere but at you. You could see that his eyes were glassy so you put a hand on his face.
“You were right.” His voice wavered. “I did like you and I did think you’d never like me back. That’s why I always tease you. I just wanted you to talk to me.”
“Pete.” You whispered, rubbing his cheekbone with your thumb.
“I’m sorry. I really don’t want to be here right now. I’ll email you my part of the project and-“
You cut him off by wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. You both had your eyes closed this time and it lasted much longer. Your lips moved against his slowly and you could feel how inexperienced he was. Even so, it was perfect. You pulled away after a minute and looked into his eyes, feeling better now that there were no traces of sadness in them.
“You kissed me.” He said, dumbfounded.
“I can’t know I don’t like you back if I never give you a chance.” You shrugged as you withdrew your hand from his face.
“Well what did you decide?” He asked curiously. You puckered your lips and tilted your head, staring at him as if you were making a decision.
“I still think you’re super annoying.” You concluded.
“Okay.” Peter nodded.
“But it’s an annoying I’m willing to put up with.” You decided as you slipped your hand back into his. Peter broke out into a smile and nodded again.
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i loved the rejecting and regretting series!! could you do one with akaashi and osamu? thanks again!!
Hey, bub. Thank you so much for requesting. I'm happy that you're loving my works, it makes my heart soft 😭♥️ Here's your request! I hope you have a good day and stay hydrated. Mwah!
Rejecting you and regretting it pt. 5
genre: angst to fluff
warnings: rude behavior (resolved), cursing
a/n: Do read the warnings before you proceed. Warnings have been put there for a reason.
ft. akaashi keiji, osamu miya
Title says it all
With your grades in literature almost at the brink of destruction, you had to swallow your pride and ask one of your classmates to tutor you
While you're the best in most subject areas, you sucked when it comes to literature
You didn't see the point of studying articles, analyzing literary pieces and using poetic words
But for the sake of graduating, you had to take the subject
But it seemed like the subject hated you just as much as you hated it
And so, one afternoon, you slammed a limited edition book you knew Akaashi, your classmate and your crush, liked on his desk and stared at him with pleading eyes as you begged him to tutor you
At first, he rejected the offer, opting to pat your head before leaving the classroom
But you were persistent
It wasn't long then when he started taking pity on you
All your papers had red marks in them and everytime there was a test, you would stare blankly at your paper and jot down nonsense ideas
At the sight of you in the brink of tears, Akaashi sighed and decided to help, given that you have to focus and not do random stuff during your sessions
And that's how you found yourself in this current situation - hand holding the pen tightly, your eyes focused on the man in front of you instead of the story analysis he's explaining, and your heart beating as if you just finished a 5km run
"Are you even listening?"
You blinked your eyes at him and smiled sheepishly before scratching the back of your head. You knew that a small blush was probably visible on your cheeks now but of course, you had to play it cool.
"Of course," you said with a confident nod. "You were uh, talking about young love."
Akaashi rose an eyebrow at your answer as if challenging you to elaborate.
"The main character was in love with the guy... and the guy doesn't like her? And she-" you paused for a moment and grabbed the book you were reading, eyes scanning between the lines before continuing your probably wrong answer. "She died?"
With a sigh, Akaashi stood up and sat beside you, your elbows pressing against each other as he leaned down to write something on your book.
"Okay, first and foremost, she didn't die. She left. This part here-"
As he continued explaining, you felt yourself getting lost once again. Your eyes scanned over his features, taking notice of how long his lashes were and how flawless his skin was that you were almost tempted to caress it. His scent surrounded you for being too close which tempted you to shut your eyes.
"I like you," you blurted out unconsciously.
The both of you froze as soon as the words escaped your lips, eyes widening and lips parting as you stared at each other with shocked expressions.
Aaashi, who was the first to compose himself, cleared his throat before sitting upright. "Y/n-san, I'm really flattered by your infatuation but you do know that I'm only here to tutor you, right? We agreed to focus. We're supposed to be studying, not flirting with each other."
"I know but..."
"I can't accept your confession, I'm sorry," Akaashi said before sighing. "How about we end this session already? I don't want your mind wandering while I talk here knowing that you're out of focus."
You immediately shook your head no. "It's okay, Keiji. You don't have to like me back, you know? Just let me like you. You can just pretend that nothing happened. I promise I won't do anything that'll make you feel uncomfortable."
Despite your facade, Akaashi knew that you were forcing yourself to act unbothered. It wasn't really hard to figure you out. Like a book, he could read you within seconds and know exactly what you were thinking and how you were feeling, and at this moment, he knew that you were just pretending.
For the sake of not making you feel uncomfortable and guilty, Akaashi nodded before continuing his explanation regarding the story.
Surprisingly, you stayed true to your words. You didn't say anything out of the line nor forced your confession to him. Akaashi admired you for that since most of the girls whom asked him for help from the past were only after his looks and the sake of getting in his pants.
As your session came to an end, you stretched your arms out. You released a breath of relief before smiling at him. "Thank you so much for teaching me, and I'm sorry for taking so much of your time."
You started keeping your things and piling up the books you're going to borrow from the library. Standing up, you gave him a small bow before grabbing your bag. "I'll see you around then?"
Akaashi just nodded and watched as you made your way out of the library, not knowing how hard you were gripping the books you had in your hand.
That night, you cried your eyes out. Sure, at your age, it may seem childish to cry over someone, but this was Akaashi we're talking about.
The Akaashi Keiji.
The one whom you've liked ever since your first year in college. The one you've liked the moment you saw him sleeping inside a nearly empty library, several cups of coffee and littered paper surrounding his table as if he had been studying the whole night. The one who never noticed you but you never failed to notice.
Your Akaashi, or at least in your dreams, he was yours.
You stared at the now empty tub of icecream on your lap and sniffled. Grabbing another roll of tissue, you began to wipe your tears and your runny nose before playing another cliche romance movie to soothe your broken heart.
Your study sessions with Akaashi continued for a couple more weeks but unlike your previous meetings, you weren't as enthusiastic.
You were focused and attentive, but it just wasn't the same. Akaashi noticed how you would try to put a bit of distance between the two of you, how you would avoid looking at him in the eye, and how you avoided touching him.
But what he noticed the most, were your swollen eyes the day after you confessed to him. He knew that there was only a 50% chance that it was because of how you were rejected by him, and yet he felt an immense feeling of regret. The moment he saw you, he realized that he never wanted to see you like that again.
But he didn't know how to approach you. No, you didn't ignore him like the other girls do. You also didn't say any nasty remarks nor talk shit about him.
What you did was pretend as if everything was okay, as if nothing happened. It felt normal... too normal.
And it terrified him.
One time during your break, you slipped a test paper in front of him, a big A+ written on the sheet of paper making Akaashi lift his eyes from the paper towards you.
"You did good," Akashi said with a proud smile.
"Mhm, I guess I did," you said before taking the paper from him. "I wouldn't have gotten this score if it weren't for you though. Thank you."
He shook his head no before leaning back on his chair. "That was all on you. All I did was guide you."
"This might be our last study session."
"What?" Akaashi said as he stared at you with an expression you can't quite decipher.
"I mean... I don't think I need any more help. I feel like I can manage on my own already and I've no one to thank but you." You looked away from him before continuing, "I think it would benefit the two of us if we stop this already. While I'm grateful for you, I don't think that it's good for me anymore. I thought that if I acted like it didn't matter then it wouldn't, but Keiji..."
"No," Akashi said with a shake of his head.
"What do you.."
"I don't want to stop this." Gripping his hair, Akaashi, took in a deep breath before reaching for your hand.
"Y/n, I don't want to go back to how things were before. I don't want to be just your classmate. I'll miss how you would stare off into space and daydream while I'm explaining to you and I'm going to miss how you would make up answers just to prove that you were listening when in fact you weren't. I'm going to miss you, and I know that if we stop this study sessions... I may never get the opportunity to be this close to you again, and I don't like that."
Akaashi squeezed your hand in his and intertwined your fingers. "I like you. I like you so much that it scares me."
"Keiji.. look at me, please," you said softly as you tried to take your hand back.
Feeling your movements, Akaashi tightened his hold on you and shook his head no. "Y/n..."
"I'm not going to leave," you assured him and smiled when he finally let go of your hand.
Akaashi watched as you stood up from your seat and made your way to his side. He was then surprised when you suddenly sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around him.
"Did you really mean what you said?" you asked which made him immediately nod.
"Of course. I really do like you." Akaashi carefully wrapped his arms around your waist, watching for any negative reaction, and pulling you closer when he didn't receive any. "You're sitting on my lap and basically hugging me. Does this mean that you still like me?"
"Of course, Keiji," you said with a smile.
"Then..." Akaashi collected your hair to one side and gently placed his hand on your nape, his eyes traveling down from your eyes to your lips. "Can I kiss you?"
With a simple nod from you, Akaashi pressed his lips against yours.
a/n: yes, you made out in the library. This is Akaashi were talking about and there's no way I wont take the opportunity to make out with him in the library lmao.
You were one of the lucky fans of the Miya twins, specifically Osamu's
Why? Because you're Aran Ojiro's sister and that meant that you can freely see your crush any time of the day
The team basically treats you as their own sister
Although it gives you a lot of perks, it also had its disadvantages
Because no matter how much you try hinting your feelings towards a certain Miya, he just won't acknowledge it
In fact, you didn't get along with him
Unlike the rest of the team, Osamu would always pick on you
You actually didn't expect it to happen because you thought that Atsumu was the playful one among them
But boy did Osamu prove you wrong
There weren't any time of the day that you won't pick at each other, spouting remarks here and there until the other gives up
It never went overboard though. You both knew your limits and when to stop
Or at least that's what you thought
Because today, he chose to target the wrong topic
You were currently seated in the middle of the court with the rest of the team. All of you were in the form of a circle with an empty bottle in the middle.
It was Atsumu's idea to play a game of truth or dare before you all go home. According to him, it would be effective on "cooling" off their bodies from the intense practice. Even Kita was forced to participate, thanks to Atsumu's constant whining.
With a wide grin, Atsumu spun the bottle which made most of you take in a deep breath due to the anticipation.
Finally, the bottle stopped. The tip was pointed at you while the other side was pointed towards Atsumu.
"Y/n! How lucky of ya! Truth or dare?" he asked with a wiggle of his brows.
"Truth." You couldn't help but roll your eyes after that, knowing that what's to come will probably be something silly.
Except it wasn't.
"Then... If yer given the chance to date someone from the team, who would it be?" Atsumu asked proudly, giving Osamu a side glance before focusing on you again.
You heard your brother groaning from beside you making you giggle. Placing his arm on top of your head, Aran gave each of the members a glare.
"Hm... I'd probably date 'S-"
Before you could even finish your sentence, Osamu let out a loud chuckle. All eyes snapped to his direction, watching him in confusion.
"Sorry, sorry," Osamu said after composing himself. "Did ya really have to ask that? Of course she'd pick Suna. Haven't ya notice the way she looks at him every practice?"
"Huh?" Suna muttered absentmindedly, his eyes lifting up from his phone towards Osamu.
"Don't even try denying it, y/n. Plus, even if ya try, I know Suna will basically reject ya. I mean, I can't even stand ya. If it were me, I'd reject ya on the spot. Yer annoying and too loud and that thing ya do with yer hand when yer explaining? Super annoying. Ah! And don't ferget the way yer nose scrunches when yer deep in thought," Osamu said without any pause.
Once he was done, he titled his head a bit to the side, trying to peek at your face that was now casted downwards, your hair covering most of your face. "Oh, are ya crying? Did I ruin yer confession?"
To his surprise, there were indeed tears streaming down your cheeks when you lifted your head up. Everyone grew silent, completely shocked at the sight.
"I was going to confess to you, dumbass." With that, you stood up, grabbed your bag and ran out of the gym.
Aran immediately stood up to follow you, but not before throwing a glare to Osamu.
Atsumu, who was the first to break the silence, turned towards his twin. "Okay, I know that I'm dumber among the two of us but that was a real jerk move right there, 'Samu."
Osamu could only stare at the gym doors with shock and regret written on his face.
"You're on the bench until I'm sure that you and y/n-san made up," Kita simply said before standing up. "Game's over. Let's all go home."
The following days, you avoided Osamu like a plague. It even reached the point that you have to eat lunch inside your classroom instead of eating with the team like you usually do.
Even Aran was pissed at Osamu. Aran knew that a playful banter was normal between you and Osamu but never had it ever reached this point.
You were basically crying all night when you arrived home and if not for Aran's patience, you wouldn't have went home in the first place. When you left the gym, your brother found you in a nearby park, your knees up to your chest and your head hidden from view.
He wasn't oblivious about your feelings towards Osamu but he never mentioned about since he wanted you to tell him or any of the members when you're comfortable enough. It was only unfortunate that the moment you felt confident enough to confess, Osamu had to pull that shit on you.
"C'mon, Aran. I need to talk to them," Osamu pleaded as he tried to get pass your brother.
Aran stood firmly infront of your apartment, his arms crossed over his chest and his figure blocking the door. "You really have the audacity to march your way to our apartment after the shit you put my sibling through? What, you got tired of sitting on the bench during matches? Can't impress your fanclub anymore? Go home, Miya."
"I'm sorry, okay? I wanted to apologize to them but they've been avoiding me. This is my last resort." Osamu said and gripped his hair in frustration.
Once he saw a peek of you trying to hide yourself behind a wall, Osamu immediately grabbed the opportunity. "Y/n, I'm sorry! Talk to me, please! I... I don't know what to do anymore. I'm sorry..."
You soften at the pleading voice of Osamu and revealed yourself from behind the wall. Walking over to the door, you placed a hand on Aran's shoulder. "Give us space to talk, please?"
Your brother threw a glance at Osamu and sighed at the determined look on his face. "Alright," he muttered before turning towards you. "Call me if anything happens, alright?"
Upon hearing you hum in agreement, Aran placed a hand on your head to ruffle your hair, chuckling as he heard you whining before he went out.
You invited Osamu inside your apartment, making sure to close the door before settling yourselves on the living room.
"Water?" you asked out of courtesy but Osamu only shook his head no. "Talk then."
Osamu felt an unsettling feeling inside him at your dismissive tone. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.
"I was used to havin' banters with ya that I didn't realize that I was already sayin' too much. I didn't mean to hurt yer feelings, y/n. I know that it may sound ridiculous considerin' how harsh I was to ya but I really didn't mean those words."
You listened attentively to him as he continued to apologize, your tears once again flowing down your cheeks as you remembered everything that happened. "I really like you, 'Samu. I don't even know how or why but I just do and I guess I was hurt, not only because you rejected me but also humiliated me. I don't deserve that," you said and brought your knees up to your chest, clutching the throw blanket as you sobbed.
Osamu was beside you in an instant, his arms enclosing you as he pulled you to his lap. "I know...I know. I'm sorry," he whispered as he rubbed your back soothingly. "I guess I got blinded by jealousy. I thought that ya were going to say Suna's name so I assumed that ya like him."
Wiping your nose with the sleeve of the hoodie you're wearing, you looked up at him with a frown. "Jealousy? I thought you hated me. Why would you even feel jealous?"
"Do I really have to spell it out fer ya?" Seeing you nod, Osamu sighed and pressed your face to his chest in order to hide his flustered cheeks. "I like ya, okay? I always pick on ya because I wanted yer attention. I didn't actually expect ya to fight back but ya did. That's why I was intrigued by ya, and if ya still like m-"
"Yes," you answered without even letting him finish. With your face still buried to his chest, you could hear his heartbeat picking up. You pulled away from the hug and looked up at him, you cheeks still slightly damp from crying.
"Yer not kiddin'?" Osamu asked as he stared at you, his hand reaching up to wipe your cheeks with his thumb.
"I'm not. I'm still a little hurt so you have to make it up to me, but my feelings? They're still here," you answered honestly.
A smile made its way to Osamu's lips upon hearing what you said. Pressing his forehead with yours, he tightened his arms around your waist to hold you closer. "Thank ya fer givin' me another chance, angel."
After making up and stealing kisses here and there, you and Osamu decided to cuddle on the couch, your back against his chest and his arm resting against your waist.
It safe to say that when Aran came back, the most sour expression made its way to his face. It hadn't even been two weeks when he witnessed you literally crying your eyes out and now, he comes back to you sleeping on the couch with the man that made you cry.
"Fuck my life," Aran muttered with a groan.
Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️
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In the Dark | Childe Smut
Pairing: Childe x fem!reader
Genre: SMUT!! SMUT!! SMUT!!
*WARNING!! THIS IS PURE SMUT. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, IT IS UPON YOUR DISCRETION. PLEASE READ RESPONSIBLY*
A/N: MERRY FCKN CHRISTMAS Y’ALL!!
It was never clean cut or anything.
Like shadows in the dim light, everything was vague and hazy—thinly veiled by smoke and meaningful lies. There was never an agreement, yet as soon as your eyes meet and fingers touch, such tumultuous desire could never be denied. Just like how the both of you play and reside underneath the shadows, you breathe deception and swallow bitter truths while honey and milk drip from your lips.
He, as a Fatui Harbinger, was an omen of chaos wherever he went. He craved anarchy and disorder; his blood curdling with excitement whenever cataclysm befell. You, on the other hand was a product of desperation; pushed further and further into the darkness until you wore it like a second skin. You were the eyes and the ears of anyone who paid you handsomely, knowing no loyalties except towards the golden coin.
Yet, in some arbitrary reason, the both of you knew instinctively what the other needed—thus no physical or verbal contract has been made; only consensual desire written on skin as lips touch with fervor.
And that is where you found yourself, dragged in a dingy room of a musty inn with deep dark blue eyes piercing through you with unbridled desire.
“N-Not here….” You whispered, as his lips left you in a moment of repose. “Childe!”
“But I want to fuck you right here, princess.”
He only chuckled darkly; your wrists pinned on the brick wall as he attacked your neck with a voracious appetite. Pressing his warm body against yours, you could easily feel your sobriety slipping away and replacing it with lust.
Yet if only it were that simple, the both of you would have never repeated this vicious cycle over and over again.
In an impulse, you pushed him away; your nails leaving scratches on his neck like a decorated scar.
Your body was heaving with eyes crackling like thunder. The air between the two of you permeated densely; charging with heat and electricity despite the distance.
Childe could feel you preparing to strike, like a snake judging the right time to lunge at their prey. He knew that if he moved an inch, he’d be electrocuted in an instant. Yet it only made his eyes dilate and his blood rush faster.
“And here I thought I’ve had it easy,” he began; a smirk hanging from his lips. “Took you long enough, princess.”
You scoffed at him. “I’m not like you.”
At your words, he arched a brow.
“Oh?” He began circling around you, like a predator to a hapless prey. “You’re not like me…what a funny thing to say.”
Childe mused to himself, flicking his hand to toy with droplets of water between his fingers. You felt uneasy at his flippant tone, knowing full well that he was contemplating something, and usually it wasn’t to your favor.
“You, who would drag your fingers on my arm while nobody noticed. You, who would keep on denying me, but want me more than anyone. You, who keeps on saying we’re not the same? Wow.”
Completing a full revolution, he then stopped behind you. Even without seeing, you could feel him breathe behind your back; hearing the sound of water moving to the motion of his fingertips.
You tried to turn around yet the cold wet droplets slid up your neck, making you stand rigidly in place. You could feel water move against your warm skin; the contrast making you shiver—he wasn’t even touching you yet you were already at this state.
“Yet look at you now, princess. We barely started and you’re trembling…” his voice had a mocking playful lilt; both sexy and charismatic.
“Just say you want me.”
It was disgraceful.
Fueled by your wounded pride welling up in your chest, you jerked back and launched a series of electrical currents towards him. Childe easily dodged the first few, yet couldn’t avoid the rest. However, instead of jerking away like you expected, he dashed towards you; seizing your wrists and pining you back on the wall with a loud thud.
Even with your wind knocked out of you, you could feel electricity still coursing on your skin—continually emitting waves towards Childe who was stubbornly strong, despite being electrocuted.
“Aahhh….Princess…” he muttered, his lips trembling. “You really are something, aren’t you?”
Struggling to remove your wrists from his grasps, you grimaced at how he pushed even harder. In this game of push and pull, there is no clear victor. Yet victories aren’t the reason why you keep coming back. You knew there was something primal, something twisted running underneath your veins whenever Childe pins you against the wall like this; feral eyes blown wide.
“I never realized how much you’re in denial,” he grinned. “You’re not like me? Bullshit.”
Leaning close to you with lips mere inches from one another, Childe stared right at you with those ocean eyes, daring you to sink further into the abyss.
“We’re cut from the same cloth, Princess,” he purred, his knee pressing against your apex. “You like it when I fight back. You like it when I’m rough with you. You want me to fuck you hard and rough until you cry out in pain and pleasure. Am I right, Princess?”
At his words, you could only glare at him; not trusting to open your mouth when he was rubbing you at the right places.
“I trust your silence means yes,” Childe amused himself, his lips brushing against yours. “After all, people like us…we need to feel things quite intensely, don’t we? Mild, gentle, sweet…those things just don’t cut it anymore. You and I…we’re the same sort of crazy.”
His lips then crashed against yours ferociously, biting and nipping on your until they were swollen. Of course, you fought back. You bit on his lower lip until it bled, yet instead of pulling away, Childe on grinned and pried your mouth open with his tongue. You can taste his blood and the sheer lust he poured into the kiss. It was both intoxicating.
“You’re amazing, princess,” he purred to your ear, his knee grounding against your core as you rubbed yourself for some friction. “Ah, fuck. I’m so turned on.”
You tried to push him away one more time—or else this game would get boring, right? Yet he was prepared for it, catching your wrists and turned you around, effectively pushing you against the wall. You can feel his hard on pushing against your butt.
“Now, now. Be a good girl, princess. I’ll make you feel good in a sec.”
Releasing one of your hands, he relied on his weight to push you to the wall as he turned his attention to your already wet cunt. Pulling aside your garments, Childe’s fingers slid inside your underwear and began to rub your sensitive clit.
The sudden stimulation made you moan, closing your eyes as you felt your strength giving away at how much he was pleasuring you.
“Now, that’s what I wanna hear,” he whispered, sliding his tongue on your exposed shoulder. “Scream out my name next time, princess?”
With those words, he continued to make you feel good. Childe’s fingers brushed against your dripping wet slit, making it easy to circle around your nub. You could no longer keep your thoughts coherent; it felt so good that you couldn’t really think of anything else, much less stopping. The sound of his seductive humming kept you going, clouding your mind with a heady haze.
Eventually, he slipped two fingers inside of you. Long and agile, he could reach places you could never reach on your own. It didn’t help how he already knows which spots to send you over the edge. With just one push against your walls, your back arched, squealing in delight at how good it felt to be fingered by him.
“C-Childe….! Fuck…! P-Please…I—” you panted, turning your head towards him.
He smirked. “Oh? Is there anything you want, princess?”
You grimaced. You knew he wanted you to say it directly to him—to say how much you wanted to get fucked by his large cock which kept on rubbing against your ass. It would hurt your pride but—
He pushed his fingers against your sweet spot once more, interrupting your thoughts as you had to moan the pleasure he was giving you.
Pride, it doesn’t matter right now.
“C-childe….!! G-Goddamn it…mnnhmm…! F-fuck….me…please fuck m-me…nghh…! Hurry….!”
Smirking against the nape of your neck, Childe chuckled. “Well said, baby girl.”
With one of his hands, he pushed aside the rest of your clothing as he unzipped his pants. You could feel his hot and hard length gliding against your slit and coating it with your juices; the head of his cock brushing against your clit and making electrifying sensations throughout your body.
“S-stop…stop teasing me….aahhh—!C-Childe…! Childe…please…!”
“Here you go, princess!”
With one push, he slid his cock inside of you all the way to the hilt; making you keen against the wall. As soon as he was in, Childe began pounding against you as roughly and ruthlessly as he could. You could feel his length pushing all the way to the end, hitting all those wonderful spots which made you see stars.
“F-fuck princess…! You’re so fucking hot…!” he groaned to you ear as he nibbled on it, keeping his pace relentless as the grip of his hands to your waist.
He was already so addicted to this pleasure—of dominating you, of winning against you who kept him on his toes. He wanted you so much that if possible, he’d keep you as his. And of course, you were already his, as much as you had already ensnared him to be yours. It was toxic and definitely dangerous—but that’s where the thrill comes from.
“Mine,” he growled against your skin, filling every possible space on your shoulder with his marks. “You’re mine, princess…”
“A-ahh…! Ohhh! Childe…fuck…yes!! H-harder!”
He kept on pounding into you, his hand wandering to your breasts as he fondled them. You could feel him so intensely now, his hard cock rubbing your walls as he kept on stimulating your clit. Any moment now, you’d be sent to the edge.
“H-hey…can I come inside…?” he whispered on your lips, giving you small kisses here and there.
With half-lidded eyes, you caught his lips once more, giving him one long drawn kiss before replying. “It’s…fine…nghh! Fill me with your cum….!”
Definitely satisfied with your answered, Childe then pinched your clit without warning, surging pleasure throughout your whole body. You could feel your fingers and limbs tremble at how intense he was pounding into you; your head resting on his shoulders as Childe fucked you from behind.
“O-oh god—! C-childe!”
With one sharp thrust, you were pushed off the edge—coming so intensely as if you could faint from ecstasy. Your walls clamped hard on him, making him groan your name over and over again. A few erratic thrusts after, Childe finally came inside you as he bit your shoulder, filling you with his seed; the warmth spreading all over your lower half.
Falling down from both your highs, Childe began to lick the wound he had made on your skin. For some reason, he liked the taste of blood, more so yours.
“C-Childe…” you muttered, once again turned on even after you had just orgasmed.
He smirked. He knew right away what you wanted, and pushed his half-hard dick still inside you.
“You know princess, I think we’re really made for each other.”
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can i request wall fcking w issei while he’s tryna make you be quiet?🥺 pls&ty😩✋
FIRST POST OF THE YEAR BABY LETS GOOOO!!!! BUT LMFAOOO IM SORRY I HAD TO DO SEVEN MINUTES ISN HEAVEN YOU CANT TELL ME SEIJOH DONT BE SITTIN IN A CIRCLE PLAYING NEVER HAVE I EVER!!!
pairing: matsukawa issei x reader
contains: seven minutes in heaven, semi-public sex idk it’s a closet, getting caught kinda but not rlly, wall sex!!!, there’s praise uh yeah
“Are we really playing this fucking middle school game?”
“Shut up and pick something!” Makki whoops, shoving the makeshift bucket even closer. “It’ll be fun, pinkie promise.”
You roll your eyes at his antics, forcing down the smile that threatens to rise as you nurse your cup against your chest. You use your free hand to pick one of the many objects, fingers making out faint shapes as they brush by lip gloss that you’re pretty sure is Oikawa’s, but the brush of hard leather makes you pause.
“Stop thinking about it,” Makki complains, shaking the hat demandingly, and you don’t have the time to make up your mind. You pinch the wallet between two fingers, fishing out for everyone to see. The man’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, a low, entertained whistle spilling from his mouth. “Mattsun it is!”
The words raise something bitter in you but you shove it to the side, crossing your arms over your chest as you let it fall, plopping onto the carpet. You meet the man's eyes from across the room, ignoring the darkness lurking in the half-lidded gaze in favor of pushing yourself to your feet. There’s a vague expression on your face, but you’re nervous, especially when he raises a brow and the piercing there is jostled.
It’s condescending in a way that makes you angry, washes away your hesitation and fills its place with the need to prove yourself. You meet his stare with a brave face that you force yourself to hold, gesturing towards the closet at the end of the hall, “After you.”
Issei seems to pause at the challenge, a chorus of ‘Oooos’ rising from the scattered crowd but he shakes his head with a chuckle, unfolding long limbs in with a grace he shouldn’t possess; especially not with the rips in his jeans and the heavy thud of his boots.
The place you’re led to is much smaller on the inside, a small closet with a few linens stacked in the back but otherwise empty. Mattsun is already standing there, large enough to rob the cramped space of even more room. Hands push into your back, no doubt Makki trying to be funny, but Issei reaches out to steady you immediately, catching onto your elbows.
There’s laughter in your throat when the door slams shut behind you, casting the world in a sudden darkness but you can see the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, letting you go in favor of stepping back a bit.
“Sorry about this,” He murmurs like a secret, although you can tell by the twinkle in his eyes that he doesn’t actually mean it. “They enjoy their games.”
“And you don’t?”
“Hey.” Issei sighs, and he’s close enough to breathe the words across your face. You catch the way his eyes flicker down to your lips- can feel the faint pressure of his hands as they find your arms again even in the dark. “Look at me.”
“Why?” You hum back, already uneasy from the close proximity. You cross your arms over your chest, as if it would hide your own insecurities from the prying eyes you refuse to meet. But Issei looks at you with a lazy grin and no judgment, only a soft, cat-like pleasure that never seems to ease.
Reluctantly, you do as he tells you, and you’re met with the realization that he’s much, much closer than you thought. Your eyes widen in the same time it takes him to close the distance and press his lips to yours.
You don’t stop to think about it; don’t stop to dwell on the consequences before you’re melting into him, arms falling limply away from your body. They find his chest- brush uncertainty against his shirt before he’s grabbing your wrist, pushing your hand firmly against him.
“They’re- they’re outside.” It’s almost hard to tell when you open your eyes but Mattsun is crowding you back into the wall anyways, cupping your cheeks to draw you in even closer. You’re barely able to draw in your own breath with him so close but you manage to split apart, panting from pleasure. “Are you sure?”
Issei hums his confirmation, hand fiddling with the hair at your nape. He doesn’t try to pull you back in, just flicks your earring. It makes it hard to focus, especially when you’re engulfed by the smell of his expensive cologne and the only thing you can think of is him.
“Mhmm.” He tells you, and then he’s leaning in again. Not to kiss you, surprisingly, but your breath still hitches when he cups your jaw, tilting your head away from his face. It’s a wonder how you manage breathing at all, especially when he sighs again, lazy and content.
“So, uh-” You can feel it before he does it- the phantom ghost of his lips before he’s nuzzling into your neck, nudging your head to the side and he presses a kiss there, making a noise in response. “You, I--”
Isse’s lips never stray far from your throat, pressing warmth into your skin and disrupting any pattern of speech you could possibly form.
“This isn’t the best spot for this-“ But your hands tell another story, curling into the leather of his jacket until it crumples in your fist and you can tug him closer, neck tilting to give him more access. There’s a certain thrill that rises with it, knowing any noises too loud could be overheard by prying ears.
“Six minutes.” It’s a gentle reminder of the timer you'd almost forgotten about, the ticking bomb that meant the end to this interaction altogether. You try not to be too bitter about it, tugging gently in his hair when he kisses the shell of your ear, “Tell me to stop and I will.”
You know what he means when you’re being turned around, chest pressing into the wall as he slides in close behind you, fingers dipping past the waistband just over your ass. His touch burns, leaves goosebumps rippling down your skin, but the agonizing pace of his hand only reminds you of the lack of time.
“No, no, no. Want you now-“ You reach around, forcing the odd bend to reach with an urgency, pawing at his hip and pushing when there’s no give. “Don’t make me wait.”
“I’m gonna take care of you, angel.” Issei soothes, but the denial just makes you bitter, turns the sincerity in his voice into a sour patronization- frustrates you beyond belief. “Don’t want you hurt now, do we?”
You know he’s right but the thought of waiting makes fury rage beneath your skin, brows furrowing at the thought of putting it off even longer. It feels like a child’s temper tantrum with how fast he pushes you to anger, but you’re too rushed to care. “We don’t have time.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“But-!” There’s another borderline whine making its way from your lips when your head is wrenched back, eyes forced to meet the heated intensity of his own.
“I’m not fucking you without prep.” He says it like the idea alone is enough to make him angry and you go as limp as you can, whimpering out an apology. “So either we finish up now, or stay still and let me loosen you up, okay?”
The fight leaves your body seemingly all at once, logic outweighing the borderline feral way you crave him. Issei huffs out a breath, satisfied, grinding his hard cock against your ass, you can feel why he was so insistent on prep. Issei can feel the way you tense and he stops for a second- holds you steady so he can dip his head to search your eyes. “What’s wrong, hm? Don’t wanna?”
It only makes you hungrier, builds on your already overwhelming desperation until the only thing you can think of when you inhale is him. “Yes, yes, just hurry.”
Thankfully, Issei takes mercy. There’s a kiss placed to the back of your neck, a warning, before his hands are back to petting down your sides, tugging at the waistband of your skirt before pushing it down altogether. The feel of cool air on your heated skin is relieving, and the frantic tension in your body melts away beneath his touch.
You squeak when he finally reaches your cunt, legs moving to squeeze together on instinct but his knee wedges in between him, keeps you vulnerable. “No hiding.” He purrs, “Let me see all of you.”
You don’t know if he can even see, but you don’t bring yourself to question it, focusing on kicking away the clothing that tangles at your feet. He runs his middle fingers through your folds, hums in appreciation at the way you’re almost dripping, before sliding towards your clit, rubbing over the bud firmly enough to make your hips jerk.
“Fuc-” Matsukawa clicks his tongue at your outburst, making a soft shushing noise before finally pressing in.
“I’ve been thinking about this, you know.” He says suddenly, and you don’t have it in you to worry about what he’s talking about. Hope fills you for a second but you shove it down, squashing it into nothing but he bulldozes through you, doesn’t care what effect his words have on your heart, “-What you’d look like under me.”
You muffle a whimper when he curls his finger, pushing in a second when he pulls out the slightest bit and his groan rattles through your back, so low it’s almost deafening in the small space. You let it fall quiet, reining in the sounds you feel like you need to make and the only sound for a moment is the quiet breaths you try to keep at bay.
“How you’d sound,” The irony almost makes you laugh but you choke on it anyways, trembling in his arms, “Next time, I promise.”
The implication is enough to make you keen and Issei chuckles at that, curling the three fingers he has buried inside of you and it presses into something deep, deeper than you could reach on your own. Your hips jerk, legs locking hard enough to make him grunt in discomfort at the pressure on his knee.
“So good,” The praise is rumbled over your skin followed by a kiss that stings more than anything. It’s a miracle he doesn’t tease, just places another hand on your hip to help you rock back onto his palm. “Can’t even imagine how you’re gonna feel on my cock.”
That’s all it takes to knock you over the edge- the thought of Issei getting off to you makes something inside of you gleam with satisfaction. You can almost see it- the way he would fuck his own fist and bite his knuckles, spilling into his own hand to the thought of you.
The orgasm knocks the wind out of you, forces you to draw air into your already empty lungs and you gasp as the support vanishes, leaving you on unsteady legs.
His fingers are gone before you know what’s happening, space filled with stiffening air and the obscene sound of him slipping away but the jingle of his belt fills the silence. Your mouth waters in anticipation, fingers curling before you make your mind and spin around, meeting his curious gaze. “Wanna-” You cut yourself off, avoiding his eyes as you stand there awkwardly, “I want to look at you.”
“Oh,” He sighs, eyes softening There’s a fond twinge in his expression but that sleazy smile is still rooted in place, almost smug. “Pretty girl wants to look at me?”
Matsukawa seems too tall in the space before you, expression humming glittering with mirth. “Let’s fix that then.”
Your back is pressed into the wall again, a familiar position except this time he wants more. His fingers dig into the back of your bare thigh, grace the damp skin and he groans at the feel of it, hoisting it up his leg. It doesn't take long for you to get the message, pulling yourself up until he catches you by the other, grinding your hips into his.
“Please.” The urgent whisper rises to a quiet shout, one he laughs at. One of his arms disappears, leaving you to flounder awkwardly for a second before he shoves his pants down, shuddering in relief. Your hand finds the back of his neck, yanks at the hair on his nape, “Cmon, cmon."
“Keep being a brat and I’ll leave you here.” The warning is empty, you know it is, but when guides his cock towards your drooling pussy, you don’t even want to risk it.
“Bite your tongue.” He says, and that’s all the warning you get before his grip goes loose and you’re dropping. Gravity carries you down, but it’s your hips that do the rest. The breach makes you cry out but Matsukawa swallows it down with his mouth, draws you into a sloppy kiss as you’re dragged down his body.
By the time your ass finally hits his thighs you’re shaking, so full you can feel it in your stomach with every swallow. Your throat closes up, cutting off any noises that try to slip free even as your head falls back and thuds against the wall, loud enough to make him wince.
Issei doesn’t move- feels like he can’t with the way your pussy is molding to the shape of him. You’re warm, wet enough for your arousal to begin pooling down the length of his cock and the only thing he can do is take a breath to steady himself. It had to have been more than seven minutes, it had to, but the way your walls flutter around him wipes the slate clean.
He wants to pinch himself, honestly, but settles for digging his fingers into your ass as a reminder that you’re actually here, flesh and bone beneath his fingertips rather than the cruel dreams that wake him up in the middle of the night.
There’s a threatening irritation beneath your skin, every second he keeps you rooted with no movement only makes that frustration build.
“Fuck me,” You grind out after a moment, although it comes louder than you mean it too. Shame blooms immediately but all Issei does is chuckle, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You’re lifted the slightest bit, shuffled further up the wall before he lets you slip, dropping back down to his hips.
The impact winds you, startling enough to shock a moan free and you grit your teeth, sucking in harshly through your nose. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and nod.
He takes it slow but he doesn’t take it easy- the angle drags him in deep enough to hurt, grazing your cervix in a way that makes your joints lock before he readjusts, hooking your knees back over his arms. They tremble where he has them pinned so you try your best to trust him, mustering enough faith to relax.
“So perfect, letting me have you like this.” The words are a low purr and you whine, twisting in his grip in a demand for more and he grants it, bucking his hips with enough force to knock you off-kilter. “My pretty little angel.”
My, he‘s whispered, and there’s suddenly something undeniably intimate that blooms between you. Issei whispers the phrase like it’s his own little secret, like even you weren’t meant to hear, and heat rushes through you. Issei groans, burying his face into your neck, and his hips rock a little faster.
“Y-yours,” You gasp back, clawing at him for leverage. There’s no control in the way you’re moved, jostled and filled like you’ve never been before and you know that Issei has ruined you for anyone else. Nothing could ever compare to the way he presses into your stomach, draws your attention to the push and pull of his cock.
“That’s it, baby,” He cooes, and Mattsun drags you down, thrusts up and spears you open when you whine for him to slow down, to help lessen the sound of skin on skin, “Taking it so well. You're gonna cum, aren’t you? Fast and pretty just how I like it.”
“F-fuck, I can’t, can’t-” You stutter on your words, struggling to pull the air into your lungs when it’s knocked out of you with every thrust, eyes fighting the urge to roll back. “So full, so full, so full-”
“I know, angel.” You wonder how he’s able to see you so clearly in the dark but his hand wanders up your shirt, slips beneath your bra and shoves it up to your neck. His fingers pinch at your nipples, tugging in a way that makes you tighten around his cock. “Just a little bit longer, gonna give you just what you need.”
His hips buck, fucking into you just a bit harsher and your hand claps over your mouth. Tears sting your eyes with the pent-up need to release all the energy you’re accumulating and you want to hold them back but you can’t control your body. Your cunt flutters around him, tightening and gushing in a way that makes him groan.
“M’gonna,” you moan, words cracked and muffled as you try to whisper. Issei doesn’t take it easy on you, cock prodding deep enough to knock your hand away from your mouth, “M’gonna cum.”
“Sh,” Issei croons, chin hooking over your shoulders. His digging into your waist as he relentlessly drags you to meet him. “So close, aren’t you? You gonna cum for me? Gotta make it quiet, okay?”
You try to be quiet, you do, but it’s so hard when everything feels so good. You can’t care about anything when that tension threatens to snap, not even the increasing volume of your whines.
“Sh, sh, sh.” He croons, before shoves his cock in deep enough to force a cry from the seal of your lips. His hand clamps down hard over your mouth instead, fingers digging into your face, “Be quiet, angel. Need you quiet- don’t want them to hear, do we?”
You try your best to nod but it’s hard when you’re pressed so firmly into the wall. The thought of being caught goes straight through you, makes you clench around him a little tighter until the hiss he holds back slips free. “Sh, that’s it, good girl.”
It seems like your whole body is shaking by the time you finally cum, arching off the wall as your eyes roll back and you hold onto his wrist for dear life. There’s a creak, the sound of metal turning and you’re struck with a fear that robs you of all sensation but the orgasm seems to double tenfold at the risk, like a bucket of ice is poured down your sobering spine.
“Open that door and I’ll fucking kill you,” Mattsun snarls, nails digging into your hips. There’s a rage in his voice you’ve never heard before, one that forces you to choke down another whimper, clapping a hand over your mouth. You can hear Makki’s whistle, the explosive cackle of his surprised laughter but the footsteps vanish and you’re alone again, all too aware of the cock prying you open.
“Just us,” Issei breathes, “Just me and you.”
He pulls out the slightest bit, enough to make you ache with loss, and your back is sliding down the wall when he thrusts up, plaster creaking beneath the force. His hands fumble, can't decide between the feeling of your slick skin and the stability of the wall but it doesn’t matter, not when he lets you fall the slightest bit and uses you to chase his own release.
You feel like the pleasure doesn't stop, overrides your body until it borders on pain as he batters you, groaning into your ear. The sounds burn through you, make you whine in response at the insistent sparks that start up again, far sooner than you’re ready.
“Issei,” You whine, high and needy, “Cum for me, yeah? Wanna feel you- need you to-”
You’re slammed down to meet him, lips pressing to yours so fast your teeth clack and there’s relief when he finally stills, shuddering beneath your hands with a moan that you burn into your memory. Warmth floods you, a brief discomfort but you decide to worry about it later, melting into the kiss.
When you part, he’s already panting, forehead pressed to yours and your nose scrunches when the sweaty strands of his hair tickle your brow. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
“Yeah.” Issei sighs, resting on your shoulder for a moment before he speaks, “You don’t know how much I had to bribe Makki for this.”
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In Control Pt3
Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 End
Warnings: manipulation, toxic relationship, similar themes
. . .
You’re working in sync with Tommy, a harmonious dance while you construct the cobblestone tower together. It’s necessary to work quickly, before the others arrive and start yelling at you. You don’t blame them, a small part of you finding the towers quite ugly. But, you could never say ‘no’ to your younger brother’s antics. When you place a block, he mimics the action on the other side. The tower erects quickly, staring across the lands in no time. You pause to admire your work, enjoying how the cool breeze pushes against your skin and ruffles your feathers gently.
“Just a few more levels and then we’re done!” Tommy cheers obviously happy with his creation. You laugh at his excitement, finding it adorable. From below a voice yells out to the pair. The wind doesn’t carry the sound, making the person yell once more, this time a bit louder.
“Get down here you two! Lunch is almost ready.” Techno’s monotone voice calls out. He stands in the snow, red cape sticking out against the background. He huffs, turning back to the house. He doesn’t bother to wait in the cold, knowing it could be a while.
You turn to Tommy, adrenaline soaring in your veins. With excitement, you call out to the younger brother: “I’ll race you down!” He grins, accepting the idea. He dashes, taking two steps at a time down the stairs. You’re about to join him, until another breeze pushes against your body. You glance down, feathers twitching with the thought.
Taking a few steps back, you rush forward jumping off the top of the tower. Your wings stretch out completely while you fall. You laugh childishly, feeling the wind push against your body once more. A shift in wind makes you wobble a bit while gliding down, but it doesn’t affect you too much. You land somewhat roughly into the snow, stumbling a little on the impact. You’d gladly do that again even with the small pain it brings to your ankles.
“No fair!” Tommy shouts, almost out of breath from running down the entire tower. He pants, throwing a playful glare in your direction. Once he’s caught his breath, he walks up to you and abruptly pushes you into the snow pile. While you’re recovering, he runs past you.
“You never said the race was over!” Laughing, you run after him. Sadly, he makes it to the front door before you do, already in the process of celebrating his win. With a huff, you yank him closer to rub your knuckles into his hair. He struggles against your grip, spewing curses. You let him go, once done, snickering at his appearance. Tommy shouts at you, hands trying to fix his hair.
You simply ignore his insults, moving past the younger brother to the kitchen. Techno sits at the table, already eating. Wilbur sits atop the counter, also eating. Seems as if you and Tommy are the last to arrive.
You greet the others, still pushing against Tommy with your shoulder. He pushes back, using all of his weight in an attempt to shove you down. You reach around him, grabbing a plate and smacking it lightly against his head. He shouts, but takes it reluctantly from you. You grab yourself a plate as well.
You join the others at the table, ignoring the feeling of a stare on your back. In seconds, your dad sits across from you, not looking happy.
“What was that stunt you pulled?” You’re midway through a bite, pausing to look at Philza. He doesn’t touch the food on his plate, his arms crossed angrily. You finish chewing before responding.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about! You jumped off the side of the tower.” You sigh, realizing where this conversation is going. You take another bite of the food, knowing he will ramble for a bit. “When will you stop being reckless? Your wings aren’t even healed yet and you’re doing stuff like this.”
“It’s not a big deal dad. My primary feathers are almost back, I can at least glide.” He doesn’t look satisfied with the answer, leaning back into his chair. He opens his mouth to continue his speech but is cut off by someone else.
“Y’know it’s been months and you still haven’t told us what happened.” Techno interrupts the argument with his thoughts, directing his attention to your figure. You freeze in your seat, wings ruffling behind you.
“I don’t want to talk about this.” You mumble, pushing the food around your plate. You’re not hungry anymore. It's been months, you should be over it, but you’re not. You’re still haunted by the moment in your dreams and constantly wake up fearing that both your wings are gone. You haven’t told the others, how could you?
“You should at least tell us, you’ll have to at some point.” Technoblade doesn’t drop the subject, not sensing your distance to the subject. You swallow some spit, throat feeling constricted.
“Now hold on Tech, we can’t force them to talk about this.” Wilbur is the voice of reason, as always in the situation. He glances between you and the others. He can see how tense you are about the situation, wings sticking out behind you awkwardly. Philza doesn’t voice his opinion, partially agreeing with both of the brothers. Tommy stays silent.
“I just think it would be useful information to know.” The eldest brother grunts to himself, displeased with the others' disagreement. You’re beginning to space out barely paying attention to what they are saying, instead focusing on keeping your breathing calm.
“He’s right, dear. We can be of more help if you just let us know more about the situation.” Philza tries to reason without coming off as too pushy. But, you can’t listen to this anymore. You stand up quickly, the chair squeaking as it scraps against the wooden floor. Mumbling an apology and a basic excuse, you leave the table. The others call out for you, some standing and following close behind.
You swing the front door open, ready to retreat only to run into something or rather someone. You back away quickly, tensing up, when you spot Dream in front of you. His mask is off for once, letting you see his face and every expression he makes. His eyes quickly check over your body, reassuring himself that it is you, before he takes action. He reaches out, pulling his hand back when you flinch. He mumbles your name to himself, looking worried.
You feel frozen in place, heart practically leaping out of your chest in fear. You’re supposed to be safe here, with your family. But, he still found you.
“I’m so glad I found you. I’ve been looking all over for you!” He smiles softly, a hand tucking into his pocket.
“Who is at the door?” You hear Philza call out from inside the house, his voice making you shiver. You feel crowded, surrounded, caged at the moment. There isn’t an escape, your family inside or Dream outside. With a dry throat, you push past the male and make your way outside. You can hear him call after you, his boots crunching against the snow below.
A gloved hand lands on your shoulder, but you shake it off roughly.
“Where are you going? I came all this way to find you, and you’re running away!”
“I didn’t ask for you to come find me.” You seethe, not turning around to look at him. Your wings bunch up behind you, feathers sticking out angrily. You can hear Dream huff behind you, obviously not liking your answer.
“Look, I need to apologize.” Before he even begins monologuing, you spin around angrily. You stalk up to him, shoving him back harshly.
“Apologize? Apologize! For what, Dream? For controlling my life? For making me leave my friends? For cutting my wings or each time you hit me? Or, how about when you’d make it seem like everything was my fault?” You scream at him, wings puffing up in response. He scowls, gaze darkening with each sentence you spew. His fists clench by his side and he looks as if he is about to raise his hand but catches himself. He tucks them into his pockets, harshly twisting the fabric under his grip.
“You’re blowing this out of proportion. Why can’t you see that?” He leans back on his heels casually, trying to prove his point. You take a deep breath in, muscles tensing up. A nearby crunch of the snow, catches the pair’s attention. They both turn to see the family standing outside, listening in on the conversation. Your wings drop with realization.
Philza takes a step forward, his wings tucking behind him. “What does he mean? How do you know him?” His expression is dry, obviously not wanting to hear the truth. Dream laughs next to you, turning to face the others.
“Oh? You don’t know?” His tone is sharp, snark dripping off of it. He glances back at you, ignoring your worried expression. “You didn’t tell them, love?” You stay silent, watching him carefully. He rolls his eyes and turns back around to speak with your family.
“We are dating.”
“We are not dating.” You’re fast to interrupt Dream, obviously telling where he’s taking this. The others mumble amongst each other at the news.
“You never broke up with me.” He raises an eyebrow, a sickly smile on his face.
“I didn’t think I needed to, since you did this.” You gesture to your wings, primary feathers twitching slightly. They aren’t completely grown back, but will reach their full size soon enough.
“Oh, honey. You did that to yourself.” He sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets again. He tilts his head, speaking to you in a light tone. “If you just come back with me, I won’t be angry.” He takes a step forward, making you take one back. “We can go back home, to our lives. How it used to be. Don’t you miss those moments we spent together?”
He reaches for your hands, holding them tighter when you provide a little resistance. “You said that you love me, this is the least you could do.” Numerous thoughts flood your mind, but you shake them off and pull away from his grip.
“I take that back.” You step away from him, wings stretching out in aggression. “We aren’t dating, not anymore. I don’t want to see you ever again.” He glares, cracking his knuckles when his fists clench.
“I suggest you leave.” You practically growl, not wanting to see him again. Technoblade steps forward, reminding you both of his presence. He draws a sword, repeating your command to the green-clad man. He grunts.
Dream backs away, putting his mask back on. The mask moves towards you, it’s carved eyes harrowing. “I’ll be back. You’ll regret this.” With his final warning, Dream leaves. You stare at his retreating figure, not relaxing until he is out of sight. With a sigh, you turn back, tensing up under the gaze of your family. They’re silent, having seen the entire conversation go down. Your wings wrap around you in mock support as you sink into them.
“Are you kidding me?” Tommy is the first to speak, his voice loud. The others try to calm him down, but he bats away their attempts. “No, are you seriously kidding me? You were dating Dream! That bastard took one of my canon lives, he ruined our lives!” His face is red with anger, his yelling only getting louder. He doesn’t wait to hear your response, taking off back inside.
Wilbur follows after him, not without shooting a glare in your direction. He closes the door behind him, the slam echoing across the tundra. You slouch, directing your attention to your shoes. The other two approach you slowly. There’s so many things they want to say, but nothing leaves their mouths. Philza pulls you into a tight hug, unexpectedly.
“I’m sorry. That I wasn’t there for you, that this happened.” He holds you closer, wings tucking around your own. Techno doesn’t join in the hug, instead putting his arm around your shoulder in some strange form of comfort.
“They’ll come around soon enough, it’s not like you knew.” Your older brother tries to reason, casting a look back to the house. You don’t respond, instead backing out of the hug. Philza reluctantly lets you go, obviously worried with your lack of reaction.
“Thanks, but I need some time alone.” They look at each other, wanting to stop you. But, you’re already leaving. Where to, isn’t exactly clarified, but it is far enough from the house and the others. You walk until the tundra changes to plains. Until your legs feel weak and until the sun sets. You’ll return to the house soon enough but not yet. You aren’t ready to see the angry expressions on your brothers’ faces or the pity they want to give. How are you supposed to leave your past behind, when it keeps reappearing?
With a solemn mood, you take cover in a nearby cave. You climb a ledge, far above the ground level so no monsters can reach you. Except for, perhaps, spiders but they’ll just leave you alone at the sight of your wings. You lean up against the wall, tucking your head into your arms. Your wings cover your body as a makeshift blanket, preparing you for a night alone with your thoughts.
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one good movie kiss
here for @sunforgrace 's thesis statement: give dean one good movie kiss and he WILL be alright
“Are you avoiding me?”
Dean’s hand stills in the air above his cup of coffee as the voice cuts through the kitchen.
Cas is standing in the middle of the room in an ill-fitting sweater and his hair is dishevelled as though he’s been tossing and turning. He looks so unremarkable, so human, it makes Dean’s breath catch in his throat at the reminder.
It’s been three days since Cas got back and it occurs to Dean when he speaks that it’s the first time they’ve been alone together. Awake, that is: Dean realised early on that difficult conversations couldn’t happen if you’re asleep. Thank god for Cas’ Empty-rescue hangover.
“No. I’m not avoiding you.”
“OK. Good. I was worried that after what happened things might be weird between us, but I suppose that’s unavoidable.” Cas pulls a face that’s a little self-deprecating.
I’m fighting the urge to run the hell away from you, Dean thinks. To stay the hell away from you before I do anything else to hurt you. Before you make a reckless decision to save me, again, or say something so brutal and true that my legs give out from under me and I’m left sitting alone on the floor wondering how the hell I’m supposed to do this on my own.
I’m fighting the urge to wrap you in my arms and never let go.
“I’m not avoiding you, Cas. I just.. I’m trying to figure out the stuff I have to say to you.”
“I understand. I know everything that’s happened recently is a lot to contend with.”
“Yeah, that’s an understatement.” Dean coughs and stands up, tapping his hands against his legs for something to do. Cas is looking at him expectantly and Dean knows he deserves answers but how is he supposed to do that? How do you even begin to explain to someone that their mere presence in the room has your breath hitching? “But it’s not.. you. It’s not you I’m avoiding. It’s just. Y’know. The stuff you said before you..” He doesn’t say it. He can’t. Cas blinks.
“Don’t apologise. That’s – god, that’s the last thing I want. I’m just.. trying to get my head around it.”
“I meant it.”
“I know you did. I know that. I just.. I believe you, and nobody’s ever really said that stuff to me and meant it before. So I don’t really know how to talk to you about it. But I.. so long as you know I appreciate it.” The words are too fast and Dean doesn’t know if that’s more or less embarrassing than the way he’s stumbling, pathetic half-words forcing their way out of his mouth.
And it’s that simple to him, apparently. He doesn’t ask Dean for anything else. It pisses Dean off, actually – he wants Cas to ask him. Maybe if he’s forced to confront it the words might come out a little easier.
“I mean, you know that I.” Dean stops again abruptly and jesus christ why is there a lump in his throat? “It means something. To me. It means a whole lot, actually. Maybe if it didn’t it’d be easier to talk about. There’s stuff that I wanna.. stuff I need for you to hear. That you deserve to hear, when I get my head out of my ass. Because I don’t feel like I deserve any of that crap you said to me, but you deserve to hear things back.”
It feels like a monumental admission but it’s clearly not the thing on Cas’ mind as he frowns.
“You think you don’t deserve that? You really believe that?”
“Honestly? I’ve never believed it. I don’t know why you give me the time of day half the time, man. And you don’t have to.. argue about it, or anything. I know you want to. It’s just how I see it.”
Cas thinks about that for a couple of seconds, eyes boring into Dean so deeply he half-wonders if he can’t still see his soul. He walks further into the room but doesn’t approach Dean – not really. Just takes a couple of steps between the distance.
“I won’t argue. Not now. But I hope I can make you understand that you deserve it. Happiness, peace.. love-” The word has Dean’s mind reeling, flashbacks and heat rushing “– I spent a long time believing I couldn’t accept them for myself. I thought too much had happened, or that I wasn’t built to be capable. You allowed me to think differently. I want you to do the same.” Cas looks down and taps his hand on the edge of the table as though he hasn’t got Dean’s heart in the palm of it. He looks up again and his expression is breath-takingly earnest. “Dean, the things I said barely touch the sides. I don’t know if I could ever put into words the impact you’ve had on me since we met. I just wanted you to understand. I needed you to understand how other people see you, even if you can’t see it for yourself.”
“Message received.” Dean responds like a fucking asshole but Cas smiles all the same, warm and knowing and in a way that fills Dean with the relief of being understood.
“I can give you space to think about things if that’s what you want. I know I’ve put you in a difficult position.”
“It’s not difficult. Probably not for anyone else except me.”
Dean smiles in derision and Cas returns it but it’s pity and sadness and love and Dean’s mouth closes. “It was difficult. I threw things at you that’d been on my mind for a long time and didn’t give you any time to process it.”
“I’ve had weeks. Weeks and weeks, and I still can’t.. I think until I saw you again I had no idea how to understand it. Looking you in the eye and thinking about it-” Dean closes his eyes and pushes away black ooze and secrets and everything else that threatens to flow over the things he wants to remember. Tears in Cas’ eyes and his smile so bright, brighter than Dean even thought him capable.
He’s looking at him now like he might break.
“I’m sorry, Cas. I know I’m not-”
“I know exactly what you are, Dean.” The words are clear and sincere and Dean wonders if there’s anyone else in the universe capable of arresting him so simply. “I’ll leave you to it.” Cas eventually nods at Dean’s breakfast and smiles, dipping his head as he starts to leave.
“We’ll talk. We will.”
“I know we will.” He smiles a little as he turns to walk away and suddenly Dean’s heart is in his mouth at the sight of the back of his head.
Say something. Say something.
“Cas.” Dean calls too quickly, too desperately, and when he turns to look at him with naked expectation all of the wind is knocked right back out of his sails. “I… fuck, Cas. I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
He smiles with complete and utter sincerity, and god he has to stop doing that. Stop accepting Dean’s bullshit as though it’s nothing. Shout, argue, anything.
He’s leaving. He’s still leaving, he’s turning away and suddenly Dean’s legs are propelling him through the kitchen of their own accord.
Dean grabs his arm and yanks him around, the force of it making Cas briefly stumble a little before he straightens his feet and looks at Dean with a wide-eyed confusion that makes Dean’s heart hammer in his chest.
Dean brings his hands up to cup Cas’ face around his ears on his neck and jaw, in a way he has before and convinced himself wasn’t ever possible when they weren’t battling life or death. Cas’ stubble is a little longer than usual and he strokes the line of it with his thumb, watching as Cas’ mouth falls open just a touch in the echoing silence.
Dean takes his time, registering every mini-movement of expression in Cas’ face as he understands what’s happening. His hand comes up to Dean’s wrist but doesn’t push it away, rather grips it for dear life as though he’s afraid it’s going to disappear. When Cas’ eyes travel down his face Dean takes it as invitation and closes the gap between them, pressing his lips lightly but surely against Cas’.
At first Cas’ are stunned frozen against his and Dean starts to panic that he’s made some kind of earth-shattering error in judgement before the hand on his wrist relaxes and he feels a pressure against his mouth. Cas’ lips are a little chapped, like always, and Dean feels his eyelashes flutter.
He opens his eyes reluctantly as he pulls away, not sure what he’s expecting to see (rejection? Lucifer? nothing at all?) and almost slams them shut again when he finds Cas peering at him with such utter arresting devotion he thinks his knees might buckle.
Dean’s hands drop to his sides of their own accord, suddenly absolutely terrified, but Cas doesn’t move away in return. In fact, he brings his hand to Dean’s cheek and Dean’s sure he must look like a fish opening and closing his mouth in stunned silence before suddenly Cas moves in to kiss him again, other hand coming up to grab his face and hold him in place as his lips are ferocious and impassioned against his own.
And this, this is more like it, Dean’s barely able to think as Cas’ mouth opens and his tongue plays along the line of Dean’s own lips, his heart hammering in his chest as he hears a noise in Cas’ throat as he allows him entrance.
Cas kisses like he’s never going to get another chance: like Dean has granted him a once-in-a-lifetime wish that’s going to get taken away at any moment. He’s hungry and sharp and warm and Dean feels breathless as he lowers his hands from his face to his neck and then to his hip, pulling Dean sharply against him as Dean’s own hands cup his jaw and try desperately to gain a semblance of control.
There’s stubble scratching his face and he tries fleetingly to explain away the flushing burn on his skin as a by-product of it, but then there’s a hand riding up his shirt onto on the bare skin at the small of his back and it’s on fire.
Where the hell did Cas learn to kiss like this? His head is spinning before he can ponder the question and fingers on his back are steady and grounding even as Cas’ tongue and lips and breath have him practically able to feel the earth spinning beneath him.
The kiss slows steadily and then all at once as Cas’ lips lighten against his, and he feels him exhale against his skin in a release that Dean himself is desperate for. He knows it’ll come, eventually: in every moment he allows himself to open like this, touch on his skin making him feel alive.
Cas pulls away and Dean feels a longing form deeply and harshly in his throat that barely stops him from yanking him straight back in again. He forces himself to open his eyes, wondering if Cas can see water pricking in the corners of them.
“Don’t give me space, Cas. I don’t want it.” He manages to say though his voice sounds foreign and weird to his own ears, like it’s formed by someone else. There’s that smile on Cas’ lips again and he feels a desperation to say something, anything, that’ll keep it frozen in time. “Just stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know.” Cas’ own voice is quiet now and Dean’s fingers somehow find themselves reaching out towards Cas’ hand, pulling it a little.
“You wanna do something today?” He says, just for something to say. Anything to prolong the moment.
“Sweet.” Dean nods and tips his head away, running a hand through his hair to try to gain some composure as Cas smiles at him as though nothing’s happened.
Dean has to pinch himself to check that it has.
510 notes · View notes
snapshot | jhs x reader
summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love
pairing: hoseok x reader
genre: fluff, smut, fluff OH MY GOD SO MUCH FLUFF y'all i apologize
word count: 4.7K
notes: this fic is a commission fic for the lovely @wwilloww as part of the @armyadvocates fundraising initiative to stop hate crimes against AAPI. miss willow asked for an old house, candles and soft smut as well as a mystery box. i did my best to deliver on all counts because willow is amazing and deserves all good things.
thanks go to @hobi-gif @ladyartemesia and @btsarmy9593 for beta reading parts of this story, thanks so much for keeping me on track ladies! a very special shoutout to @sahmfanficbts who helped me come up with a very *key* part of this plot.
warnings: no one dies? no one is in danger of dying? who am i? standard smut, unprotected sex. liberal sunscreen use. low air quality due to paint fumes and sawdust. references to yoongi, who we can assume is cranky offscreen, references to @untaemedqueen first suggestion of what was in the box.
Hoseok is so warm right now, inside and out. He stretches his long body out on the length of his beach lounger, enjoying the feeling of the sun beating down on his skin. His buzz is mellow and pleasant. He lets his eyes drift shut, lulled into a lazy calm by the sounds he can hear all around him.
The steady lap of the waves against the shore. Kids laughing as they run around on the sand. Off in the distance, a bluetooth speaker thumps out a song that’s too far away for him to recognize. And after a few minutes, another sound.
Your bright laughter, carried to him on the breeze.
God, he loves that sound.
“You are such a lightweight,” you tease. Hoseok can hear the smile in your voice. “Two beers and you pass out on me.”
He cracks one eye open to find you standing beside his lounger. The early evening sunlight streams through the strands of your dark hair and warms your bronzed skin, bathing you in a kind of golden halo. He gazes up at you, languid and content.
“I’m not passed out,” he argues with a slow grin. “I’m relaxing. Come relax with me.”
Hoseok doesn’t give you a chance to accept his offer, leaning up to grab your hand and pull you down into the narrow space beside him. You laugh when he wraps his arms and legs around you like a starfish, pulling your back flush against his chest.
“I’m just enjoying the perfect day,” he murmurs, nosing at the back of your ear, “With my perfect girl.”
Hoseok can’t see you rolling your eyes, but he knows you’re doing it anyway. Just like he can’t see the way you flush and he knows you’re doing that, too.
“We should eat,” you say after a while, shivering when he strokes the pads of his fingers up the soft skin of one bare leg. “Grab something before we have to take the bikes back.”
Hoseok hums under his breath as he slides his palm up the curve of your thigh, boldly searching for trouble under the hem of your sundress. You bat his hand away and he laughs, hugging you tighter.
“Alright,” he agrees in a whisper, ghosting his lips down the nape of your neck. You jolt in his arms when he sinks his teeth into the curve of your shoulder, nipping playfully. “Just a quick bite.”
There’s not much difference between a sundress and a négligée is there?
Certainly not from where Hoseok is sitting, anyway.
He studies you as he rides close behind, watching the way your hair whips in the breeze as you pedal. One delicate sundress strap slips down your sun-warmed shoulder, exposing just a bit more of your back. Then the wind grabs a hold of your sheer skirt, lifting it just long enough for Hoseok to get a glimpse of the pretty white panties underneath.
God, he loves those panties.
Could stare at them all day, really.
But instead he forces himself to pedal faster and take the lead, grinning when you take note of his advance and glare. It’s for the best because while you think this is just some meandering evening ride, he’s the only one who knows where you’re really headed. For the best because if he falls off his bike and breaks his face because he’s too busy staring at your ass, the entire night will be ruined before it has the chance to start.
It’s quiet on this street just a few blocks from the shore.
Dolmeori Beach is rockier, more wooded than the beaches preferred by most tourists and that’s always suited Hoseok just fine. When he was a kid, he’d steal away when the weather was warm and hop the train here from Gwangju any chance he got.
It’s always felt like his place, his personal piece of sea and sand.
Pine trees loom high over the pavement, canopies so dense they block out much of the waning sunlight streaming down from above. The shade beneath the leaves makes the heat bearable, but it also makes it hard to judge the time. Hoseok steals a quick look at his watch.
Right on schedule. He hopes Yoongi followed his instructions to the letter.
“Hurry up, slowpoke,” he teases over his shoulder, and he chuckles at the sound of frustration you make as you pedal faster to catch up. It takes a few seconds for you to coast into position at his side.
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” you fuss, “Wanna clue me in?”
Hoseok turns his head to smile at you, sly like a fox.
“You’ll find out when we get there.”
The realtor had said the place would need a little love.
Turns out, it needs a lot more than a little. But Hoseok was able to see right past the weathered wooden porch and salt air-worn paint right away. When he found this place online, he knew it was the one.
He slows his bike to a stop as the two of you make your approach, taking note of the warm light that glows just behind the frosted glass pane in the front door. Looks like Yoongi came through.
“What is this place?” you ask, skidding to a stop beside him. You stand over your bike on tiptoes as you survey the house, brow knit in confusion.
“It’s a surprise,” Hoseok grins, hopping off his bike. He shoves the kickstand into place and offers you his hand, which you accept with a suspicious smile. “Wanna go in?”
“Yeah sure,” you shrug. “We’ve probably already stolen these bikes. What’s a little breaking and entering on top of that?”
Hoseok laughs, leading the way to the front door.
He cringes when the porch floorboards creak loudly beneath his feet, making a mental note to put that project next on his to-do list. You stand with arms crossed, watching silently as he crouches down to lift the mat at the front door, fingers feeling beneath for the concealed key.
You stop him with fingers wrapped around his forearm when he gets to his feet.
“Wait,” you whisper frantically. “We can’t just walk into someone’s house, Hoseok.”
He chuckles before leaning down to kiss the adorable confusion right off your face. Then he slides his key into the lock and pushes the door wide open.
“Not someone’s house,” he corrects, watching you peer skeptically inside.
You step slowly through the threshold and scan the candle-lit front room before turning to him with wide eyes.
“You bought a beach house.”
It’s the third time you’ve said it by now, and not once has the hushed observation been directed at Hoseok. You said it when you brushed your fingertips over the freshly-dried spackle on the living room wall, said it again as you passed your hand over the base coat of stain on the mantle over the fireplace.
You say it again as you turn to him, jaw slack with disbelief.
“You bought a beach house.”
“Yeah,” Hoseok admits sheepishly, uncertain of your reaction. He tries to see the room the way you must see it now, candles and tools scattered across the tables, floors covered in drop cloths, cans of paint and plaster stacked up in the corners.
Yoongi had done a decent job of clearing up most of the clutter before he left, but judging by the astonishment on your face, he’s probably been romanticizing the mess in here.
He’d really hoped to have a lot more done the first time he brought you here, but he’s learned the hard way that some home renovation projects don’t go as smoothly in real life as they do on YouTube. The process has been a bit of trial and error, with a lot more error than he’d originally counted on.
“I know it doesn’t look like a whole lot right now,” he says, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, “But it’s going to look great when I’m done. Yoongi helped me sand all week.”
You shake your head like you’re coming out of a daze.
“Oh my god Hoseok, no -- ” you vow with a shaky laugh, “ -- no, this is incredible. This is amazing. I’m in shock.”
“Yeah?” Hoseok grins, relief melting over him. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted -- ”
“ -- Wait,” you interrupt, one brow quirked high as you step closer. “You said… you said something important. You said this was our house.”
You narrow your dark eyes at him and he chuckles uncomfortably, nerves kicking in for the first time tonight. The feeling -- and the occasion both call for more booze. Which he’s prepared for.
“Are you going to give me a tour?” you ask.
“Later,” he says. “After.”
“After what, Hoseok? You’re killing me slowly with all this suspense.”
“Hang out here for a second,” he instructs, ducking into the small kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”
It takes him no time at all to find the bottle of Moet he’s stashed in the fridge and the clean champagne flutes tucked away into the corner of his dutifully-dusted kitchen cabinet. He double-checks the contents of the box on the counter, making sure everything is in place.
Then he takes a deep breath.
Your brows lift in surprise when he walks back into the room with that box in his hands. You watch him set it down on the floor, saying nothing when he turns back to retrieve the champagne and glasses.
When he finally returns, you’re on your knees -- examining the package. Lips pursed thoughtfully as you press your fingers to the gold flecks on the fabric lid.
“Hoseok,” you whisper, flicking your gaze up to find his. “I have so many questions right now.”
You look so damned beautiful in this candlelight -- like you brought your golden glow from the beach indoors. Like you absorbed the sun’s rays and you’re emitting them now like some kind of superpower.
“Have a drink with me,” he murmurs, “And I’ll answer them.”
Something in the room shifts then; the temperature changes. The silly fun of the afternoon evaporates, leaving behind something heavy and heady. Hoseok knows you feel it too, when your half-smile slowly drops and you pull your lower lip between your teeth.
“Okay,” you agree softly, “Let’s have a drink.”
You watch him with those focused dark eyes as he pops the champagne. The drink bubbles over the lip of both flutes as he pours, on account of his haste and shaky hands. Then you take one of the glasses in hand and offer him the other, which he quickly accepts.
“To this surprise housewarming,” you declare, raising your flute for a toast.
Hoseok clinks his glass against yours, taking note of the way you watch him carefully over the lip of your glass as you’re tilting back the flute to take a sip. He decides he can’t keep you -- or himself -- in suspense any longer.
“You know how special you are to me, right?”
You make a face.
“Did you bring me to your new house to break up with me?”
Hoseok’s startled laugh turns into a cough and tears prick his eyes as champagne bubbles blaze a path up his sinuses.
“Yes,” he says dryly, once he’s managed to collect himself. “I figured dumping you by candlelight sounded like the most romantic option.”
You tip your head back when you laugh, light playing off the curve of your neck, your collarbones, the tiny gold pendant that sits in the pretty dip at the base of your throat.
God, he loves your skin.
Hoseok looks at you long and hard before lifting his flute to take a long drink.
“This is for you,” he says quietly, acknowledging the box out loud for the first time.
“What’s in it?”
“A human head,” Hoseok snorts, flinching when you reach over to pinch his leg. “Don’t be a pain. Just open it.”
Your eyes light with excitement as you smooth your hands over the lid and Hoseok can’t help but smile. But your excitement turns into confusion the moment you open the box and find the neat row of plain white envelopes inside.
“What is this?”
“Quit asking me questions,” Hoseok deadpans, pouring himself another drink. He tops off your glass, too. “And start at the front.”
You shake your head with a wry smile as you work the first envelope open, slipping your fingers in between the paper folds to fish out the contents inside. Hoseok sips his champagne as you produce the polaroid photo, head cocked to the side as you study it.
It was cold that day, he remembers that. You’d been bundled up in a pretty scarf and matching belted coat. In the photo, the mid-morning sun flares behind you, illuminating your profile as you squint up at a display of laminated menus.
“This is me,” you murmur, mouth quirking into a disbelieving smile, “At the coffee truck outside of work.”
“We’d just started dating.”
“How did you take this without me noticing?”
“Easy,” Hoseok laughs. “You stared at that menu for five minutes straight. I’ve never seen someone take coffee selection so seriously. Thought you were gonna order the most complicated drink in history.”
You roll your eyes but you laugh. So does he.
“Turn it over.”
You flip the polaroid over in your hands, eyes moving over the neat block handwriting on the back.
coolest girl i ever met
“This is the day I knew I liked you,” Hoseok murmurs, “Like, really liked you.”
Your eyes are a bit glassy when you look up at him now, the corner of your mouth tugging into a soft smile.
“You were that sure that fast, huh?”
“Yeah,” he admits, scratching self-consciously at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I was.”
You move onto the next envelope, this time prepared when you pull out yet another polaroid picture. This one is harder to place, taken in the dark, mostly black but for a few splashes of vivid light.
“I don’t know this one,” you frown, ghosting your finger across one particularly colorful blur of red and gold. “I can’t make it out.”
You turn the polaroid over, looking once again for Hoseok’s neat block letters.
she’s into me
You laugh out loud.
“That was the lantern festival in Cheonggyecheon,” Hoseok explains. “I’d invited you, but you’d had plans, remember? And I was just going to get Yoongi to go with me but you called me last minute to say you’d decided to come.”
“I remember,” you say with a smile. “Yeri invited me to a movie, but I cancelled on her. I wanted to hang out with you instead.”
“Yeah, well that’s the night I knew you really liked me.”
“Cocky,” you smirk, reaching for another envelope. “But warranted.”
Your eyes light with recognition the moment you pull the next picture out. You’re crouched down at the edge of his mother’s koi pond, one finger making ripples on the surface of the water.
“First time we ever went to Gwangju together,” you muse quietly. “First time I met your parents.”
You flip the polaroid over.
pretty sure my mom loves her more than she loves me
“Okay, this might actually be true,” you tease, taking a sip of your champagne. “Your mom and dad love me.”
“Yeah, well that was the day I decided I loved you, too,” Hoseok chuckles. “The point where I kind of knew there was no turning back.”
You look up from the photograph then, eyes glassy with emotion when they find his. Candlelight flickering across your face as you look at him fondly.
“You still feel that way?”
“Hell yeah, I do,” he laughs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Keep going.”
The next polaroid is a selfie of Hoseok in bed but it’s by no means sexual. There are dark circles under his eyes and his skin has a sallow tint. Next to his pillow, the bedside table is littered with cold medicine and empty cups.
“Is this when you had the flu?” you ask, flipping the polaroid over. The neat block lettering on the back confirms your theory.
she took care of me
“You were so pitiful,” you laugh, shaking your head at the memory. “Wrapped up in your blankets like a burrito. I swear, men have zero tolerance for discomfort.”
“I nearly died,” Hoseok protests dramatically. “But you dropped everything to come take care of me. That’s the day I knew you loved me, too.”
Your smile is brilliant now, open and sweet as you reach for the last remaining envelope. Hoseok takes another swig of champagne, slugging it down as you pull out the polaroid and study the image.
You are wearing your delicate sundress, leaned up against the wooden railing that separates the sand and rocks. Standing just next to your bike, nose in the air as you breathe in the salt carried on the wind.
“This is today,” you murmur, brows knitting together when you flip the picture over and find the back side blank. “And you haven’t written anything here.”
“Yeah, well,” Hoseok starts and stops, clearing his throat. “I haven’t had a chance to write it in yet.”
“That’s the day I asked you to marry me.”
You blink. Once, then again. Hoseok can hear the shaky breath you take in when your mouth parts in surprise. He sets his champagne flute down, sufficiently bolstered by the booze.
“So that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m asking you to marry me.”
You’re still mute with shock, eyes wide as they go from Hoseok to the picture and back to Hoseok again.
“But uh, the longer you don’t say anything, the less confident I feel about this entire plan,” he chuckles awkwardly.
You take him off balance when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your thighs around his waist. He keeps you both from toppling over with a palm flat to the floor, laughing as you pepper his face with kisses.
“So is that a yes?”
“Yes,” you sigh, pressing your lips to his temple, his neck, his jaw. “Yes. To you and to these amazing pictures and to this beach house. Yes to all of it.”
You pull away from him to grab the champagne, eyes flashing mischievously as you take a drink straight from the bottle. “Yes to champagne, too.”
Hoseok feigns shock. “Naughty.”
You kiss him deeply then, thoroughly, enough for him to feel the remnants of the carbonation on your tongue. You tease him with a barely there roll of your hips and his cock responds instantaneously, at the mercy of the warm friction he can feel straight through the thin material of his board shorts.
“You know what I’m thinking?” you murmur against his mouth.
“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah,” Hoseok chuckles, sucking a breath between his teeth when you bite the skin just below his ear.
“We have a lot to celebrate, right?” you reason, tone light. “But we came here for a housewarming.”
You lean back just far enough to pull your sundress over your head, tossing it carelessly aside, leaving you in nothing but those pretty white panties he loves so much.
“So we should warm it.”
Hoseok grins, pulling the champagne bottle out of your grip. He turns it up just like you did, finishing what’s left before setting it back down.
“I like the way you think.”
The only bedroom in this house is buried beneath a two-inch thick layer of sawdust right now.
Not that making it to a bedroom seems high on your list of priorities.
The fact that you’re both sitting on top of a drop cloth on Hoseok’s living room floor isn’t stopping you from threading your fingers into his hair, slipping your tongue into his mouth, grinding against his lap.
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” you laugh, pressing your bare breasts to his chest once he’s managed to untangle himself from your limbs long enough to shrug out of his shirt. Your pebbled nipples drag across the lithe planes of his chest and his cock jumps in his shorts.
“That’s me,” Hoseok murmurs against your lips, deft fingers slipping beneath the damp cotton between your thighs. He slides the pad of one long finger across your wet slit and you gasp, rocking against it.
“Gotta get you out of these panties,” he laments, pulling one nipple into his mouth and working it with his teeth. You shudder in his hold. “Quick.”
“What are you in such a hurry for?” you tease, circling your hips to chase the perfect pressure of his fingertips. “We have all night.”
“We have about three more minutes if you keep grinding on me like this,” Hoseok laughs, shifting your bodies to lean you back onto the floor. “So give me a break because I want to enjoy this.”
You lie back for him dutifully, dark hair spilling onto the drop cloth around you, skin gleaming in the candlelight. Your gold pendant twinkles at the base of your neck.
God, he loves the way you look like this.
Flushed with excitement and anticipation. Like a feast laid out just for him. He rids himself of those pesky board shorts as fast as he can, leaning over you on hands and knees.
“You’re gonna marry me,” he muses, burying his face into the soft skin under your jaw. “You already said yes, can’t take it back now.”
Your laughter is echoing in his ears as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, across the bronzed planes of your shoulder. He can taste the day on your skin; the ocean salt and sunscreen mixed with that flavor that’s so uniquely you.
“I don’t want to take it back,” you sigh, whimpering when Hoseok kisses a path down the velvety skin between your breasts. He travels lower, kissing just below your bellybutton as he starts working your panties off with one hand. “I’m gonna keep you.”
Hoseok chuckles as he tosses your panties away, off to somewhere unimportant. What’s important is the way you take a deep breath and hold it when his mouth hovers coyly over your cunt.
“Look at me,” he directs, peering up at you from beneath heavy eyelids. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, candlelight dancing over your pretty face.
“I love you,” he breathes, lowering his mouth to make contact with your clit. The air leaves your lungs in that moment, a soft exhalation of air that makes the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end.
“I love you too,” you sigh, hips jerking at the contact, fingers digging hard into his hair. “So much.”
He knows you by now, knows how you like to be touched. Your rhythmic panting goes a bit ragged, when he slides two fingers into your cunt, crooking up to stroke you the way you like while his mouth works your clit.
God, he loves this part.
The part where you lose any semblance of control. The desperate sounds you make when you start to come apart beneath his mouth and hands.
“Hoseok -- “ your voice is strangled when you call out, “ -- Hobi, I’m gonna come.”
Something about the way you say his name goes straight to his dick. He grits his teeth when your nails dig almost painfully into his scalp as you start to tremble, shuddering against his mouth.
“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, pinning your hips down with his strong hands, keeping you from pulling away from the pleasure that borders on pain. “That’s it. Sound so good when you come for me.”
Hoseok stays face first in your cunt, nose and tongue pressed against you, until he’s certain the last wave has come and gone. Between his own legs, his cock pulses painfully, leaking pre-come at the thought of finally being inside of you.
Your body twitches with the aftershocks of your release as he slowly kisses his way up your thighs, your mound, your stomach.
“How was that?” he asks with a teasing tilt to his mouth, stealing your ability to answer when he kisses you deeply, fitting his slim hips between your legs. He reaches down to grab his stiff cock, sliding it across your slick entrance. You clamp your thighs together to tighten the drag and he groans at the friction.
“Amazing,” you sigh, dragging your nails over his ass, up the lean muscles of his back. “Perfect. You should let me return the favor.”
His dick practically jumps at the suggestion, stomach contracting hard at the prospect of feeling your pretty mouth wrapped around it. But Hoseok is too worked up, too riled up by the alcohol and the excitement.
“Can’t tonight,” he pants, arousal shooting up his spine when you wrap one hand around his now-wet cock. You pump him lazily, trailing soft bites from his jaw to his shoulder. “Need to be inside of you.”
“Yeah, I’m ready for that too,” you admit, guiding the blunt head of his cock to your entrance.
He surges forward then, pushing past the tight grip of your fingers, groaning as he’s enveloped completely by your warm cunt. You whimper at the stretch, locking your legs around him, gasping when he bottoms out.
He pulls back to the tip only to drive in again, earning another strangled moan. You’re squirming beneath him, breathless and dewy, looking like some kind of wet dream.
“I’ll never get over how good it feels to be inside of you,” Hoseok admits, burying himself as deep as he humanly can into you.
You’re so wet he can feel you spilling out onto the base of his dick and for one fleeting moment he wishes you knew how good this feels for him. How wet and hot and tight you feel around him. How being inside of you like this makes his brain go haywire, reduces him to only instinct and need.
You lift your hips to meet each snap of his, the wet sound of your joining echoing off the walls in this mostly empty house.
He hears you moaning his name in between the other sounds you make, in between the panting and mewling that makes his balls tighten. You grip his forearms as he grinds against you, kissing you in between desperate breaths.
“I think I’m gonna come again,” you gasp against his mouth. “Don’t stop.”
“Oh, fuck,” Hoseok groans, pulling back to get to his knees. He hooks one of your legs over the crook of one strong forearm, using his one free hand to press a thumb to your clit. His rhythm falters as he watches himself slide in and out of you, hypnotized by the sight of his body joined to yours.
You lift your ass off the floor, back arching as you chase the pressure of his fingers. Hoseok strokes you desperately, feeling his orgasm looming menacingly at the base of his cock. It takes just a few more strained pumps of his hips to set you off.
The second he feels you clamp down around him, Hoseok folds back over you, arms braced on either side of you as he thrusts through his own orgasm. He shuts his eyes and groans as he empties his cock inside of you, thrusting until he can’t anymore.
He collapses onto you, heart racing as he tries to catch his breath.
“Don’t leave me,” you groan when Hoseok peels his damp skin away from yours to get to his feet.
He strides across the room, completely nude, grinning when you turn onto your side and go up on one elbow to ogle him.
“Just for a second,” he calls out, pulling out every unorganized drawer in the kitchen until he finally comes across a pen. “Gotta finish something.”
He makes a show of holding it in the air as he walks back into the living room, opening the gold-flecked box, and pulling out the last unmarked polaroid photo.
You’re smiling the entire time you watch him pen the last caption on the last photograph.
she said yes
@japzalileo @dionysusrage @hey-itsmina @myimaginationsrunningwild @hauntedlilies @spring2787 @suppbeccc @veronawrites @minyoongiboongi @katbonv
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Hi pumpkin I absolutely adore you and your work!! I saw that your requests were open but if they are closed already then please ignore this I don’t want to bother! I was wondering if you could do more of a full fic of Remus smut (marauders era) and having the reader in sub space idk I’m a whore for Remus lupin 🥲 but whatever is up to you if you want to add other characters or anything ! Hope you have a good day!!
warnings/content: Remus x fem!reader, facefucking, fingering, squirting, really bad subspace, use of the word daddy, dom!sub relationship, a little bit of face slapping, mentions of spanking, mentions of puking
“I don’t think you could do it.”
“Really, is that so?” Remus raises a dark brow, almost daring you to say more.
“I mean, I know you’ve gotten me there before but it’s never been that bad. I’m able to come back after a few minutes. Never thought you’d be able to push me so far that you’d need to really need to put some true effort into bringing me back.”
“Are you sure you really want to test that boundary, y/n? This isn’t something that you can just say... and then back out of when you don’t feel like being in subspace anymore. S’a lot more serious than you’re making it out to be.” He shifts forward so he’s bracing his weight through his forearms on his knees.
“I dunno, it’s something that I trust you with,” You start, rising to your feet so you can close the distance between the two of you and sink to your knees, allowing the chill from the wood to nip at your kneecaps as you smear your cheek against the inside of his thigh.
It’s an endearing movement, one that pulls a thoughtful smile to Remus’ lips as he straightens his spine to thumb over your cheeks. His are dimpling with the mere thought of having you so vulnerable under his touch as his thumb dips down to brush over your lips until the tip of it is parting them and it’s delving into the warm cavity of your mouth.
“You want me t’make you all nice ‘n sweet, angel? You wanna be a good girl f’daddy, hmm?”
You’re nodding, cheek melting into his open palm as you suckle at his thumb.
“Gonna warm up your throat, alright? Gonna get you all nice ‘n ready f’my cock and then ‘m gonna fuck your tight lil’ pussy, yeah? Then ‘m gonna spank you until your nice is all nice and red f’me, and then try and work you over a few more times, yeah? With my fingers, you want that?”
You’re nodding excitedly against his palm as he pulls away from your heated cheek so he can hook his hands under your arms and pulling you up so you can sit down beside him on the mattress.
“Open up wider f’me, princess. Lemme see that pretty lil’ mouth of yours, yeah? Gonna use m’fingers to warm up your throat, alright?” You’re obliging, slacking your jaw and lolling out your tongue so Remus can turn your head and spit into onto the rouging muscle.
“There we go, poppet. Nice and slick...” The freckled male brings up his hand then, using his pointer and middle finger to draw circles against the back of your tongue before he’s pushing them further, further into your throat until the tips of his long fingers are prodding against the back of it.
The digits are setting your gag reflex ablaze, and as much as you want to move away, you will the tears pricking at your eyes to dissipate and you relax as Remus’ other hand comes back up to cradle the back of your skull to restrict any and all movement.
“Pretty girl, taking my fingers so well.” Remus hums, wiggling his fingers tentatively to gauge your reaction but when you violently gag, he pulls them away so you don’t end up puking all over his fingers.
“Almost done, almost done.” Remus muses, leaning in to brush his lips against the delicate flesh of your cheekbone before he’s pushing them right back in, but this time farther, the hand on the back of your hand so hard and heavy that you can’t budge but an inch.
“That’s a good slut.” Remus croons as if your actions are but a nonchalant manner about which he can chat idly, and he’s grinning an impish grin as you twitch with tense desperation around his slender digits. “There we go, c’mon, just a few seconds now.”
And then those seconds pass and he’s pulling you off his fingers. “What’s my name?”
“I didn’t ask you to stutter. I asked you to say my name.” That mistake has the back of fingers swatting against your right cheek. “Try again.”
“There we go!” Your boyfriend praises you, the words falling from his lips being those laced with a patronizing mockery.
Pearls of saliva are slipping from your swollen lips as your tongue drops out once more, desperate for another round.
“You want more?” A short bark of laughter rumbles from his chest as he drags the pads of his fingers over your crimsoning lips, gathering the little droplets of your saliva before he’s going right back in, and this time he’s able to massage diminutive circles against the back of your gullet without igniting your gag reflex. But then he pulls away.
“Wow, look at you, I think you’re all warmed up f’me, bunny. You ready to take m’prick? You wanna have my cock in your mouth?”
With just his fingers Remus can already see the thin glaze of haziness settling over the pretty hues of your twinkling irises and the sight brings a small smile to his lips. “You said ‘m not very good at this kind of thing, hmm?” He raises an eyebrow, lips pursing to refrain from showing you how arrogant this is making him.
You don’t respond, too heavy a fog settling over your ability to form any comprehensible words.
“Alright then, poppet. Get on the mattress. Your throat is all nice ‘n ready for me to use, yeah? Just like you’re just a couple of holes at my disposal.”
Your actions are slow as you oblige, tucking your feet under your body so you can spin around and follow his wishes. It gives Remus enough time to rise from the cushion of the mattress and position himself above your head, which is dipping down and off the edge of the mattress.
From your upside-down position, you can see the bulging tent in his joggers shift while his slender fingers, some still slick with your saliva, untie the knots so he can pull the sweats down.
“Even from here, I can tell how eager you are.” Remus reflects as he dips down, swiftly moving your wandering hand away from your breasts, at which you were about to knead. “No touching. S’not your fucking body to use.”
With even his words, you can feel arousal dampen the lace material of your knickers as the material of his sweatpants disappears from view and you’re met with the crimson checkering of his boxers.
You find yourself drooling at the mere sight of the large bulge in the constricting fabric and your fingers itch upwards, and before Remus can even fathom to chastise you for your bold decision, your fingers are delving under the band of his boxers and tugging anxiously in a desperate attempt to get them off.
“Alright now, paws off. We’ve barely started and you’re already being a needy little slut.” He’s quick in grappling at your wrists and tugging them away before he leans over to splay your palms obediently against your thighs.
The movement in itself has his clothed cock brushing against your cheek and with such a small action, your back is arching off the cool bedsheets. “No moving, poppet. Wanna be good for daddy, don’t you?”
You’re nodding as Remus finally pulls down his boxers, freeing his hard member from its constraints and it’s so painfully hard that when he does so, it slaps angrily against the muscled planes of his abdomen. The tip is an angry red, swollen with the innate need to be touched.
“Alright, bunny. Open up f’me. Lemme see that pretty tongue of yours.”
You listen, your jaw dropping open before your tongue lolls out, your jaw relaxing with just the right amount of slack that at first glance, Remus can see your uvula.
“Good job, m’love. Gonna fuck your throat so well you’re not gonna be able to talk for hours. Then ‘m gonna use your pussy.”
You’re unable to respond because then he’s fisting at the bottom of his cock and adjusting himself so that he’s able to press through your parted, swollen lips and into the open cavity of your mouth.
You make great haste in pressing the brunt of your tongue against the slit of his cock, suckling at it until beads of his precum are bleeding against your tastebuds and the salty taste has you moaning out around his member.
“Keep your hands still.” Remus orders when he sees your hands twitch to touch his muscled thighs.
Your response is garbled as he pushes forward more, his cock heavy on your tongue as you hollow out your cheeks to provide suction. You try your best to keep your jaw as slack as possible, for in the case he wants to have full reign and use your throat as a vesicle for his orgasm.
And he does just that, his hands come down to curl around the sides of your skull to anchor you in your spot while his hips slowly rock into your open mouth. You can feel the tickle of his happy trail against your chin while an excess of spit builds up around your lips and serves as excess lubrication while he fucks into your throat.
“Just a little hole for me to use.” He sneers angrily as if fucking your mouth is something to be angry about, your nose tickling against his balls with every deep thrust into your throat.
Due to the way Remus had his fingers down your throat just moments earlier, it’s a lot easier for you to get a solid handle on your gag reflex, for now, it is but a dull roar.
It’s most definitely pathetic, the way that spit is coating the apples of your cheeks before it slides down to mess up your makeup until thick globules of black are tainting the rims of your eyes.
You can feel the way Remus’ cock twitches on your tongue when he’s close to his release in addition to the tightening of his balls against your cheek when he finally releases his hold on your cheeks and steps back so you can breathe again.
You suck in lungfuls of air as you sputter through tears, turning over so your navel is splayed against the comforter while bringing up the heels of your hands to rid of the excess makeup that resides there.
When you can glance up through bleary eyes at your boyfriend, Merlin is it a sight to see. His chest is heaving with the strenuous effort of sucking in air while his cock, after having been taunted with the mere prospect of an orgasm, stands pert against his belly. It’s a messy crimson, and if you squint your eyes, you can see the lubrication of your saliva coating his prick in a thin sheen.
“Turn around.” Remus’ request is curt as his teeth sink into his bottom lip, and your head is so foggy that you’re nodding, albeit confused.
“Cause I said so. Don’t ask questions.” He stalks back over to you, while you flip back onto your back and spin so your legs are dangling off the mattress rather than your head.
“Cause I have a pretty little pussy?” The question is supposed innocent, he’s certain of that much, but the way you’ve brought up your thumb to gnaw at the end is pulling a frown onto his lips.
“Yes, poppet. You do. No chewing on your thumb, please. Here. Take m’fingers, puppy. C’mon now.”
While his cock rests upon your navel he leans forward to slip his tongue into your mouth. He doesn’t speak when he pulls his hips away, using his other hand to nudge aside the fabric of his panties so he can finally slip into your slick heat.
You’re so incredibly far gone that it’s quite humorous how quickly he was able to get you there and he hasn’t even touched you yet.
But he doesn’t need to, with the way your arousal is dripping over his fingers as he sheaths himself inside you, his length so snug between your walls that you’re crying out with need.
“I got you, princess. Take my cock, why don’t you? Stop talking and take it.” He sneers, reveling in the feeling of your tongue on his thumb while you clench around his member.
“So sensitive already and you’re already making me feel so fucking good, you little cock whore.” Your boyfriend snarks.
His hips snap into your own with such a hard and heavy fervor that you can feel yourself clenching around his member like a vice, tightening so significantly that you feel the intricate grooves of the veins that run along his cock.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Remus’ chastising nature comes out in a playful bark of laughter. “Loosen up. Can barely move.”
A disgruntled response, although unintelligible, slips from your tongue as you comply, allow Remus movement so he can fuck into your pussy. “You’re gone, aren’t you?”
You’re shaking your head with defiance, fingers latching onto his wrist so you can anchor yourself while his tongue stays flat against your tongue. “Not gone, Daddy. Right here.” You garble around the digit.
Remus scoffs in retaliation as the small tufts of hair from his happy trail graze against your belly and although minimal and barely noticeable, it’s driving you mad. It’s as though every nerve ending has been severed and set alight, and every small touch, graze, movement against your flesh is pushing you further and further into that foggy mindset.
You’re so incredibly sensitive, to the point where the head of his cock is merely grazing against your cervix, and although it’s barely there, you can feel thick, hot tears burning against your rouging cheekbones as you take each and every one of his thrusts.
“Filthy girl.” Remus pulls his thumb from the warmth of your mouth for but a second, and you’re crying out with angry desperation, fingers hovering in mid-air to latch back on but he’s not giving you the chance to.
But you’re soothed when his hand comes down around your jugular, his fingers pressing against the pulsating vein that runs beside your trachea with such skill that black dots are dancing around the outline of your vision, growing bigger with each passing second.
“Daddy’s little fuck doll likes to be fucked, doesn’t she? She likes to be under my rule.”
The way he’s rutting into you like you’re a bitch in heat is pulling you closer and closer to that foreboding edge, one that Remus already tiptoeing across the precipice of.
He gives you no warning, that conceivable, telling twitch between your drenched walls before spurts of his hot seed is spilling from his prick. It’s warm as it bleeds along your core, the feeling in itself pulling you off that edge until you’re cascading into the pearling depths of euphoria below.
Milking himself for all he's worth, Remus’ grip on your jugular tightens twofold, the blue hues of the veins in his hands making a sudden appearance as pornograph grunts spill from his lips. Every thrust is hard, so incredibly forceful that you can feel bruises blossoming against the inside of your thighs.
The lycanthrope pulls away, his member growing flaccid with each passing second as he squats down, fingers hooking around the tops of your thighs so he can pull your hips closer to the edge.
Dripping out of your entrance is a mix of both yours and his release, the milky white substance so suddenly appetizing to him that he’s dipping down, the tip of his tongue pushing past your entrance until the salty mixture is melting over his tastebuds as he laps it all up.
The feeling when he prods at your oversensitive clit has you jolting in surprise, while fretful mewls slip off your tongue. “What did I say about moving?” Remus croons as he noses at the swollen button, tonguing at your folds while he brings up a clammy palm to anchor your torso against the mattress.
“C-Can’t-” The sudden stimulation after such torture on your pussy is antagonizing too much, and you’re struggling against his firm hold against your belly.
“Yes, you can. Gonna get you off one more time.”
“Daddy, please. Hurts so bad.”
“Get over it. You can take it.” Remus sneers, standing up and rising to his full height and shifting so he can get a good angle at your side.
“Say my name right or don’t say it at all. You know how much I fucking hate when you talk like that.”
He delivers a harsh slap against your pussy and you jerk, legs twitching to close once again before he slaps at your mound once again. “What do you have to say yourself?”
“Sorry! Merlin, Daddy, ‘m sorry!” You blubber, streaks of tears coursing down your cheeks as your head becomes so incredibly foggy that the only concepts that you can even fathom thinking about are Remus and your climax.
“Daddy’s gonna make you squirt, yeah? You’re gonna make a mess of my fingers and then ‘m gonna make you do it all over again.”
And then, without any warning, he’s slipping his fingers inside your cunt and he’s going so incredibly fast that even with the weight of his palm, you’re squirming upon his comforter. “When you feel that pressure in your belly, gonna have you push f’me, yeah?”
You’re nodding, eyes screwing shut as that aforementioned pressure coils deep in your belly. “Gimme it, puppy,” Remus instructs when he can feel your overused walls flutter around his digits until they’re clenching with such force his lips are turning up in a smile.
And you’re doing just so, allowing your body to melt into the mattress and for yourself to completely succumb to Remus’ touch. Other than the rush of ecstasy that floods your every sense, there isn’t much you can feel, as your vision goes a sudden black for but a few seconds before you’re zipping back to reality again.
When you blink blearily through your waterlogged lashes, Remus is beaming down at you his torso sheening with... water?
“Daddy, you’re all wet.” You muse, legs still spread for his use.
“Yeah, poppet, that was you. Good job!”
You can feel a sudden surge of heat searing in the apples of your cheeks as your button lip juts out in a pout. “Sorry, Daddy. Didn’t mean to.”
“I asked you to, m’love. Felt so good. So beautiful.” Remus responds, carefully leaning down again to run his slender fingers through your drenched folds.
They slip around so easily Remus has to literally look down to find your clit once again, and when he does, he’s pinching at it with a fervor that pulls a waterlogged, wanton moan from your throat.
“I told you we were going to do it a few times over, you’re not gonna get off that easy.”
And he does, until you’re suspended in your sixth post-orgasmic state and quivering with the intense aftershocks that rumble through your figure.
Remus has never seen you so lost, a dreamy, far-off gaze swimming in your orbs as you lay, sprawled out languidly across his bed.
“C’mon, baby, let’s go now. Let’s get you all cleaned up. Wanna make sure you’re all clean, yeah?”
“No, daddy. Want again.”
“You want what again?”
“Y’cock. In my mouth.”
“Y’know that’s not how we ask.”
Remus can’t help the sigh that escapes his lips as he sits down beside you, brushing away the hair from your face. “I know, pretty girl. I know you want it, but you can’t have it right now.”
“Please, Daddy! I was good! So good for you, right?”
“I’m not Daddy anymore, bunny. S’Remus, yeah? Remmy’s here for you m’love.”
“No, you’re daddy.”
“No, I’m not. C’mon, princess. Come back f’me, yeah? Wanna get you all nice and clean.” He rises, but then you’re jerking up into a seated position, grappling at his arm and refusing any and all movement.
“Please don’t leave. Been a good girl. I don’t want you to leave. I don’t-” Tears are flooding your eyes so quickly that Remus’ heart is sinking into the depths of his chest.
“You have been a good girl, m’love. You did so well. Just gonna go get a washcloth to get you better, yeah?”
You can barely stand, legs so sore that if you were to even attempt to rise, you’d collapse, and so Remus is at a loss. His heart is thudding dangerously fast in his ribcage as he looks at the hole he’s dug himself.
He can’t even move to look at your swollen cunt, because every time he moves even an inch, you’re crying out and your grip on him is growing tighter and tighter.
A part of him wants to wait until you fall asleep but even the mere prospect of such terrifies him because he knows that sleep can put you in an even worse degenerative mindset.
But then there’s a soft rap of knuckles against the door, and Remus, with his lack of judgment, calls out a ‘Come in!’
The mahogany door swings open to reveal James, his normal tangle of curls bouncing with each buoyant step. “Hey, Moony, we were going to-” And then he finds you. “...Is she alright?”
From his position, he can see you nosing at Remus’ bare thigh, although he’s clad in boxers while your fingers grapple, and miss at the waistband of his boxers so you can pull them down again.
“No.” Remus’ voice cracks as he looks down at you again. “Mate, she said I couldn’t get her into subspace and it was some stupid dare, and now I can’t fucking leave her. She’s been like this for ten minutes and she won’t let me move, I can’t even-”
His demeanor is coming to a crash at his feet as he reveals a kind of vulnerability that the bespectacled boy typically only sees once a month.
“I should go get Lily.”
“Please. And Pads.” Remus whimpers he slips his fingers around your own and pulls your fingers away from the outline of his hardening cock for the tenth time in 5 minutes.
“C’mon pretty girl, come back f’me, yeah? S’me, s’Remmy.” Remus can feel himself getting choked up with pure trepidation for your bleary state as you cry for him.
You’re quite literally so far gone you can’t even manage to string words together, nonetheless respond to what Remus is asking of you.
There’s a thunder of footsteps below his dormitory while before the three are tumbling in through the open doorway and the door is slammed shut behind them.
The sound in itself has you jolting, crying out, and burrowing your face closer between the junction of his leg and torso.
“Hi, pretty girl.” Lily muses as she traipses around the end of the bed, squatting down so she can comb her fingers through your hair.
You don’t move. “Can you let go of Remmy f’me? Wanna make sure you’re all nice and clean.”
Once again, there’s no response from you as Sirius goes to fetch a warm washcloth. Remus has never seen you get this bad and it has him in such turmoil he can feel bile burning the back of his throat.
You can hear the thud of heavy footsteps through the figurative cotton in your ears before Remus is hooking his hands under the bends of your arms and situating you so that your perspiring back is leaning against his chest your legs are tucked over his own so they’re open for Sirius.
“I don’t want Sirius’ cock, wanna have yours, Daddy.”
“He’s not giving you his cock.” Remus muses as he leans down to pepper soft kisses against your clavicle. “He’s just cleaning you up, yeah? Making you feel better so you can come back m’love.”
James is ruffling through Remus’ trunk at the end of his bed to find the sweater he often finds you stealing, and when he does, he’s throwing it to Lily to aid in putting it on for you.
“You’re doing so well.” Lily sits down beside Remus so she can take lull you out of such a foggy mindset. “Good job, Hunny.”
“Remmy!” You mewl, turning your head to bury your nose in his muscled bicep.
You’re coming back, that’s for sure, even it is slowly.
“Yes, sweetheart? What’s wrong? Tell me, darling.”
“I don’t want-” You cut yourself off with a small twitch at the way Sirius accidentally brushes the cloth over your clit. “Ow!”
“Careful!” Remus swats, albeit not that hard, at Sirius’ arm.
You melt against his chest as the brunet cleans up before Remus is pulling you up and off the mattress so James can wiggle a pair of Remus’ boxers over your thighs.
Although your mind is still a bit foggy, you’re slowly returning to reality, the fog in your mind finally starting to lift.
James, Sirius, and Lily sit down on the mattress before you as you turn in Remus’ hold so you can press your ear against his pectoral and lull yourself back to serenity with the gentle thrum of his heartbeat.
“You alright?” Remus murmurs as he pets at your hair, pulling strands of hair behind your ear before leaning down to smear his lips over the crown of your head.
“I think so...” You murmur after a few beats, and although you’re not fully back yet, you’re able to discern who is who and actually murmur comprehensible phrases without sounding like a complete nymphomaniac.
“You scared us.” Lily’s frowning as she pats at your shin. “Got really worried for a few minutes.”
“Never seen you so bloody possessive.” James snarks in a playful manner before your foot shoots out to carefully kick him.
You roll your eyes, nestling comfortably into the crook of Remus’ arm as blink owlishly at the three. “Thank you.”
Sirius is the first to speak. “Anytime, sweetheart. Just remember not to dare Remus to do anything. You know how competitive he gets.”
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remote learning (m)
summary; working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two.
pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader
genre/warnings; fluff, humor, slightly insecure mc, this is pure FILTH—use of a remote controlled vibrator, do not and i repeat DO NOT try foreplay during a zoom call in the event u get fired im not responsible, phone sex, jungkook’s a meanie in control, cum eating, doggy, and topping it off with some sweet missionary bc jk has purty eyes, unprotected (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) excessive use of the petname [redacted]
a/n; this fic manifested bc of work. and i!! am!! frustrated!! i think we all need a lil jk relief so here it goes! as always ty to @chillingtae / @eerieedits for this FANTASTIC fic banner, please go check vivi out if u have taste okok
part 2: distance learning
if u like this fic pls consider giving it a like and a share💕💕💕💕
“Tomorrow morning, same time at 9AM. Remember to have your reports alphabetized and itemized,” your supervisor says, but the only thing you can focus on is the abnormal amount of bonsai plants in his living room.
“Alright now it’s time for the union to talk COVID protocol,” you frown when Mr. Kim moves ownership of the Zoom call to your union rep, who pulls up a Powerpoint. You feel your eyes burn at the sight: an itinerary containing over thirty-eight slides.
“For fuck’s sake—”
You so desperately want to turn off the camera and flop in your bed. Since working remotely you haven’t been operating in the most ideal of workspaces. You live in a one-room apartment with a communal kitchen downstairs, so you really only have four square meters to stretch your limbs around between breaks. You’ve pushed your bed aside and shoved an office chair between the bed and the wall, leaving you to squirm between ten centimeters of space. You have no desk because well, the little rectangle space is prioritized for your portable stove and meals.
The meeting drones on for another hour, until your brain melts to liquid and your limbs feel like Jell-O. Furthering your anxiety as they talk about protocol that never ends up happening, delays that continue to pile up, and the anger that’s been bubbling between the higher ups and little goldfish employees like you.
When you finally shut off the camera and fling your laptop under the bed, you still feel unsettled. Probably because your work life and home life have merged together, and it’s hard for you to separate work and pleasure.
Speaking of pleasure.
Your hand blindly reaches under your bed, looking for the pretty pink oval you purchased last week. Cleaned and ready to use, the little remote-controlled vibrator sits plainly in your palm.
Needless to stay you’ve been in a bit of a dry spot these past few months. With a fear to go out and meet someone new, you’ve been left with yourself and your fantasies. That’s fine, but lately your old vibrator isn’t cutting it. It’s unfortunate, you think you’re messing up your libido by buying toy after toy, but you’re horny and lonely.
Linking your phone’s app to the remote, you ignore the messages that have been beeping your feed since early morning.
[11:21] Jeon: let’s do lunch!
[11:23] Jeon: hehe i feel like i belong in mean girls. Do lunch💁🏻♀️💁🏻♀️💁🏻♀️
[2:20] Jeon: u loozer. Come eat dinner with us upstairs @6
[2:24] Jeon: dropping off a snack for u
Another element of feeling horny and lonely? Jeon Jungkook.
You two shouldn’t have even met each other. You live off crumbs on the first floor while he and his roommates are livin’ it up on top in the penthouse. One day a few months ago he crashed into you while working out, having run up and down the whole flight of stairs at least three times before deciding to collapse on you between the second and first floor.
Despite the black mask that hugged his sharp jawline, you had felt nothing but attractiveness ooze off of him. Under his hoodie was nothing but curved muscle. He smelled so soft and sweet despite the fact that he was damp with sweat.
The rest is history. After that day he seemed to show up everywhere, jogging more prominently on your floor and doing exercises at your level’s gym. He says he likes you, likes your company. He’s wormed his way intermittently, whether he’s seeing you struggle with an armful of groceries or when he hears you screaming over an Among Us match (according to Jungkook, the walls are thinner on the bottom floors.)
The idea of Jungkook doting on you doubly frustrates you. He seemingly appears as the perfect man, unaffected by the stresses of the world. Jungkook’s job lets him work from home anyway, and he definitely had enough room in the penthouse for his own office. He works out, probably has a girlfriend and enough friends for you to gradually phase out of this weird neighbor interest.
So you ignore his seemingly harmless messages, focusing on getting the settings right on the vibrator. You feel your pussy jolt a little in excitement, watching the silver and pearl pink oval shake in your grasp. You smile a bit to yourself, immediately finding your iPad for your favorite videos and some pillows to support your back.
Half an hour later however, that excitement soon goes sour.
“Fuck,” you bite your lip, frustrated tears streaming down your face, “fuck fuck fuck!”
This isn’t a set of explicatives out of pleasure, unfortunately.
No matter what you do, you won’t cum. You can’t cum. Barely wet, hardly a drop glossing your folds. You don’t even want to bother getting out the lube at this point because you are so disappointed.
The vibrator is going at the highest setting, one that your neighbors can probably hear if they were home at this time of the day. You cease to care at this point, because the job is undone because you haven’t come undone.
You don’t know why this is happening. Maybe it’s because you’ve had the liberty to touch yourself in complete silence, now that your neighbors have been confined to their homes indefinitely. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since you’ve relied only on your touch, that your body is tired of the monotony and needs more.
You bang the heels of your feet against your flimsy mattress, feeling whiny and utterly dissatisfied. Pulling the vibrator from your clit, you glare at the infuriating toy.
“You’re supposed to be helping me out of my dry spell,” you chastise, throwing the toy across the bed, sliding onto the carpet, “I get you’re not Jeon’s dick, but you gotta help a sister out.”
With a sigh, you fall into a bout of exhaustion. Not from a round of orgasms, but from the week’s stress and no way to let it out.
You wake up bleary and disoriented, practically melding through the mattress. The sky is pink and blue, washed in a sea of corals and purples. It comes from the incessant banging.
“Stop it,” you whine more to yourself than whoever dares to disturb your sleep, pulling up your panties and a pair of navy dolphin-trim shorts. “Whoever you are I’m comin’ so stop!”
Swinging the door open in two strides you’re met with a chipper Jeon Jungkook; looking all cute and sweet in his big hoodie and smelling like a rosebud.
“It’s 6:30,” he narrows his eyes playfully at you, “dinner’s in the oven.”
“You left your oven on,” you deadpan, turning around to grimace at the mess that’s your one-room apartment.
“Yes, so we have exactly ten minutes before my kitchen explodes in flames,” Jungkook chirps, closing the door behind you.
You don’t even bother to tell him to excuse the mess, ignore the pile of bras hanging on your vanity and the unpacked groceries that sit at the edge of your mini-fridge. It’s far too late to salvage your dignity and Jungkook’s too damn polite to call you out on your state of slob. Although, as you pull out a bottle of wine tucked in the back of your fridge you blurt, “I can hear your fingers tingling to clean up my mess.”
When you turn around Jungkook stuffs his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie, supposedly to stop himself from cleaning up. With a pout he says, “Can’t help it, Jimin says I’m currently manifesting a strong display of Virgo energy this month. Whatever that means.”
Jabbing your feet in a pair of slides you follow Jungkook out the door. The hallways are quiet and barren, yet the silence isn’t suffocating as you two pile into the elevator. Jungkook opens the keypad underneath the regular boring buttons, revealing a sleek little set of light-up buttons that have the code to the penthouse. Faaaannnnccy.
“Tryna look?” he jokes, cupping his hands to block your vision.
You scoff, “I’m sure it’s something easy like 0000.”
“You’re wrong. It’s 1234,” he replies cheekily.
The door dings open and you’re met with yet another door. Jungkook presses his thumb to the biometric scanner, and a pleasant ringer tings in response.
The penthouse smells like a mix of tonight’s dinner, savory, combined with a cinnamon apple candle. Jungkook is a fan of scented candles, ever since he got a whiff of your lavender vanilla burner.
“Where’s Taehyung?” you ask, more out of your own anxiousness than anything. Taehyung’s your buffer, the hyper roommate being someone to distract you from Jungkook’s incessant aura.
“Dunno,” he shrugs, flicking on the oven light to peer inside. You see the telltale signs of a mean lasagna, the shredded cheese on top crisping to a delicious-looking golden brown, “anyway, you’re my friend first.”
As grotesque as it sounds, Jungkook always finds his way to worm his way under your skin and find homage there. “Possessive much?” you quirk a brow, folding your arms over your chest even though there’s nothing to hide.
“What can I say,” Jungkook’s legs stretch out as he squats down to your level, “I really fell for you.”
“Gross,” you try to convince yourself, ignoring the thudding in your chest, “you technically fell on me, weirdo.”
Dinner is a quick affair. He cuts slices of lasagna and brings it to the couch, where you’re pouring glasses of wine in crystal glasses. They’re so clean and shiny you can see your reflection in the gold liquid. You grimace at the bottle, normally this would be poured in a mug or your sippy cup, tonight your liquid’s getting a high-end pour.
You two pull up an old anime to fill up the room, but most of it is spent in playful banter. Jungkook prattles on about his day, showing you all the cool updates he’s achieved during work. An app developer. A very on-brand, lucrative job for him. You love your job but it isn’t nearly as exciting as Jungkook’s, so you just let yourself be supportive and ask questions when needed.
When the subject of you comes up, you shake your head and stuff your face with another cut of al dente pasta.
“Not interestin’ Jeon,” you mumble, groaning at how delicious his cooking is. What can’t he do? “Is this oregano? Is the secret ingredient toasted oregano—”
Your shoulders slump, “I’m not very interesting, I tell you everything I do during the week and nothing has changed since March.”
“Oh, not everything,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. You furrow your brows as his hands stuff themselves in his hoodie pocket. Is he upset you won’t tell him about your work stress? “And you’re very interesting, I’ll have you know.”
“Yeah?” a small smile tugs on your lips. You sink further into his cottonball of a couch, feeling utterly soft and meldable at his words.
“Very,” Jungkook gets up from the couch, looking down at you, “want something sweet?”
The prospect of dessert has you excited. Jungkook really is the perfect man, so kind and knows exactly when you’re craving something for your sweet tooth. You move to get up, only for you to sink further between the two large cushions of the loveseat. “Help me, ’m stuck,” you pout.
Jungkook giggles, and holds out his palm, “Hand,” he says simply.
You immediately reach for his larger palm, and you gasp when you feel something cold and soft touch your palm. As if you’ve been burned, you tug your hand back. But Jungkook’s hand is massive, the large ink-painted palm curling around your own, and it’s almost painful the way he clutches your hand so fiercely.
When he’s sure you’re not going to drop it, he releases your hand.
Nestled in your palm, is the new vibrator you left on the carpet this afternoon.
“Jeon,” you laugh tonelessly, hating the way Jungkook’s neutral expression mocks you, “you found my USB? Thanks, I know—”
“Know that you’re having a hard time coming?” Carefully extracting your plate from your lap, he places it on the coffee table before Jungkook cages you between the couch. You shrink further into the plush seat, “I tried being a good neighbor, but you didn’t answer my texts. I heard you when I tried dropping off some snacks before dinner. Didn’t know you were into toys.”
“Oh, c’mon Jeon. It’s 2020 and we’re confined,” well, in this scenario you’re confined, “everyone has a sex toy.”
“Hm, I don’t have one,” Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, pretending to be deep in thought, “so, can you be my toy?”
It’s then that you feel the tell-tale signs of arousal. Your eyes widen, innocently surprised at the fact that Jeon Jungkook contained so much power in so few words. You snap your legs shut immediately, sealing any possibility of you dripping down your panties.
“I heard how disappointed you were, doll,” his arms have no problems as he bends down so he’s eye-level with your crotch, “it was pathetic, really. You couldn’t even cum on your own? You need someone to help you?”
“N-no,” you cross your arms defensively, frowning, “you–you’re being mean, Jeon.”
“And what, you’re gonna cry about it?” Jungkook smirks, now sitting on his knees. His hands run over the velvety fabric of the couch, making a beeline for your thighs. Gooseflesh rises to the surface, and he immediately presses down to iron out the little bumps that travel across your skin, “I do wanna make you cry, but not because you can’t cum. You’ll cry because of how good I’m gonna make you feel.”
You gape, clutching the vibrator in your hand.
A little bit of your sweet, cute Jungkook resurfaces, softening when he notices your lack of response, “If you’ll let me, of course.”
You finally drag the words from your throat, “I-it’s been a long time since I’ve… been with someone.”
He tilts his head, “Same here. I just figured we could break that spell together.”
What are you going to say? No? A dishonor to your sexuality, that would be. Jungkook’s offering himself up on a silver platter, and even though you do wish it was a little more you’ll take the sex.
You nod, forgetting to speak again. Jungkook chuckles.
“I want to hear you say it, doll.”
Doll. Like you’re his little fucktoy, malleable and bendable to all his whims. Fuck, why is that so hot to you? “Yes, I want to have sex with you,” you declare, your voice sounding more breathy than confident, “a-and, you can be mean. If you want.”
His thumbs press little light indents in your skin, over and over as if fascinated by the way your skin is so soft and gummy in his grip. “Okay,” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to pull out his phone, jabbing a few things that you don’t see, “let’s do a little test drive, then.”
In seconds, the little egg vibrates in your touch. He puts it on the lowest setting, a soft buzz echoing in the large living room, then at a bruising pace that forces you to curl your fingers around it otherwise it’d fall. Your eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s, who’s focusing entirely on the way the pink and silver egg moves, dilated in interest.
“Fuck, and you thought this thing was broken?” he asks, taking it out of your palm and turning off the app.
“Maybe I’m the broken one,” you admit softly, wringing your shirt.
Silence seeps. Jungkook looks at you, brows furrowed as if he’s annoyed. “Don’t ever say that,” when you don’t respond, he grabs your chin, and you gasp when he forces you to look at him, “you’re not broken, doll. Everyone’s body is different, and we’re going to discover yours together. Got it?”
“Y-yes,” you reply immediately, mesmerized by his seriousness.
“Good,” he slaps the vibrator back in your palm, “and in case you’re wondering, this goes inside.”
“I know how it works,” you scowl, “but won’t you show me, just in case?”
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Jungkook gets up for good, piling the dishes in his arms and walking to the sink. You immediately miss his warmth, “but I think patience is a virtue. I have a developer meeting with some clients in America a little bit, actually. So just wait for my call, yeah?”
You frown, looking down at the vibrator in your hands. How much longer would you have to wait?
It happens at exactly three in the afternoon the next day, at the start of your staff meeting. You’re so tired of the same information being thrown back and forth, coupled with Brian and Jae having to fight over some mundane subject in the itinerary that no one cares about. For goodness sake, it’s Friday! What else would you possibly need to be meeting about?
You’re wearing a button-down dress shirt on top, no pants on the bottom. Your bare feet slap against the hardwood floor, antsy. It’s been a long day at work and your back hurts, you’re half tempted to dip out of this meeting and hope no one notices.
Your phone buzzes on your bed, and you blanch.
[3:01] Jeon: thanks for waiting, doll. It’s time
[3:01] Jeon: put it in
Shamelessly, your vibrator sits next to your phone, cleaned and ready to go.
[3:02] Jeon: need help? Answer my call
Making sure that your Zoom call is muted, you quickly answer the incoming phone call. Jungkook and you say nothing at first, waiting. The phone just ticks with the amount of time passing, one minute, two minutes, and so on.
Mr. Kim drones unknowingly, “So when we do return to live instruction, expect a strict process when returning. PPE must be enforced so our response team will—”
“How wet were you last night when you went home?” Jungkook asks languidly, speaking over your boss’ voice.
Your eyes widen, flickering back and forth between the phone and the camera displaying Mr. Kim’s boring speech.
“Doll, are you hard of hearing?”
“N-no,” your lips barely move, eyes glued to the camera and plastering an expressionless face, “I heard you.”
“Then give me an answer,” he says patiently, “how wet were you?”
“Little more detail.”
“Soaking wet,” you flush, thankful that your work laptop can only stream in 360p. “I haven’t gotten that wet in such—such a long time. My pussy was practically clinging to my underwear when I washed up that night.”
A heady, heavy groan resonates through your phone. You feel that voice straight into your panties, jolting the nerves awake.
“Fuck, you have a way with words, don’t you?” Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, “c’mon, touch yourself for me. Swirl your fingers around your clit, slowly.”
It takes a second for you to position yourself, spreading your legs in a way that your coworkers don’t question why you’re moving so much. A quick scan over all the tired faces says that you’re okay. Shyly, you press your fingers against your clit, doing as he says.
“Oh,” you say more to yourself than him, feeling the wetness already coating your fingers. This is earlier than usual.
“I’m already wet,” you say, amazed, “I haven’t gotten wet this quickly in a long time.”
He scoffs, “If you’re so wet now, shove it in.”
You frown. You did tell him to be mean. But the idea of him telling you what to do, giving you all the porn-worthy experiences to accomplish has you relenting. Discreetly grabbing the egg from the bed, you bring it down to your panties. Swirling the cold metal around your clit, you coat it in your juices.
It’s still a little too early to be putting anything in, but you can take it. Slowly relaxing, you slip the little egg in your pussy, wiggling it a little to make sure it’s secure. It’s a strange sort of pressure, and it pokes against your clit from the inside, but you enjoy the stretch.
“It’s in,” you reply softly.
You wait. You listen to Jae make yet another speech about the importance of masks and gloves, and then Brian has to interject and say that gloves are literally useless because they spread germs around no matter what. Even though everyone else is muted, you can practically feel the misery seeping through the screen. For a second you almost forget about Jungkook on the line. Why isn’t Mr. Kim stopping them? This is the thin line stopping you from the weekend, unbelievable!
“Eep!” you jolt in your cheap seat, the egg buzzing in your pussy. Your hands fly out, gripping the edges of your computer.
It hits different when Jungkook is in control. Knowing that with a flick of his thumb he can have you careening, whining for more or less depending on how hard he wants you go. Your folds hug the egg, nestling it a fleshy grip as it brushes against your clit the more you squirm.
“You look so pretty, trying so hard to hold in your moans,” Jungkook says wondrously from the other line.
“W-what?” you frown, “you can see me?”
And immediately, you go to your trackpad to fish between the hundred-and-one employees also in this call. At the very end, you see a very simple name with no mic or camera: Jeon JK. He’s here.
“Worked in IT, doll. Know a thing or two,” he says, “now, tell me. What are you thinking about right now?”
“Y-you,” you mumble shyly.
“So,” Mr. Kim finally ends that part of the meeting, thank goodness, “what’s everyone’s plans this weekend? I’m going apple picking with a couple of my friends from college. Hoseok is a bright bean who loves to take long walks—”
What the hell. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat, hyperaware that Jungkook’s watching your every move. You make glossy, stubborn eyes at the camera, trying not to move when he jacks up the vibrator to a higher setting.
Jae’s of course the next employee to unmute his microphone, “Well, me and the bae are going house hunting…”
“Fuck!” you cry, moving the computer to the left so you can pretend you’re picking up something. But in fact you're leaning your head against your mattress, frustrated. “I don’t fucking care about your weekend plans, Jae! Shut the fuck up! You wanna know my weekend plans?” Jungkook’s laughing at you from the other line, but it only spurs you on, “my plans are fucking my super hot neighbor! He’s a hundred times more interesting than you and he’s going to make me come a hundred times this weekend—oh fuck!”
Your fingers latch onto your panties, drawing random squiggles and letters between the fabric. You’re damp, soaked to the core. You need some sort of friction, a reprieve from this hellish week.
“You flatter me, doll,” Jungkook is definitely grinning through the phone, you can practically hear his shit-eating grin, “I think you deserve a reward. As soon as you put the camera back on your pretty face.”
Quickly, you sit up to put the camera on you again. Once again, the employees are in a daze, listening to whatever the next person gabs about their weekend. Even though you can’t really see it, you’re sure Jungkook has a 1080p camera upstairs that shows off your blotchy face. You moan a little bit, lips closed as the egg buzzes against your pussy lips.
“You’re so cute, doll,” Jungkook praises, “you look so professional, holding it in. What could I do to make you unravel? Hm, what if you imagined the taste of my cock on your lips? Fuck, I’d love to slap your cute little face with my cock, baby doll–”
“y/n?” Mr. Kim calls your name, and you freeze, “what about you? Any plans this weekend?”
Jungkook doesn’t sound angry that your boss has inadvertently cut him off. “Answer him, doll. Be a good little employee.”
Like a zombie, you move towards the unmute button. “I–I uh,” you shake your head, trying to formulate a coherent response, “I’m going on a date this weekend.”
Jungkook jacks up the vibrator to high, and your legs are shaking.
“Awh, a date!” Mr. Park unmutes himself, practically shoving the camera in his face, “how much do you like the lucky lad or lady?”
“I like him uh—ah—” you pretend to think, covering a hand over your mouth to hide the fact that you feel your orgasm fast approaching, “I like him a lot!” you finally blurt, “I’m, uh, really excited to see him.”
“Best of luck to you,” Mr. Kim says brightly, “so Jimin, any news on those investors you had dinner with this weekend? I heard a lot of positive things…”
You immediately mute your mic, and pretend to lag as you fumble around with the camera. Shoving the laptop to the side once more you groan into your sheets, “Fuck—fuck yes—” you moan, shaking your head as you dip your fingers into your panties. The vibrator still continues at its bruising pace, spurring you to a high you haven’t peaked to in months.
“Good job,” Jungkook says simply, “could barely notice that you have a little helper fiddling around your dripping pussy.”
“J-Jeon,” you cry, “I’m, ’m gonna cum.”
“Yeah?” Jungkook eggs you on, “you’re gonna cum around that cute little vibrator? Gonna soak it in your juices?”
“W-wish it was your cock I was soaking,” you whisper truthfully, letting your orgasm take you at the thought. Your folds flutter around the vibrator, bringing you to a level of sensitivity you’ve only dreamt of, “Ah, yes, Jeon. It feels s-so good!”
“Yes baby,” Jungkook groans through the line, “feels good, huh?”
Mr. Kim interrupts for the last time, “And with that, I think our meeting is adjourned. Have a wonderful weekend! Stay safe and—”
You slam the laptop shut, grabbing your phone and keys. “I’m going up,” you mutter impatiently, already jabbing your feet in a pair of slippers and locking the door to your apartment behind you.
“I’m waiting,” he replies, eagerness trimming his voice.
“Password?” you ask quickly, jabbing the elevator door shut once you step inside. Thank goodness you’re alone, you think as you pull your dress shirt further down your ass.
“Did you forget already?” he teases, “I told you, it’s 1234.”
Thankfully, the doors zip you up straight to the penthouse. The connection is always a little spotty in elevators, and you sigh longingly when you feel the buzz jolt and leave it’s momentum, quickly losing its rhythm between your dripping folds. Once you get to the top and the elevator doors open the second door immediately swings open, revealing a soft but aroused-looking Jungkook. He looks fresh from the shower, absolutely radiant and delicious looking.
You don’t hesitate to run up to him, and Jungkook immediately cups his face in your hands, pressing his lips to yours.
You’re practically on your tippy-toes, and you squeak against his lips when he hooks his arms around your shoulders, immediately lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his trim waist, not wanting to stop kissing him. He’s like the sweetest ambrosia, a taste you can’t get enough of.
The connection to your vibrator has resumed, and you can’t help but grind helplessly under Jungkook’s clothed abs as he carries the both of you to his bedroom.
“N-need you to fuck me,” you bury your head in the crook of his neck, pressing quick kisses to his jawline, “I want you s-so badly.”
“Hello to you too,” he husks, shutting the bedroom door with his foot.
Jungkook drops you unceremoniously, and your limbs splay out on the fresh bedsheets of his feather-soft mattress.
“You look gorgeous like this, doll.” he sighs longingly, a hand going under your buttondown to press against your soaked panties. His hand lingers on the way your pussy moves in tandem with the vibrator.
“J-Jeon please I can’t take it—”
“Stop calling me that,” he snaps, hands leaving your skin.
You whine at the loss of contact, “Jeon, no. Jungkook. Kook, my Kook. Please, I need you.”
That gets him going. His pretty chocolate brown eyes zero in on you, and he immediately shucks off his shirt and sweatpants, “How much do you need me?” he asks, pulling out his phone and pressing some buttons, “how much do you need your Kook?”
The vibrator stops. You cry out in frustration, unsure if it’s because it’s off or because Jungkook’s taking too damn long. “I need you so much, Kook,” you warble with a pout, moving to undo the top buttons of your dress shirt to reveal your cleavage, “honey, you can have me all you want later today. I want you to slap my face with your dick, edge me until I cry, anything. I’m all yours, I’m your little doll. But please for now, I need to feel you inside me.”
“Say no more,” his lips latch onto your neck, and you sigh at the skin-to-skin contact. His hand fiddles under your shirt, clutching a breast and slapping it so hard it bounces back and forth, “fuck, you’re so pretty.”
His hand moves to your plain cotton panties, immediately shucking them off, “doll, you really are dripping,” he’s impressed, surprised when he has to untack the fabric from your glossy legs. He hangs the panties on his wooden headboard, a little ornament for him to jack off to later.
His fingers brush over your folds, wasting no time to slip the vibrator out. He holds it between your faces, forcing you to stare at the pearly substance that coats the entirety of the egg. “Mm, tasty tasty,” he cooes, pink tongue darting out to lick a long strip across the oval.
You tug him closer, pressing his lips to yours. He tastes a mixture of his own saliva and your arousal, and you grind helplessly against him. You feel how big his cock is, rock-hard and trying very diligently not to bust. He must have a crazy amount of control, and it drives you nuts.
“Kook,” you frown, bumping your crotch with his.
“Impatient, good thing I am too,” he shucks off his boxers while you unbutton the rest of your shirt, “knees and hands, doll.”
You don’t care how or what way he’ll take you. Fuck, he could bend you into an Auntie Anne’s pretzel and you’d comply.
Arching your back so your ass is in the air, you wiggle around, hoping he’ll take the bait. That’s when you sigh, feeling the tip of his dick brush against your wetness.
“Soaking my cock already, baby,” he says, “you’re so good to me.”
And finally, finally, he slips in. You don’t even care that it stretches you a little too far and too long, it’s been too damn long since you’ve had decent dick and Jungkooks far more than decent.
He goes at a quick pace, finally showing how impatient he’s been all this time. Your moans and groans fill the room, a symphony of pleasure and pain as he stretches your walls to the brim. You hold a pillow to your chest, feeling woozy at the way his fat cock stretches you out.
“F-fuck yeah,” the pace is hard, you practically feel it in your belly, and you love it. “You feel so fucking tight, baby,” he’s all up in your ear, kissing the lobe briefly, “I love the way you suck my cock back in.”
“Kook,” you press your ass back, “harder, please. I’m your little doll, right? Y-you can fuck me however you want, as hard as you want! Please, ah—! Use me!”
You cry out when he slips from your folds, immediately flipping you on your back. He wastes no time to wet his dick, lifting one leg over his shoulder to have you deeper. This position is far more intimate, and your noses are practically touching as he thrusts into you.
You can’t believe you’re in bed with Jeon Jungkook. This must be a dream, a really great, really long wet dream. You crumble in his grip, and you lift a shaky hand to run through his thick black strands.
“Why’d you make me wait so long?” you cry, staring right into his glittering eyes, “why couldn’t you come for me after your call last night?”
“Why’d I make you wait?” he grits, crushing the flesh between your hip bones so he can have more leverage to pound into you, “why did you make me wait? Since March, I’ve wanted you. I told you I liked you, told you I fell for you.”
“T-thought it was a joke,” you warble pathetically, breasts bouncing at his relentless rhythm.
“You think th-this is a joke?” for further emphasis, he glides slower, making you feel just how large and thick he is against your folds, “I want you, doll. Y-yeah, fu-fuck. Want to feed you every day, feed you lasagna, feed you with my cum, make you happy.”
“I—I want that too, Kook,” you’re a pile of pink mush, and you feel your eyes prick from the overwhelming emotions that have washed over both of you. “Sh-shit, Kook. I think, I think I’m gon’ cum again.”
“Good, you first,” his hand plays figure 8s with your precious pearl, seeping with arousal and coating his cock in delicious lubrication.
It doesn’t take long for you to cum. You’re holding him as tight as you can, nails digging into his shoulders as you clench around his cock. Jungkook cums shortly after, and you keen at the sensitivity when his hot cum coats your walls. “Baby doll,” he exhales, thrusting lazily. The both of you feel your combined arousal drip between the two of you, onto your skin and onto his sheets, “y-you’re amazing.”
His softened cock slips out of you, and his hands immediately reach over to swirl around the heady cream over your engorged pussy. You moan when he brings his fingers to your lips, “Open, doll.”
It tastes salty yet sweet, and you suckle around his finger with a cute little pop. Jungkook grins brightly, feeling like he won the lottery.
“Are my walls that thin?” you pout, pressing closer to him when he pulls the blankets to your chest.
“Very,” Jungkook nods with a chuckle, tucking the two of you in, “now get some rest, doll. You presented a lot of offers to me earlier, and I intend to go through with them.”
You smile into his chest, melty and feeling utterly sated.
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Do you have any head cannons for the other Dimitrescu sisters? I loved your takes on Cassandra!
thank you! <3 and Of Course I have headcannons for the other two. (though not as extensive as the ones I have for Cassandra bc you know... brain rot) BUT HERE:
stims include, but not limited to: jumping, hard blinking, leg bouncing, word/phrase/noise repetition, and fidgeting with her clothing
and i’m also CONVINCED she gets the zoomies at random times of the day
Alcina, hearing loud and fast footsteps up and down her hallway at 3am: *sigh* “Daniela! Take it outside!”
followed by a loud THUMP and painful groan (she definitely ran into a wall)
hates loud noises but simultaneously has no volume control
especially when she gets excited
Cassandra has to constantly remind her to lower her voice
“AND THEN I TOOK MY KNIFE AND STABBED THE LYCAN IN THE NECK AND IT WAS SO COOL—”
“Dani, i’m standing right here, why are you yelling?”
she loves play-fighting with her sisters
Cassandra is more willing to entertain her than Bela but the both of them like to see their sister happy. so whenever they recognize Daniela getting antsy they’ll wrestle with her a bit
(Cassandra gets way to into it sometimes and makes Bela be the referee lol. Cass always ends up pinning her younger sister with a proud, competitive smile on her face. Bela let’s Dani win, but we don’t tell her that)
has the keenest senses of the three which makes her the best at stalking/killing pray
and since she can hear the best out of all of them, she unintentionally eves drops on conversations
so Daniela, bless her, has all the tea
will just. touch things
“Life hard, Mothers gown soft”
can get trapped in her own head and doesn’t know how to express to her family what’s bothering her
this can make her very reserved at times and she’ll distance herself for days on end
her mother is really the only person who knows how to get her out of that state. Alcina walks up the long flight of stairs to the highest point of her castle. her youngest daughter likes to come here sometimes when she needs the quiet. “Daniela? Are you up here?”
“Hello, Mother.” Alcina looks up to see her daughter lounging on a banister high up on the ceiling.
“What are you doing up there, my love?” Daniela rubs the fabric of her dress between her fingers. “Cassandra and Bela were arguing again. I don’t like when Cassandra yells.”
Alcina shakes her head. Those two were always going at it. She’ll speak to Bela about it later. “I haven’t seen you in a few days.” Daniela then grabs a fist full of her dress and tugs at it, blinking hard. “Come down for a moment. Talk to me, baby.”
and Daniela simply rolls herself off the banister and into free fall. Alcina, already prepared, catches her with ease and holds her bridal style against her chest. Daniela runs her hands over the sleeve of her mother’s dress.
Alcina gave her youngest child time to gather her thoughts, knowing it sometimes takes longer for her to be able to understand them herself. Daniela finally spoke up: “It’s been very loud recently. Around the castle. Small things, like footsteps or glasses clicking, they sound so loud in my head.” She covers her ears with her hands. “Even now I can still hear Cassandras voice through the castle, it’s pushing in my ears. My head hurts, Mother.”
Alcina gave her daughter a quick squeeze before setting her down. “Follow me baby, I want to show you something.” Daniela followed her Mother through the twists and turns of the castle until they ended up at a door that was just like all the others. It blended in and maybe that’s why Daniela has never noticed it before. “In here.” her mother guided.
Inside was a small library and lounge room. A fire place tucked in the corner and, of course, a wall a wine next to it. Daniela looked at her Mother questioningly.
“Listen.” her mother said, and Daniela did. She heard... nothing. Nothing outside of the quiet cracking of the fire place. “This room is sound proofed. Come here whenever you feel overwhelmed.” She leaned down to stroke her daughters head. “Just don’t tell your sisters I showed you my secret getaway room.” and with a wink, the tall woman exited the room and shut the door behind her.
The next day Daniela was at breakfast like nothing had changed. She didn’t even mind when Cassandra yelled at a maiden for breaking a plate, it only made her laugh.
(if you get overstimulated you KNOW what i’m talking about)
personal space? never heard of her.
loves to cling to Belas arm and Bela let’s her bc she thinks it’s just. so cute.
will also sometimes just crawl into her mothers lap and fall asleep. then Alcinas like: “well.. i guess i’m not moving for three hours”
Daniela: “if I run an jump at Cassandra, she’ll most certainly catch me.” *takes off in a full blown sprint*
Cassandra: “NO IM HOLDING HOT TEA—” *drops tea to catch Daniela* *proceeds to cuss her younger sister out, all while Dani is wrapped around her like a koala*
(this happens a lot. Dani will just... climb on Cassandra. piggy back rides, getting on her shoulders, wrapping her hands around her neck from behind and letting her feet drag on the floor, etc. Cassandra complains ￼adamantly but never once moves to get her off)
Cassandra: “hey Dani, I dare you too—”
Bela: “Mother said Daniela isn’t allowed to accept dares anymore.”
Daniela: “apparently I have ‘no regard for my personal safety.’”
it takes a lot for Daniela to get genuinely angry, but when she does, it’s.... bad.
Very Very Scary when mad
turns into a completely different person that you Do NOT want to fuck with
dangerous and violent
much more dark and sadistic as compared to her normal personality
came home one night covered in blood and laughing hysterically. it scared the shit out of her sisters bc if they would try and get close, she’d slash at them with her weapon.
(this was one of the only times Bela had seen Cassandra genuinely worried and afraid for their sister)
when Alcina came to see what was wrong, Daniela, still laughing madly, swung at her too. Cassandra quickly shot out her arm and grabbed Belas elbow to stop her from getting involved. Bela whipped around with a growl but Cassandras glare and squeezing nails told her to back down. Mother can handle it.
thinks it’s funny to intimidate the maidens by showing her fangs and snapping her jaw
she often likes to find Bela when she’s reading a book to convince her to read to her (Bela almost always complies)
that’s it for Daniela. just a hyperactive baby with a murder streak <3 ONTO THE FINAL SISTER
Mama’s (and I cannot stress this enough) Girl
needs constant reassurance that’s she’s doing a good job and yes this reassurance can ONLY come from her mother
this girl never sleeps, pls baby you need some rest
she spends the time she should be sleeping reading books or running errands for her mother (whether Alcina asked her to or not)
she has read almost every single book in their giant library
Cassandra doesn’t understand this at all
“Why are you always cooped up in here?” Bela glanced up over the pages of her book at her younger sister. “This is the library Cassandra. Take a wild guess.” her voice was completely level and had no inflection. Cassandra gritted her teeth, “You think your so much better than me.” Bela sighed and closed her book. She didn’t want to do this again. “No. I don’t.” she said seriously. Cassandra eyed her for a moment then looked away, Bela saw the guilt on her face before she turned on her heal. “You’re so boring.”
because she reads so much, she is incredibly smart and just knows facts about random things
Daniela, daydreaming: “I wonder why grass is green.”
Bela, immediately: “the pigment that most grasses produce, Chlorophyll, absorbs almost all blue and red light and reflects green light which is why we see green. so I mean, technically grass is every single color EXCEPT for green.
Dani, confused as fuck: ....
Cass: “Bitch, how do you even know that?”
Bela’s sisters just end up using her as Google
“Hey Bela, how far away is the moon?” “238,900 miles.”
“Hey Bela, how many different climates are there?” “Twelve”
“Hey Bela, what’s the worlds deadliest poison?” “Botulinum... why?” “No reason.” “Dani. WHY?”
“Hey Bela, how much can I sell a human skull on the black market for?” Bela, ￼concerned: “Cassandra why would—” “HOW MUCH?” “Well... are all the teeth still in tact?” “...No.” “Than only about $500.” “FUCK.”
“Hey Bela, I have this weird rash on my back and—” “Daniela. Do not finish that sentence. Go ask Mother.”
she is so quiet
and not just because she doesn’t talk very loud or even much at all. she’s just So. Silent. when she moves
just pops up in random places without anyone hearing her approach
even Daniela can’t hear her coming, which is saying something
Cassandra, minding her own business, drinking blood tea: .....
Bela, suddenly right next to her: “Hey I was wondering if— stop screaming, it’s me— have you seen Mothers lipstick? It’s missing.”
refuses any type of help with anything or else she feels like she failed that task
Never asks for help, Never asks for favors, and Never Ever will burden her Mother with any of her problems. Ever.
(Alcina thinks this is ridiculous. her eldest daughter pushes herself too hard.)
sometimes when her anxiety becomes too much she shuts down and becomes very indifferent to things around her. this has caused many fights between herself and Cassandra because Cass will get really fired up when all Bela does is respond with a monotone voice and blank stare.
overthinks literally everything and is a perfectionist
this makes her prone to panic attacks :(
when this happens she shuts herself in her room, not wanting to bother her Mother or sisters
Bela closes her bedroom door behind her and stumbles to her knees. she can’t seem to get air into her lungs no matter how hard she tried. she had failed. Mother asked her to bring her the head of that stupid man-thing, but somehow he knew their weakness.
how could he know? are Cassandra and Daniela ok? where are they? where is Mother?
Belas breathing was shallow and short, her chest burns as she presses her forehead into the ground. She claws the skin of her chest raw, leaving angry, red marks behind, desperately trying to open her lungs.
she stays as quiet as she can, only gasping few and far between. she will not be a burden. she should deal with the consequences of her failure. alone.
a sudden knock on her door makes her scramble backwards on her bottom till her back hits the opposite wall. then Belas worst nightmare, her Mothers voice.
“Bela?! Bela, is that you?” Alcinas words were rushes and worried. the door handle jiggled. “Bela, baby the door is locked, please let me in.” Bela covered her mouth and cried silently while her Mother begged to be let in.
the sound of snapping wood had Belas eyes flying open, her Mother had broken down the door. Bela shrunk into herself. She’s going to be so mad. I’m a failure. the ringing in her ears became so intense she couldn’t hear anything else.
large, soft hands cup her cheeks and a muffled voice through the air: “Bela, my love, you’re alright thank god. Are you hurt anywhere? Let me see.”
Bela pushed weakly at her Mothers arms and said between sobs, “I-I’m sorry, M-Mother.”
Alcina looked at her eldest daughter with confusion, she had no physical wounds, but the look on her face was heartbreaking. “What are you sorry for, my love?” this only made Belas breathing spend up even more, her face red from the lack of oxygen. Alcina quickly pulled her in close.
“Now Bela, listen to the sound of my voice,” she said it gently but just hard enough to grab her daughters attention. “I need you to copy my breath. Do it now, love, listen to me. Do what i’m telling you to.” Alcina took exaggerated breaths and noticed that instantly after her command, Bela had tried to follow, but the smaller girls breath was still choppy and small. Alcina rubbed a thumb across Belas cheek. “You’re doing so well baby. Keep going just like that. Good girl.” a smaller hand was placed on her arm and grabbed at her sleeve. “Good baby, use me to ground yourself. Keep breathing now, you’re doing so good.” Alcina kept whispering soft encouragements and praises until her daughters breathing was back to normal and she was laying limp on her chest.
Alcina moved the hair away from Belas face. “What a good girl, you did so well.” Bela squeezed her eyes shut and pushed into her Mother until her face was hidden. “I’m sorry Mother.” came a muffled apology, though her voice was much more steadier than before. “I failed you, I couldn’t stop the man-thing. He shot at the windows! He knows our weakness, Mother. What are we going to do? Where’s Daniela and Cassandra, are they ok? I should have stopped him for you I’m so sorry I—”
“Quiet.” Bela immediately seals her lips and looks away, already extracting herself from her Mother’s arms. She probably hates her. Alcina simple tugs her back and forces Bela to look in her eyes with a quick tap to the forehead. “Bela, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” Her daughters eyes go wide and she nods. “You have nothing to apologize for. This is not you’re fault and I will not allow you to think that way. Plus, the man-thing won’t bother us any longer, I took care of it.”
“But—” Alcina raises an eyebrow and Bela gives in, nodding hesitantly. “Good girl.” Bela exhales through her nose at the phrase and squeezes her Mother’s sleeve again. They sit like that for a few more moments, calming down.
Bela suddenly shoots up. “Daniela, Cassandra, are they—” “They’re fine my dear, Daniela got a little banged up, but Cassandra was already patching her up before I could even get close. We didn’t know where you were, that’s why I was so worried.” Bela relaxed and again nuzzled her nose into her Mother’s chest, took one more deep breath, then stood. “I’m going to go check on them.”
She steps through the now empty door frame and pauses. She spoke without turning around: “I won’t fail you again, Mother.” and shifts into a cloud of flies and disappears.
(am I projecting again? idk help)
can play the piano
no like you don’t understand, she is so good at piano
this girl has mastered songs by composers like Liszt, Beethoven, and Ravel
she’ll play for hours on end, if she starts a new ￼piece she Will Not get up until she can play it through perfectly
she pretends not to notice Cassandra secretly listening to her play, hidden behind a nearby bookshelf
while her younger sisters always jump head first into a fight, Bela takes a more calculating approach. learning her enemies movements from afar before advancing and ending it in like 3 quick moves.
“Well Bela, if Mother asked you to jump off a bridge, would you?”
Bela, already climbing over the railing: “Hm?”
and there you go for Bela! my sweet child.. please learn self-care.
*ahem* I went overboard again didn’t I? WELP. I regret nothing. Give me more headcannons.
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Hold it all together
“Hey uhm what do you think about me being your sister’s boyfriend?”
Pairing: Johnny x female!reader, childhood best friends to lovers
Genre: SMUT, FLUFF
Warnings: mentions of exchanging nudes, a lot kissing, unorotected sex, mentions of condoms, its just soft sex guys hahha mentiins of dreamies being the reader’s brothers.
A/N: NOT PROOFREAD. I’ll fix it once I have time. To the
Happy, excited, and sleepless. Today is the first day of Johnny’s spring break and he has been waiting for this day, the moment freshman year started... because this is the only time he can go home and finally see you again.
Johnny has been your childhood best friend and you two are basically inseparable. Well, except when he needed to leave for college. Of course you’re devastated the whole summer just before Johnny leaves. And it was that season, you both admitted your feelings for each other. Feelings that has been bottled up for too long finally and suddenly bursted out during a friendly kiss that turned into a passionate one which led to a slow and intimate sex the night before he left.
It has been almost half a year when that fateful night happened, but everything feels so fresh for him still. After what happened between you and Johnny, your relationship with each other did not progressed to something even more serious. Although you exchange nudes from time to time, FaceTime until the morning and say ‘i miss you’ to each other together with other sweet words.
And that is why Johnny is driving his way home to you with a bouquet of flowers on the front seat of his car, fighting through his sleepiness and keeping himself awake until he reaches your house to surprise you.
When he finally arrived first thing in the morning, he met your mom first and told you that he’s here to surprise you. “She’s still sleeping, but you can wake her up if you want to. She misses you so bad,” your mom said to Johnny. He then made this way to your room with the flowers in his hand and entered quietly, careful not to disturb your sleep. He placed the flowers on your bedside table near a photo he took for you and smiled in awe because you always cherish everything he gave you.
Feeling so sleepy and tired from the long drive, he removed his shoes and joined you under the covers. Slinging his arm around your waist and finally waking you up with soft kiss on your cheek. “I’m home,” he whispered softly. You rolled to face him, surprised but you’re both so sleepy to show it so you returned his hug and hugged him tightly. The moment you laid eyes on him, his eyes were already closed, comfortable and more than happy that he can feel your presence.
And as you both sleep together in your small bed, well, small because Johnny is a big person, you bask in his warmth and meet him in your dreams. Not wasting any second without each other.
“You must be really tired” you said when he finally woke up, raking his soft hair away from his face.
He nodded and smiled at you. Finally. He thought. “What time is it?”
“Almost afternoon. But no one cares,” you said and came closer to him, finally kissing those lips you missed so much. He rolled on top of you, putting his whole weight on you while kissing you breathlessly on the lips, neck and chest. His hands were perfectly placed on your waist, his thumb is drawing small circles on your skin and as if he’s asking permission to lift your shirt and see you without your clothes on.
He pulled away to remove his thick hoodie and plain white shirt, leaving him only with his denim pants. You noticed his body changed a lot, sure the nude photos he sends were great and it makes you miss him more, but seeing Johnny again in between your legs without a shirt on and looking hot as fuck just makes you crave for him. “This is so much better than the photos you send me,”
He let out a satisfied smile and started to unbutton his denim pants and remove it in front of you. You on the other hand, removed your pajama and welcomed him in your arms again. Kissing him deeper than ever and making him touch your boobs and squeeze them, which makes you automatically part your lips and want for more.
“Have you been fucking different girls from different sororities?” You joked in between kissing him and palming his clothed cock.
“Wouldn’t even dare. How can I even think of fucking other girls, knowing that this pussy is waiting for me?” he knew you were only joking and put his thumb on your clothed pussy. Teasing you with the right amount of pressure, careful not to make you cum so early.
“How about you? Have you been seeing other guys?” you smiled and removed your shirt, throwing it somewhere and finally exposing yourself to him. He then kissed every inch of you, hands freely roam around your body, and even tickling you from time to time.
“How can I even try seeing other guys, when I already have who I want?”
You didn’t see but Johnny smiled because of your answer while he’s placing butterfly kisses all the way down your body. Kissing you lovingly and showing you how much he misses you.
After the innocent kisses, you feel him reach for your panties and hook his fingers on the garter, slowly pulling it down while he kisses your inner thighs. Preparing you to what comes next and spreading your legs a little too harsh than expected that you yelped and your body was dragged on the mattress.
“Oops. Sorry, got carried away,” he sweetly apologized to you, kissing you on the cheek before he proceeds again.
That sudden harsh movement was the real Johnny in bed. You’ve only had sex with him once, now is only the second time. But word is, Johnny fucks hard in bed. Everyone knows that because he slept with a handful of girls during high school and you’re just this supportive friend that listens to him talk about a great night or a great fuck the other night.
“Hey,” Johnny snapped his fingers and went on top of you again, intertwining his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles before he makes you embrace him. “What’s the matter?”
“N-nothing. I’m just swimming in my thoughts. Uhm, what did you said again?”
“I asked if you want to use a condom”
“Uh. I don’t have one... do you-“
“Nope,” he said with a smirk. You suddenly remember that he loves fucking raw but what you don’t know is, you’re the first person he ever fucked raw. “Just tell me if it hurts. Again. Okay?”
He said, and you nod. Lining his cock on your entrance while he kisses your neck and kissing your boobs as he pushes in slowly. Tighter and tighter, your grip on his shoulders becomes. The familiar stretch of Johnny’s cock just makes your eyes shut and take him whole. Savouring every thrust he gives you, feeling every inch of cock inside you. It’s so big, you tell to yourself.
“Sorry, it’s bigger now because I’m so horny and I haven’t had sex since our last” he explained with ragged breaths near your ear.
“It’s okay,” is all you can manage to say.
He fucked you slow and deep or fast and sloppy. Either way it felt good and it surprised you how long you lasted this time.
Then suddenly he pulled away, spreading your legs wider as he changes his position. Having a better view of your bouncing boobs and fucked expression that never fails to turn him on. “Fuck Y/n,” he whined and reached for your boobs as he moves slower. Matching your moans and groans because he’s so close too. He then closes the space between you two and kissed you on the lips again like you’re about to disappear any second. Holding on to your body so tight that you’re sure it’s going to leave marks. Then suddenly your eyes rolled back and you’re breathing heavily and moaning a little too loud but no one will hear. Your orgasm completely washed you away and its all thanks to Johnny.
You smiled at him and reached for kisses to calm both of you down. “Was it a good one?” He was talking about the orgasm.
“The. Best.” You said in between kissing. “Did you come inside me?” He shook his head no. “Good. I’m not on the pill,”
“Kind of made a mess tho,” he looked to the direction of where he shoot his cum and it was on your lower abdomen and bed sheets. It was thick. His cum was so thick and many, that he was already embarrassed.
“Is it obvious that i missed you?” He asked. Kissing you on your forehead sincerely before he proceeds to clean his mess up.
“I think I need to shower,” you said.
“Okay, I’ll cover for you,”
While you were busy cleaning yourself, Johnny made himself decent again and decided to go downstairs to greet Mark and Jeno, your brothers. And eventually have breakfast with them.
“Hey uhm what do you think about me being your sister’s boyfriend?” He casually asked them and stuffed sausage in his mouth.
“Heck yeah that’s what I’m talking about man! Yo, just dont hurt her” Mark exclaimed in excitement thens suddenly turned serious.
“I won’t,” Johnny answered.
“And don’t make her miss you too much because you know we cant trust long distance relationship these days,” Jeno added.
Johnny agrees and said, “I will visit her every month”
“Don’t get her pregnant. I mean yet- get her pregnant when it’s the righ time- you get what i mean” Mark awkwardly added.
“O...kay. I’ll use condoms from now on. Anything else?”
“Dude just make her happy like you always do,”
“I will” Johnny said with a proud smile.
“Aren’t you boys should be cleaning the pool?” And the two boys immediately scrammed and quickly did their chores. Leaving you and Johnny in the kitchen with the food. Pinching Johnny’s cheek because now that you can see him clearly, you see a lot of changes.
“Only you can do that to me” he said then caught your hand and intertwined it with yours, he has become bold you notice. He pulled you closer to him while he finishes his juice, but the atmosphere is hetting a little stuffy and awkward so you tried having a conversation.
“Do you want to shower? I still have some of your clothes” you offered.
“Mhmm. Keep those, I have stuff in my car”
You nod and suddenly it was silent.
“Hey y/n, I was thinking of making it official between us. I mean if you want to. I just think that we’ve been flirting with each other for some time now and wed make a pretty good team,”
“ I thought you’d never ask. Took you longer than expected tho,” you put another sausage in his mouth ”The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is to love, and be loved in return.”
“Im just scared to fuck it up,” he sighed in relief “thank you for loving me back. I promise to take care of you 5000 more times than before”
“I’ll do the same... and wow you just asked me to be your girlfriend in the middle of our kitchen. How romantic.” He smiled handsomely then suddenly remembered one last thing.
“Oh by the way we uhm we need to start using condoms. I promised mark,”
“I know right. Fucking you raw is good but your brother said to not get you pregnant”
“Ugh mark...” you moved your chair and hugged him tightly feeling him kiss the top of your head and cheek nonstop while you continue to eat.
The day may have started filthily, but it ended with a decently soft kiss on your temple from your best friend now boyfriend.
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“𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐛𝐫𝐨?”
your irritating step brother likes to come in your room during your zoom classes.
PAIRING: stepbro!gojo satoru x f!reader
GENRE(S): smut, quarantine!au (au? LMAO), college!au, taboo
WORD COUNT: 2.7k
WARNING(S): darkish, smut, drug use (weed), high sex, stepcest, taboo, slight dubcon, slight manipulation, exhibitionism (if you squint), sensory deprivation (blindfold), degradation, size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), squirting, dacryphilia (if you squint)
(A/N): this rly do be my first time using proper capitalization huh, anyways all characters, SORRY I FORGOT TO ADD THE READ MORE I FIXED IT
One thing you easily learned about Satoru was the fact he wasn’t easy to satisfy. He’s demanding, cocky, all the while being nonchalant. He rarely exerts effort, but gets the desired results. He’s arrogant, but it’s nearly impossible to point out a flaw to counter it at all.
It makes your head hurt. It makes your teeth clench.
When you make eye contact, you make sure to stare back daggers. When you’re forced to talk to him, your voice stays monotone and expressionless. When you’re in a room with him for more than five minutes, your earbuds are already out, drowning out the sound of his voice. But it’s all difficult when you’re under the same roof.
You roll your eyes at the sound of your step brother knocking your door, wondering what the hell he wants now. At this point, he’s probably just trying to annoy you, poke at your sides until he gets attention, any kind of attention, all just to satisfy his boredom.
Your calm demeanor and sharp tongue has always contrasted with Satoru’s teasing attitude. He’s always seemingly trying to provoke you, trying to pry apart the walls you’ve barricaded yourself in. His personality never rubbed you in the right way from the day your dad surprised you with a dinner with your new brother and your new mom. It didn’t matter anyways, you thought. You’d be going off to university soon enough.
The pandemic ran over all of your plans like a truck.
Better yet, your parents still had work without the option of staying home, leaving you and Satoru home alone for a little over eight hours a day. When he wasn’t in class or tutoring his juniors, he was knocking at your door, most likely red-eyed, though you can’t see it, and relaxed. Despite his persistence, you rarely let him in no matter how insistent he is in “getting to know his new lil sister.”
“Go away, Satoru.”
Behind the door, he pouts while you scribble down notes from the screenshared presentation. He comes in anyways, reeking of marijuana and cologne, half of his shirt buttons undone. You steal a small glance before once again glueing your eyes to your computer screen. The voice of your professor bores you, but you’re hyper aware of Satoru’s presence as he makes himself comfortable on your bed. “Get the fuck off! You stink!” You yell, turning off your camera before throwing a pencil right at him.
He catches it mid air with ease, relaxing his head on your pillows while fiddling with one of your many Sanrio plushies. “Can I have this?” he asks, holding one up as you contemplate its value in your head.
“If it gets you out of my room, then sure.” you reply in a monotone voice, turning back to your notes.
“You’re no fun,” he mumbles, rolling over to lay on his side with the plushie in his arms, “Is that organic chem?”
“Yeah, can you go now?”
“I’ll be quiet, princess. Don’t worry about me, just wanna know what my lil sis is up to.” He waits for a response, but is only rewarded with a huff.
It stays like that for the next ten minutes, him watching your professor’s lecture, you scrambling to write all of the information on the slides as he continues the fast paced lesson. You’re hyper focused on your class, putting in your effort to absorb the entirety of the content. In your mind, the only people in your room are your and your computer. “You know, you don’t have to understand everything all at once,” a voice speaks up from behind you, causing you to purse your lips in annoyance, “It’s easier to learn when you’re actually paying attention to the lecture instead of focusing on trying to get everything down.
“We get it, Satoru. You have straight A’s and you’re naturally good at everything.”
“Hey, you’re getting advice from an aspiring teacher. Don’t need to use that tone with me, Princess.” He mumbles, rolling to his back on the bed, “Just tryna help you out in my free time.”
“I don’t need your help.”
He stays silent while you go back to drawing some of your basic compounds. Ethanol, methanol, propane, all of it. Your scribbles are messy and they progressively fill out the page in your notebook. You hear a tsk behind you, rolling your eyes as you prepare for another criticism from Satoru. Sure, he was probably right, but you refuse to feed into his ego. “Does he not link the slides to you guys or something?” he asks, this time with a friendlier tone.
“He does.” you reply, swiveling your chair until you’re facing him. He’s laying on his side again, his shirt spilling off his shoulder as your breath hitches at the sight. The blindfold is snug against his face, his hair pushed up. You’re sure that the stink of marijuana has rubbed onto your sheets and you make a mental note to wash them after class. “Then get high with me.”
“I’m in the middle of class, dumbass.”
“But you can always look at the slides later.” he suggests, “Plus, you’ve looked super stressed lately. Wonder why.”
Because of you, you want to say, but you stop yourself, opting to stay silent while pondering the offer. “Sure.”
He excitedly walks back to his room, returning to your bed seconds later with a joint between his fingertips. “This your first time?”
“Ooooo,” he hums like a child, “That’s what you’re up to when we’re not around, huh?” he teases and you shake your head with a smile forming on your face.
He shrugs, holding the joint up to your lips and lighting up the tip. You suck in the smoke into your lungs, holding it in, before exhaling out the screen door of your window. He takes a hit, opening his mouth and inhaling through his nose then passing it back to you. Your professor’s lecture fades into background noise as you fixate on Satoru, finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for weeks. He makes a mental note to offer you weed the next time he’s overcome by boredom.
The high hits you almost immediately. You’ve never had anything this strong and it’s liberating. You feel weightless, but your eyelids feel heavy. Your face is awfully warm and lifted and your vision gets more and more blurry by the second. The intoxication is pleasant, the present worries in your head being cut off as you focus on what’s right in front of you.
Satoru, your dear, irritating step brother who was kind enough to share the weed he stashes in his drawer. It’s getting harder and harder to hate him and you can’t reason why you felt so many negative emotions that you projected onto him at all. Sure, your room reeks and it’s all because of him, but the sight of him laying on your bed in a shirt that barely covers up his upper body makes your underwear feel uncomfortable. You don't know where it’s coming from, but shutting it out was easy when you’re sober. Key word: sober.
You stand from your desk, making your way to your bed and laying next to him. Both of you face each other, easily getting comfortable, warmth radiating off his body. It feels oddly intimate and your thighs press together in order to suppress the lustful feeling that takes over your body. Your arm comes around to the back of his head, tugging on the fabric that covers his eyes. “Can I take it off?”
He lifts his head, allowing you to pull on the knot until it becomes undone. You don’t know what you were expecting, maybe a scar or something, but you’re in awe of the blue orbs that make you feel like you were staring into infinity. They’re bloodshot and half lidded and it’s when one fact you really didn’t want to accept hits you.
Satoru Gojo is one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen.
And he’s your step brother.
Uneasiness stirs in your lower tummy and you curse at whatever higher power that decided to give you this type of luck, but a hand on your hip trails to your back, pulling your closer and closer until your faces are at a dangerous distance. You can feel your cheeks becoming alarmingly hot and you hate that you can’t blame it on the weed. His hand comes up to your cheeks, his thumb stroking the soft skin. “Thought you wanted me to go away?”
“Changed my mind.” you whisper, eyes slowly closing, lips parting open as you wait for him to lean in and close the gap.
“Hmm? What’s this?” he sneers, causing your eyes to shoot open and your body to jolt up from your bed. The hazy feeling on your head still remains, making it hard to stand completely straight. “Get out.” you sternly demand, leaning back on your desk chair and pointing towards your door.
“Why should I? I don’t think you really want me to leave, babe.” He props his head on his hand, leaning his elbow onto your mattress.
“What’s wrong? We’re just two people hanging out on a bed. Unless you were trying to do something else, dirty girl.”
“I- I wasn’t! You’re my step brother!”
“Step brother.” He repeats, justifying your actions.
You’re shaking, guilt occupying your mind keeping you distracted. It’s the perfect time for Satoru to get comfortable in the space between your legs, pulling down your loose shorts and taking you by surprise. Before you have a chance to protest, his nose brushes against your sensitive core, making you let out a squeak. “W-We can’t do this!”
“Didn’t you want this?” he questions, looking up at you with wide eyes, “Wanted me to take care of this pretty little pussy, right?”
You know you should be refusing. You know you should be pushing him out your door. But it’s so hard when his pupils are dilated and the grip on the sides of your thighs feels so right. At this point, you’re not thinking, only nodding along to whatever he’s saying, anticipating his next actions.
“So wet.” He mumbles, pulling down the flimsy fabric and throwing it off somewhere in the room. He licks a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, sucking softly on the pearl while holding you down as the pleasure causes you to jolt upwards. He sucks and slurps like it’s his last meal, making your empty walls pulsate and little whines along with to leave your lips. Looking down, your eyes meet his, the lower half of his face immersed in your cunt.
The wet muscle fucks into you, curling and pressing against your walls, while his thumb rubs against your little clit. He hits all the right spots that make you squirm, pushing your legs wide open to see more of your ruined pussy. The wetness collects on his mouth, his chin, and his cheeks, filling him with a sick sense of satisfaction. “Such a whore, aren’t ya?” he pulls away to comment, but your fingers thread through his hair, pushing his head back where you need him most.
The action is assertive, something he usually hates dealing with. Though this time, he’s filled with a sick sense of pride at the fact that he was able to turn you, someone who seemed to hate him with a burning passion, into a moaning mess with just his mouth. He hums satisfactorily, sending vibrations into your sensitive core that make your thighs shaky.
You’re already cumming in an embarrassingly short time, gushing all over his face while he laps up all the juices you have to offer.
Before you can process anything else, his lips capture yours, lifting your body and dropping you onto your bed. You look at him with half lidded eyes, still sensitive from your last orgasm, while he pulls off his own clothes. His length rests on the inside of your thigh and he’s huge, so huge that it feels heavy against your skin and it scares you. “Satoru, I don’t think I can take you-”
“Shhh, princess,” he reassures you, “You started this. You have to take it.”
He doesn’t give you a chance to speak, taking the fabric of his blindfold and covering your eyes, tying a tight knot on the back of your head. This isn’t right, a voice in your head tells you, but you ignore it because Satoru treats you so well. He keeps you company, gives you some of his weed, eats your pussy without you having to ask him.
The only thing you can see is black and you whine. You so badly want to see Satoru’s pretty face, his chiseled body, his thick cock, but your thoughts are interrupted by the fat tip prodding at your tiny hole. “Too big..” your voice trails off as your mind is lifted, only the feeling of him splitting you in half remaining. You’ve never felt so full and it feels so dirty, yet your slick says otherwise, betraying any rational part that still resides in your body.
“I got you, Princess, don’t worry.” He slurs, drunk on the sensation of your snug walls. The stretch strings, whimpers spilling from your lips, but his cock hits every spot like no other. By the time he’s fully inside of you, it feels like he’s actually in your guts and it’s all intensified by the isolated feeling, not being able to see him at all. Every bite on your shoulder, every kiss on your open mouth, every delicious drag on your gummy walls is amplified.
You’re already cumming around him, a ring of cream forming on his cock as he gazes down at your bare body, wrapping his lips around a sensitive nipple. You squeal, your breath hitching at the same time you clamp down around his throbbing length. “Already? Such a sensitive little princess, aren’t you?” He mutters in your ear, your nails digging into his shoulders, piercing the pale skin. Tears spill from your eyes, flowing down the sides of your face.
His teeth sink into your shoulder and you want to tell him to stop, but the words don’t quite leave your lips. Only babbling noises accompanied by the wet sounds of your cunt and skin slapping against skin. He’s still pounding into your cervix at a relentless pace, in awe of how your slick drips down his balls and onto the white sheets.
Every time he hits that sweet spot, there’s an odd feeling that forms, like you’re about to make a mess. And when your next orgasm washes over you in intense waves of euphoria, a clear liquid spurts from your cunny, coating his lower stomach and your inner thighs. “Who knew my little princess was such a messy girl?” he taunts, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.
“Don’t worry about it,” he leans in close, his lips dangerously close to your ear, “I’ll clean it all up.”
His smooth voice causes you to squeeze around him, almost like you don’t want him to ever leave your cunt, and it gets harder and harder for him to move. “Fuck, baby you’re so tight, need you to loosen up,” he mumbles, his own orgasm finally approaching, your little cunny milking him for all he’s worth.
He’s rambling little praises, hot pleasure elevated by the high, his hips stuttering and his cock stuffing you to the brim with his warm seed. You both lay there, still intertwined and his body resting on top of yours.
“Ms. (L/N)! Did you have any questions about my lesson today?”
Your face drops in horror, your hand immediately pulling off the blindfold, as you push Satoru away from you and press the leave button on Zoom. A mix of your juices drop onto the floor and he chuckles, pulling you back to bed. “This isn’t over.”
He pins you back onto the mattress, his cock twitching at the sight of your leaking cunt, pulling your thighs until you’re close and pinning them to your chest. In one swift movement, his entire cock is shoved into your cunt, his balls slapping against the flesh of your ass with every thrust, fucking his cum back into your womb.
Gojo Satoru would never be satisfied.
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Princess of the Outerbanks (1)
Description: a good night with the pogues leads to things
Warnings: swearing, female reader so please if that’ll cause you gender dysmorphia please don’t read, a gender neutral an male reader series will be coming soon.
word count: 603 short but only the beginning
edited: yes but I'm slow so maybe not also
“Okay but where did you get your top, it's so cute” Sarah asked as we all sat around a fire at the chateau. I sat next to JJ with my legs tucked to my chest. “I upcycled it, but the original shirt I thrifted and cut the tag off. You can have it though.” She smiled, “Seriously? I don’t wanna literally take the shirt off your back.” “No Sarah for real take it, if you don’t I'll end up putting it on my depop so either way I'm not keeping it. I’ll wash it and give it to you tomorrow.” She nodded and smiled wide. “Well shit, I'm coming shop in your closet too.” Kiera joined in the conversation.
“Please do, I need a reason to convince my moms to finance my clothing addiction.” the whole time I was conversing with the girls I felt JJ staring at me. “Doesn’t the princess get an allowance.” “yeah but this month I gave a lot of it to help Kiera clean up the beach, and buy my brothers birthday gift so it’s mostly gone I'm saving the rest for emergencies.”
He just smirked at me. “What?” again nothing but a smirk. I pushed his face softly to direct his gaze somewhere else. “She hit me! Y’all saw that! we can sue her for some money. Shit ow I'm hurt. I think you poked my eye out” he made the whole group erupt in laughter. “I can’t see now. You know how many girl are gonna kill you just because you almost messed up these eyes.”
“Either give me 2 million dollars are I'm pressing charges.” he threw his arm around my shoulder. “I’ll let you know when I get 2 million dollars sir, but right now I have 20 bucks to my name” “I’ll take it!”
About 30 minutes later we were all sitting in comfortable silence JJ’s arm still around me but he still kept a bit of distance between us. “I’m gonna go grab another beer, anyone else want one?” They all said yes, “here I'll come help you” both JJ and I got up and walked inside the chateau. He went to the fridge and started placing 6 beers on the counter. “You know y/l/n you look hot tonight”
“thanks Maybank you look pretty hot also.” I hopped on the counter and just stared at him. He walked to me and stood between my legs. He moved his face close to mine. I could feel his breath on my lips. we just stared into each others eyes.
“...kiss me JJ.” he bit his lip and let out a little laugh. “I could definitely do that...” he got even close, “I could kiss you right now, give in to the desires I know we both have, one movement forward and I could end the endless want we both have towards each other.” My breath hitched and my heart was pounding, my head was roaming with many thoughts of me begging him to kiss me.
He got closer so I closed my eyes expecting to finally feel his lips against mine, except that didn’t happen. Instead I felt his lips against my cheek. “But I won’t. This is all on you princess, you want something to happen between us then make your move.” he went to walk away but I grabbed his shirt pulling him back. “Nuh uh, sorry princess but not tonight. Your gonna have to wait a little bit longer.”
He grabbed three beers and headed outside. I stayed and just got myself composed. “Fuck, he’s gonna be the death of me”
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I just had the biggest brainrot idea for the Nature God reader.
I saw that one drawing that someone made of what they thought the reader would look like (that was poorly described- good art, by the way!). The leaves that were on the "God Form" gave me an idea.
What if the Nature God reader had a tail of leaves, vines, and flowers that was like a peacock tail? Like, it sometimes just f l o o f s up and shows off all the pretty plants, but when it's closed it just sticks out of the reader's clothes and drags along the ground-
DreamXD pov? referred to as “X”; why did I make a story from such a small detail, idk
. . .
He could see you from afar easily, your appearance sticking out against the greens of the forest. You’re leaning against a fence, overlooking the village below. The town looks brilliant tonight, vibrant with life. Lanterns shine below in the night sky, some floating far above the people. A festival is being held tonight, an annual event to celebrate life apparently. But, the gods did not care for these events, so why did you?
Mulling over the thought, he nears your side. Standing close, his wings tucking to his figure to take up less space. His eyes catch sight of your tail, the feathers shifting with his presence. Out of all the hybrid features you took on, he admired this one the most. Numerous flowers, vines and plants lie amongst the feathers, woven in between beautifully.
“Why are you here?” You sigh, sinking more weight into the fence post. You don’t turn when talking to him, still facing forward.
“What, can I not visit an old friend?”
“No.” X can feel his stomach drop with disappointment momentarily but he knows you’re just teasing. He can hear the light tone of your voice after all. The god inches closer, leaning against the fence as well. His shoulder brushes against yours briefly, the touch airy.
Tonight is decent enough for a festival, he can at least admit that. The weather isn’t too cold just after a recent rain. Dew drops still glide along blades of grass, dimming in the light. From this distance, he could still see glimpses of humans mingling with one another. Speaks of skin tones drift around the area aimlessly.
“Why do you love the humans so much? They haven't done anything for us.” He can’t help but ask the question. He didn’t understand your passion for the mortals. A good god will reward their followers, not interact with them. You tilt your head to the side, sighing softly.
“They’re gentle and kind.” You pause momentarily, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “They love. Not just each other but the simplest of things. I want to feel that kind of warmth.”
He doesn’t get it. He’s dealt with humans before and they were never this kind. They never felt love or compassion for something other than killing. You have the benefit of seeing the humans nurture. But, he can only see them at their worst. He shakes his head, jewelry chiming with the sudden movement.
“We can love, can we not?”
“Not in the same way that they do.” You’re silent after that. He can see your foot tapping lightly out of the corner of his eye. You’re thinking about something, obviously. He’s known you long enough to remember the smallest hints you give away for each action. So, he doesn’t speak, waiting for you to. It’s a comfortable silence while he waits. Lazily, he admires the fireflies in the distance, watching the bugs light up occasionally.
“She described it to me.”
He’s talking about the girl from earlier. The one I saw him with the other day. The mortal.
X gazes at your figure carefully. He is silent, urging the younger god to continue talking. Your hand drifts to your chest, clenching softly.
“She described how she feels about me. How she gets excited from seeing me or the way her stomach tosses and turns.”
“An illness?” X raises an eyebrow behind his mask. You laugh lightly, cheeks getting warm at the mention of the girl. You shake your head faintly.
“No, not exactly? It’s a feeling. Warm, soft and comforting. I think, I feel the same way.”
X is quiet again. His own hand floats to his chest, hovering above the spot where his heart would be. Has he felt that way before, around anyone? It sounds nice. It would be a change from the wrath he normally felt. Despite the peaceful moment, X can’t help but express his worries.
“A god shouldn't feel this way around a mortal.” You’re quiet. Solemn, even. Your tone is much more serious after that point.
“I should report you.”
“But, you won’t.” A pause, almost not worth mentioning.
“...But, I won’t. They’ll find out in the future, about you. About her. The council, they could hurt you both. Are you really fine with that?” For the first time that night, X turns to face you completely. He debates taking off his mask but the need to hide behind it is far too immense. You shift to look at him, smiling sadly.
“I think that they’ll only hurt me. Perhaps, take away her memories. The council doesn't like hurting humans, not when they worship us.”
“Do you really want to go through all of this for one human?” You shake your head. He doesn’t understand.
“I wouldn’t do this for any human. I’m doing this because it’s her.”
“I don’t want you to do this.”
“But, why?” You’re genuinely confused by the statement, tilting your head with the emotion.
Because you’re my friend. Because I’ll be alone. Because I don’t want to see you get hurt. Because I don’t want you to forget me. So many reasons, excuses, words tumble through X’s mind. All are left unsaid.
Your tail dips when he doesn’t respond. It is flattering that he is concerned, in your opinion. You shift away, reaching behind yourself. A gentle hand caresses the peacock-like tail, gracing each flower and plant. A bunch of honeysuckle is plucked from the feathers, the flowers blooming in your hold.
You hold the flower out to your companion. “I’ll always be by your side.” You grin, pushing it out to him. “As long as I’m alive, this flower will be too. That way you don’t have to worry!”
That’s not what X is worried about but he chooses not to say anything. Carefully, he takes the flowers from your hold, letting them rest in his palms. They don’t look nearly as beautiful in his hands, yet the petals continue to shine. He mumbles a soft ‘thank you’ in appreciation.
The two turn back to look at the festival. They stand in silence, only minutes later does a crackling noise flush through the air. An item spirals into the sky from afar, exploding in mid passage. A firework lights up the sky in bright hues. More follow after that. You exclaim giddily, watching the view with amazement. His attention should be on the firework display but it is stuck on you. The way the fireworks light up your body and the colors of your tail. Said feature puffs up, almost expanding completely unbeknownst to you.
X sighs, adjusting the mask over his face slightly. With no intent to ruin your night, he simply watches the fireworks go off above in silence. Your amusement for these humans and their inventions, that would be your downfall. His fists clench by his side. He wants to be angry, to shout but now is not the time.
Besides, you promised that you’d stay by his side. That you would stay safe. Nothing will happen. The human will die with time and you will move on. You’ll be his friend again. These mindless reassurances comfort the god. Lies are more harmful than the truth but they will always taste sweeter. And, in that moment X doesn’t care what lies he needs to tell himself. They’ll hurt less than the future that awaits the pair.
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