#‘n something silly / sweet :3
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l3viat8an · 2 months ago
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MC: On a scale of one to ten, you're a nine, because I'm the one you need~ *winks*
Asmo: You’re a ten.
MC: What? No… Asmo it’s a pickup line-
Asmo:*cupping MC’s face and giving them a kiss before each word* You. Are. A. TEN.
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angeltism · 1 year ago
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willow may or may nawt have just noticed the Actual Built In "how to" section . I swear to all that is good in this world this little-
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tonycries · 3 months ago
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Haunting You - G.S.
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Synopsis. A bIoody trail of vampire attácks, a political marriage, and four suitors you’re forced to choose from - all haunting you. But none as much as the mysterious stranger that makes everything in you scream that you might just be fated for the very thing your kingdom is trying to escape from.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! princess! reader, king! Gojo, vampire AU, he’s actually ÍNSANE, royalty AU, arranged marriages, creampíes, breéding, fated mátes, FÉRAL down bad Gojo, mentions of bIood and kílling, bíting, óral (fem receiving), spítting, marks (a LOT), fíngering, pórn with plot tbh, overstím, ínnapropriate use of powers, jealous! Gojo, slight inspiration from Persephone and Hades, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 15.8k (HUH???)
A/N. Was listening to Haunted by Beyoncé, and my mind went “ooo vampires.” Hope y’all have a lovely week <3
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In all your years being carefully primed to take over the throne, there have only been two rules you were raised under:
You live by the crown, and you will die by the crown. No matter what. 
To stop the vampires - if your father, the king, fails to contain the bloody trail of killings before his own inevitable death, you have to. Or, more according to those tedious meetings with the table of elders, your husband will have to.
And it seems as if they were well and fully intent on enforcing that last rule as of late - with sharply increasing numbers of attacks on your local towns, the public was growing restless - and so was the royal court. 
You weren’t doing any better either - but for a wholly different reason.  
Maybe it was paranoia, but these days, you found yourself constantly catching a flash of crystal blue in the corner of your eye. Or hearing a sweet, sweet whisper in your ear deep at night. Maybe even a soft run of fingers down your spine as you were readied for yet another ball - hands much too large to be any of your ladies-in-waiting.
Like something was watching. 
Waiting. 
“And then I- your highness, are you listening?”
That familiar, grating voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you’re gasping in embarrassment as you turn back to the prattling man in front of you. 
“My apologies, Lord Naoya.” you smile tightly, desperate to finish up yet another conversation about his latest cavalry expeditions. Nodding dismissively, “Just tired, please continue with your ah- wonderful tales.”
But of course, when he starts right back from the very beginning to ���cover the key points you missed”, your stomach turns when you realize that you won’t be escaping any time soon. Great. Wonderful. Perfect.
God, future suitors your ass. You’d been taught that there’s no such company as “bad company” when you’re an heir to a kingdom, but this has been the fourth royal ball this month - and the biggest one yet. The fourth night you had to listen to another uptight lord show off his sparse battle medals, or another elder snide about how you’d be useless against the dangers of vampires.
You knew it was likely some coping mechanism with the grim deaths this week, but surely the nobles were tired of all this silly dancing? You sure were. 
Gauzy dress just a bit too tight, sighs just a bit too loud than was permitted for the princess, you let your gaze wander across the brilliant ballroom. Those intricate gowns, the huge reflective wall, those little pastries you really wish you could walk away from this conversation and-
Blue. 
Crystal blue.
“Wait! Did you see-” you startle, and it disappears as fast as it appeared. Your heavy skirts sway as you whirl around to uselessly track that odd burst of color, “Did you see that?”
“I know!” Naoya gasps, making you turn your head in excitement. “The light reflects off my medal so gorgeously! Oh, and this one-”
Dammit. 
All through your life, it was this same color that’d been flitting occasionally through your vision, now haunting you almost every day.
You didn’t know where to look to find that familiar blue again - and you didn’t want to stand here waiting to find out. At the very least, your ears have definitely been assaulted with enough talk about horses and how “absolutely enormous” Lord Naoya’s weaponry at the Zenin Estate was.
Compensating, you muse.
The thought helps you plaster on a grin to your face, humming in a saccharine-sweet tone, “It pains me to cut through, my lord.” It really didn’t. “And I’d love to chat more later, but I think I hear my lady-in-waiting calling for me.”
He sputters, breathing out a few profanities under his breath that you catch. An arm raising as if to keep you in place, “Now, wait a minute-”
You’re angling your body expertly to make your dash. Batting your lashes deceivingly innocently, “Oh? What was that?” you cup your ear. “I hear her again- I really do apologize, but feel free to recount your valiant um- fairy tales in a letter.”
“But your father-”
Not waiting to hear the rest of his response, you barely even bother with a polite curtsy before determinedly weaving your way through the stuffy ballroom. Nodding by the nobles greeting you, waving past the throng of young lords that wanted to reel you into more conversation. Your satiny feet taking you anywhere but here - anywhere but where you could feel the still, heavy gaze of something burning into your back as you escaped. 
You just prayed that it was only a miffed Naoya and nothing else.
It was around this time that the orchestra struck up another upbeat waltz, and with most people pairing off on the dance floor, barely anyone noticed you tip-toeing out of the ballroom. 
“God-” you’re letting out a sigh of relief when you reach the long hallway, rubbing at your throbbing temples. “The next ball they host, m’gonna conveniently disappear, I swear.”
You didn’t care enough for what matchmaking would happen in the future anyway, no matter what the elders may tell you. 
Your ballgown swishes with every urgent step through the quiet, dimly-lit corridors. Maybe a bit too quiet. 
Strange. You knew that not many nobles would be wandering around the palace during a ball but, surely you can’t be the only one here? Where were the guards?
Just then, a soft winter breeze puffs against your left ear - and you inhale sharply. “Wha- hello?” you shudder, gaze darting around. “Anyone there?” But when only silence greets you, you’re struck with the sudden thought that the windows along the hallway were closed. 
Where did the wind come from?
The realization has you taut with goosebumps pricking at your skin, your pace increasing ever-so-slightly. Gulping, you round the corner quickly, making a beeline for the closest haven you could find - the library.
Ducking past the towering stone archway, you hastily slam the door closed. It takes you a few seconds to get used to the darkness inside. With silvery moonlight ribbons filtering in through the curtained windows, you could just barely make out the rows upon rows of books you’d pestered your father into lining. Surrounded by heavyset tables, and your favorite, cushioned armchair. Luxurious, yet completely dwarfed when seating the lone silhouette-
“If this is an attack, then I surely don’t mind.”
“Fuck-” you scream, reflexively grabbing the nearest book spine you could reach to throw in the direction of the shadow. “Show yourself.”
Somehow, it’s as if the book bounces off an invisible forcefield, plopping down unceremoniously onto the velvety carpet right in front of the tall figure. 
“And here I thought princesses usually curtseyed.” that deep, honeyed voice cuts right through your heavy breathing. He makes a move to get up - languid, and torturous, as if he enjoyed your agonizing suspense. “Well, maybe I do prefer being pelted by a- hey, that doesn’t mean pick up another book!”
In a split-second, you were brandishing a weighty encyclopedia this time - holding it firmly behind your head in a ready stance to throw once again. 
“Show yourself.”
The man sighs, stepping into a channel of low light. It illuminated his stature - taller than you’d thought, towering well above most of the generals in the royal court. Muscled, yet lean - powerful, the thought strikes you. Magnetizing. 
Someone from outside the kingdom, you observe, otherwise you’d have remembered that cloudy white hair, strands falling over a strange, black blindfold stretched across the upper half of his face. Leaving you only a set of high cheekbones, and a pert, pretty mouth to admire.
One that curls into such a mischievous smirk of neat pearly whites, and a tiny dimple digging into his cheek. “Now, I’ve never had anyone this eager to see me.” He drops into a courteous bow at the waist, expensive blue fabrics rippling. “From the North kingdom, Satoru, at your service, princess.”
Your hand falters - partially because of the heavy weight, partially because you recognised that gold “G” insignia in the middle of this stranger- Satoru’s uniform. The Gojo family. 
That mysterious, estranged kingdom from the Northern part of the country that hadn’t been seen since you were young. You’d heard stories of them - everyone in this vast country had, it was impossible not to. Of their cruel winters and even crueler king, how blood stained every room in his palace. It was rumored he was a monster, and yet, no one ever saw his face - if they did, they never lived to tell the tale. 
You knew your father had invited the king to every single ball out of diplomatic obligation, but he’d never attended. Never even bothered to respond. 
So who was this?
“No one. Just a lowly attendant accompanying my king, your highness.” you’re jolting when he purrs, a brow quirking at just how he knew what you were thinking. “The question ah- showed on your face, my apologies.”
Finding your voice, “Um, I apologize, too, Satoru-” You note the lack of a last name, “-for the book. I can’t imagine being hit with Yaga’s 1001 Methods to Crochet was a very warm welcome.” And like a little truce, you’re placing down the encyclopedia in your hand. Flashing him your most practiced smile, “I bet you’re hiding out here for the same reasons as me, then.”
That draws out a pretty laugh from him, bubbly and boyish. “Mhm, the ladies just refuse to leave you alone, too?”
“Well, more like the lords there.”
He hums, something that sends a chill down your spine. Words just a little strained, “Not much for bragging about horses?” 
And suddenly, you get the urge to snark back, huffing in a way you know your preparational teacher would faint at. “Absolutely not. I’d rather face a vampire than listen to Naoya and the “absolutely enormous” weaponry he uses to-”
“-compensate!”
“-compensate.” the two of you finish at the same time. “I like this place a lot better, it’s quiet- though…” your voice trails off in wonder. “It’s strange, guests aren’t supposed to be allowed in the library unsupervised.” His jaw clenches when your eyes sweep him, “We are supposed to have a few guards here but I don’t know where-”
All of a sudden, it’s like you’re being splashed with cold water. And your words are dying on your tongue when the room drops a few degrees in temperature. 
Satoru is unnervingly still, yet he catches onto your slight shiver. “This damned wind, am I right?” And he’s gesturing at the windows with his head. The closed windows. Words tumbling quickly from those pink lips now, “Anyways- why don’t you sit down-” He prowls towards you, slow, confident. Large hands rest at your arms, they’re pale, surprisingly cold - guiding you easily to sit on the unoccupied armchair. “-since m’being nice enough to let you hide out here.”
His words drip with tease, and you still couldn’t see his eyes, but you imagined they’d be twinkling. No one ever dared to speak to you this way - it was always either thinly-veiled condescension or fear towards royalty. 
Surprisingly, you didn’t mind. 
You roll your eyes, trying to hold back your smile. “Yeah? Well what do I owe you in return for that, Satoru?”
His lips part, as if not expecting this response. Before letting out another sharp cackle at your expense, “Well, why don’t you-” You can’t tear your eyes away from his magnetic figure when Satoru begins unbuttoning his flowing coat to reveal a snow-white shirt underneath. Wrapping it snug around your shoulders in one, fluid motion, a hand of his tilts your head towards him. “-give me your soul?”
The Gojo emblem burns into your back, and Satoru’s deep, almost raspy tone rings in your ears. It sounded like a joke - but looking into his ethereal features, there was no trace of a grin on what you could see of it. And once again, you’re struck by the pure power radiating off of him. 
You hoped it was a joke.
“S-soul’s not for sale.” you manage to choke out, trying to make it look like you weren’t breathing in his metallic, peppermint scent. Heady. Pulling the soft fabric tighter around your cold body, “Steep price for a hideout, don’t you think?”
“S’a discount for you, flower.” his chilling breath fans your face. Letting out hushed, “Heh, you should see the prices I charge others.”
You’re reeling, face burning, “Flower?”
“Because you’re shaking like one, see?” The pads of his fingers move from under your chin to trace up, up, up the goosebumps on your exposed arms. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to pull away.
Hypnotic. 
And his steps are soundless as he walks over behind you, the moonlight giving him an angelic halo. Haunting, almost. “And you’re just as gorgeous, like a wild rose. Way too gorgeous for the fuckin’ bastards out there, might I add, princess.”
The nerve!
Heart pounding, you turn around to- call him out for his disrespect? Snap back? Accept the compliment?
You don’t know - and you don’t get to find out, either. Because before your eyes can search for Satoru’s mysterious figure, the door to the library is slamming open with a deafening bang!
“Ah! There you are!” your lady-in-waiting’s relieved voice floods your ears. And she’s barging in with no comment about your sudden stiffness, or that foreign coat around your shoulders. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you, your highness. His majesty is just about to make his speech of the night and needs you there.”
Shit, out of all the scandals. 
“I- I can explain.” You’re desperately trying to catch Satoru’s eye to make up an excuse for why you’re alone with a strange man away from the ball, shooting from your seat to look around the library. “We’re just-”
The suddenly empty library. 
“Yes yes, I understand that the balls aren’t exactly your favorite pastime.” The oblivious girl is pushing you towards the door, brown eyes narrowed. “But we’ve got to get going now.”
Despite her wrangling you outside, you manage to sneak a few glances backwards, straining to see if he was hiding in the shadows. Only to be met with a now-rumpled armchair and the still, dark bookshelves. As bare as if Satoru never existed - the only proof of his existence being a sad copy of Yaga’s 1001 Methods to Crochet lying on the ground. 
And yet, you can’t help but feel a pair of eyes on you. 
You feel it all through the short walk back to the ballroom, Nobara’s excited chatter about how finely your all-new coat was made filtering through one ear and out the next. Even when you reach the edge of the dance floor, even when you feel every single other eye in the room on you - you feel it. 
“Um, Nobara.” you whisper, discreetly shuffling the coat off your shoulders. “Please take this to my chambers for me.”
The younger girl is positively bursting at the seams, murmuring conspiratorially to you, “So is this where you were? With who- The “G” what does that-”
“Ah! My daughter!” Saved by your father’s booming voice - though, you wouldn’t consider it too much of a salvation when you’re immediately being whisked away to the high platform your father’s throne was seated on. His arms spread wide to greet you in a hug despite stiff etiquette. 
“You’re late.” he whispers in your ear.
It’s all you can do to manage out a quiet, “S-Sorry.”
Without another word, he’s addressing the congregation in the middle of the dance ballroom again. More ruler than father at this very moment. “My people, we are gathered here today to dance, to sing, to forget about the horrors happening in our beloved nation.” To large murmurs of agreement he continues, “And despite it all, it’s a reality we must all live with. Me, especially, as your king, have a duty to fulfill.”
There’s a beat of silence, and you wonder where this is all going - your father never brought up vampires during a time like this. Never. 
Clearing his throat, “And as we all know, I’m not getting any younger here, unfortunately. Which is why-” He claps his hands once, and three figures - one of which being Naoya, amongst two other nobles you briefly recognized - step forward from the crowd. “Ah- there should be one more- Anyway, after thorough consideration with the table of elders, we have decided to go forward with the betrothal process for my dear daughter here. With the joining of hands will not only be the joining of kingdoms - but the joining of arms, and our people shall prevail as one over the vampires.”
You think you might stop breathing, eyes burning and trained firmly on the ground. This had been a topic of conversation - well, more the elders conversing while you skipped out on every meeting once this discussion was brought up. 
You knew this would happen. You knew. But now? At this very moment? All you can do is stand there and listen while he rattles off. 
“I know four of the- erm, three of the most eligible young suitors of the land will do their utmost to vie for her heart - and her hand. No easy task I tell you.” Your fists clench, head swimming. “And in a week’s time, we will hold the grand ball to announce my successor.”
Shit - a week. A week.
Somewhere in your line of vision you see - you feel that spark of blue. And you’re raising your head to cheers echoing from all around the room, and still no sign of where those eyes are. 
“The next time we meet, will be with the future king and queen!”
Fuck. 
---
That night was spent with a few too many tears, and a consoling Nobara at your side all until daybreak. And if you held onto that comforting, peppermint-scented coat through it all, well, you were only glad that you seemed too pitiful for her to question it. 
Feeling much more composed and only slightly less bitter about the prospect of being married off to a stuck-up noble you didn’t know, you made your way to breakfast the next morning. An affair usually spent with your father, or in the palace gardens - but this time, surrounded by four suitors under the guise of getting to know you. Sizing each other up, maybe. 
“Ah, your highness, good morning!” you sweetly reciprocate the greetings once you’re escorted into the dining room, taking your seat at the very end of the long, mahogany table. 
Sighing you take in the scene - on your left was Lord Naoya from last night, the same sharp grins and shifty eyes as you remembered. Seated beside him was the young duke of the Kashimo clan - hair striking, his battle staff laid out next to him on the table. Intimidating. 
But nothing in comparison to the hulking man on your right, it seemed as if his uniform was on the verge of bursting. Face sullen, letting his pink locks fall into place - Sukuna, you think you remember. 
“Your highness.” Ichiji bows, taking his place supervising the breakfast. “I am afraid our guests from the Northern kingdom will not be able to attend this breakfast today. He sends his deepest apologies. B-but-” His face-paled, looking scarred for life. “-he did have his um- attendant send this note-”
You’re gratefully taking the creamy scrap of paper before the words have even left Ichiji’s mouth, flipping it over to reveal slanted, beautiful calligraphy - Apologies for the sudden departure last night, flower. And I hope you forgive my king for not being here to deter the talk of horses - duty holds both man and beast from freedom. Worry not, we will be seeing your sweet smile again soon. But, for now, give those three bastards a rude gesture from me.
You giggle, tucking away the note. A tiny pang of disappointment hitting you out of nowhere at the lack of that gold “G” emblem anywhere along the table - and more importantly, the white-haired enigma that would follow.
All three men were glowering, yet begrudgingly plowing on with their conversation from before as you settled. Not having the energy to contribute, you listened in. 
“-this would never have happened in my estate.”
“Oh buzz off-” Kashimo interrupts Naoya, before throwing a guilty look your way at his crass words. As if you didn’t say worse. “Apologies, your highness. As I was saying-” he turns back to the man. “Don’t think we haven’t heard of those vampire killings in your court that you tried to cover up, your defense isn’t as impenetrable as you want it to seem, Naoya.”
That causes you to raise your brow - and evidently, Sukuna’s as well. “That so? Little fraud, aren’t ya, Zenin?”
The shorter man sputters indignantly, “You- you little- you call me a fraud and yet you’re the only one who didn’t bother to help investigate last night? Got something to hide, oh king-of-curses?”
“Tch, shut up.” That little nickname ticked something off in Sukuna, and his grip on his delicate fork tightens. Smirk intentionally bared to piss off, “It’s just because when the princess marries me, she won’t have to worry about vampires attacking guards in the middle of a ball.”
Wait, what?
“Yeah right, you and what army because I have an absolutely enormous-”
“What do you mean?” Your smooth voice cuts through their bickering, and all three men freeze, gazes snapping to you as if they’d already forgotten you were there. “I didn’t hear about any killings last night.”
If you thought they were tense before then you weren’t prepared for right now - shoulders raising in surrender, for all their blabbering, not a word was uttered after your accusatory question. After a few beats of silence, you scoff in frustration, turning towards your escort, squirming and avoiding your pointed stare at the very corner of the room. 
“Ichiji.” The man looked like he could positively give anything to blend into the meticulously hand-painted flowers on the wall. “Ichiji, tell me what happened.” 
“P-princess!” he yelps, adjusting his glasses. “I- I’m afraid the king said- please I can’t-”
“Ichiji…”
“P-please don’t banish me-”
You’re on your feet now, cornering the poor man. Mentally, you make a note to give him a raise. Eyes narrowing, “I won’t banish you, but as the future queen I have a right to know, don’t I?”
“...”
“...please?”
And the remaining men had been watching with morbid fascination as you worked your magic. They were already aware that the frail attendant was the weakest link out of them all, but what they certainly did not expect was exactly how weak. 
It only took a single bat of your lashes before his pale cheeks colored an almost-concerning pink. Eyes scrunching shut in embarrassment, as the words spilled from his lips. Neverending and slurring with haste as he speaks in one breath, “Th-three of the guards stationed near the outer corridor and library wing were found killed by a vampire last night before you retired for the night, your highness. Their b-bodies were disposed of, and this in combination with all the recent killings was why the king hurried the announcement for your engagement. B-but, his majesty decreed that this never be relayed to you in order to keep you in high spirits after the betrothal eep-!”
“Is- is that so?” you breathe, eyes wide. Taking one last look at the four speechless men, before walking out of the tall doorway. “I seem to have lost my appetite, I will be heading for my chambers now. I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay, my lords.”
Shit shit shit - how did you not notice? 
Maybe you walked right past the killer last night and didn’t even realize - who knows what could’ve been hiding in the shadows. How did you not realize? How did you not see?
Just then, a thought strikes you - did Satoru see?
---
It’s one of the whirlwind of questions ringing around in your mind even by the time you hear a steady knock on your door. Jolting you upright from where you splayed out on your plush, silken bed, rows upon rows of books on vampires haphazardly surrounding you.
Peering out of your large window, you notice the hues of pink and red painting the sky, a big red sun just dipping below the horizon - shit, when did you even fall asleep? 
“Come in.” you answer, voice scratchy. Rubbing away the sleep in your eyes, you could barely make out the hazy outline of Ichiji standing in your doorway. 
“Ah- your highness, I apologize for waking you up.” he bows. “But master Kashimo will be headed out for a late-night hunt at this very moment, and requested your presence shall you wish it. He noticed that you seemed upset at breakfast, and wanted to make it up to you.”
You take a moment to mull over the question - it certainly was rude for you to just ignore your guests all day. And considering you might just be marrying one of them, it wouldn’t kill anyone to actually get to know them.
“Alright.” you reply, voice even. And your answer seems to surprise the other man, “Tell Tsukumo to get my gear ready, I will be down as soon as I change.”
“Y-yes, princess! I will call for Nobara to help you get dressed.”
As the door shut once more behind him, you threw off your heavy blanket- and your coat? Satoru’s coat, which had evidently been draped around your upper half. Heart stuttering, you didn’t remember putting that on before…
Hm, you had to thank Nobara for that later.
---
Hunting with Kashimo was, unexpectedly, dull. 
“So…” you drag your words, trying to fill the tense silence. “What is it that we’re actually hunting for-”
“Shhh-” you hear for about the third time this past hour. A brow of yours quirking at the way it seemed like the two of you had been wandering the woods belonging to your kingdom’s estate for hours, and you still didn’t know what it was you were supposed to be looking for. 
Alright, perhaps hunting wasn’t the best opportunity to get to know your potential future husband. 
“My lord…” you call out warily, already aware of the duke’s affinity for hunting. “Maybe we should rest for a bit, after all, the stars are out already and the moon is so bright.”
He barely even turns to look back at you, “No time. The woods belonging to your kingdom have some of the rarest species of cursed animals in this country. I must make the most of this week in that case, your highness.”
You brighten at the closest shred of conversation in so long. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard! I also hear they-”
“Shh!”
So close. 
Letting out a resigned sigh, your eyes glaze over as you watch Kashimo trace his thick fingers over animal tracks on the dirt. Suddenly, gesturing for you to follow him as he sped off in another direction. 
It doesn’t take too long for him to stray out of sight. Meanwhile, your legs lag behind in protest - and pettiness, you realize. Grumbling to yourself about how you’d rather have watched paint dry as you’re sure the elders often did. Well, you look at the now-barren pathway, at least now you didn’t have to worry about someone shushing you all the ti-
“AHH!”
And then, all of a sudden - it felt like you were the hunted. 
It’s like every bit of blood drains from your body at the blood-curdling scream. Grip tightening on your bow, you’re jolting at the direction it came from - where did Kashimo disappear off to again? 
Yet, for how much you knew your kingdom like the back of your hand, it’s so dark. The moon barely peeking through gloomy gray wisps of clouds that you don’t know where exactly you’re running to - just that something was tugging. Reeling you in. No destination in sight until you’re crashing face-first into- a wall?
“Hey, flower, where are ya running off to this late?”
Your hairs raise, something visceral in your body jolting. 
Satoru - blindfold and all.  
“Wh- Satoru thank God you’re here.” you gasp, looking nervously over his broad shoulders. “I heard a scream, and I’m worried about Kashimo because he went somewhere over there and-” You’re pointing aimlessly in his direction, before clasping a hand around Satoru’s defined bicep. Tugging, “You have to help me, that idiot even insisted on no guards because of disturbing the wildlife and I’m so worried and-”
Before you can react, big strong arms are enveloping you. And you’re suddenly hit with the smell of peppermint and Satoru - something so sickly sweet tinging the air, it makes you droop limply into his firm hold. Your skin burns when he breathes in, deep. 
“Shhh shhh, I know I know, princess.” he hums, pulling you deeper against his chest. Until you could feel every dip and curve of his pectorals. “You must’ve been scared, right?” At your hesitant nod, “You did good. You did perfect- in fact. Especially putting up with that pretentious bastard.”
The shocked laugh that drags from your throat has Satoru sighing contentedly, an almost-pained grunt leaving him as he pulls away ever-so-slightly. You felt much the same. 
“S’alright, I’m pretty sure it was some animal.” he soothes. He clasps your hands with his, running a damp thumb over your knuckles. “I saw him trudging about disturbing more wildlife over there.”
You breath catches in your chest at just how close Satoru was now, his breath mingling with yours. Pretty plump lips so close - too close. Yet you’re leaning in closer, like you’re drawn by a thread. “Are you sure? Maybe we should-” You gasp, eyes widening when you look down at where your hands were intertwined - red. Or, what you assumed to be red, a saturated, patchy stain on your hands where Satoru’s met yours. He stiffens when he follows your gaze, trying to pull away, but you only hold your grip harder. “Satoru, are you bleeding? Or is this-”
“Not mine.” his voice is hard - and for a second you have to wonder whether this is really the same Satoru. And you swear there’s a little tremor in his words as he explains, “You see, I went out on a little hunt myself, flower.”
Even if Satoru didn’t have his blindfold on, you’re sure his face would’ve been unreadable. That almost-familiar grin of his is strained. Too strained. Yet, his movements are unwavering as he tries to wipe away the blood. “Must’ve forgotten to wipe down, I apologize for sullying your hands, princess.”
“Let me-” you mutter, taking a hold of the coat around your shoulders to wipe away the blood. Uncaring for what you were dirtying at the moment. “I swear you need to take better care of yourself, Satoru. Seriously.” 
And you didn’t see them - but somehow you could just feel the amusement dancing in Satoru’s eyes. Raising your confused gaze up to meet his, “What?”
He only flashes you a knowing grin, “S’jus’, you’re wearing my coat, your highness.”
Your movements pause, mouth gaping open while you try to pathetically spout out an excuse. “I- I didn’t mean to get this coat dirty, oh my god. I didn’t think-”
“S’alright.” he inches in even closer. A smirk grazing those sinful lips of his, “I actually prefer it like that, you look like mine.” Taking a deep breath, “You smell like mine.” 
And before you can ask about his cryptic message, he’s placing a hand at the back of your waist. A very improper hand that would definitely make the elders gasp in scandal. “We should head back to the palace, it’s getting late. I will escort you, m’sure that born hunter of yours is already halfway back too.”
“Carry me.” you blurt out, your body aching to feel more of him. And before you can retract your words - probably sputter a few apologies, you’re being cradled by a smug Satoru. One hand under your knees, the other supporting you like you’re weightless. 
“Heh, a princess carry for a princess.”
“Oh, shut up.” you grumble with embarrassment when he walks forward slowly, your legs swaying in midair. “Want my soul for this as well?”
And you can feel Satoru’s muscles ripple, you can feel the way his breath hitches in his chest ever-so-slightly. Rumbling as he drawls, “More than you’d know.”
“S’that a discount, too? You still didn’t tell me what you charge others.” you quip, remembering the conversation from the night before. 
“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough, your highness.”
You’re quirking a brow, something hot churning at the pit of your stomach at that ragged tone to his words. “I’m onto you, y’know.” You stare up at his clenched jaw, highlighted in the dim moonlight. His long, pale neck, the crevices of his blindfold. For a moment, you wonder what it would be like if you could peek under. “Onto you and your absurdly high prices, Satoru.”
He breathes out a shuddering, overly-dramatic shudder. “Mhm, flower, I should be worried.” Before looking up at the sky - and you wondered just how well he could see through his blindfold. “The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”
That night, you dreamt of long-winded star-gazing and blue, blue eyes. 
---
“What do you mean Lord Kashimo has left for his kingdom?” you hiss, feeling a faint stab of offense. Seriously, were you that awful at hunting? “He didn’t make any indication of it last night.”
And if your careless words made Nobara beam with slight embarrassment, you didn’t take note of it - too caught up in what you’d just heard. Enough so that it takes her next words to bring you out of your stupor, “Exactly what I said, your highness. The lordship and his court have all vacated their wing, leaving behind only a letter of forgiveness for ending the festivities early.”
“Still.” you murmur petulantly. Setting aside another one of your books on Vampire: Mates, Murder, and More. “It’s strange, I thought he was here for the hunting sprees, if not for me.” Your tiara weighs heavy on your head as you turn to your young lady-in-waiting. “I would like for Ichiji to catch up to Kashimo’s traveling party, make sure they’re safe, and send them my well wishes.”
Ha! Take that elders - you’d show them you’re fully capable of holding diplomatic relations as a ruler. 
“As you wish, princess. Additionally, this-” She’s holding out a small pouch of blue fabric that you’d never seen before. “-was found by your bedside when cleaning and I wished to give it back safely.” Before her polite smile drops into a much more devious smirk, “A gift from one of the suitors, perhaps~?”
You gesture for her to hand it over, the silk casing soft under your touch. Detailed. One-of-a-kind, from what your tedious lessons in the history of fabrics had taught you. You didn’t recognize the patterns sewn onto it as something typical for your kingdom - or any other you’d learned about, really.
“M’not sure.” you whisper. Opening the little purse to reveal a flash of gold - a necklace. Thin and intricate, holding a sapphire pendant in the shape of an eye. 
Blue.
A blue you knew too well - the same one that peeked out from every dark corner, that you saw before you slept at night. The one that’s been by your side for years.
Constant. Now coming to haunt you. 
Chills run down your spine, and your fingers tremble at how life-like it looked. Burning into your very soul. 
“Would you like for me to help you put it on?” Nobara asks, mistaking your shock for difficulty. And yet, you don’t correct her - body moving before your mind to simply nod. 
There was only one clasp on the chain - leaving you to worry about the fit. But when it was hooked around your neck, you found that it fit you so perfectly. Like it was tailored to you - and only you. Why was it so perfect?
Why did it capture the exact color you’d been chasing after your whole life - since before you’d even formed memories? Since you were nothing but a surly, teary-eyed little girl that was crying about the dark, babbling about that “blue flash” that no one else ever seemed to see.
“If that will be all, your highness. I will take my leave.” With a nod and a low bow, you’re left all by yourself in your sprawling chambers. Wondering, somewhat in amusement, whether you’d be let off this marriage pact if all the other suitors suddenly left as well. Hell, maybe you could marry whoever got you this necklace since they apparently know you so well. 
And you swear - maybe it was the fatigue from trekking last night, maybe it was the stress from the past month - but you swear the wind picks up in its chilly bite. Howling just low enough that it sounds like a deep, taunting cackle. 
The necklace doesn’t leave its palace around your neck for the next few days. You still didn’t know who’d gifted it to you - right inside your chambers for god’s sake - and if either of the two suitors remaining knew, they didn’t make any indication of it either. 
Three, technically, but it seemed that the more the days passed, the less you saw of the mysterious king of the Northern kingdom. 
While Sukuna and Naoya had taken it upon themselves to woo you by joining you in your daily activities, he hadn’t even shown his face to you yet. You were sure your father would’ve had him humiliated and thrown out of the palace already if he wasn’t afraid for his life. 
But you didn’t mind, because you saw enough of Satoru to make up for King Gojo and Kashimo. The man seemed well and fully intent to stick by your side, talking yourselves well into the night. 
It was on a night like this - sprawled out along the plush armchairs in the very library you’d met, only a few days after Kashimo’s departure - you asked, “Satoru, what color are your eyes?”
That makes him pause in the middle of his extremely animated story about how he’d caught Earl Yaga in the middle of an artistic dance routine. The baritone of his voice cracking so uncharacteristically as he responds with, “Wh-why do you ask, princess?”
“Because.” you roll your eyes. “In four days m’gonna be marrying, and it might just be your king. Yet, I don’t even know his attendant’s eye color - what type of good queen would I be then?”
You knew it was a flimsy excuse, truthfully you just wanted to see Satoru. All of Satoru.
“Not many have wanted to look into my eyes” 
You tilt your head, “How come?”
“Well, I can assure you that they aren’t half as alluring as yours.” Satoru pushes back your tiara ever-so-slightly to reveal your face to him better, fingers dancing down to fiddle with your pendant. “You’re a strange one, aren’t ya, flower?” he chuckles, face inching closer to yours - and for a moment, you think he might do something else. “Tell me, how are the wedding preparations going?”
Ah, right - the wedding preparations. Your wedding preparations, to someone else. 
Did you want him to do something else?
“W-well-” you pull back from his hypnotic presence. Heart lurching, necklace burning cold into your skin. “Sukuna keeps trying to teach me his very particular diet, I swear I’ve spent much more time with Uraume learning it than with him- they’re a sweetheart though, I can’t complain.” Eyes trying to avoid the intensity of his gaze, “Oh- and Naoya still talks about his weaponry, however, I think his Zenin elders had a word with him because he asked to meet me in the gardens tomorrow evening to actually get to know me for once.”
You brave to take a look at Satoru at the end of his spiel - only to be met with a face you never thought you’d see. His mouth a tight gash, jaw ticking, and you could almost hear the grinding of his teeth.
Terrifying. Magnetic. 
Powerful. 
The library was always cold - but you fail to suppress a shiver at the sudden grip in the air. “S-Satoru?”
And suddenly, at the mere sound of your voice, everything clicks back to normalcy. You’re staring that familiar grin painted onto his face again, musing slyly, “How much d’you wanna bet he’ll ask about your weaponry instead?”
“Oh, shut up.”
It’s only much, much later at night when you’re forced to retire early - Satoru slipping past the library earlier than usual with groans of his “attendant duties” that you realize - he didn’t answer your question. 
---
“P-princess, will you be alright going alone? I don’t think-”
“It’ll be alright, Ichiji, I’m just meeting Lord Naoya.” you wave off the stammering man. Tugging your velvety coat snugly around your body, “Honestly, you act like I haven’t been out in the gardens alone before.”
And it was true, since returning from his little meeting with the Kashimo court, your jumpy attendant seemed even more so - and you didn’t even know that was even impossible. Always peeking cautiously behind corners of the winding hallways, always hovering close by you even when his duty didn’t require it. 
He’d told you - in that quiet, shaky voice of his - that Kashimo was well, and headed straight for his kingdom to fulfill emergency duties. To which you’d accepted - you understood the gravity of responsibility, after all. 
“But- but, your highness!” he gasps, pulling you out of your little reverie. “I don’t think- with the way he-”
A spine-chilling breeze rustles the nearby tree, sending shivers down your spine. Howling in your ears. You squint your eyes against the cold, “Sorry, what was that, Ichiji?”
But the man in front doesn’t speak - fuck, you didn’t even know if he was breathing. Face a sickly pallor, mouth gaping open and shut like he wanted to say something - he needed to say something. Yet, he wasn’t even looking at you, wide eyes locked on something over your shoulder. 
“Are you-” Your body holds you back, feeling two burning eyes on you - and you have to force yourself to look over your shoulder. Only to see- nothing? “-are you alright?”
Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, you’re turning back to face your attendant - only to see him sprinting back down the entrance as fast as his knobbly legs could carry him. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then!” you call, hoping it echoed far enough to be heard.
Strange. 
It’s all you can think about for the next half an hour you’re seated on that dainty, painted bench in the middle of the palace gardens, waiting for your potential future husband. And for the next hour. And the next. 
It’s by the time the sun has fully set, when twinkling stars are dotting the night sky that you settle with the conclusion that yes, it seems that Naoya has already made his decision about the marriage. And no it doesn’t end with a wedding. 
“Dammit.” you spit, running a hand through the hair you had Nobara fuss about with. “S’not like I wanted to marry you anyway, bastard.”
And you didn’t - you really didn’t. Whenever you dared to imagine walking down that decorated aisle, Naoya was the last person you saw.
But seated alone and abandoned, trying to cover yourself from the biting chill of the night, you never felt more like an unworthy heir. Fuck, if no one wanted to marry you how would you even dare to think of taking over the throne?
Maybe you should just-
“We have got to stop meeting like this, flower. S’like you’re haunting me.”
“Satoru!” you gasp, throwing yourself into his embrace. You’re reaching up to loop two arms around his neck, “Oh, you wouldn’t believe it. That asshole had the audacity to stand me up.” Pulling back so your face ghosts his, “I got all dolled up just for him to leave me like this. As if I wanted to be with him, I was just trying to be a good- a good h-host and-” 
Suddenly, you’re struck with the realization of how close you two actually are. You could count every crease on his blindfold, pinpoint exactly where every dimple at the corner of his grin was. 
Your hands slide their way down to his sculpted chest, pushing slightly. “-I apologize, this was forward of me.”
But his arms only tighten around your waist - when did they even get there? Large and steady, pulling you back to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, your racing pulse. “Stay.” he groans, and he sounds slightly out-of-breath, heavy exhales tickling your ear.
“We can’t be caught like this, Satoru.” you breathe, but that familiar little tug has you shuffling closer. Breathing in that familiar metallic sweet scent you’ve grown to love, “I- I’m getting-” Bile creeps up at the back of your throat, and you laugh bitterly. “I think I’m getting married in three days, y’know? To Lord Sukuna, I assume, since two of my suitors ah- ran away and the other refuses to even see my face.”
His thick fingers dig deeper into the extravagant corset at your waist, “I know. Fuck- don’t I know.”
It’s a steady beat of silence, so still. So tense you could hear every stuttering heartbeat of yours, and strangely enough, you had the nagging feeling that he could, too. 
“You could just marry me.” Satoru’s abrupt confession breaks the silence, and you find yourself sinking deeper into his soft coat. Wrapping yourself up in his heady presence. “Be my queen. You wouldn’t have to worry about duties or elders or- or vampires.”
And the night was still. So still. 
Despite the way your heart races, eyes blinking up in disbelief, you find it in yourself to deadpan, “F-funny. Do I have to give you my soul for that as well?” Oh, some stupid little part of you think you might just have.
And you’d expected Satoru to crack a laugh, to give you a teasing smile while he carried on that little inside joke between the two of you. You’d expected him to no sooner shove you off and talk about it being late. Hell, a part of you even expected this to be some elaborate set-up from the elders to get you caught in such a compromising position with the no-longer stranger from the Northern kingdom. 
But, no. It’s anything but that - everything but that. 
Because the taller man only rasps, nose-to-nose now, “No.” Sounding like his sanity was slipping away from him with every breath, fingers making their dance down to twirl your sapphire pendant between them. “I’d give you mine.”
You can feel his breath fanning your cheeks, head dipping slowly - so torturously slowly. As if he was giving you ample opportunity to run away if you wanted to. But you don’t think you could move for the life of you. 
Instead, you’re dipping closer, gliding the tip of your thumb over his defined cheekbone. Mere millimeters away - just one push. Another hand of yours steadies at the back of his neck, feeling those snowing locks under your fingers. 
One. 
Your thumb dips just under the seam of his blindfold - unwillingly. 
“Your highness.” Satoru’s voice is cold, his fingers lacing with your own even colder. Something eerie. And even with the delicate touch you could feel the power thrumming through Satoru’s body. “This is for you.”
You can only stand there in shocked silence as the moment shatters, and he produces a wild rose as if out of thin air. “Consider it from King Gojo.” Touch searing against yours when he hands it to you, you feel drunk off of him “Perhaps the night is late now.”
Right. The king. 
When you’re walking back in the directions of the palace’s warm lights, you don’t think you’ve ever felt safer. Strangely enough. 
“Satoru.”
“Yes?”
“I’m onto you.”
“You’re onto me.” he’s tucking the bloom over your ear. Before stepping back into the inky pool of shadows beside the entrance you came from. “Sweet dreams, flower.”
That night, when you tuck yourself into bed, you swear you hear a faint whisper of those same three words lulling you to sleep. Over and over. 
Sweet.
Dreams.
Flower. 
---
Floral preservation was one of the lessons you’d been forced to attend growing up in the palace, but even you didn’t know how that wild rose Satoru gifted you hadn’t wilted yet. 
It remained as fresh and prim as the night it was picked, bluish pink petals never fading. You didn’t keep it safely in a bowl of water amongst the other plants and flowers in your bedroom. Somehow, never out of place, always tucked safely behind your ear in the days that followed. Perhaps it was improper to keep it on you even when you were being fitted into an engagement gown to be promised off to another man. But Satoru didn’t complain, and you didn’t either. 
With Kashimo departing for his kingdom early, and Naoya apparently following in his footsteps due to “irrevocable differences”, it was now almost confirmed that the future king was to be Lord Sukuna. Not like King Gojo had made any effort to reach out - and Satoru hadn’t mentioned it either. 
Satoru. 
Things were…the same after that night, and you didn’t know what to make of it.
It must be done, you sigh, wincing at the pinch of the flowing white dress being suited onto you by the bustling tailor. At least it could be worse, even if you’d rather…
“Honestly, young people these days.” Yaga speaks up from where he was fussing with the silken hem of your gown for tomorrow. “I heard of that Naoya brat leaving out of nowhere, princess. My condolences.” 
“Ah-” you startle, not expecting to be addressed. “It’s not your fault, we likely didn’t mesh all that well. I just wish he left a note- Honestly, I’m lucky to even have a suitor left after these six days.”
Another grimace leaves you when you feel another tweak of pins pricking at your skin. The other man hums lowly, “Don’t say that, anyone would be lucky to have you. Anyway-” He gets up from his position kneeling, towering over you to admire his own work. “How do you like it, your highness?”
You let out a gasp when you face the floor-length mirror, “Oh my god, it’s perfect.” The dress was regal, decadent. With flowing tresses resembling a petals, and gilded gold and blue weaved into the fabric. 
Blue. 
“I fashioned it after that necklace and flower of yours.” You unwittingly reach for that familiar pendant, “I ah- forgive the assumption, but I assumed you would be wearing them both at the betrothal ceremony tomorrow, princess?”
Taking another long look in the mirror, you nod, “Yeah. I will.”
---
“I knew it.” he laughs shrilly. “I fuckin’ knew there was something wrong with you. As soon as I saw you butterin’ the princess up in the library, I knew you were a fuckin’ freak.”
The other man only responds with ominous silence, letting labored breathing cut through the bone-chilling air. Clearly unsatisfied, “What? Not gonna talk now? Aren’t ya just in it for the crown like me? Have the bitch, just give me the crown.” Goading now, “I bet you’re not even an attendant are ya- I know what you are-”
His words are cut off with another choked-up gasp, followed shortly by a strained growl. “I know- what you are-”
Red stains the marble floor - a problem for later. 
“I know, King Gojo.” And it’s the last thing he sees. “And you’ll reap what you sow, she’ll never love you.”
Blue. 
“You’ve haunted me too long, flower.”
“Satoru–!” you scream, throwing your soft bed sheets off your body. 
It was burning - you were burning, gasping for the cold lungfuls of air that filled your empty bedroom. Mind bleary, distantly, you register that it’s around daybreak - tiny fingers of golden sunlight just barely dipping through your window - your open window. 
Hastily, you’re tumbling out of bed to slam it shut. Heart still pounding when you take in the mess of flower petals from those congratulatory bouquets you’d gotten. Ruined. Only the stems left in the vases after that sudden, chilling wind. 
“What-” Your eyes dart around to look over your dresser, where you always kept Satoru’s wild rose. And a shiver creeps down your spine when you realize it lay snug tucked behind your ear, safe and sound. Exactly where you didn’t keep it. “-happened?”
You couldn’t settle back into bed after that - couldn’t even think about it. So you find yourself reaching for your wardrobe of dresses, running your fingers along the intricate gown made for your engagement ball tonight. Your engagement to Sukuna. 
If this was the nightmare, and tonight was to be the dream - why did your stomach turn so?
---
It was difficult convincing Nobara to let you keep the wild rose on after getting ready. 
“But that’s so last season.” she bemoans. “No offense, your highness, but even old lady Ogami wouldn’t be caught dead wearing flowers in her hair these days.”
You’re giving her your best puppy dog eyes, “Please, Nobara?”
“No.”
“I’ll let you raid my exclusive wardrobe the next time you want to play dress-up?”
“...”
Which was how you found yourself shoved into a dress that was way too gorgeously palatial, barely even having the time to admire the lush gold and blue decorations around the sparkling ballroom before you were being ushered next to your father on his throne. 
You fiddle with your ringed fingers, feeling more and more like a lamb sent to slaughter - a very opulent slaughter - with each step. 
“I am so proud of you for this week, and you look absolutely divine, my love.” your father whispers into your ear once you’re up on the crushed velvet platform. “I hear from Ichiji that you know, I apologize we couldn’t go through with this marriage under better circumstances.”
You shake your head, giving him a calm smile - you’d already forgiven him, sometimes there was duty far greater than any man. 
“My people, as promised, we are gathered once more to celebrate the joining of two hands - and two kingdoms.” The king projects his voice out to the eager crowd, “Together, these two young loves will face their duty. They will face the dangers. They will face our future.”
The thought had you clenching your fist into the soft fabric of your gown, looking down at your feet in a bow. 
“As I did with my father before me - God rest his soul - the future king and queen will oversee their responsibilities to protect our people from those treacherous vampires. The elders-” he stops short, eyes widening at the empty seats on the balcony - where the table of elders always sat. Abandoned. Chilling. “...have decreed, in accordance with our princess, to introduce my daughter to you all as our future queen-”
Your father gestures a hand your way, and you step forwards to cheers, still not daring to look up. And all you could see were two, gold-toed boots stepping into your field of vision.
“-and our future king!”
“Look up, flower, this is the best part.”
Gasping, you raise your head - Satoru.
“Y-you?” 
He smiles that pearly smile at you, one that makes your knees weaken, “Me.” Before leaning down conspiratorially,  “Better get moving now, the king just declared that the big bad Northern king and the precious princess will have their first dance as a couple.”
It felt like you were moving through a dream as you slip your hand into his, flinching at the feeling of his cold lips meeting the back of your hand.
The crowd of whispering nobles part to make a path for the two of you, and Satoru is so gentle when he leads you into the middle of the dance floor. Weightless on his feet, swiftly placing a burning hand on your waist - just below where the elders would consider proper. 
The other intertwining with yours, you barely even register the slow, romantic tune playing from the orchestra. 
“I bet you have questions.” he whispers, breath fanning your cheeks. 
You take in his tall figure, the rows of medals, gleaming only half as bright as the smile that makes its way onto your face. Hissing, “That doesn’t cover the half of it, King Gojo.”
“I-I apologize. I can’t apologize enough but-”
“Though, I did have a nagging feeling about the fifth time you talked yourself up.” you smirk.
Satoru throws his head back in a loud cackle, echoing through the hushed crowds - no doubt gossiping about this being the Northern king, that fearful beast that ruled over the Gojo family. “I know.” His hand comes up momentarily to brush over your sapphire necklace, “And I’ll spend our entire lives making it up to you, flower.”
Goosebumps dance down your arm, your spine, right down to where Satoru held a firm grip on your hip. You two waltz around the edge of the dance floor, perfectly in time. Through the crowd of grumbling lords, the orchestra, past the table of foods.
“And exactly how long would the rest of our lives be, Satoru?”
Slowing right in front of that huge, reflective wall. 
You couldn’t see his eyes, but his biting gaze was all you could feel. 
Lingering on the blue pendant nestled at your chest, the everlasting wild rose tucked behind your ear, the mirror to your right - where the twin image of you shone. Powerful, gorgeous, everything that a monster like him could never have because he wasn’t standing there right next to you. His kind never could. 
In the back of your mind, you registered collective gasps sounding all around you - the rest of the ball attendees that’d also taken note of the lack of Satoru’s reflection. But your eyes stay locked on him. 
A thumb hooks under his blindfold, and he grimaces. “You really were onto me, huh, flower?”
Tugging. 
Your fingers tighten around his, unable to let the most fearsome of creatures escape from your grasp. “You must’ve been onto me, too, Satoru.”
Pulling. 
All you see is a flash of a regal nose bridge, and the flutter of thick white lashes - before every single chandelier in the ballroom snuffs out at once. Cloaking the room in unnatural darkness, it sends every single knight and noble into a frenzy. 
And then, he opens his eyes. 
“IT’S HIM-”
“A body! A BODY FOUND IN THE ROYAL GUEST SUITE–
“VAMPIRE! STAY BACK-“
Oh, it’s blue. 
That crystal blue. 
And then it’s black.
---
SLAM!
“If you must kill me.” Satoru’s voice sounds from somewhere above you. You blink away the darkness, feeling your bleary gaze try and adjust to that unfamiliar high ceiling, the outlines of hauntingly beautiful paintings on it. His ragged breaths cut through your thoughts once more, hastily folding your hand to grip your pendant. “If you must kill me, then I prefer you do it with your own hands, princess.”
You can’t tell whose hand is trembling more - yours or his. Distantly, you realize you’re being pushed up against a luxuriously padded wall, one you’d never seen before in your life. 
Where were you?
“The Gojo palace- Please-” he reads your mind, voice breaking at the end of his plea. Gasping - and you can discern two elongated teeth at his canines. Fangs, you realize with a shiver. “You may leave if you want to, you may kill me for what I’ve done. My life is in your hands.”
“Satoru.” you soothe in a hushed voice, despite the way your head was reeling. The Gojo palace? “I won’t kill you.”
“But-”
“Satoru, what does this necklace mean?” You beg, and at this point, you’re not surprised that the necklace is from him - because it was an exact replica of the two burning eyes staring back at you. The only source of light right now, glowing a blue you’d finally found after a lifetime. “Why did you-” you gulp, heart lurching. “Why did you hand me your…life?”
Soft lips play right over your rapid pulse, murmuring into your skin, “S’my soul.” A long, pale index of his plays with the pendant. “The only part of my soul that’s living, gilded into a necklace to be kept in the safest place I know. You.”
“But-” you cry out, trying to get another look at his eyes - but your fiancé only kisses deeper at your neck. Nibbling at the thundering beat just below. “But why did you give it to me?”
“Who else would I give it to, if not for my mate?”
Mates - there were a thousand and one books and official documents detailing everything from a vampire’s killing pattern to the aphrodisiac toxins found in their blood. But the research on a vampire’s mate was far and few between.
Perhaps owing to the lack of willing mates that can come out without persecution, or perhaps due to the vampires’ intense rumored mating rituals. But it didn’t go without its own gossip, you were no stranger to the ladies of the court tittering about how morbidly “romantic” it was that mates were akin to soulmates - how it was an invisible string connecting two people to share a life, a soul. 
A vampire’s one and only mate.
Satoru was pinning you harder to the wall now, his pink tongue darting out to lick over your pulse. The fingers holding onto the necklace were now tilting your chin up at him, “Speak to me, flower.”
“I’m your mate?” you whimper, your lips ghosting over his. Already knowing the answer, but fuck you needed to hear it from him. “What does that mean exactly?”
He lets out a pained grunt, pressing his forehead gently against yours. “It means you’re the other half of my soul. My only one, I was born for you.” Pressing a chaste peck on there - and you swear you could feel the nip of two sharp canines against your skin. “The one I’ll fight heaven and hell for, until the very last beat of my cold, dead heart.” Your fingers curl at his shoulders when his mouth moves to the shell of your ear. “The one I’ll kill for, take out every measly scum that thinks they can get with my mate.”
He huffs out a burst of cold laughter when your breath hitches, probably reading over the thoughts running through your mind - Satoru killed them. The guards, Kashimo, Naoya- fuck, maybe even Sukuna. He killed them. He killed them. He killed them. He killed them. 
You shiver, “A-and all the wind? The whispers? I thought it was just you these past week b-but- All my life, that was you?”
You know. You knew. 
Another kiss - this time to the corner of your eye, and Satoru licks a long, content stripe up the big fat tears unwillingly welling up behind your eyes. He groans at the salty taste of you, taking in a long, drawn-out breath. “Yes.”
All it takes is that single word for your entire body to collapse, thankfully onto an awaiting Satoru. He holds your entire body weight with one hand around your waist, the other coming up to swipe his thumb under those tears rolling down your cheeks now. 
He kisses your cheek, “All your life.” The corner of your lips, “And all of mine.” 
Run away run away run away run away-
But you can’t - you don’t want to.
Your lips wobble when he nuzzles down your face, leaving a trail of hot kisses with his cold, cold mouth. “As soon as I learned to use my powers - was just a brat you see - I just had to see my mate. To smell her scent.” He’s inhaling deeply again, hands groping over your engagement gown. “Lo and behold, there was you. A cute lil’ princess around my age, tuckered out and fast asleep.” Lingering at your jaw, the hand tight around your waist pulls you painfully closer. Satoru’s knee wedging itself between your trembling thighs, “Imagine my surprise when she took one look at me and cried. Scared me enough to teleport outta there as soon as you opened that smart mouth, flower.”
And the thought of Satoru - tiny and determined - teleporting halfway across the land only to be yelled at by you has you huffing out a shock of laughter.
“So when I heard through the grapevine about your potential engagement, fuck- I couldn’t have ran out of this palace faster. Was so excited I fuckin’ forgot to teleport, too. Even if you were afraid of the ‘cruel Northern king.’” 
Fuck - that’s right. He must’ve heard your thoughts that time you met him in the library. 
Satoru’s tone drops to a low simper, so close now that you could feel every slight curve of his grin. Every twitch of his fingers sweeping up and down your exposed skin, feeling the delicious thrum of your veins. He could bite you right now - easily.  “And luckily, as I grew up, so did my ability to blend in with the darkness.” Eyes boring into yours, something so vulnerable in them now. “But you found me, you always did.”
“Satoru.” you angle your head upwards. “Kiss me.”
And how could he ever deny you?
You wince at the slight pinch of Satoru’s teeth - his fangs - as he crashes his lips into yours in a greedy kiss. Sliding his tongue over to taste those candied lips he’s been dreaming of for years. 
“Fuck-” he breathes out through his nose, jaw sagging open further to kiss you deeper. “Fuck, princess.”
Strong arms pin you harder against the wall, and you’re blindly reaching out to reciprocate even a fraction of Satoru’s neediness. Just dragging your hips up and down his muscled thighs. Sinful. 
Shit, it was so endearing to him seeing you struggle to touch him this way. And with a flick of a wrist, the candle chandeliers hung high above your heads are lighting up at once. “S’that better, flower?”
It takes every bit of will in you to manage to pull away, yet the thought of seeing Satoru - of really seeing Satoru is what spurs you to break the kiss. Delicate strings of saturated spit snapping in the non-existent air between you two, you take a long look at your new husband.
Fuck, he was so pretty.
You always knew he was. 
But even with his face tilted downwards, within the soft light tinting those snowy strands a sunset yellow - you could make out the pretty pink flush all the way from his glossy, ravaged lips, up, up, up to his delicate cheeks - he looked like the last thing from a monster. 
“No you’re pretty.” he hums, and you’re still not used to him reading your mind. Head nodding downwards, “Just look, grinding on my thigh like such a slut.”
What met you was a dark pool of slick saturating his trousers,  just peeking out over the hem of your dress. It makes you give another lingering, experimental grind.
“Satoru—” you’re letting out a honeyed drag of his name, reveling in the way it makes him swallow heavily. “You can hear my thoughts, right?” Look at me. 
Slowly - but surely - familiar blue meets yours. Half-lidded, pupils blown, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have said there were tiny sparks of lightning at the corners of his long white lashes.
You’ve been haunting me my whole life, Toru.
And it was an accident - it really was, your freshly kissed brain too hazy to slur out Satoru’s full name. But the impromptu little nickname has him dragging forwards like he was magnetized. 
A low growl escaping when he’s kissing you again. And again. And again and again and-
“Say it-” Two hands are tugging at those tedious ribbons tying your decadent gown together. Pulling. “Say it again f’me.” Ripping. 
The more his lips are assaulting yours, the more the dress slips further and further down your shoulders. Tattered. The soft satin leaving goosebumps down your spine as it reveals your neckline - all that skin for him to ruin. To mark. 
“Oh-” you’re squealing when one of Satoru’s fangs prick a bit too hard at your lip. Feeling a hot flow of crimson bleed out, the feeling has you so weak. So drunk. “Quite eager, aren’t ya?”
“You have no idea.” he groans again. Soft tongue moving from swirling around your own to lazily pool your blood on it. And you can’t imagine what about the metallic taste would be so euphoric, but he’s letting out his loudest drag of your name yet. Eyes rolling to the back of his head like he’s just tasted a personal slice of heaven. “Fuck- fuck you have no idea.”
You moan into the kiss when he bites down again on your already-bruised lower lip, “I’ve always wanted to do this-” Slow, slow hands kneading up your waist, at a dizzying tempo matching his mouth down your jaw, your neck. Hips bucking, you feel the outline of something so hard between his legs. “-to kiss you. To-” Tethering on the sensitive area of your pulse, “-bite.”
In a split-second, you’re sinking down into plush silk sheets, swallowing you whole in a king-sized bed you didn’t even realize was in the room before. 
“S-Satoru, did you teleport us again?” you gasp, eyes adjusting to the intricate paintings on the ceiling that you hadn’t gotten to admire before. Of white-haired youths and roses, of cold, dark palaces and- and you. 
You - when you were younger, sleeping peacefully while a little boy watches intrigued from the corner. You - passed out in the library after a long night of reading, two pale hands wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. You - your brows furrowed, head cocked while you pushed past nobles to search for that flash of his blue. You, you, you.
You. 
“I can hear the gears in that pretty head turning.” Satoru grins, still kissing you in a languid graze of lips. “And as much as I love it when you hah- admire my lonely paintings, I’d rather you pay attention to-” A low groan curdles at the back of his throat when he’s grinding his massive clothed erection against the syrupy spot at your core. “-me.”
There’s a dark little huff of laughter and with one last bite at the side of your neck, Satoru’s unapologetically tearing right through the middle of your gown. 
And you know it’s made with the finest fabrics the country has to offer, you know that no normal man should be able to even rip a tiny shred through your dress - but Satoru is no ordinary man.
Your spike of disappointment is quickly overshadowed by cold breath hovering over your exposed tits. “Oh, so perfect f’me.” he’s groaning, deep and primal. Biting down on your hardened nipple, “Ya think those uptight elders your court has- ah, had would appreciate me desecrating their precious princess before marriage?”
Through gasps, you peek down at his wicked tongue, swirling around the sensitive spots of your areola. “Who- who gives a shit.”
“So feisty.” The peaks of your tits are left coated in him as Satoru pulls away. “So addictive.” Pinching your soft flesh between his teeth - just hard enough that you worry he’s out to draw blood again. “So- so-” 
Words are failing Satoru’s sharp mouth as he kisses his way down your body. The valley of your chest, your stomach, your hips.
Down, down, down-
“Fuck, Satoru-” you’re hissing when he easily pulls the pathetic remains of your dress off and onto the floor. The rest of your inner skirts easily following afterwards. “Are you gonna…”
“M’afraid not.” he licks sloppy circles at the skin of your thighs. Tasting, nipping, leaving little marks with his fangs for later. Sloppily soothing his tongue over the tiny droplets of blood beading from the bites, he murmurs stubbornly, “Not until you address me correctly.”
Hesitantly, you reach out a limp hand to thread through his dampening white tresses. Tugging softly to lock those devouring blue eyes with yours, “Please, Toru?”
You get absolutely no warning when he kisses right through that flimsy excuse of your drenched panties to slide his tongue up and down your sopping wet slit. Up and down up and down up and-
“Sh-shit, Toru-” you moan when he’s just dipping the very tip barely past your puffy folds. The fabric of your underwear still sticking to you, “Stop being such a tease, goddammit ngh-”
“Why?” Of course, he toys with your patience even now, addicted to those needy whines falling from your lips. “I jus’ wanna play with my princess’s pretty pussy. What am I getting out of it?” 
You smirk, not even having to move your pretty mouth to know you had him in the palm of your hand already. I’d be your mate for life. 
It’s all you can do to watch with satisfaction as the great Gojo Satoru gasps - gasps. Slick-glossed lips falling into a soft oh! Hazy eyes widening almost-comically, and at full heady attention while he takes a few seconds to mull over your words. 
RIP!
In an instant, your soaked underwear is ripped clean off to bare your dripping cunt for him, wrapped tightly around Satoru’s fingers and disappearing down below to where your imagination couldn’t handle. 
“Oh, such a pretty pussy.” he coos, thumbing apart your puffy folds to admire your lewdly winking cunt. Glistening and so so needy, you jolt when he bullies two long fingers past your sloppy entrance. With your greedy hole swallowing every slender inch of Satoru’s fingers easily, “So needy too. This all f’me?”
As if to prove his point, his pink lips wrap around your throbbing clit, grinding his tongue over the ravaged tip. The harsh texture of his tastebuds rolling over every inch of you he could reach.
“Y-yes-” you squeal, hips bucking down mindlessly to try and match his relentless tempo. “S’only for you.”
“Tha’s what I love to hear-” Satoru’s cheeks hollow when he sucks on your sensitive little nub - hard. “Sweeter than I even imagined, shit-”
Every pump of his merciless fingers in and out of your cunt drags along your gummy walls. Deftly curling to prey at those hidden sweet spots of yours he just knew would wrench out such throaty moans from you - and fuck, Satoru thinks- no, he knows that the sound is is favorite song. 
“You’re makin’ me- hah making me fall in love all over again.” he gruffs out into your cunt. The pads of his fingers pressing into the cushiony ends of your pussy. “Because look how messy you are- how loud.”
You didn’t know if he had mind-control powers on top of mind-reading, because it’s as if you’re on auto-pilot when your lolling head is whirling down to look at the absolute sin made of you below. Satoru - running his mouth a mile a minute to send white-hot vibrations along your clit. His milky fingers buried knuckle-deep to stretch out your poor cunt. Your sweet sweet juices drooling all over them in such an obscene sheen down his palm, his wrist. 
He whines, “Makin’ me wanna-” You jolt when he’s biting down so dangerously around your clit. “Wanna-”
Satoru doesn’t end up finishing his sentence - and he doesn’t have to. 
Because he’s pausing his make-out with your clit to spit once. Twice. A thick thumb swiping at the intentional splatter of saliva marking your skin, before surging forwards even deeper - you didn’t even think that was possible. But Satoru has the tip of his nose rubbing methodical circles against your clit, jaw grinding at the base of your pussy, tongue flattening out your pussy lips.
Messy. Harsh. 
“Oh- oh my god, Toru-” you’re keening at the feeling of his wet muscle trying to squeeze in past the fingers still continuing their assault on your entrance. “It- it won’t fit–”
“Shhh shhh, s’okay, princess.” he hushes, letting another round glob of spit wet your clingy pussy. “You can take it. You will - otherwise how are you gonna take your husband, hm?”
That little comment has connotations that make your plushy walls clamp down vice-like around his fingers - his tongue. And you’re angling your head just right, blinking away the lustful haze in your eyes to spy down at the rapid, jerky movements of his other hand. Devouring gaze dropping down to-
Oh. 
Oh fuck.
It was difficult to even look at the sight below - your panties, soaked and completely see-through with slick and precum, wrapped prettily around what you could make out to be Satoru’s aching cock. Standing proud, twitching wildly with every drag of his fist up and down his glistening length. 
“Fuck-” he groans, taking the opportunity to devilishly slip his tongue past your feeble entrance. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck- y’like this, huh?” Drawled out little praises now muffled as he fucks you on his tongue the way he wished he could with his cock. In and out in and out in and out. Pulling back to eye your gaping hole, “I can feel y’getting wetter for me is it because-” Before surging back forwards, as if he’s addicted. “Because-” Again.“Fuck don’t clench around me that way. Was hard enough trying not to fuck you stupid right there in the middle of the ballroom.” 
You whine, tears flowing down freely at the sheer pleasure at this point. “Y-you-” you gasp, your five fingers splaying out over Satoru’s head. Pushing even harsher, “You hngh- talk too much- m’so close-”
Partially because you really needed those pretty lips back at your heated core, partially because every word tumbling from his mouth had you throbbing embarrassingly, your slick spreading a glossy sheen on the sheets underneath you. 
“Oh yeah? Heh, anything for you, flower.” Satoru grins such a sly, sultry grin and you feel it against one set of your swollen lips. “Absolutely anything.”
In and out in and out. He has his brows furrowed now, concentrated on having every flick and divot of movement pushing you closer and closer towards the edge. Faster. Sloppier. You have half the mind to wonder whether it didn’t hurt - whether Satoru’s tongue wasn’t cramping up from how fast he was going, whether his fingers weren’t tired already.
Out of the corner of your spotty vision, you can see those stuttering squeezes of Satoru’s hand speed up. Trying desperately to match each bullying push of his tongue and his fingers into your overstuffed pussy. 
The thought makes you whine, “Oh my god- Toru, m’gonna cum.” And shit, at this point it’s too much. You couldn’t think - you couldn’t even breathe. “M’so close please.” Barely able to even register anything but Satoru Satoru Satoru-
It’s why you don’t even realize at first when you’re finally cumming - Satoru does, though. He feels it in the way your heavenly walls are closing down on his fingers, clenching around him so tight that it was almost difficult to fuck you through your orgasm. Waves of electric pleasure crashing into you and you think you’re drowning.
“Tha’s it.” he rasps. “Cum f’me like that, tha’s it- thaaat’s it, such a good lil’ wife- a perfect mate.” 
The fingers stuffed deep inside your pussy are being pulled out in a flash - not letting you waste a moment of your heady high before he’s toying ravenously with your swollen clit. Pinching, and rolling between two soft fingers. 
“O-oh fuck, m’-cumming? M’cumming m’cumming-” you moan deliriously, mind just now catching up. Your hips drag your sloppy pussy all over Satoru’s pretty face. Just drenching his noble features with your gushing mess. “Feels too ah- good, Toru.”
And he takes it like it’s everything he needs - everything he’s ever wanted. 
Jaw falling slack to let your juices slide down his throat, tongue lolling out flick your spasming cunt through your high. Unstopping. Unwavering. 
Even when your vision stops tingeing with black at the edges, even when you think you’re sane enough to form a coherent thought. Even when your climax is bating enough that every flick of Satoru’s tongue only sends almost painful thrums of pleasure down your spine.
“W-wait m’done-” you sob, tasting the salty stream of tears splashing down your face now. “S’too sensitive- ngh-”
When he doesn’t show any signs of stopping anytime soon, you try again - this time thinking the embarrassing thought out loud. I…I really want you inside me now, Toru. Please?
And he pauses - jolting, as if some dark, primal part of him had just been called back to life. Tongue still hot on your cunt, fist still greedy around his rock-hard shaft. 
“F-fuck you’re gonna be the death of me, flower.”
And before, you couldn’t get enough of those striking blue eyes, but now you couldn’t escape them.
With inhuman speed, he’s shuffling up the soaked sheets. “An absolute fuckin-” Slick-glossed lips meet yours, smearing along the combination of juices till the lower half of your face was as dripping wet as Satoru’s. “-minx, y’know that?”
“Wh-what can I say?” you tilt your head with a smirk, lips a bit too loose than you’d like - but it didn’t matter anyway, he was in your thoughts. Your mind. “I’m your mate, after all.”
He falls back onto his knees at that sinful little sentence of yours, throwing his head back in a guttural groan. “Fuck- you’re mine alright. See what you hah- do to me? See how this is all your fault?” 
If Satoru expected an answer, then he doesn’t receive it. Because every snippy little retort on the tip of your tongue melts when you get a long, hard look at the angry shaft in his hand. So red and angry. Thick enough that you felt your cunt quiver already.
Delicate with prominent veins that glistened and throbbed down his long, long length with each slew of his vigorous fist. And his tip- fuck, blushed your favorite shade of weepy pink, slobbering a sheen of precum all down his wrist, his tufts of cloudy white. 
And you realize with a jolt that he still had your panties wrapped around him - looking so tiny around Satoru’s massive cock. 
Wordlessly, your hand replaces his.
“W-woah- fuck-” His toned waist flexes with the effort to fuck up into the soft cushion of your palm. “How the- ngh how the fuck does your fuckin’ hand feel this good?”
“You’re so big- fuck, don’t know how I’d- Wait you never imagined this?” you bat your eyes up with faux innocence. A thumb gliding over that deep divot on the very tip of his fat head. “Because I sure have, Toru.” 
Satoru’s heavy balls smack against your arm when he shuffles down his pants even further, now fully letting you go ahead with your agonizing torture. “Shit-” he yelps, eyes screwing shut at the image. “Don’t- don’t say that, holy shit.”
You toy with your scrap of panties, massaging every ridge and curve with it. Just dragging your hand up and down. “Would you rather I think it instead?”
Within milliseconds, two sharp fangs are poised right above your rapid pulse, a hand around your throat. “No- no no no no-” Satoru gasps, sounding like he was at the end of his rope. And it takes him a few blinks to realize his position, immediately moving his lips up to nip at your jaw. “Fuckin’ no.” Hard enough that another red pearl of blood drips out, instantly being sucked up greedily by your fiancé. “Gonna make me lose it before I-I ngh-”
With a pained growl, he suddenly has you sitting so prettily on his muscular lap. Your legs splayed out like such a slut, needy cunt slobbering all over where you were sat right on his demanding erection. 
By the time you’re realizing your helpless position, it’s too late - and Satoru’s already shrugging off the rest of his pants. Buttons hitting the floor when he just tears his flowing dress shirt off. 
“Sh-show off.” you breathe, hands mapping out every dip and curve of the plane of defined muscles displayed before you. So mouthwatering. 
“Can tell that you- ngh think m’mouthwatering, flower.” he grins. One hand kneading and groping the flesh of your ass to steady your drooling cunt to kiss at his thick tip. The other keeping one of your palms stuck to his washboard abs, up, up, up to press at his sculpted left pec. “N’ I know m’heart’s not beating, but I’m much the same. Very- much the- same.”
And Satoru’s spent years waiting, yearning - so he doesn’t waste even a second more when stuffing his cock inside your snug cunt. 
“O-oh. Satoru- Satoru please oh-”
The stretch - fuck, the stretch. The stretch is so much that it feels like you’re being split apart. Just the bare tip of his fat cock being bullied in short, determined half-thrusts. 
And it takes only one, lucky collision into the bullseye of your g-spot and you’re already falling apart. 
“Wait- wait wait wait m’gonna-” you gasp, your nails running down his broad, milky back in jagged red lines when you’re cumming once more. Toes curling, hips convulsing wildly on top of a smug Satoru. “Oh my god, ngh- what’ve you done to me, Toru?”
“Now, let me ngh- let me tell you a little secret, hah- princess.” His hand comes up to cup your jaw, gifting a sweet kiss on your swollen lips. “The best thing about mates?” Sharp fangs catch onto your delicate skin, “They feel sex on a whole other level.”
And then he’s bringing down both hands to spread apart the globes of your ass. Your puffy folds are stretched to their limits when he thrusts up once. Muscled thighs flexing underneath yours. Harsh. 
Ignoring your pleading keens and the slight resistance at the intrusion of his intimidating size, “Hold on, princess- hold- fuuuuck.” Lips latch onto yours, drinking up every heady whine when your poor cunt is being fed every inch by fucking inch. “You’re taking me so well.”
And that you were - your pussy lips bulging and struggling to accommodate Satoru’s monstrous size, but still taking him in so greedily. 
“There we go.” he grunts out, punctuated with heavy rams of hips. Up, up, up until you could feel Satoru’s sobbing tip graze against your cervix - your lungs. “Theeere we fuckin’-” Pushing and pushing until there was no more, until your neglected clit was scratching against his snowy pubic hair. Ass coming to rest at his twitching balls. “-go.”
“You’re in so deep-” you’re blabbering, cockdrunk already. The last few dredges of your high still not wearing off, it takes you a few seconds of Satoru still trying to squeeze his cock even deeper to manage to raise a hand about midway up your stomach. Feeling for that vertical bulge that was him, “-can feel you right here.”
“Oh yeah?”
And like he was testing your theory, Satoru fucks up into your gummy hole in another bullying slam. Watching in wonder at the way that little divot in your stomach crashes around the same spongy cervix he was. 
“Fuck- you’re right.” he hisses. Addicted now. Immediately rocking into you with reeling, long rolls of his hips. “You’re so- fuckin’ right.”
You can’t find the energy in yourself to even yelp in surprise when Satoru immediately changes your positions so that you’re now laying fucked-out on the mattress. His domineering hips pinning you down to use you like some little cocksleeve. 
“God-” he pants into your open mouth, tongue swirling with your weighty one. “God- fuck fuck fuck if heaven is real then this is it.” Each little profanity is decorated with a smoldering crash of his tip into your sweet spot. “You’re the heaven I don’t ngh- deserve, flower.”
That neat bitemark on your thigh is being jostled with the amount of ragged movement, and you wince with pain when it starts flowing again. 
“Oh- oh.” 
Satoru’s like a predator that has cornered his prey, and is spending hours tediously unraveling every single bit of you. 
Sliding two smooth palms underneath your legs, they’re urgently thrown over his large shoulders to fold you down, down, down into the meanest mating press you think you could handle - handle without fucking breaking, that is. 
“So good t’me.” he breathes, long tongue easily licking up that sweet nectar of your blood. “Y’know your cute lil’ brain s’too scrambled to even read right now.”
“H-how can I think when you’re ah! Like- like this, Toru?”
The sudden change in angle makes you scream. It makes you clamor for the headboard, the sheets, your husband when that obscenely perfect upwards curve of his dick is massaging every nook and cranny of your cunt. 
“Yeah? Feels good? Now now- don’t run- away” he’s dragging you down those drenched sheets by the legs like some ragdoll, stuffing you more and more with his painful cock. Fucking you so relentless, like he was trying to worship every little hidden sweet spot inside your dripping cunt. “Say it- no no no, not in your head. Say it.”
And you do - a little over fifteen times when his thick hilt pecks your pussy lips over and over with each thrust when Satoru bottoms out, hitting all the way into the back of your cunt - your cervix, your g-spot - like he couldn’t decide which one to bruise more. 
“S’too good-” you’re gasping. Your overstimulated pussy being molded like clay to the girthy shaft kissing down your cunt. Stretching out your elastic walls until you could almost feel them take shape to his swollen cock. Feel every sensitive spot inside you being overstimulated at once with every burning massage against them. “You’re fuckin’ me way too- too good- ngh- can’t even think.”
But that wasn’t enough for him.
Dipping a thumb down to circle around your clit, white-hot pleasure shoots up your spine when he lets out a deep rumble, “Think I fell in love with you when I- fuck, right then and there when I first- hah saw you all those years back.” speeding up with the sloppy staccato of his rude cock. Satoru’s words slurring now, messed up and half-prepared like the accelerating half-thrusts being bestowed upon your ravaged cunt. Like he couldn’t bear to pull out completely. “The first time you saw me, you were so afraid. Look at you- fuck, jus’ look at you now, princess.”
Each word is like a brand onto your sticky skin, accompanied by harsh smacks of Satoru’s balls against your ass, his sharp hip bones digging into your thighs. Him.
“Toru–” is all you can manage to whine out, a limp hand pulling his face closer to yours. You’re jumping with each swipe at your poor clit. “Toru m’here.”
“And- and yet-” he’s still blabbering, still pussydrunk while he fucks you so menacingly. Fingers sopping wet with their assault on your sensitive nub, “And yet I just- fuck-” He cuts himself off to give your messy hole another thick stream of spit. Coating his long, raw shaft - rubbed red with the way your gripping walls were massaging him so right - making it easier to slide in and out. “And yet, I just had to see you, to see the gorgeous mate I don’t deserve. I couldn’t live without you.”
A single overstimulated tear glistens a track down Satoru’s pretty face - one you kiss away as quickly as it appeared. Nudging open those teary, blue gaze to bore down on you. 
Oh, he looked an absolute wreck - white hair mussed up, stray strands sticking to his forehead. Glossy lips parted, drool pooling at the corner, broken grunts leaving him with each smash of his tip back into your cunt. So blissed out. 
Jolting at your eyes on him, Satoru feels his balls tighten so painfully. Abs burning when his pace stutters with need. 
“You’re haunting me, just as much as I was haunting you, Toru.”
The candles go out. Instantly. 
And shit you’re feeling it first when when hé’s cumming and cumming so hard that it almost hurts. Flashes of white startling behind his closed, glassy eyes. “Shit- shit shit shit shit-” Hairs on your body raising as Satoru’s fingers draw circles on your clit so aggressively. Dragging out your high. Forcing it. “Take it- take it all, my flower. Let me paint this pretty pussy all white.” Violent, almost.
So, really, it makes sense that your third orgasm of the night was the same. 
Just shivering, sinful tingles running from your overstimulated mind right down to where Satoru was stuffing thick white ropes of potent seed deeper and deeper down your tight channel. 
Overspilling with each calculated ram, his cum is oozing out of the corners of your puffy lips with each furious clench of his balls. Too much. 
And it’s all you can do to sit there and take it, feeling the sloppy dredges of cum make a mess slobbering down your thighs and his. Starting up blearily at the blurry paintings on the ceilings. The paintings of you - of a still Satoru that looked down at you with only half as much intensity and pure swirling emotion as he was right now.
Something that couldn’t be painted - but would make such a pretty picture, when his fangs bite into that racing junction at your neck.
You scream a soundless scream of his name, eyes rolling to the back of your head as something warm fills your entire body. 
Leaving your words unheard, your ravaged hole loose to let out slobbering squelches of Satoru’s cum. Blood racing and flowing right into Satoru’s greedy mouth. 
“Princess-” he gulps. Tongue licking up every crimson bead his crazed eyes could spot, body aching when he dares pull away from that heavenly taste. More. “Princess princess princess- you- hngh you’re mine. All mine now.”
And he’s letting out more thick globs of cum straight into your waiting cunt. Body bowing even harder to let it seep into your elastic walls, your womb. So much more than you can take and he just keeps giving. 
It seems like forever when Satoru finally pulls away - and within the glowing blue of his eyes, you can see the red staining his lips, dripping down those fangs, his chin. Staining the silk sheets below - staining you with so much more. 
Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching up to catch his lips in a bloodied kiss. Your own elongated canines catching amateurishly on his lips. 
Satoru hisses - but he likes it. And you can tell. 
You can read every single hypnotizing thought whirling behind those crystal blue eyes - how he wants to ravish you again, how he wants to worship you. To make you his all over, to have you make him yours. The thought makes you smile as you whisper, “I’m onto you, Toru.”
“You’re onto me, flower.” Catching your lips in a sweet, sweet red kiss. “Forever.”
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A/N. This was SOOO fun to write omg y’all have no idea. If you made it this far then you get a sloppy smooch from me mwahhhh.
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guubiiz · 6 months ago
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heartslabyul would be named my favorite dorm if i didn’t despise riddle.
#he’s just ......#if you don’t like him either you understand#( though i relate to riddle as a character i don’t like him for some reason )#he can be a lil’ bit silly a times ( and i mean LITTLE ) but most of the time he’s still just as unlikeable and an asshole as when we-#-first met him#i feel like a lot of the “development” is just at the end of their ob’s n’ never actually happens#idk .. the only dorm leaders i can confidently say i like as characters is leona vil n’ kalim#leona is like .. barely passing as one but i think that he’s shown to be v emotionally intelligent and i like that#vil is an absolutely wonderful character. he’s not my fav but i honestly think he’s the best character ( lilia being second )#and kalim is v v sweet ( though he’s portrayed as dense ). i think he has so much potential and it’d be wonderful if something ever happened#for the others-#idia i can relate to as a game lover n’ extreme introvert / people avoider. but he’s such a fucking dick n’ he’s got this giant superiority-#-complex but he also has an inferiority complex ??? idk when i finished watching through book 6 i didn’t really feel bad for him at all.#ortho i did but idia was still a mega bitch at the end.#azul is an absolute loser ( negative ) n’ i still think book 3 is ( n’ always will be ) the weakest#he gets the “handsome glasses” pass n’ also because i am an ursula lover#jamil ( since he ob ) is a character i LIKE but he is also just a bitch#his char development is near non-existent#kalim “set him free” or whatever the hell but it feels like his life is still centered around him? ik he’s still his servant but i wish-#-that jamil was shown as being his own person now.#and he literally thinks he’s better than everyone ... good lord.#book 6 was almost unbearable when watching him n’ leona’s part#malleus is soooooo fucking annoying atp. he’s not handsome sexy dragon he’s annoying ass crybaby. sorry but after his ob reason it’s just-#-more true.#DON’T GET ME WRONG#I LOVE ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND WHAT THEY’RE MEANT TO DO THEY DO V WELL#BUT GOD DO THEY PISS ME OFF SOMETIMES#they all have their good moments and they have their bad.#anyway this was just a rant. don’t expect this to be read#half of these thoughts don’t really make sense since i’m shoving them into the tags
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wttcsms · 5 months ago
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ match my freak !!
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ᝰ.ᐟ the two of you are private not secret, but when the media starts to speculate that the two of you are no longer together, neither of you are too happy. the best way to get everyone to stop with the breakup rumors? posting something a little bit nasty to the feed to satiate everyone's curiosity. (fem!reader)
featuring tobio kageyama, atsumu miya, tetsurou kuroo, wakatoshi ushijima, tooru oikawa, rintarou suna content contains breeding kink (atsumu, wakatoshi), pregnant reader (wakatoshi), famous!reader (changes depending on scenario), creampie (tetsurou), hatefucking (not really, you + kuroo just like to antagonize each other but the attraction is there), scratches on his back (tobio), hickeys (tooru), wet n messy (rintarou), possessive!character x possessive!reader (the two of you are obsessed with each other ok), social media references lol author's notes i'm definitely doing a blue lock version, i'm just seeing if this is a popular premise lol <3 based off this original concept !! these are just silly little drabbles for me to warm up to the idea of writing again haha
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౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA
your fans are speculating: that you and kageyama have broken up. fans are recording footage from you on your latest tour and claim that you're "clearly disassociating" and "somewhere else mentally" when it comes to singing your iconic love songs. you and kageyama have always kept your relationship private because he's not a very open person to begin with, and you don't want to give the media more material to misconstrue. you know that kageyama hates when some random person will annotate your verses on genius lyrics and try to make the claim that your innocent metaphor is you wanting to jump ship and leave kageyama. and you hate how it's your own fans who are making wild accusations of you no longer being with the man all your love songs are about.
you posted: kageyama, with his back turned to the camera so all that fills your camera is the surprisingly broad expanse of his muscular back and shoulders. he's not even flexing, and it's obvious that he's a world-class athlete. he's facing the closet, trying to find a shirt to put on, and it would be a semi-innocent photo, the pinterest-perfect photo inspo for every private not secret relationship out there, except for the fact that there are clearly faint, red lines — scratches — running down his back. you caption the photo with a "monday morning 🤍" (your insane fans spam the comment section to exclaim how they knew you two were still a thing... and to speculate that this photo is somehow an easter egg for an upcoming song/album. well, they're right: you two will always be a thing, and tobio dicked you down so good last night that you could write him a whole album.)
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"fuck," the word slips through his gritted teeth, and you can tell that your tobio is still upset about how your fans seem divided. half of them claim no one could ever make them hate tobio (you find those fans to be absolutely adorable), and the other half...
well, the other half are making slideshow posts to audios that go "some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world" and the ones that seem to go viral are always the ones that feature you and tobio.
"not hidin' you away." he mutters, never slowing down his thrusts. he admires the expression on your face as he fucks into you, his ego pleased with how receptive you are to his every movement. he has you speared on his cock, your tight little cunt full of him, your eyes getting so adorably teared-up because he's just a little bit too much for you to handle. tobio isn't good with words; he thinks you're the most beautiful girl to exist, but he can't verbalize it. so he just takes in your sweet, fucked-out face, the reaction only he's capable of drawing from you, and it all gets so overwhelming for him.
he has to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your body wash as he continues to bully his cock into your soaked pussy. "why's it bad if i want to keep you all to myself?" he's practically whining, and you think this would be so cute if only you weren't currently chasing after your release. or rather, tobio's forcing you to cum, whether you want to or not. it's not like you can stop him; tobio devotes himself to always ensuring that you finish before him. he likes the satisfaction of knowing only he can take care of you, and he especially likes the way his cock looks with you creaming all over it.
when he gets like this, all you can do is cling to him, your arms wrapped around his muscular build. when he gets rough with his thrusts, when his body gets just the slightest bit sweaty from the exertion (evidence of just how much work he puts into fucking you), you have to dig your manicured nails (the set he paid for) into the skin of his toned back. otherwise, you'd lose your grip, and your hands would slip off.
tobio relishes the slight stinging pain of your nails scratching down his skin. but the scratches aren't enough. he needs to make you cum. when you get so caught up in your climax, you start clawing at him as you lose control. he loves the scratches you leave on him; it's proof that he's yours just as much as you are his.
౨ৎ ATSUMU MIYA
haters are saying: that you're just using atsumu for content. you're a gold digger. you're not genuine. you're not "wifey material." spectators are claiming that atsumu is playing worse than before because he's too "pussywhipped" for you. well, he likes to cheekily admit to you that he is addicted to your pussy, but they're wrong about everything else. obviously. however, the haters are feeling very vindicated whenever they see atsumu hasn't been posting you as much. (you're traveling for a new vlog series on your page, but no one knows.)
he posted: a mirror selfie. which isn't breaking news. atsumu miya always breaks the internet when he posts a mirror selfie because the only thing worse than a hot guy is a hot guy who knows he's hot. no one is a stranger to the sight of a post-workout, sweaty, shirtless atsumu, who flaunts his tight abs and muscular thighs with a steamy mirror selfie. but this photo? this one is going triple platinum. it's going down in history. this selfie is taken in dim lighting; the curtains in the background are drawn shut, he's got one hand gripping his phone (making the phone look tiny in his big hand), and he's got one arm wrapped around you. it's not an innocent hug, though. he's cupping your ass, and the phone in front of his face does nothing to shield his satisfied smirk. you're clad in nothing but lacy lingerie from a designer who loves to sponsor you, and you're clinging to his side, almost like you can't even stand without his support. it's clear that the two of you definitely were... appreciating the work your favorite designer put in when they created that lacy set.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"what do you think?" you're smiling at him, knowing damn well what he's thinking.
atsumu looks up at you, reflexively licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you wearing a new set of lingerie that you just got delivered. it leaves little room for imagination, and the material looks so delicate, atsumu is already thinking about how he'll have to apologize to the designer for ripping it off of you.
"i think I'm the luckiest man alive right now." atsumu is shameless in the way he's admiring you, the way the setting sun still peeks through the curtains, enveloping your body in a delicious golden glow as you inch closer and closer to him.
in a matter of seconds, he's pulling you on top of him, placing wet, sloppy kisses over any centimeter of your skin he can reach. when you make a move to slip off the panties, he protests.
"leave 'em on f'me, baby. please?"
he fucks you with you still wearing the lingerie set. your breasts are spilling out of the bra, and all he did was move your panties to the side so he could stretch you out with his cock.
"fuckin' idiots, tellin' me you're not good enough to marry. i'll show 'em what a good girl you are, right? gonna put a ring on your finger, and make you my wife." he's fucking his cock into you, making sure that your cute cunt knows who it belongs to. "gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. no one's gonna say shit about our family, huh? 'cause i won't let 'em."
your cunt clenches up so nicely with every comment he makes that atsumu knows he has to make all those pussydrunk promises come true.
౨ৎ TETSUROU KUROO
the tabloids are posting: paparazzi photos of you — the socialite daughter of the man who owns the msby black jackals, and jva's promotion division's golden boy, tetsurou kuroo. it's late at night, and the two of you are clearly leaving a party celebrating the success of another eventful volleyball season. you're wearing the iconic ysl heels with a black mini-dress that honestly should be called a micro-dress. your hair is a mess, you're walking like your knees are struggling not to wobble, and walking three steps behind you despite his longer stride is kuroo; his tie is crooked, his cheeks are flushed, and he has a grin that says something like i just fucked one of the richest bratty heiresses in japan, and i left her wanting more. the amount of blind items that are allegedly alluding to you and kuroo are being spread all over tiktok. one reads, "this sports club heiress was seen exiting a party with this semi-known marketing mastermind who works in the sports industry. apparently, they couldn't keep their hands off each other, and no one can recall seeing them together during the party; everyone only caught glimpses of them running away from the festivities together."
you posted: a photo slideshow on instagram of your absolutely iconic outfit from the party, only these photos were clearly taken before the party. your hair is done, your makeup is perfect, and your caption states don't believe everything you read. the last slide is a screenshot of an online headline speculating about your "new man" with a photo of a grinning kuroo from that night. the reason why this makes everyone go insane is because you're no stranger to a scandal — this is, however, the first time you've ever addressed a headline.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"hurry up," you hiss, your eyes darting from left to right as you make sure no one is nowhere near the secluded corridor kuroo somehow managed to find.
"y'know, i thought girls were supposed to like guys who don't blow their loads prematurely." even when he's bullying his cock into your slicked up cunt, savoring the way your sensitive walls are clenching around his dick, tetsurou has a very annoying habit of still sounding entirely in control. for someone who can't keep his hands to himself when it comes to you, he's irritatingly great at playing nonchalant.
but he's just a man, after all. he might tower over you, his large body shielding you from any prying eyes, and he might know your body so well that he can bring you to completion twice (once with his fingers curling against that special spot of yours, and another one so rudely wrung out from you when he slid his cock in your orgasm-recovering, overly sensitive pussy) in just the fifteen minutes he's been toying with you tonight, but you know that he must be feeling something. you saw him shift his pants the moment his eyes met yours from across the room, when his eyes travelled down your body and followed the way your dress emphasized the curvatures of your body.
"if you don't finish right now, i'm not going to let you cum inside." you threaten him, trying to steady your voice as you bite back a moan. it'd be a major issue if the two of you got caught, with the volleyball association's golden boy being buried balls-deep inside a sports team owner's bratty daughter.
with every sharp snap of his hips, kuroo is only forcing more slick to come gushing out of your pussy. he can't even take the time to admire the white ring you left around his cock; he's too focused on chasing after his release because he didn't get to where he's at by not being opportunistic.
"if i cum inside, you have to keep it in your panties the whole night. you wouldn't want that, would you?" he sounds a little breathless now, his pace quickening as his thrusts get sloppier. he's smiling at you, that damn annoying smile that makes you want to roll your eyes or insult him. but your body betrays you. his grin only widens when your pussy tightens up at the idea of having his cum soaking in your panties while you interact with people at this party. a dirty little secret shared only between you two.
he lets out a breathy chuckle at your body's betrayal. "okay, princess. since you want it so badly, i guess i better give it to you."
you could practically cum again the minute you feel the warmth of him finishing inside of you. you're a spoiled brat who gets what she wants, and while you refuse to admit it, you want him. all of him.
and he's going to give it to you.
౨ৎ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA
the media is going crazy over: the fact that ushijima is the type of person who doesn't clarify anything because he just assumes that everyone can read his mind. he's blunt, sure, but he's not really the type who does much explaining. after the first game of the season, an interviewer asks him if he enjoyed spending the off-season with you, his girlfriend and one of the most beloved, fan-favorite WAGs of all time. ushijima stares straight into the camera as he states in his usual deep, flat rumble of a voice, "the off-season was successful, but she isn't my girlfriend anymore. thank you." and then he just walks off, like he didn't just drop the most insane piece of information ever?
he posted: a photo of an ultrasound that was clearly taken out of his wallet since it's thrown on the table in the background. he's holding it in his left hand, and the overhead lighting is reflected from the silver wedding band he's wearing. now that he's off the court, he's able to wear it. in typical ushijima fashion, there is no caption, but a picture is worth a thousand words. you're not his girlfriend. you're his wife, and soon to be mother of his child.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"mmph — 'toshi!" you squeal out, your calves burning from the stretch as your beloved wakatoshi has your legs bent and spread for him. he's just so big that you'd never be able to handle all of him, and yet, here you are, bent into a mating press every night since the two of you have gotten married. you try to beg him to slow down, but words escape you as he buries himself into your pussy, letting out a deep, guttural groan as the warmth of your cunt coats his cock. there's no better feeling than this.
even if you could request for him to slow down, it wouldn't have mattered or made much of a difference. your husband has a one-track mind. when wakatoshi is set on a goal, it's hard to break his focus until he sees it to the end. and right now, wakatoshi's goal is to fuck a baby into you, to see you round with life because of the seeds he planted.
he's hunched over you, abs tightening and flexing with every sharp inhale of breath he takes. he's gonna fuck himself empty, going to keep filling your cunt with his seed 'til he's shooting blanks. his eyes glance at the ring he put on your finger before returning to admire your blissful expression and the way your body seems to have gone boneless from all the fucking he's had you endure.
"just a little bit longer." he manages to say, before forcing his cock in even deeper. "just have to make sure it takes."
౨ৎ TOORU OIKAWA
everyone is claiming: long distance relationships never last. when oikawa makes the shocking announcement that he is no longer a japanese citizen, everyone immediately wondered what that meant for the future of your relationship. does that mean it's over? officially? if oikawa is leaving behind his hometown, then by default, is he leaving you behind too?
he posted: a photo slideshow, only most of the images were clearly taken by you. the first one is of him driving; the two of you are in his convertible, and he's wearing a white button down with most of the buttons undone. on the stark white of the shirt are kiss marks; the imprint of your lips lined with cherry-red lipstick are all over the material of his shirt and on his freshly-tanned skin. the other photos are of what you two ate for dinner, the sunset from the beach, and a selfie of you two looking more in love than ever. fans are quick to point out the massive hickey on your neck, and tooru tags you in a reply to the top comment that points it out, and he's saying "you missed a spot babe." you reply back, "i ran out of concealer because you gave me too many to cover"
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
"i missed you," your boyfriend mumbles into your soft skin. tooru can get so clingy when he goes long periods without seeing you, and you indulge him because he's tooru. he's got his face buried in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his breath is warm against your skin as he speaks.
"everyone is saying i'm abandoning you, but that's not true." he whines.
"i know, baby. i don't care." you laugh softly, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of his hair. he settles into you, and it's almost sweet, until he starts nipping at your skin.
"tooru, what are you doing?" you can't find it in yourself to chastise him too harshly, but you do have to restrain yourself from pulling back.
"jus' want to show everyone that you're still my girl." he peers up at you, licking his lips. "you'll let me do that, won't you?"
tooru bites and sucks at your skin, sharp canines grazing your soft flesh. he sucks at your most sensitive areas while he works his fingers in and out of your gushing cunt. when he pulls his fingers out and holds them up, so the sunlight can shine and really highlight how much of your juices is coating his digits, he smiles. his girl gets this wet just from him marking you up?
as he sucks on his fingers, relishing in the way you taste, he can't help but be happy to know that no matter how far away the two of you are from each other (for now), you're still his girl.
౨ৎ RINTAROU SUNA
your fans are telling you: suna doesn't care about you. suna doesn't put forth any effort into your relationship. suna literally streams on twitch during the off-season yet he can't seem to ever post you?? suna doesn't deserve you. suna—
suna is a lot of things, but nothing like the deadbeat, ashamed boyfriend allegations. in fact, all your well-meaning fans are so far off on how he treats you that you and him get a good laugh from the outrageous conclusions they've jumped to.
you posted: a photo of rintarou with his head on your lap, and you've got your fingers playing with his hair. it's a sweet photo, really. except for the fact that you decided to pair it with an audio that's a snippet of a song that goes "he's so pretty when he goes down on me" and a caption that reads this song is so relatable 🤍
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩
anyone who thinks rintarou is a selfish lover, a lazy lover, someone who merely tolerates you or is ashamed to be with you... they clearly don't know either of you very well.
because even when he's exhausted from practice, rintarou comes home craving you. craving your sweetness, your warmth, your love — and your pussy. he's obsessed. rintarou suna loves to eat you out, and he does it with such passion, such enthusiasm, that it's hard to refuse him, even if he's been going at it for the past hour.
your juices are leaving a stain on the bedsheets, and your slick is coating your inner thighs. it doesn't help that rintarou is messy with his technique. he needs your legs spread for him, granting him easy access for him to just dig in. he's still in his practice jersey, and when he feels your grip loosening from the strands of hair you're tugging at, he'll slow down his pace, calming down to just tiny kitten licks while he peers up at you.
your head is thrown back in pleasure, and your hips have a mind of their own as they still jut forward, as if trying to bring your cunt impossibly closer to him. no need for that, really, seeing as how he craves to bury himself in your warmth, to suck on your cute little clit and have you humming all over his tongue.
"rinnie." you whine out, still subconsciously bucking up your hips. he smiles before resuming his original ministrations, gluttonous and greedy with how sloppy and hungry he is with you. if you're still capable of talking, then you're not too fucked out to not allow him to get his fill.
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nkogneatho · 5 months ago
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— 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖, 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍
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—characters: gojo, toji, geto, sukuna, nanami, choso
—cw: lactation ofc, fem!reader, nicknames, aphrodisiac (the milk), intoxication, masturbation, semi-public, dry humping.
—a/n: i have officially surprised myself with how insane i can really be. ya gurl so thirsty she created her own universe where men gib milkies 🧍🏽‍♀️
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introduction to the universe:
Evolution took place a little differently in this universe. A mutation caused hormonal presence that triggers monthly lactation in men for 3 to 5 days, and it usually starts in their early 20s. It is studied that it does not serve any purpose of feeding like female lactation, but might be an indicator to arousal, and even a mating call due to accurate findings of natural aphrodisiacs in the milk produced by the thin gland located in a breast. It also pains a lot and causes swelling of nipples. While scientific advancements have yet to develop a pill that might solve this problem, the most effective natural method to be proven is letting another person suck it.
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
It had been quite a long day at work. You knew you were the last to arrive home when you found his boots messed on the floor.
“Toru?” You called out his name, failed to receive a response. “Toru, baby, ' m home.” The wooden door of the shoe cabinet creaked as you closed it after placing the footwear in their place.
The house smelled…sweeter, felt warmer than usual. Making your way to the bedroom, you found clothes scattered on the floor near the entrance. The door was ajar which means your eyes had quick access to what was happening.
“Fuck! Ah! Ah! Mhmm.” You watched in surprise as your boyfriend kept fisting his cock, but wait. Something was different. You moved closer and found his hands squeezing his tits, milk oozing and drenching his naked body. But his heat doesn't arrive until next week. You thought. It was not uncommon for heats to arrive irregularly. It only meant that his hormone level had increased due to sexual frustration. Your eyes scanned his position, his movements. A hand reaching down to rub the wetness forming between your legs. You couldn't take it anymore.
“Need a hand?” You asked, announcing yourself in the room to let the man know he wasn't alone.
“Oh fuck! I thought I locked the door,” he panicked, yet he didn't remove his from his cock, just another arm covering his chest.
“And deprive me of this treat? I don't think so, baby.” You walked closer until you were hovering over him, kissing softly. Heat always has Satoru acting needy and you knew it.
“Touch me, doll. Please.” You smiled at his eagerness.
“I will do more than just touch.” Slapping his wrist away that were blocking the view of his lovely tits, you pushed him until he was laying flat. Your clothed pussy grinding in his naked cock as you leaned and took one of his nipples in your mouth.
“F-fuck.” he stuttered. “Don't. I am early this month. The flow is too much—ngh—you'll get high.” As if that was going to stop you? You started sucking more aggressively. He was right. The flow really was too much because you found yourself gulping a mouthful of his sweet milk, as your other hand reached down jerked his cock.
“Baby…ah! Keep doing that. I am close.” He is so silly to think he can relieve himself on his own when it never works. “Holy fhhuuck! Gonna c—aahhh!” You watched as he arched his back, white spurts covering your hands and other white liquid wetting your jaw. You sat up, removing your top as you already felt dizzy.
“We're not done, Toru. Wan'you to fuck me nasty while I suck your milk.” And he was hard again at your words.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
You loved spring. It was your favorite season to go out. Not too cold. Not too hot. Just the perfect amount of wind and sun. Apparently, it is also a perfect season for outdoor dates. You and Toji preferred to stay in most of the time but the cherry blossoms were too precious to be enjoyed from your windows or TV screen.
“Toji, you ready?” you asked your husband, packing things in your cute pink purse.
“Uhm, princess? Think we might need to cancel the date.” His muffled voice emerged through the bedroom.
“What?” You yelled as you stomped to the bedroom. “What do you mean we might need to c—oh…" Your legs stopped, body taken aback as you stared at his shirtless body, tone muscles and triceps flexing as he squeezed his tits, squirting the milk out.
“I am over-lactating.”
“What happened to the breast cups?”
“Look at me princess. 'm leaking too much. They ain't gon' hold it. Agh fuck!” He spat angrily as you watched the milk travel down his abs, covering it in sweetness.
“Fuck the date. I have a better plan.” You winked at him.
“Shit. Calm down, ma—ugh. Y'er gonna bruise my tits." You were riding his rock, rocking your body back and forth on his crotch while sucking his swollen dark peachy nipples. Your hands struggled to hold his chest because they were bigger than it, causing your nails to dig into the skin.
“Mmh lvove yvour mwilk shwo mwuch.” Your dirty muffled comments vibrating on his skin.
“Y'er drunk, ma. Ya like to get drunk on daddy's milk, hmm?” He cooed, planting a spank on your ass.
“Lwove it.”
“Hm mhh,” he chuckled. “Nasty fucking girl. Move—ahh! Move faster. Need to cum.” You followed his orders, not looking up once to meet his eyes but busy soaking in the drug and flavor of his milk.
“Ngh—twoji, too much. Wan' a break.” You complained, but he was not going to let you stop. This was your plan after all.
“Nuh uh! Don't pull that now.” He grabbed your ass and started bouncing them up and down. You felt so insides bursting with pleasure, cheeks burning up, eyes rolling back. “Gonna cum, ma. Make sure this pussy drinks all my cum as you stuff your mouth with my milk—gahh! fhuck fhuck! fuuuuck!” He was talking as if you had a choice when one of his hand forced you down on his cock as he painted your hole in his cum, while the other hand pushed your face further against his tits. He watched as milk overflowed from the side of your lips. “Such a good girl f'me. You wan' more?”
𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍
Sukuna tend to get a bit crazier when he was in heat. He fucked you with more strength, came a lot more than usual. It was hard to keep his mood balanced. You tried to suggest him some diet during those days of the month, but he refused to eat greens. A big man like him fancies flesh. Furthermore, why does he need a diet when he has the most proven effective method?
“K-kuna…agh! Too biiig." You cried. Sukuna had you on top of him, his big body splayed on the king-size bed—that surprisingly was almost the same size as him—your thighs trembling, kneecaps digging the mattress as you struggled to keep hi dick inside. Your head was telling you to get off it. Yet, your tight little cunt craved more of him.
“Hmm,” he chuckled. “Your pussy has a habit of biting more than she can swallow.” His teases were humiliating. Your hands rested on his chest, tongue reminiscing the sweet taste of his milk. Even though you were not completely dominant in this relationship—it is hard to be one when you are dating a man like sukuna—there were times when you initiated the things he would usually pester you about. Your lustful eyes gave him a look he hadn't seen before. Soon, he felt your hands tightening around his tits. Now he knew what you were up to.
“Want a taste, my woman?” All you could do was give a light nod because most of your strength was busy rolling your waist on his cock. “Go ahead. Suck my milk out.”
Without a second thought, you found your lips kissing his puffy pink nipples. You could feel the veins throbbing as you were suckling his juice out. Sukuna's milk was sweet with a hint of tanginess. Nevertheless, you loved it.
“Shhit! Calm down woman. I am not going anywhere.” His words were just background noise to you because all you could hear is squelching of your pussy and your slurps on his tiddie.
“Mmghh! Don't tell me you're planning on getting drunk.” His shoulders adjusted themselves to get a better position. “If you are—fuck. Then don't expect me to go easy tonight.” You unlatched your mouth from him for what seemed like after fifteen minutes to finally speak.
“Want you to ruin my pussy, kuna. Mmh,” you jerked your hips forward. “Want you to fill my mouth with milk as you do it.”
“Get off.” His tone shifted from somewhat sweet to serious. You followed his orders anyway. You both exchanged positions so now he was on top of you.
“My dirty human. Better stick to your words, darling. I am not planning on stopping until you're drenched in my cum and my milk”
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
You always knew Suguru's heat cycle. As the days approached closer, he used to become more and more whiny and clingy, arguing with you over petty things. His behavior did a 180° on these days.
Earlier today, you had a discourse over chores. He nagged at how you should keep things in place, or you won't find them when you need it. You understood where he was coming from, but the work had taken quite a toll on you that you barely had energy tonight. He just wouldn't let it go, and you grew more frustrated. You yanked him by his wrist, dragging his giant, muscular body to the shower. And here you were, stroking him off as you nibbled, and suckled on his tits. The continuous pour of warm water stimulating both of you.
“This is what you wanted, right, sugu?” you looked up, chin nuzzling in his cleavage. “Nagging me the whole day. You just wanted your tits sucked.” His brows scrunched together. A large hand approached your face, cupping your cheeks. He had his fingers digging the muscle on your face until they squished together.
“Behave,” his voice stern. “Just 'cause 'm in heat doesn't mean you hold the upper hand, baby.”
“Oh, but I do, Sugu—*spank* Ah! What was that for?”
“For teasing me. I know you love drinking my milk, princess. Get to it 'cause I can't take it nomo.” He pressed your face against one of his boobs, your nose pressured a little above the nipple, forcing the spurts of milk out.
“You gon' let it fall down the drain?” Your immediate action was to cup his tiddy with both of your hands—his chest was too big to use one—massaging all of the juice out. You opened your mouth and let it aim at your tongue.
“Fucking hell! This is why—mmghh easy, princess. 'Tis all sore.”
“I gotchu, sugu.” You eased out the movement of your hands, gently kneading them.
“Fhuuck, yes. Just like that.” Other hand travelled back down, grabbing his throbbing boner, squeezing the base as you squeezed his nipples. Geto planted a kiss on top of your head. “Holy shit. Still can't believe you're mine.” Your lips morphed into a smile, teeth still grasping his nipple. “Look at'cha. My milk's getting your high already.” He picked you up bridal style, your tongue still licking his puffed chest, as he kicked the bathroom door open that lead to your bedroom. “You got your treat. Time f'me to get mine, princess.”
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
Working 9to5, staring all day at a computer screen is what your life had been all about. You switched companies to think you might get something new to do, but to no one's surprise, it was the same. Except, this one man you were crushing on since day one.
Nanami Kento was a gentleman they described in those fairytales. Always so respectful, kind and damn he was a big feminist. Although, with him being the perfect husband material, you were still never going to cross the line because you were co-workers. That didn't mean you weren't allowed to crush.
“And then Mr. Sasaki from HR department knocked the beer over,” your TL chattered. Nanami wasn't the one to gossip, but Sakurako-san was your team leader and older than everyone. She wasn't a bad person but oh boy did she love tea. You fake gasped to give her the reaction she wanted, as you side-eyed Kento who looked a bit uncomfortable.
“Then he had the audacity to—”
“Excuse me,” Nanami withdrew halfway from the conversation he wasn't even participating in much, walking away abruptly.
After a few minutes, you decided to look for him to make sure he was alright. Of course, as a co-worker, you should. Nothing related to the heart eyes you give him, right?
You stomped towards the corridor almost making a left until you heard loud coughs reverberating through the walls of the men's washroom. You swore it was him. Furthermore, you shouldn't have gone in. What were you thinking? It was a men's washroom, for fuck's sake. But what if something happened to him? Sure.
Pushing the door in a hurry, you entered, almost tripping. “Nanami-san—” You did not whether you should be embarrassed, shocked or horrified. Maybe all three.
“Are you okay?”
“You shouldn't be here, l/n-san.” True. But seeing him squeeze his tits, and milking himself down the drain was the sight you were blessed to see. You locked the door behind, the clicking of the latch making Nanami hold his breath, “What are you doing?”
“You're going to let all that milk go to waste, Kento?” His dick twitched. You never called him by his first name, and now you were asking inappropriate questions along with calling him Kento.
“L/N-san, this isn't right—”
“Shhh. Just wanna help you. We're colleagues, aren't we?” He nodded.
Without breaking any eye contact you hopped on the counter, hands reaching for his nipples glistening with milk under the off-white light. You pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the liquid staining it, only starting to cramming the swell more. Kento lost his composure, hands falling flat on the counter, head on your shoulders. Couple of shaky breaths, fading soft moans leaving his lips. Pushing him back for a second to only latch your tongue on the dark pink bud, you were sure you're way past the appropriate relationship of just work buddies.
“L/n—ah! Can I?” He darted his eyes down where the tent peeked out his gray formal pants. You smiled. Knowing he needed friction, you adjusted your pencil skirt, and wrapped your legs around him, boner pressed against wet patch on your panties. Nanami felt like he was in heaven. He started humping against your clothed pussy, being rough contradictory to his gentle innocent touches to you before. But it was only reasonable given the fact that he was in heat.
He never knew the feeling of being milked from both ends, but now when he came, he ruined his whole expensive suit. The edges of the mustard yellow shirt becoming translucent with his milk, with a dark spot on his pants between his legs. He let out a shaky breath, apologizing as he slowly came back to his senses.
“What are you apologizing for? I started it,” you said as you hopped off the countertop. “Let me know if you ever need more help, Nanami-san.” A wink from is what caused his cheeks to turn red. “I'll bring you spare clothes from your desk.”
𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
Most lactation in men started in their early twenties. Although, it wasn't unusual for some to start late. There was nothing medically wrong with them. But you've heard things about. How much more it hurts, and how more they leak on their first heat if they do get late.
You've been dating your boyfriend Choso for almost a year now. He hadn't start lactating yet, which is why you researched enough on this topic just in case. Personally, you've never been physical with men when they're in heat. Not because it is not your thing, but your relationships were too short to actually be comfortable in experiencing it. Of course, you would never do anything with Choso at his displeasure just because you wanna try it. You love him too much. But the thought would never leave your mind. What would he act like in his heat? Well, it was your lucky day. Because you came home to a whining lactating man.
“Cho…baby, are you okay?” You rushed to him in concern. Choso was on the bed, hair down with tears in his eyes as he pressed his chest together.
“Babyyy, It hurts. I don't know what is happening.” His hold on your wrist a little too tight. “Fuck. It hurts so bad. Make it stop. Leaking too much and my cock hurts too.” You could hear—feel the desperation in his voice. His cock was on full display as his boxers dangled near his ankles. The swollen tip shining with pre-cum seducing your mouth. But your mouth was needed more elsewhere. You remembered your first sex education class, how men in heat can be relieved if you milk and suck their tits. You discarded your clothes, getting bare and settling on his lap. Your hole rubbing against the body of his shaft as you pressed your tits against his, kissing his forehead.
“Cho shhh. Baby you're fine. You're just in heat. 's gonna be alright. 'm here, okay?” He sniffled as you pampered him. “Gonna take good care of my boyfie.” You left a trail of lipstick stains as you kissed his body, slowly trailing towards the puffy nipples. You looked up at him for consent, only to continue when he whispered a “please”. With your tongue darting out, you soaked in the view before licking a stripe.
“Shit,” Choso cursed. You do it a few more times until you're finally sucking on it like a popsicle. “Fuck. Ah!” It was indeed too much because with only fifteen seconds in, your mouth was already full of his milk, leaking from the corner of your lips. It wasn't a normal amount. But given the fact that it was his first, that too at this age, you brushed it off, focusing back to sucking. You gulped the milk, each sip making you dizzy. It made you grind harder against his cock, moaning along with him. His whimpers making you wet, and his dick enjoying your slippery pussy.
“Wanna cum. Please. Wanna cum, baby.” He begged and you started fastening your pace. The sheets were wet, along with your neck and tits as he shot spurts of sweet milk in your mouth that dripped down your body. Some of it sneaking its way down between his dick and your cunt. You held on to his shoulder, giving his chest a few slaps, making him rut harder against you that the bed started creaking.
“Cumming. Fuck, I am cumming. Ah! Ah! Ah! Ngh—holy fuuuuck!” Your own orgasming cunt could feel his dick twitch as it shot a load out. His hardened nipples turning soft. He immediately cupped your cheeks, pulling you up. “I love you so much, fuck. Thank you.” He said before he kissed you, his tongue lapping against yours, tasting himself on you.
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@kiffenisstupid @pastelle-rabbit @lxnarphase @teddybeartoji @rizzmin @yuta-nation @evxelisy @hellkaiserinphoenix @ffsg0jo @princessoflalaland @baekinola @chuuyasboots @cathybarn @togamest @katsukichu @blkkizzat
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ghostedeabha · 1 year ago
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imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose
okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."
thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
wc: 563
warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)
a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3
a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?
simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.
so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.
looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.
"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.
"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.
"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.
"i'm taken."
"i know." you replied with a short laugh.
"you should be touching me like that then."
it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.
"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"
"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.
"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.
sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.
"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.
you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.
"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.
"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.
simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."
you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.
you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.
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alastorss · 9 months ago
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brother i still have no idea how tumblr works and this is my first request and it might not even be in the right place but—
why does NO ONE talk about the fact that “Allie” would be such a silly nickname for Alastor? i would love to see some headcanons/a lil story about how he would react to the reader calling him that. maybe completely detests it at first but secretly likes it?
a/n: hello lovely, you've come to the right place 🫶 yes yes yes!!! i'm obsessed with this idea <3 i'm adding to this: he would think you're mad at him when you finally call him normally again ^ ^
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
"What did you say?"
"Huh?" You hum, attention devoted to fixing Alastor's bowtie.
"That thing you just said. Repeat it."
You finally blink at him, using your palms to smooth out the front of his jacket before stepping out of his bubble. "I said your tie was undone."
"No, dear, before that."
The Radio Demon can feel his eye twitching in irritation. You look at him again dumbly, trying to retrace your steps.
"Oh!" You flash him a little smile and he thinks his brain is going to explode. "Allie?"
He just gawks at you, surprised by the sheer audacity you have. And it doesn't help that he's so fond of you that he doesn't even want to strike you down.
Had it been someone else calling him so endearingly, he might have done something violent. But how could he do that to you, his darling companion, when you look so sweet calling him such a ridiculous name?
"My apologies but... where did that come from?"
"Isn't it cute?" You grin, completely dodging his question.
No, he wants to say. Absolutely not. However, your smile is ever-growing and he can't very well deny you this pleasure. So he sucks it up, draws in a deep inhale to compose himself, and nods.
"Of course, cher."
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Weeks pass and the rest of your friends in the hotel begin to raise a brow at how casually you address such a powerful Overlord. And more than that, he doesn't seem to want to correct you.
It becomes his name reserved exclusively for you. Angel had tried, once, to purr out Allie in a seductive way that made Alastor's skin crawl. Never again.
He gets used to it. Even likes the idea that there is something shared between you that no one else can have. That is, until you're pushing around your breakfast on a plate one morning.
"Can you pass the salt, Alastor?"
He looks up from his mug of coffee in confusion, brain taking a moment to buffer before it catches up with his already moving mouth.
"Alastor?" He repeats his own name, staring at you intensely and most definitely not passing the salt over the table.
You look back up at him blankly. "That's your name, don't wear it out."
He scoffs at your lame joke before sliding the salt shaker over the table. There's something unsettling him and he can't quite place it.
Setting down his newspaper, he watches you as you eat. His gaze is so fiery that you look up from your food almost instantly.
"What's wrong?"
"Are you alright? Have I done something to upset you?"
Your brows scrunch. "No, why?"
"Why did you not call me Allie?"
Complete and utter silence settles over the dining table until he feels like he can't breathe. Your spoonful of food hovers just in front of your open mouth as you stare.
Then, laughter. Laughter fills the room and his ears so heartily that he feels it in his own chest. You double over the table in your fit, spoon clinking onto the plate as you drop it.
"What?" He grumbles.
"Of course I'm not mad at you!" You howl, using a finger to wipe up the tears gathering in your eyes. "'Sides, I thought you hated that name?"
His jaw grows taut. "Hate is a powerful word."
"So you like it?"
"Absolutely not!"
"Liar, you do!"
Alastor is never one to get flustered, but here he is for the first time in his afterlife, teetering on the edge of bursting out in flames. "You are terrible, you know that?"
You snicker, leg getting trapped between his under the table. "Yeah, Allie, I know."
Yet the way his smile softens says it all.
~
taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc (send an ask to be added!)
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monstersflashlight · 2 months ago
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Okay, hear me out: Oviposition with your insect-morph or alien partner that can go either to a cnc/dubcon play space if you want, but like...reader slowly becomes addicted to being a broodmother. Bonus points if reader is a fembunny with strong breeding instinct? :3
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A/N: Hi there! This was hella fun to write, I though it would make more sense not to make reader a bunny hybrid but hope this meets all your expectations, I personally think turned out pretty good. (Also want to recommend this Stardew Valley fic because it’s the first time I read brood-mother kink and it def changed my perspective). Enjoy!
Brood-mother
Insect-monsters x fem!reader || oviposition, free use, heavy dub-con, breeding, brood-mother kink, aphrodisiacs
You walked into that cave without idea, without knowing what the fuck you were supposed to do there. When the wizard hired you for a special mission, going as far as looking specifically for you because apparently you had everything he needed, you didn’t argue much. He said some cryptic stuff as he gave you instructions to walk into the cave and look for something, he only said you’ll know when you found it, and you, silly you, accepted. It was good money, and it seemed simple enough, even if the wizard was creepy as fuck and you didn’t even know what you were looking for.
You had been walking in the cave for less than ten minutes when you felt something against your back, and you fell face down to the ground. You didn’t have time to turn around, didn’t have time to react before you felt some slimy substance around your hands and ankles. It was disgusting and you tried to get it off but you couldn’t move, the substance pinned you down to the ground. You were panicking, unable to move in any direction… and then you felt it. It was like tiny pokes against your back, against your legs, and buzzing sounds that made you shiver. What was that?
You turned your head to the side in time to see a bunch of crawling-insects running in your direction, you were about to scream when something was shoved inside your mouth. You didn’t know what it was, but it tasted amazing and you latched to it, sucking strongly to get more of that substance. The reaction was fast, your whole body getting hotter as you felt the first insects getting to your body.
The tore your clothes off, your body being stripped as you groaned and moaned against the weird thing in your mouth, unable to scream, unable to stop sucking that sweet nectar that was driving you slowly insane. You barely remembered the words of the wizard when they said you would be prepared and ready when they arrived. What seemed cryptic at the moment made total sense when you realized they were preparing you for them, they were making sure you were fertile and breedable for them.
They needed a queen… and they found you.
That was your last thought before you felt something akin to a cock was shoved into your pussy without preamble. It felt weird, ridged and harder than a human penis, but it rubbed against your walls in a way that made your head dizzy with pleasure as you got wetter and wetter. It didn’t take long before you felt the appendage parting inside of you, the side pressing against your G-spot, the tip probing at your cervix before something was inserted into your uterus. An egg. They were laying eggs inside of you. You wanted to run away, to scream… to care. But it felt so good. It felt too good and your brain wasn’t even yours anymore, you could only think of pleasure and breeding, of being full of them so you could be their queen. Their real queen.
That cock was pulled out and another took its place, thrusting into your body without mercy as you squirmed in pleasure, your pussy convulsing as you came around it. Another egg was pushed inside you. And another dick shoved inside your dripping pussy. An egg. A dick. An egg. A dick. It was an intoxicating circle that drove your brain and body into a frenzy.
You’d never felt something like that, being at the complete mercy of creatures you couldn’t even name was making you aroused, aroused to the point of juices pooling under your body. Maybe it was the aphrodisiac, but deep down you knew you were just perverted, and the fact that you were just a fuck-hole to breed for them… it made you hot. The idea that you will be pregnant with all their eggs… it made your clit tingle harder as another egg was pushed inside of you. It was intoxicating.
It continued for hours, they pumped you so full of eggs you felt about to explode, your stomach distended pushed your body into an awkward angle that only made your pussy more available for the next round. So many of them filled you, you lost count of how many eggs there could be inside of you. You came so many times you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore.
But then the buzzing stopped. “Shush little explorer, I’ve sent them away, they already did their job… They found the brood-mother,” the creepy voice of the wizard resonated inside your half asleep brain as you felt the slimy restrains disappear and he took your body, too tired to fight back.
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parfaitblogs · 2 months ago
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oh my lover 𝜗𝜚 s. reid x reader
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in which spencer reid undresses you for the first time. 
spencer reid x fem!reader. fluff/smut (18+ mdni). 0.8k words. established relationship. borderline body worshipping? actually he just loves you a lot. kind of soft dom!spencer but only if you squint. use of sweet girl and honey. 
a/n: i saw a textpost about this and thought it was wonderful beautiful incredible amazing. just a silly blurb because my motivation for writing has been almost nonexistent </3. enjoy my beautiful angels
spencer reid who didn't think he could meet somebody more nervous than him when it came to sexual intimacy, soon learning that he has fierce competition and that competition is you.
spencer reid who had to literally coax you into climbing onto his lap many moons ago because yes, he was kissing you, and you were close, but you weren't close enough and he had since discovered that he needs to feel every single inch of your body to be enjoying himself. 
spencer reid who was incredibly patient with you, allowing you to initiate quite literally every time you wanted to do something with him, for he was often in fear of pushing too many boundaries and screwing this all up. spencer reid who would ask before he made any moves, and you who had grown accustomed to quietly whispered phrases such as, 'can i kiss you, sweet girl?', and (more recently), 'do you want me to stop? no? okay, honey. i won't'. 
spencer reid who had you laying beneath him on the forest green sheets of his bed, kisses along your skin emitting the loveliest of whines and mewls from your lips, that had him borderline considering quitting every responsibility he had to focus on you. who was oh so hesitant about taking this any further, until you were so lost in a daze that you had subconsciously been pushing your shirt up your torso. spencer reid who had caught the sight, then your hand, stopping you from tugging it all the way off, an amused smile on his lips. 
spencer reid who murmured, 'can i take your shirt off?', and then laughed when you had feverishly nodded your head. who took his utmost of time with it, despite your complaints, pressing kisses up along the hot skin of your stomach with each inch the shirt uncovered. spencer reid who had to pause for a moment when he stared down at you, nowhere near fully naked but still so, so beautiful, to the point that his brain was malfunctioning. 
spencer reid who's fingers traced the outline of your bra, committing the image to memory the best he could despite the motor fry he was currently experiencing from the sight of you. who then took your bra off with so much ease, and began kissing the skin. again. who repeated every tiny ministration that tugged a moan from your throat, despite being something as small as an open-mouthed kiss on your ribcage. 
spencer reid who was trying to stay focussed on the task at hand (undressing you), but getting seemingly distracted by the way you arched your back when his lips had grazed oh so lightly over your nipples.
spencer reid who's fingers finally — finally — hooked under the waistband of your pants, kissing down your body once more, pulling them down your legs at the same time. spencer reid who looked up when he felt the air in the room shift, a layer of intensity coating the two of you, noting the almost worried expression on your face. 
who had asked, 'what's that look for?' and then been thoroughly confused when you expressed discomfort for him seeing you fully naked for the first time. who acknowledged that it was the first time anyone was seeing you naked, and it was a big deal, and he knew the feeling all too well. 
spencer reid who, instead of continuing straight away, lifted his head back to yours, kissing the tip of your nose and the corner of your mouth, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your hip bones, slowly. who murmured, 'i'm going to think you're incredibly beautiful no matter what, but i will only go as far as you're willing'. spencer reid who swallowed the protests you had on your tongue about that matter with a kiss, shushing you and enforcing a silent promise that you are as beautiful as he says you are.
spencer reid who took his sweet fucking time removing your underwear from your body, marvelling at the sight of you and forcing his heart rate to remain at a normal enough rate so he could enjoy you properly. who kissed you again, and again, and again, mumbling incoherently about how pretty you looked in between each one. spencer reid who shushed you again, a little less seriously, because you were now giggling that he had this big brain of expansive knowledge, and the only word he could come up with for you was pretty. 
but, regardless, spencer reid who made you feel so immensely loved the entire night, successfully taking his time to kiss and admire each and every crevice of your body, until you were thoroughly exhausted, but pleasantly fulfilled. 
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
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targaryenluvs · 10 months ago
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— SHARING IS CARING
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pairings: clarisse la rue x aphrodite!daughter!reader, luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter!reader
summary: the whole camp believes you to be sunshine personified, everyones bestfriend. and being absolutely stunning as well as off limits unless they want your girlfriend breaking every bone in their body. but it seems a certain friend of yours can’t help his feelings for you, and your girlfriend?
warnings: i’ve gone mental, fluff, threatening, violence, protective clarisse, kinda naive reader ngl, luke is lovesick and is confused about his feelings, not proof read
a/n: basically the two of them agreeing to be with you and now you have attack dogs <3
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if there was one thing everybody at camp half-blood could agree on, it was that they all loved you. even if they acted differently, the idea of hating you was practically foreign.
for as long as you could remember, even if it’d only been two years, you’d been there, it’d been your home. and for as long as you could remember, you’d been best friends with luke castellan. he was unbelievably helpful when you first arrived, shy and sweet but overtime you opened up to him.
of course you were nice to everybody, but to your friends you were on a whole other level. almost motherly in a sense, always concerned for their well-being, their health and them over all. luke was no exception, if anything, you cared for him the most. but that was before clarisse came along.
even if luke wouldn’t admit it, he liked the attention. for once someone was caring for him, going out of their way to help him. you were always right there when he needed you, and he’d gotten used to being by your side. whether at breakfast in the morning, or by the creek at night the two of you went out of your way to be together.
and over your time together he not only began to feel protective over you but also something else. it creeped up on him, yes, but it wasn’t all that surprising with you being the daughter of aphrodite.
he found himself wondering if you felt the same for him, or if you were indifferent. with developing feelings came changes of attitude, he found himself annoyed. not at you of course, never at you, but at himself. he felt as if he had a real friend, someone he trusted truly yet it was as if his own body was sabotaging him with feelings. he didn’t want it to change, your relationship, not wanting to risk what you had.
but then late at night he’d find himself daydreaming.
holding your hand when walking together, cutting up your pancakes for you, securing your armour himself, sitting closer to you by the campfire, your sweet eyes looking up at him everyday, filled with even more love than usual. maybe even staring down other campers, who for some reason, had the silly thought that they could make a pass at you.
he’d overheard one of the new girls talking about her own crush on a girl. luke hadn’t meant to, of course, but he was currently sitting on the shore, cleaning off his muddy helmet. she rambled on about the girl she liked, how she walked and talked, how she smiled, how she daydreamed. he felt his throat tighten at the words, it was as if his own crush was being described.
then, she began to talk about a certain daydream she loved having, the fight scenario. in which her crush was training and perhaps losing, the other person being a bit too harsh to the point where she herself had to step in and save her girl.
the idea of being a saviour.
he thought it was stupid, his head was telling him so. but his heart thought differently and he secretly agreed. the idea of saving you, your hands clinging onto his arms for safety, teary eyes and rows of praise and thanks from you. fucks sake, he wanted it.
he wanted you.
but again, your time together, and his plans to be with you were cut short, a certain ares girl beating him to the punch.
the irony was not lost on luke at all. the first time you’d gotten a sliver of niceness from clarisse was when the two of you were walking together from the strawberry fields, having picked a fresh bundle on account of mr d randomly asking for them.
“is there such a thing as strawberry alcohol? is he going to try and have someone make it for him?” you joked as the two of you made your trek to the big house. “maybe he’ll eat them and pretend their alcohol-infused grapes.” luke laughed as your eyebrows scrunched together, “you can do that?”
the two of you continued on, sneaking a few strawberries here and there, of which mr d had sworn he’d be able to tell if any were missing. jake lockly, a new boy, was hot on your tail. he was brash and arrogant, handsome yes, but his personality was more than enough to send a girl running. and he had his eyes set on you, the girl everyone seemed to love. he viewed you as nothing more than a challenge, you viewed him as a creep, “hey y/n. you’re looking good today.” jake whistled, a cat call.
now, you were nice, yes, but gods he made it hard. so you figured the best way to react was to not speak at all, a thumbs up was all the acknowledgment you were willing to give and not what he was willing to receive.
“don’t be like that, i know you wanna talk to me.”
his voice was closer this time having picked up his pace. “it’s obvious she doesn’t want to talk to you, and it’s pathetic that you keep trying.” luke was so close to dropping the basket, and dropping him. “oh yeah, pretty boy? why don’t you go pick some more strawberries.”
you frowned at the comment, pondering the meaning of it, “i picked strawberries, what’s wrong with that?” jake flashed a toothy grin your way, “nothing princess, keep walking, leave this to the men.” his hand grazed your back.
and jake ended up with his face in the floor, courtesy of clarisse, “touch her again and i’ll break every bone in your body.” jake clutched onto his abdomen as clarisse laughed, and so did luke. “at least you didn’t kill him.” luke chuckled, “is he okay?” your shoulders drooped looking at his crumpled body. “who cares? come on mr d is waiting.” luke grabbed your hand and gently led you along, unaware of clarisse following along.
she nabbed a strawberry from your basket as you gasped, “come on!” she didn’t respond, rather grinning before eating it. “how’s your day been?” you smiled at her niceness, “stuck with luke all day.” his eyebrows furrowed, “it’s never a bad day with me. don’t lie.”
and after that you found yourself running into clarisse more often, training together, even if it was more so her beating the shit out of someone, and you watching. you ended up being around her so often that your body quite literally gravitated to her. whether at breakfast or in lessons, the two of you were always hanging out. so it wasn’t a surprise to you when she asked you out, and you were more than happy to agree.
the only people that found it surprising, was every other person around.
obviously, during the early stages, you’d heard the whispers and seen the stares directed your way, but clarisse had shut them down pretty easily. a kid ended up puking into the same toilet bowl they’d been dunked into, a tamer version being someone’s matress torn apart, and a few not super serious injuries.
not life threatening.
but at the end of the day, all you could care about was her. her smile that was only really directed at you, the jewellery she obtained by suspicious circumstances, the sweet words and kisses were all you could ever ask for.
besides her, you also cared about him.
you’d felt as if the two of you had grown apart in the few months you’d been with clarisse, not necessarily either one of your choices, nor faults, but it was upsetting. even when you tried your hardest to seek him out around camp, it seemed he was always surrounded by people, teaching, leading, or just, not there.
you’d known him long enough to know he was evading.
luke hated it, how he felt. the idea of not being able to control himself, and how he acted was unbelievably annoying to him. not having you by his side, all the time, had him realising how often you were around him, he’d grown to rely on you. your presence, support, your face, friendship, gorgeous smile.
yeah, there were a lot of things he liked about you. he thought he only felt that way for you, but the weirdest combination of people seemed to double them. seeing you and clarisse around was common now, but the longing wasn’t.
you’d talked about your strained relationship over a million times to clarisse, and quite frankly she’d had enough, of course she didn’t mind listening to you talk but it was honestly driving her crazy. which is how she’d ended up with luke, in the middle of the night, sitting across from eachother, talking about you.
“she’s my girlfriend.”
“she was my bestfriend first.”
“so why didn’t you make a move?”
“i didn’t want to mess up our friendship. she… she’s my best friend, i didn’t want to drive her away.” clarisse leaned back on the bench, hands supporting her body, “so what now? you continue ignoring y/n, making her absolutely miserable since her bestfriend won’t even talk to her. or you tell her, and you guys aren’t friends anymore.” luke scoffed, “what makes you think we wouldn’t be friends anymore?” clarisse leaned forwards again, “well she wouldn’t have anything to say back to you, she’s with me.”
“well she would’ve been with me if i’d confessed.”
“but you didn’t, who’s fault is that luke? you were too scared to ask her out, and that’s not on me. talk to her, let her know, and we’ll see what happens.” clarisse rose from the table, but a thought in her head pulled her back. she turned back to see luke sitting at the table, even more gorgeous than usual, annoyingly so, the moonlight was a paid actress.
luke looked up and met clarisse’s eye, “what if.. what happens if she has feelings for both of us, now, at the same time?” she grinned, “you’re not an ugly face luke, i wouldn’t mind.” there were few times luke castellan didn’t know what to say, but he sat staring, feeling warmth arise in his face.
maybe they could come to terms with this, work something out amongst all of you. he swore you liked him back, when you were friends and single, and even now that you weren’t. the longing gazes you sent his way, the shy waves, as if on thin ice, testing the waters. why settle for one gorgeous girl, when you could have two?
after all, sharing is caring.
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lovelivision · 3 months ago
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GREEDY FOR MORE!
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 【𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞】 fushiguro toji/reader, geto suguru/reader, gojo satoru/reader, kamo choso/reader
𝐖𝐂: 3.4k
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: pussy drunk and so obsessed they're behaving downright greedily, just how will you fare against them when they're not thinking sensibly?
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, clit slapping (once), needy and desperate boys, pussy drunk boys, biting/marking, creampie, p in v sex, afab!reader, no pronouns or y/n used, i think that's all !! <3
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𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 ★
It’s hot, the room is hot, Toji is hot, you’re hot, it’s hot and you can barely think. His huffed breaths warm against your neck, his hips relentless, hammering into you with reckless abandon, so far gone and still in pursuit of more.
Making such a mess, the combination of your shared previous orgasms drooling from your cunt with every thrust he makes. Lewd slapping sounds filling the room with the force of his every movement, ravenous and unwilling to stop.
Panting against your skin, hands pushing your legs down, folding you under him, moving you how he pleases, how he needs, “Doing so good – hah – for me, messy little thing.”
“I can’t keep going, Toji – mmph – it’s too much,” your eyes burning with tears, the overstimulation becoming too much for you, so fucked full that it’s beginning to make your head spin.
“Don’t be silly,” he nips at your neck before licking at the length of it, “Of course you can keep going…” pulling back to look you in the eyes and oh, he looks so utterly fucked, dumb and happy look in his eyes, “‘Cause I’m not fucking done yet.” Punctuating the end of his sentence with a harsh slam of his hips.
He’s not pulling out yet, not when you’re so soft and warm, creamy pussy pulsing around him, sucking him in so divinely, how could he finish now when he’s this obsessed with your sweet, little cunt.
Your tears only spurring him on, loving how wrecked you look, dick twitching at your small sobs and whines, so overwhelmed by your own pleasure. Leaning in to kiss you hotly, deeply, tongue licking into your mouth, moans shared in it, each sound he swallows down.
Never stopping his hips, pelvis hitting your clit with every re-entry, your mind foggy, hands clawing at his back, hoping it gives you some kind of reprieve. Legs starting to burn with how they’re thrown over his shoulders, too far gone to really register it.
Hands moving to tug at his hair, pulling him back by it, lips connected by a string of spit, snapping when he licks his lower lip. You’re not even sure if he’s all there anymore, eyes glazed and lidded, pace faltering when he looks you in the eyes.
His head dips to watch how he fucks into you, groaning aloud at how messy it is, how obscene it is. Balls pulling tight at how your cunt has him coated in white, “God, I’m gonna fucking die,” words rushed and mumbled, speeding his hips up, barely pulling out before fucking back in, “Gotta keep going – hah – can’t stop, don’t wanna – hnnn – stop, don’t make me stop, please.”
His gaze never leaving your cunt, something deeply possessive bubbling inside him at how your pussy bulges around his cock. He doesn’t want to stop, never wants to stop fucking you, breaths rushed and nearly panting like a damn dog. You’re doing so good for him, always so good, almost too good.
Your grip pulls his head up to look at you again, his eyes wet, skin flushed so pink, biting into his lower lip, so desperate to keep going. “Last one,” you condition.
“So cruel…” he groans pathetically, one of his own hands reaching out and holding the side of your face, “Fine.” His thumb wiping at one of your tears, “Better make it count then, huh?”
Eyes growing wide at his words, confused by what he means before understanding suddenly and all at once. Somehow, his thrusts harsher, controlled, angled specifically to hit against the one spot that has you going fucking insane.
Crying from how good it feels, too good, nails clawing down his arms, breath stuttered and rushed, shocked by his force, left struck dumber than him at it. His lazy smirk, drunk and proud, eyes nearly rolling back at how tightly you’re suddenly gripping him.
Already so close for him, not even with it enough to be embarrassed over it, though, you’ve both been far gone for a while now, how you can even still huff out pleas is beyond you. “Too mu– ah ah, too much, Toji– please, slo–”
“If you can – hnnn – still talk – hah – then I’m not doing –hnnn – it right,” he bites out, concrete in his sentiments.
Manoeuvring your legs down, pressing into the back of your knees, leaning back. Almost falling apart at the sight of you spread so open for him, so beyond wrecked, so soft, God, he might not pull out, might try and convince you to let him keep going, he might beg for it.
Pistoning down into you, “Just one more, right?”
“Mhm,” you nod.
“Let’s see how long I can hold out for then,” he smiles large and languid. Evil in his intent, sure, it will be his last orgasm but that doesn’t mean it will be soon.
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 ★
Chest sweaty against his, pressed to him, his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight. Sat in his lap, his hips fucking up into you, his cum leaking back down onto him from your overstuffed pussy.
You’re limp on him, however many orgasms deep, having lost count a long time ago, Geto keeps making you cum, over and over and over–
Obsessed with how it feels, how it feels when you cum around him, cunt gripping him so tightly, sucking him in deeper. Needing to feel it, loving it too much, hungry for more. Bordering on feral for it, losing his ability to consider his next moves, only really driving his hips up over and over, hoping he’s driving you as crazy as you’re driving him.
Your plush walls tight around his throbbing cock, his hands spread your ass cheeks to fuck himself in deeper, eyes nearly rolling back at it. Nuzzling his head into your neck, panting his moans against your skin, teeth nipping at you.
Your hands thread shakily through his hair, tugging his head back, “Sugu– I can’t– you need to – hah – slow down.”
“Don’t wanna,” he bites back, head tipped back, eyes hazy and fucked as he looks at you, “Feels too good – hnnn – so good,” mouth gasping for air when your hand tugs harshly at his hair.
Eyes teary when you plead, “Can’t take anymore – mmph – it’s too–”
“It’s fine, you’re fine, you–” hips stuttering when you grip him tighter at the sound of his wrecked voice, his moans cutting himself off, “Fuuck– always take it so well.”
Suddenly, your world is spinning, dizzy as he manoeuvres you both so he’s on top of you, heavy cock barely leaving you before he’s stuffing you full again. Pace wild and quicker, forcing all the air out of your lungs with it.
Legs kicking at the delicious sting of overstimulation, his pelvis smacking into your clit with every angled thrust. Wrapping your limbs around him to hold on for dear life, his large hands on your waist, tugging you back and forth, fucking you like a toy.
In all honesty, Geto feels like he might fucking pass out, head foggy and fucked out but needing to feel more of you, all of you. Your small whimpers and pleads fall on deaf ears, he’s not listening, not when you’re sucking him back in before he even really gets a chance to pull out.
Growing impossibly tighter around him, his groans breathless, hips struggling to continue fucking you at the pace he wants. “You’re gonna – oh fuck – you’re gonna cum again, can fuckinn feel it,” words pushed out through his teeth, shivers running down his back.
Your eyes are screwed shut, “I don’t – hnnn – know if I can – ah!”
“You can and you are,” he chuckles humourlessly at how pathetic you sound, so utterly ruined, “Poor thing – hnnn – so fucking wet, so sloppy, making a fucking mess everywhere and this cunt is still creaming for more – ah fuck.”
You’re cumming around him violently, pussy spasming around him, hips struggling to move away from it all but it’s of no use, Geto is holding you firmly, still fucking you through it. Mouth hung open and eyes rolled back while he dances on cloud nine, fucking delighted by how hard you’re cumming for him.
Barely even slowing his pace before ramming into you again with a renewed vigour, your body wracked and shaking with your aftershocks. Everything feels like jelly, your limbs, mind, everything, cheeks wet and stained with your tears and drool.
“Pick a number,” he grunts roughly, tone shaky even to his ears.
You huff against him, hands scrabbling for purchase on his back, your own barely even on the bed, nearly all your weight being supported by his hands, words slurred as you manage to struggle out a small, “W–what?”
“Pick a – hnn – fucking number, now.”
Sobbing out a confused, “Three?”
You can hear the grin in his tone, incredibly excited, “Alright, three more – fuck – three more orgasms from you.”
Eyes widening in shock, shaking your head against him, trying to pull away, “No no no, I can’t– I can’t, Sugu.”
He licks cruelly at your cheeks, collecting the tears that had stained them, “‘Course you can,” he huffs out through his nose, amused, “You picked the number after all.”
Not letting you argue against him, lips on yours, suffocating any words you had for him, tongue licking at your own. You can’t breathe against him; he’s not pulling back for air enough. When he does pull back, he’s ecstatic at just how fucked you look, pressing a soft peck to your lips.
“Three more, you can do it – hah – always so good for me,” he praises, still completely unwilling to pull out, he needs to feel it, your cunt snug around him, pulsing as you cover him in fresh slick, he fucking needs it.
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ★
Face stuffed into the plush bedding below, Gojo fucking into you from behind, his cock coated in your combined orgasms, completely obscene and depraved. His eyes locked on where he’s stuffing you full, fucking hypnotised by the sight.
Free hand gripping at your ass cheek, pulling you open just to get a better view, his knees knocking yours open more, your back arching for him even more. It’d be downright embarrassing how exposed and obedient you were being… if you were even capable of a singular coherent thought.
“So good– holy fuck,” laughing breathlessly at how your cunt spasms around him at the sounds of his voice, “I’m dying before I pull out, can’t– oh!” Hips stuttering and words dying on his tongue when he catches how your pussy drools onto the bedsheets below, his and your cum both leaking from you in thick globs.
He’s not leaving any time soon, obsessed with the view, with how it feels, lewd in how wet and sticky everything is. Not sure when the next time you’re going to let him fuck you like this will be and incredibly unwilling to end this experience.
Wearing a large smile on his face, eyes bright and filled with a fucked kind of delight, his body leaning down over yours to speak into your ear, “I bet,” he licks at the tip of your ear before nipping it, voice low when he continues, “You’re getting close again,” he tuts against you, “So greedy.”
“‘Toru, I–” cut off abruptly by the swift smack he delivers to your clit, jolting your body forward, choked whine leaving you with it. Your pussy seizing against your will, cumming just like he knew you would, if his amused laughs are anything to go by.
“Ohh fuck! That’s it– holy shit –hnnn–” His words are spoken over a smile, completely wrecked but also completely excited over it.
His dick twitching wildly with how tight you grip him, cumming from how much slicker and tighter you get, dumping his cum deep inside you, barely even stopping his thrusts. Just stuffing your overfilled pussy, leaning back to stare at your poor cunt bulging around him.
Biting his lip to hold back all his own ruined noises, hoping to keep the illusion of control when he’s all to aware of how completely pussy drunk he is. If you threatened to stop him now, he might actually cry, whipped and desperate to keep fucking into you.
Pulling out only to watch the way his cum gushes out of you, eyes sparkling at it, hand leaving the back of your neck so he can use the both of them to pull you open, your cunt jumping and hips trying to wiggle away from him.
“No no nonono, you’re not going anywhere,” guiding himself back to your hole, shoving himself inside, bottoming out quickly, “Nooo, we’re not done, fuck– never be done.”
So quick to resume fucking you like a madman, his hands gripping and pulling at you everywhere, obsessively worshipping your body in the most depraved manner he’s capable of.
Leaning in again just to bite at your shoulders and neck, leaving marks everywhere he can possibly reach. Relishing in the way you twitch and whine for him, truly feeling the most debilitating need to keep fucking you.
Desperately rutting into you, eyes glazed over and lost, head heavy as he leans into you, hands tugging you back against him by your hips. “Feels too good– fuck, what the fuck– hah–” Just about losing his mind over how good it feels.
Your small and wrecked voice calls for him, spit drooling from the corner of your mouth, “You need to – ah! ah! – ‘Toru, it’s too much!”
“Shhh, no no, please don’t – hah –” Pulling back just to pull you up with him, cock never leaving your tight heat, his chest to your back, hands roaming the front of your body, “Don’t say that, not enough– never be enough–”
His fingers moving down your body to rub messy circles into your clit, the sudden stimulation almost knocking you over, only held up by Gojo’s hand on your chest. Loud whimpers pulled from your chest, feeling completely limp against him, eyes wet and crying.
“More, I need more, more more.” He’s practically begging you to cum again, mouth right by your ear, “You can give me more, right? Please pleasepleaseplease.” Pathetic in how he’s asking.
“I– I dunno ‘Toru,” you whinge, words slurred.
“I think you can,” fingers speeding up on your clit, wicked and fucked out smile on his face at how your eyes roll back in your head, mouth dropping open.
You’d fold in on yourself completely if Gojo wasn’t still holding you up, your orgasm rocking through your body, hips caught between trying to get away from him and fucking back onto his cock.
He’s going insane, fucking you through it and holding you tightly so you can’t get away, needing to keep going, keep feeling how you pulse and cream all over him, he could swear he’d die if he doesn’t.
Fingers not letting up, still dancing over your clit, the overstimulation too much, whines leaving you, trying to tell him it’s too much, that’s it feels too good, that it hurts. He’s too preoccupied, though, completely aware of what he’s doing, just hoping to get another orgasm out of you before you pass out.
Succeeding in his endeavours, large, diabolical smile breaking out across his face at how he pulls another orgasm out of you so soon after the other, “That’s it– fuck– that’s it, so good, sooo good.”
Shaking your head against him, telling him no more, to which, he thankfully pulls his fingers away from your poor abused clit. His thrusts don’t stop though, obsessively driving forwards, letting you flop back into the mattress just to lay his weight over the top of you, pressed close. Cock twitching inside you, sensitive and still aching for so much more, voice cracking in his desperation, “Jus’ a lil’ more, hmm?”
𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 ★
This was just meant to be you riding him, something for him to enjoy, something for you to knock his socks off with but it’s quickly devolved into him holding your body flat to his, his hips rutting desperately up into you, his arms around you using you to fuck you back and forth onto his aching cock.
Fucking orgasm after delicious orgasm out of the both of you, though yours are just a consequence of his relentless fucking, not really aiming to fuck you properly, hips just mindlessly chasing his own pleasure.
“Sorry, m’sorry, ‘m so sorry,” he mumbles over and over, feeling bad for taking away your control but needing to use you to fuck himself how he pleases.
You felt too wet, too tight, too hot wrapped so snugly around him, your pace wasn’t fast enough, he wasn’t hitting deep enough, he just needed so much more, he needed to fuck you until he’s blind. He needed to be able to hold your body tight and fuck himself stupid, he’ll let you ride him next time, he promises.
“Cho– I– it’s okay,” you manage to force out, drooling into the corner of his neck, completely dumb on his dick.
“I’ll let you – hnnn – fuck me properly next time – hah – I promise,” pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder, a complete opposition to how he’s fucking you so meanly.
Hands moving down your body to your ass, gripping you, forcing you up and down in time with his thrusts. Moans leaving him in a choked manner, trying to hold back and failing miserably, sounding so pathetic even to himself but not really caring, not when your cunt only drips more for him, grips him tighter.
His abs tense and squeeze, it all feels too good, too much, and he’s hooked, completely drunk and desperate for more. So fucking desperate it’s embarrassing, eyes wet and glassy, like he might shed tears just from how good it all feels.
Grip tight on your soft skin, places that will hurt tomorrow, his hands hoping to ground himself but only driving him wilder at just how unbelievably soft you are, skin delicate, his nails probably puncturing into it, leaving crescent shapes behind.
His cock so hard it hurts, twitching and throbbing inside you, you can feel it, the tempo of it. The thought alone dizzying, pulling at his hair, making him moan, his hips jump, “Need – hnnnn – need so much more, need it all, need to stuff you so full you can’t breathe,” he’s not sure if he’s making sense, words rushed and completely horny.
“Do it then – hah –” You’re goading him, giving him the permission, just to see what he does, to see how much more he can ruin himself and you along with him.
He rolls the both of you, the air leaving your lungs at the switch, his arm quick to hold your knee up and over his shoulder. Holding you open in an obscene display, his dick back inside you so fast you don’t even have time to think about it.
“Sorry, m’sorry, sorry – hah – but,” his brow is creased as he fucks into you, head dipping to see how fucked full you are, his cock opening you up lewdly, his chest stuttering at the sight, messy and creamy, “I need it– fuck– I need it so bad,” his voice pitched and pathetic.
Every time he thrusts into you, his pelvis grinds into your clit, your pussy jumping and eyes almost rolling every time, your hips trying to meet his. His hand forces your hips down, “Just– stay fuckin still,” determined to make you cum, “Let me do this – hnnnn – let me fuck you how I like.”
His words have you shuddering, the most feral you’ve ever see him, not usually so demanding, usually allowing you to do as you please in bed. His eyes are dark though, needing something from you that you can’t give but he can certainly take.
The glazed over and fucked out look in his eyes has you breathless and his insistent thrusts have you cumming in a similar breathless manner, only able to smack at his chest lightly to try and warn him, words not forming.
Choso whines at how you cream on him, at just how much messier it all gets, how much slicker. Not slowing his thrusts though, fucking back into you at the same pace, pushing down on your stomach though, to watch all of his cum still inside you leak back out around him. Sinful in nature, having his eyes rolling into his head, cumming just from that.
Cumming inside you deeply, balls heavy and cock twitching as he pumps rope after rope of his cum inside you, leaning down to rest his forehead on yours, pressing kisses to your tear-stained cheeks.
“M’sorry,” he mumbles, you’re not sure why until you realise, he’s not stopped, hips slowed to a small rock but not stopping. “Need more.”
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𝐀/𝐍: i miiight have gotten carried away with Gojo's but in my defense....... i got nothing, he's just been on my mind a lot lately ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ thanks for reading and i hope you liked it !!
[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of unheavenlyvision
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ghost-with-a-teacup · 1 year ago
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐈)
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader
Summary: After you reveal the truth of what your relationship really was between you and Miguel, everyone's keen on learning more. So what better way to give a little more insight than a dinner at your shared home?
Warnings: None~ Just back again with silly shenanigans and the softest of fluff :3
A/N: Hello, everyone! After the first part of 'What's In Between' blew up (you can read it here, thank you so much by the way, you're all so sweet), many people have asked for a part two, so here it is! Enjoy <3
The moment you break the news to them, the volume of the table booms to a fever pitch as everyone begins talking at the same time.
“W-WHAT?!”
“Married? No way,” Hobie says.
“How long have you been together?” Pavitr asks.
“I can’t say I saw this coming…” Miles says, eyes widening in surprise.
Miguel had been watching you the moment you snuck up on the group, but with the newfound panic from everyone he couldn’t help but make his way over to the commotion.
“You’re all being loud, what are you yelling about now?” Miguel asks, walking over and standing by your side.
“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL US YOU WERE MARRIED?!” Gwen shouts.
“You never asked,” he blinks, “and also, it’s none of your business.”
“Miguel, as your best friend I am deeply offended that you haven’t told me after this long, does our friendship mean nothing to you?” Peter says, hand on his chest in pretend hurt.
“You are not my best friend,” Miguel deadpans.
“After I opened up to you no less, I mean, you were the first person I told about Mayday! All the details-” he continues, ignoring the comment.
“Not by choice,” he mutters.
“Does no one know about this?? At all???” Pavitr asks, “I mean, you two are married.”
“I mean, Jess knows about it,” you gesture, and she only grins.
“And now all of you do too,” Miguel sighs. “Vida mía, I thought we talked about this,” he admonishes.
“Oh, c’mon, it was cute how they were all trying to figure it out for so long. I was starting to feel bad,” you say, smoothing your hair back. He only stares at you for a moment before sighing.
“Fine,” he relents, “Can’t do anything about it now anyway.” He smiles softly at you, and the group watches in awe as their cold leader softens in your presence, but his gaze quickly grows dark as he turns back to the group.
“One word of this to anyone outside of this group,” he says with a pointed finger before trailing off, allowing everyone to fill in the blanks as to what he might do.
Everyone’s faces pale like a sheet at the unnamed threat (well, except for Hobie, he only watches with blatant amusement on his face), but you only laugh.
“Miguel, don’t threaten the kids,” you giggle. “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,” you whisper to them with a wink.
“Hey, that’s what I say!” Peter says.
“You are his best friend after all,” you grin.
“I have never said those words a day in my life,” he scoffs, but you ignore him, eyes lighting up with an idea.
“Oh! I have a lovely idea, how about you all swing by our place for dinner later? We never have guests,” you suggest.
Gwen gasps, “Really?”
“This…maybe doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Miles says as he shrinks down in his seat at Miguel’s glare towards you.
“I have plans tonight…though I don’t think they’d mind if I cancel,” Hobie says nonchalantly, but everyone knew there was no way in hell he’d miss something like this.
“What am I, cat litter?” Jess asks. She was the only person to have been at your shared home, having joined around the same time as you, and being one of the few people Miguel fully trusts.
“You know it's not like that, Jess,” you turn to her with a grin.
“Absolutely not, it's already a liability that they know querida, now you want them traipsing into our home?” Miguel argues, and you narrow your eyes at him, never one to back down from a fight. While it got on his nerves, it's what he loved about you too. He needed someone that wouldn’t take his shit.
“Miguel,” you say, giving him a look. “All our enemies are literally in alternate universes who, aside from those small tears, have no way to go cross-dimensional, let alone find us in the expanse of a universe. Besides, I think it would be nice,” you say, and Mayday seems to agree since she climbs right up into your arms, babbling happily.
“And don’t think I don’t know you have a soft spot for this lil ragtag team,” you smile, bouncing up and down as Mayday laughs.
He huffs, “I am anything but soft, especially for them. They never listen, don’t follow protocol, are immature, and the list goes on.”
“He’s lying,” you whisper, covering your mouth from his direction as though that would stop him from happening. Mayday grabs your hand though, playing with your fingers happily. “See how his ears are turning red?”
At that, his ears turn more red and the group tries to stifle their snickers to no avail.
“Querida,” he warns. “Do you feel the need to share anything else about me? Or have you had enough,” he asks, poking your shoulder. You place a hand on his bicep with a gentle smile, and his expression softens much to his dismay.
“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you grin. “Alright, it’s settled then! You’re all coming over tonight.”
~
You hummed softly to yourself as you moved around the kitchen, preparing the food for dinnertime when everyone would be coming over.
Then, you feel the hair rise on the back of your neck as a familiar presence makes himself known, strong arms wrapping around your waist as his head rests on top of yours.
“Vida mía, the food smells good,” he says softly before sighing. “But I’m not very happy with you today.”
You let out a sigh of your own as you turn off the stove before turning around in his arms to face him.
“Miguel, my love,” you say, smoothing out the collar of the pullover he wore before looking up at him. “I know you well, don’t I?”
“More than anyone,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting the tiniest amount as he presses a kiss to your forehead.
“Then it’s safe to assume that you’ve been wanting to hang out with more people in the Society apart from work-related things?” you ask, placing your hand on his chest.
“I can’t afford anything like that in this line of work, you know that querida,” he sighs, that familiar hardened look in his eyes for a moment.
“Miguel, your only friends can’t be me, Lyla and Jess,” you pout.
“Vida mía, you are my wife,” he says.
“Yes, and it's miracle enough that I was able to grow close enough to you to get to that point,” you chuckle, “so my existence in your life is proof itself that you are capable of growing close to people. I’ve seen you, I think you’re ready and deep down I know you don’t always want to be perceived as the cold and unfeeling leader of the Society. Why not start with them?”
“That’s not a decision for you to make,” he says, glancing away from you.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” you apologize, feeling a bit guilty that you threw Miguel into this without warning. “I should have spoken to you about it first but who knows. Maybe this is a good thing, opening your heart a little more,” you explain. “Don’t think I realize you’re the hardest on them because you believe in them,” you smile.
He huffs before pausing to think for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder when you snuck your little way into my head, querida.”
“Admit it, you’re growing soft,” you giggle softly.
“Never,” he counters, tickling your side which makes you scrunch up your face as you laugh breathlessly.
“OKAY! Okay, you’re one soft fluffy teddy bear, happy?” you say which only makes him continue with even more fervour.
“That is the most ridiculous thing I think I have ever heard you say, querida,” he snorts but finally relents.
“Yeah….I can’t even say that with a serious face,” you chuckle. “But you do have your moments, tough guy,” you smile, leaning up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he rolls his eyes. That’s when the doorbell rings, and immediately your eyes light up.
“Oh! They’re here!!” you say excitedly, escaping from his grasp as you move to open up the door.
“Here we go,” he murmurs to himself, and you turn to face him.
“What was that?” you ask.
“Nothing, vida mía,” he replies, and you narrow your eyes in disbelief.
“Behave, Miguel,” you tell him.
“Wouldn’t dream of anything else,” he replies, and you grin before opening up the front door.
There, you find Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Peter (alongside Mayday of course), Hobie and Jess all standing outside, chatting amongst themselves before turning to you.
Miles almost looks like he’s in disbelief like he couldn’t really believe this was your home quite yet.
“Hi!” Gwen starts.
“Took you lot long enough,” Hobie says. “Was starting to think we'd have to build a fire and cook it ourselves.” Gwen punches his shoulder, to which he lets out a little “Ow!”
“Sorry about him,” Gwen apologizes.
You just find yourself laughing at it all though.
“No apologies needed, we were a little preoccupied. Come on in, make yourself at home,” you say, opening the door a little wider for them to make their way through.
“Not too at home though,” you hear Miguel say, leaning into the foyer from the living room, arms crossed over his chest.
“Ignore him,” you say, giving him a pointed look to which he just stares at you blankly. “Dinner will be ready soon, I just have to set the table and we can eat, alright?”
“It smells delicious,” Pavitr says, “I’m starving.”
Mayday seems to agree as she crawls up from the baby carrier onto Peter’s head, making grabby hands from the top.
“Someone’s hungry,” Peter chuckles. “Got anything she can eat?”
“I have a few things, don’t worry,” you smile.
“It really does smell really good though, but it always does,” Jess adds.
“It’s nothing special,” you say sheepishly. “Just some of Miguel’s favourites.”
You guide them all into the living room. “Settle in! I’ll be done in a snap,” you say.
As you make your way back to the kitchen (with Jess joining you to help out), back in the living room the squad of spiders settle in almost hesitantly, a watchful eye monitoring all of their reactions.
No one dares say anything, only sitting around nervously.
“So…nice weather we’re having,” Peter says, trying to lighten the mood but even Mayday gives him a deadpanned expression.
Miguel sighs. “You’re all acting like there’s a ticking time bomb waiting for you to speak before setting off,” he says, still leaning up against the doorway.
“We don’t know, mate. Is there?” Hobie jokes, but Miles’ face drops anyway.
“There isn’t, for the record. I can be harsh but I’m not evil,” Miguel scoffs before making eye contact with Pavitr who looks like he wanted to ask something but was holding back.
“One question,” he says simply with a nod.
“How long have you two been together?”
“…a little over 4 years now,” he replies.
“How did you meet?” Gwen asks.
“I said one question,” he says before your voice cuts in.
“My universe was one of the first he visited! He hated me back then, though,” you laugh as you walk back in. “Speaking of which!! I have some things you might all want to see after dinner,” you grin mischievously.
“I thought you said I was the one that had to behave, mi corazón,” Miguel says, a warning tone in his voice.
“And I am, aren’t I?” you say, poking his side playfully. “Anyway, dinner’s ready,” you say, leading them to the dining room. “I know it's not much but-”
“How in the hell is this not much??” Hobie exclaims, and you just shrug. “You should see dinner with my family, then you will think that it’s not much,” you say with a chuckle.
On the table sat a wide expanse of food, all of Miguel’s favourites from Mexico. Empanadas as the appetizer, alongside pozole, ceviche, enchiladas, and chicken with mole poblano all served with a side of rice, beans, or homemade corn tortillas depending on each person’s preference.
You can see Miguel’s eyes visibly brighten as he looks at the food, settling in at the head of the table with you by his side.
“Come eat!” As you say that, everyone sits down before beginning to eat, everyone heading straight to what appealed to them the most.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Miles says, eyes closed in bliss.
“Oye, don’t let your Mother hear that, kid,” Miguel says, but the corner of his lip was upturned in the tiniest of smiles. The most he would allow himself around this many people.
“Thank you, Miles,” you smile.
“This, uhh, how do you say it again? Poh-zuhl?” Gwen asks, and you laugh out loud as she turns pink, meanwhile both Miguel and Miles cringe slightly.
“I’m sorry for laughing, sweetheart. You’re almost there; it’s pronounced like ‘poh-zoh-lay’,” you say kindly.
“Ohh, okay gotcha. Pozole. It’s really good! Feels…comforting, almost,” she says.
“Yes,” you say, glancing at your husband with a soft smile, “it’s Miguel’s favourite. Says it ‘tastes like home’.” A chorus of ‘awws’ go around the table, while Miguel only holds the bridge of his nose with a sigh.
“Alright, alright. Enough with the cheesy stuff, let’s get back to eating, yeah?” Hobie says before shoving his fork back into his mouth.
~
Once dinner was finished (and after both Miles and Gwen insisted that they did the dishes despite much argument from you), everyone was settled again in the living room laughing and talking together, and while Miguel only said a few things here and there and sat by your side like a lost puppy, he did seem to be enjoying himself.
“Alright! Now, before everyone goes back home, I have one more thing I’d like to show you,” you say once it quiets down a bit. Standing up, you make your way over to a large bookshelf you and Miguel had built together when you first moved in together.
“I’ve gotten tired of having only myself to show these photos to, so this is the perfect opportunity,” you smile.
“Querida-” Miguel says, holding out a hand to block your way but you look at him with pleading eyes, and he can’t do anything but relent. He couldn’t say no when you looked at him like that.
With a triumphant ‘haha!’ you grab a photo album labelled with a date and a single word; ‘Ours’.
Everyone crowds around as you place it down on the coffee table, and you open it up to the first page.
Gwen is the one that gasps first, eyes wide with awe.
“You both look so beautiful,” she says softly.
There, front and centre was a photo of you and Miguel on your wedding day. You were smiling wide at the camera, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand while Miguel only looked at you with an expression so in awe it was as though you painted the stars in the sky.
“You clean up nicely, big man,” Hobie comments, and Pavitr nods.
“Weddings, my favourite,” Jess says, a fond expression on her face as she thinks back to her own husband.
“I had a bird fly into my face at my wedding…but they are nice,” Peter says, rocking Mayday gently as she naps away after the hearty dinner even despite the commotion.
You continue to flip through the photobook, pausing periodically for a little anecdote about each one. Miguel had long stood up to make room for everyone else, but he looked at you in the same way he did on your wedding day.
Like you were the light of his life, the one good thing he had amongst the millions of universes parallel to his own. Like you were his everything.
~
“Admit it, you like them,” you smile, the house finally quiet after everyone headed home. He only rolls his eyes before pulling you into his lap, his face going into the crook of your neck as he holds you close.
“There is a big difference between ‘liking’ and ‘tolerating’, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing circles into your hip soothingly.
“Yeah, yeah, tough guy. Whatever you say,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and settling into his touch with a happy sigh.
You both sit there for a moment in silence, the two of you weren’t ones to fill silence with mindless chatter. If words needn’t be said then they weren’t.
“That was…nice, though,” he admits softly after a little while.
“I know,” you whisper.
~
~
~
“That won’t happen again for a long while though,” he says, pulling away to look at you, crimson eyes pleading with you wordlessly.
You can’t do anything but laugh.
Taglist (for those who requested a part two): @lotustv @mars-ifuknowmeirlplsgoaway @elliewilliamsactualgf @randomhumans-blog @iluvkonig @phillygraves @gothgirlziez
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moonstruckme · 5 months ago
Note
I absolutely adore your roommate James series! It’s so tender and soft and sweet and it feels like the literary version of a hug 😭 you nail it every time!
Thank you sweetness!!! I am giving you a hug actually <3
cw: threatening with a weapon
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.2k words
Things have come to a point where James needs to admit to himself that he likes you as more than a friend. 
The problem is, he likes you as a friend so much. He’s no stranger to the dilemma of risking a friendship for something more, but he’s not a teenager anymore and you’re not Lily. James knows he wouldn’t be able to play it off as a silly, harmless crush with you. And, really, he wouldn’t want to. You bully your way into his thoughts all day long. Your sweet voice, the way you talk with your eyes, tiny moments like the way your lips parted when he’d first slipped and called you sweetheart. You’d schooled your expression into teasing exasperation almost immediately, but there had been a softening in your eyes that made him impatient to do it again.
If he told you all that, James would probably come home to find all your things gone. You can barely handle it when he tells you you look nice. He doesn’t want to lose you. 
So, against his wishes and all his instincts and proclivities, he’s going to let it lie. James wants to be your friend more than he wants to discover what else you could be together. He can love you this way, too. 
That doesn’t do anything to deaden the thrill that goes up his spine when he picks up his phone and hears your voice on the other end, though.
“James?” 
“Y/n?” He checks the number on his phone. It’s not in his contacts. 
“Yeah. Um, are you—are you busy?” There’s a wobble in your voice. James’ heart drops straight down to his stomach. 
“I’m not,” he says, stopping short of the field where his teammates are gathering and turning back towards his car. “Is everything alright?” 
“Yeah.” It’s clearly not, but he was silly to ask. Of course you’d say that. “I just, if you’re free, I was wondering if you could maybe pick me up?” 
That wobble hasn’t gone from your voice. James’ heart trembles in solidarity. 
He gets back in his car, starting the ignition with perhaps a tad too much force. “I’m on my way,” he promises. “Where are you, what’s wrong?” 
“I’m outside the Waterstones on Manor Road, you know where that is?” 
“I know the one, yeah.” 
Your voice sounds held together by fragments. “I’m sorry, it’s far.” 
“Don’t be sorry,” he says, then regrets it instantly. This is hardly the time for a good-natured scolding. He turns out of the parking lot. “I’m coming. What’s wrong?” 
“I’ve—I’ve had my phone and wallet taken. I don’t have my key to the apartment.” 
“Taken?” James’ head buzzes like a TV turned to the wrong channel. “By who?” 
“A man, I—I don’t know. Um, I’m borrowing this woman’s phone, and I think I should give it back.”
His lungs feel small, panic choking him. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Be safe, yeah?”  
“Yeah.” A breath crackles through the phone. James wonders if you’d been choking, too. “Thanks, James.” 
“Just be safe.” 
The sun has dipped below most buildings by the time he gets there. It makes it difficult to see you, but James’ eyes work like a compass, finding your shadowy form curled up on the curb. The bookstore looks to be closed or close to it, no patrons walking by you as you sit with your knees bent close to your chest. 
You see his car pull up, and he’s halfway to you before you’re even standing. Your arms come around James as readily as his around you, your face squished willingly into the fabric of his workout shirt. Your breath seems to stutter out of you. 
“It’s okay,” he says, grasping the back of your head. He’s not sure if he’s talking to you, or himself, or either of you. He’ll tell whoever will listen. “You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s alright.” 
“Sorry,” you squeak. “I don’t know why I’m crying now.” 
“You’re okay,” James says again, just for good measure. His lips find the top of your head. “What happened?” 
“I think I was mugged,” you laugh. It comes out warped, completely unlike the sound he’s spent months chasing after. “This guy showed me a knife, and told me to hand him my bag and phone, and I just gave them to him. It was right out in the open.” Another jagged, heart-aching laugh. “I feel so stupid.” 
“Why would someone else mugging you make you stupid?” James lets you go enough to give you a little space, but his arms stay around you, his hand rubbing firmly over your shoulder blade. “Did you call the police?” 
You gnaw on your lower lip. It already looks bitten to shreds. “No.” 
He nods, taking a breath. James isn’t typically the responsible one in his relationships. He’s not good at knowing what to do. It makes him think of being thirteen and seeing Sirius all bruised and broken, feeling his heart break and knowing that he had to fix things despite the both of them being too young to have any clue how to deal with something so huge. James is an adult now, but he still feels too young. 
“Do you want to go home?” he asks you. 
You bite down hard on your lip, but your eyes gloss anyway. “Yeah,” you say, voice breaking. 
James pulls you close and gives in to treating you the way he wants to, kisses pressed into your hairline and tender words pouring from his lips. He gets you into the car and takes you home. 
Throughout the rest of the evening, you’re at once more reticent and more talkative than you’ve ever been. You’ll stare into the distance for minutes at a time, but then you’ll speak up, seemingly randomly, about some small fact you’d forgotten or a thought that’s been pushing at your consciousness. You tell him that you don’t think you could describe the man well enough to the police. That you have no concept of how long you stood around before you thought to ask for someone else’s phone. That you sort of wish you’d refused to hand yours over, because really what was the worst that could have happened?
“Well, he could have stabbed you,” James says.
“Yeah, but how often is that really fatal? And he might not have. It’s embarrassing, all he had to do was show me the knife and I turned everything over. I probably would have been fine.” 
“I don’t think you’re automatically fine if you’re not dead, angel. You were still at risk of being stabbed.” 
“I’d still have my phone and everything, though.” 
“I think you’re worth a bit more than that stuff.” 
“Mm, agree to disagree.” 
James does things he doesn’t particularly want to do—phoning your bank, filing a police report online, texting your landlord about a new set of keys—and several things he really does want to do. Once you’ve changed into your cozy clothes he practically swaddles you in blankets, putting a hot chocolate in your hand and that show you’re always watching on the TV. He makes you dinner, teases you until he gets a real smile, puts your mum’s number in his phone and texts her to let her know you’re okay. James touches you amply, lips on your cheek and hand smoothing the hair from your face and one knee pressing into your leg through the blanket. 
And you let him. 
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thinkinonsense · 2 months ago
Text
TALK, TALK₊˚⊹ ʚɞ
logan howlett x mutant!reader
cw: fluff, sweet logan
a/n: inspired by the charli xcx song<3 everything in spanish and french is from google translate so if it's incorrect, that why.
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you were no stranger to crushes. they always showed up out of the blue; you couldn't help it. all it took was one glance, a smile, a bit of small talk, anything really. none of this changed when he entered your life.
maybe cupid had struck you in the ass at some point.
for weeks, everyone in the mansion knew where your feelings had floated. normally, you try not to develop any crushes on the people you see daily but this guy was different. even sort of dangerous; the thrill excited you.
"you don't understand, storm." you groan, helping her train downstairs. "there's just something about him. i can't explain it."
your dear friend laughs, swinging at the boxing bag again. "i'm not saying not to go after him... just be careful is all."
"well, there's nothing to worry about because he hasn't even talked to me." a small sigh escapes you.
"he hasn't talked to you?" she questions. you shake your head. "that's odd. i wonder why not?"
"well, he keeps to himself." you shrug, thinking of excuses besides the fact that he likely doesn't share the same feelings you do.
"hm... have you tried talking to him?"
"nooo." you giggle nervously. "absolutely not! you know how i get when i actually have to talk to people i have crushes on."
"i know." storm joins in on your laughter. "it's like someone set you on top of a stove; you just start melting."
"it all comes out like, 'blah, blah, blah'."
"you never know, maybe he speaks 'blah, blah, blah' too."
little did storm know that her words would linger around in your head every time you see him.
₊˚⊹ ʚɞ
obliviousness was not a trait logan had. he noticed everything; whether he liked it or not. in this case, he didn't mind noticing everything about you.
it started when he saw a shadow following him to the cafeteria, down the hall, and to the training room. he tried to be polite and ignore it; too afraid to scare you off entirely.
a couple days after your talk with storm, charles sent the older mutants out on a mission. this included storm, scott, logan, and yourself. upon the return, all of the older mutants gathered in the kitchen to unwind. you, storm, and kurt sat together at the table. the two of them bickered back and forth about something silly that happened during the mission.
it wasn't fair how good logan looked during the mission. the tight black spandex did wonders for his form. it felt like some high school crush. butterfly's always in your stomach when he looks at you.
on the other side of the room, logan sat in a wooden chair next to hank, with a cigar dangling from his lips. it must've felt like you were burning holes into the side of his head. even storm had to nudge you to look away from him, telling you to stop giving him 'heart eyes'.
"think someone's got a crush on you, pal." hank teases logan. "heard she's been waiting for you to talk to her."
you looked pretty, sitting at the table with a slight red stain on the inside of your lips, matching the flush of red on your cheeks when you notice him catching you staring. logan couldn't think of anything that compare to the ethereal sight before him.
₊˚⊹ ʚɞ
the glass of red wine on your hand was now empty, allowing you to excuse yourself from their conversation for a moment. at the counter, you pour yourself another glass; finishing off the bottle. when you turn to toss the bottle in the trash, you bump into someone.
"s-sorry." you squeal before realizing that it was logan that you bumped into.
"no need to apologize." he assures.
one of logan's big wide palms places itself on your waist, helping keep you upright. all of the wine flooded your mind, unable to form a proper sentence.
"dios mío, eres tan hermoso." you ramble drunkenly shooting stars from your eyes.
*oh my god, you're so gorgeous.
logan couldn't be more confused by your suddenly language switch but he found it awfully amusing. it wasn't a total surprise, he knew you were incredibly intelligent. charles always sang your praises. if you were even a little bit sober right now, you would be mortified.
"whatcha' thinking about, sweetheart?" he smirks, loving how flustered you became.
little did you know, the 200 year old mutant has definitely picked up on some different languages over his lifetime. to logan it didn't even matter whether or not he understood what you meant, he just wanted you to keep talking.
"je veux embrasser ton joli visage." your tongue runs over your bottom lip.
*wanna kiss your pretty face.
"hm... tell me more." logan purrs into your ear. completely forgetting about everyone else in the room.
"he estado enamorado de ti durante meses, ¿sabes?"
*i've had a crush on you for months, you know?
"je pense à toi tous les jours." you step closer, drunk with confidence. "pendant les entraînements, en mission, seule au lit... tout le temps."
*i think about you everyday. during training, on missions, alone in bed... all the time.
"such a smart girl, aren't 'cha, honey?" he groans softly at your words.
it took everything in logan not to kiss you right here, right now. he wanted you to remember the first time he kissed you.
"je veux être ta copine, logan." you whisper in his ear.
*wanna be your girl, logan.
"¿puedes guardar mi secreto?"
*can you keep my secret?
he never wanted you to stop talking; loving every word that falls from your foreign lips.
it wasn't long until storm, pulls you away hoping she caught you before you said anything you would regret. logan didn't mind, too excited to see you in the morning.
₊˚⊹ ʚɞ
when you woke up, your head was pounding. nothing worse than a wine hangover. you couldn't remember anything after jean poured you a third glass of wine. you took two aspirins and laid in bed for an extra hour before you finally made it downstairs for breakfast.
logan smelled your lavender scented shampoo the second you stepped out of your room. he had been downstairs waiting for you. everyone had already started their day, off either teaching or training. not him though, he had different plans for his day.
"morning." logan said to you as you walked into the kitchen. your heart fluttered, he could hear it.
"good morning." you reply meekly as you grab a plate and some utensils.
he sips on his plain black coffee while you place two waffles and some fruit onto your plate. theres a small stack of books next to logan on the table but you don't give it a second glance.
"wanna sit?" he asks you.
this was a completely different side of logan compared to the usually grumpy version of him that everyone sees.
"sure."
"did you have fun last night?"
he needed to test the waters on what you remember. by the late arrival to breakfast, logan's guess was not much.
"would you believe me if i said that i can't remember much?" you giggle nervously as you bite into a strawberry. "i was probably being boring in some corner."
you couldn't have been more wrong, logan thinks to himself. the two of you have some small talk for a while, enjoying each others company. this wasn't helping your crush from spreading.
once you cleared your plate and logan finished his coffee, both of you get up to place your dishes into the sink when you noticed the books in logan's hands. one spine read 'beginners guide to french' and the other read 'spanish for dummies'.
in a flash, everything came hurtling back at you full speed. this wasn't yours and logan's first conversation alone together.
"¿Qué pasa cariño?" logan asks, voice filled with desire as he cages you against the sink. his lips ghosted over your own; tempting you beyond your strengths. "je pensais que tu voulais que je te parle ?"
*what's wrong, sweetheart?
*i thought you wanted me to talk to you?
"et merde." you whisper before pulling on the collar of his flannel, smashing his lips into yours.
*fuck it.
the sheer taste of the other drove both of you insane. the mix of logan's coffee and tobacco contrasting with your sweet syrup and fruity taste was intoxicating. you pull back, needing to catch your breath. logan's lips moved south, sucking a dark purple bruise on your pulse point.
"better than i imaged." logan groans, obsessed with your every being.
"imagine si tu m'avais parlé plus tôt ?" you wink down at him.
*imagine if you had talked to me sooner?
logan chuckles, bending to pick you up. "love that mouth of yours, sweetheart. lets see what other languages it speaks."
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xxkissesforchanniexx · 6 months ago
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𝐁𝐫𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐝𝐞
Pairing: Chan x Lee Know little sister!fem!reader (non-idol au) Genre: Fluff + Smut angst kinda >.>(im bad at writing it forgive me...) Word Count: 8.6k (HOLY SHIT THATS THE LONGEST ONE YET) Warnings: mutual pining, mentions of cheating, protective Minho, underage drinking if you pay close attention, fighting >.> <.< DONT DO IT, unprotected sex pullout method >.>, cringe ending as usual. i think thats everything?
A/N: I genuinely started tweaking writing this uh requests are open until like august. this request is old... so... im sorry i only just got to it ;-; I'm also so sorry if the story is >.>... cringe T_T my brain has been like fried eggs lately.
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The first time Chan agreed to go to Minho's house, he was in his sophomore year of high school, when Minho had mentioned he had a sister, Chan hadn't thought much of it.
Until Chan saw you; the pretty, sweet (to him at least), smart 8th grader that was Minho's little sister.
You had poked your head into Minho's room, "Bro have you seen my hair rollers?"
Chan looked up at you from his book.
Minho looked at you and made a face. "I don't know where you put that stuff."
"Minho!" You threw the door open and frowned at him. "You borrowed them!"
"WHY WOULD I BORROW THOSE???"
"I DON'T FUCK-" You paused, eyes flicking to Chan.
Minho smiled evilly. "I'm telling mom!"
"MIN!" You shouted, "OH!" You stomped your foot for a moment before huffing. You took long strides to Minho's bedside table and grabbed his wallet.
"Where are you going!?" He shouted as you went back to the door.
"Buy more hair rollers." You said, slamming the door behind you.
Chan looked at his book and cleared his throat trying to disguise his laugh. You were cute, just a little bit.
Minho looked at his friend before his eyes narrowed. "Hey."
Chan looked at him, "Huh?"
"Chan... You're my guy. My best friend." Minho got up from his bed and smiled genuinely at him, "For the sake of our friendship, don't..."
Chan raised a brow. "Don't what?"
Minho made a face. "Chan."
Chan laughed. "Minho. I couldn't. Be for real. She's your sister. I'll be with her and be constantly reminded of you." He shuddered.
"Haha." Minho punched him. "Promise?"
"How old are we?" Chan raised a brow.
Minho looked serious.
Chan sighed. "I promise."
Yet... he couldn't keep that promise. Not while you were so busy being you.
You pulled into your parents' driveway. You had just finished your sophmore year of college, you checked your phone and messaged Minho saying you were home and to open the door.
You waited for a few minutes, scrolling on instagram before checking to see if Minho had read your message. It was still on delivered..
You sighed and called his phone. It rang and rang, but he didn't answer. "MINHO!" You made a face and finally decided to check your brother's location.
He was an hour away. At the mall.
You were about to call him again when he called you first.
"Oh, you're home already?" he asked, munching on something.
"Yes." You exhaled. "Why aren't you here to let me in?!"
"HEY HEY HEY!" He said, "Someone is there."
"Who?" You fianlly got out of your car and grabbed your bag from the trunk, dragging it to the front door.
"Chan."
You made a face and rang the doorbell. "Yada yada."
"Hey, respect me. I'm older than you!" Minho huffed.
"Ah hush." You rang the bell again. "Is that weirdo friend of yours even here-"
The door opened and you looked at the man standing there, his hair was unruly and he looked like he just woke up. You looked him up and down for a moment- he looked different, older, more muscular, the tank top wasn't helping much, you could see the outline of his pecs. "Chan?"
"AH I told you he'd open the door-" Minho started but you hung up the phone.
The muscular man crossed his arms. "Do I know you?"
"Uh- I live here?" Your brows furrowed.
"The only women I know live here is Minho's mother and a silly 11th grader I haven't seen in years." Chan sighed, "Minho doesn't take squatters. He already has 3."
"Bang Christopher Chan." Your eyes narrowed. "Did you just call my babies SQUATTERS????"
Chan's mouth fell open. "Y/n-"
"I'm telling Minho!" You pushed into the house and Chan trailed behind you.
"Let me carry that bag for you-"
"No, no, no!" You swatted his hand away. "You think my babies are squatters." You huffed and ran to your elder brother's cat, Soonie, that happened to be looking around the corner.
Chan rolled his eyes and you picked it up and started baby talking to it. "It's a cat-"
"You speak fluent baby to Berry. Don't judge me." You walked with the cat up the stairs to your room.
Chan sighed deeply.
"Chan, bring my bag upstairs thanks." You smiled sweetly and skipped back up the stairs with the cat.
Chan tongued the inside of his mouth a bit annoyed, you hadn't changed one bit. You just looked more mature. More like a woman, the curve of your waist more defined to your hips, you seemed prettier, your- … What are you thinking...
Chan pursed his lips and grabbed your bag, taking it up stairs.
He watched as you entered your room.
"Did Minho touch any of my stuff?" You asked looking around.
"Not that I know of." Chan hummed setting the bag on the bed.
You turned and gasped. "MY GUDETAMA PLUSH IS GONE!"
Chan tilted his head. "Your what?"
You fumed. "MY EGG PLUSHIE!"
Chan's face fell. "The one that was over there-" He pointed to your desk.
Your eyes narrowed. "Bang Christopher Chan. Where is my egg-"
"HERE!" Minho shouted, sliding into your room, holding up a Gudetama plushie.
You looked at your older brother. "Minho. It's not even the same plushie."
Minho opened his mouth then closed it.
"MIN!"
"AHHH JISUNG DROPPED IT IN PAINT!"
"WHAT WERE YOU EVEN DOING IN MY ROOM??!?!"
"It was Changbin's idea!"
"OHH!! LEE MINHO! GET OUT!" You fumed.
Chan and Minho scurried away before Minho burst out laughing as he got to the bottom of the steps. Chan rolled his eyes and laughed.
"I'll give her the money to replace it later." Minho sighed, "Tryna get some drinks? Jisung is paying."
Chan nodded, grabbing his phone from the table and staring at your cat Dori. The brown, grey striped cat tilted its head at Chan and the man pet it gently. "Tell Y/N I'm sorry yeah?"
The cat purred and Chan smiled before following Minho out.
Chan finished off his alcohol and turned to Hyunjin, "Hyunjinnie."
The long, dark haired man looked at him, "Huh?"
"That egg thing Jisung covered in paint."
"What about it?" Hyunjin asked, pushing his hair out of his eyes.
"What was it called?"
Jisung looked up from his food. "Gudetama?"
"Yeah that." Chan hummed. "Where do I get one that looks like it? Exact replica.."
Hyunjin shrugged. "Google it."
Chan huffed, and started searching.
Minho looked at him, "Why are you wondering?"
Chan pursed his lips. "We did mess it up."
Minho grabbed Chan's phone. "Chan." His face was expression was blank.
"Minho, I'm just trying to replace it." Chan grabbed his phone back and sighed.
Hyunjin gave Minho a look and kept eating.
Minho didn't say anything to Chan until everyone was going home only saying "see ya."
It was over a week later you came home with your friend Sua to hang out and when you opened your bedroom door you smiled at the sight of the a new Gudetama plushie. The CORRECT one.
"Where did that come from?" Sua asked as she sat on your bed, grabbing your Cinnamoroll and hugging it.
"Minho probably got it." You grabbed the egg and admired it except as you brought it to your face and inhaled, past the scent of the store... you smelled the cologne it smelled like... You pulled Gudetama away from your face and stared at it for a long moment.
"What?" Sua asked.
"Nothing..." You murmured.
Sua took the Gudetama from you and inspected it. "It's definitely new.. it smells like the store but..." She smelled it again. "Who's cologne is that?"
You rolled your eyes and grabbed it back, hugging it. "Doesn't matter.." But as you thought about the way he'd looked at you when he opened the door, the way his muscles seemed to strain against his shirt as he crossed his arms... You shook your head. So what if he had grown up a little bit. So had Minho's other friends, it didn't matter.
Yet recognizing the faint scent that lingered on the plushie, the faint scent you'd picked up from him as you pushed past him, you hugged the plushie just a little bit tighter.
Chan spun in the spinning chair in the library. He looked up at the ceiling, brain racing with so many thoughts. Had you seen it? Had you liked it?
"Chan." Hyunjin flicked his forehead. "Did I write my part good?"
"Uh huh." Chan said dismissively.
"You seem lost in thought..." Jeongin said, rolling over in his chair. "Something on your mind?"
Someone.. "No, nothing." Chan shrugged.
Jeongin's eyes narrowed, "I think..."
Chan looked at him. "Wha-"
Jeongin grabbed Chan's laptop and ran off with it, "THE SECRETS ARE HERE!" He shouted, "PROTECT ME HYUNG!"
Hyunjin tried his best to hold Chan in his chair but the latter easily sprang away and sprinted after Jeongin.
"INNIE RUN AWAY!" Hyunjin squealed.
As Chan was about to pounce on the younger man, the library assistant, a young woman with dark hair and brown eyes with a small mole on her cheek, cleared her throat. As Chan got a better look he realized the woman was your friend, Sua.
"Please be quiet." She rolled her eyes before walking into the small room and pushing the chairs back into place, she sniffed slightly, as if sick and Hyunjin offered her a tissue which she gratefully accepted before leaving the room.
Chan grabbed his computer from Jeongin and sat back in his spinning chair. "There is no secret."
The younger men looked at each other, "Sure," Hyunjin said, "Totally," Jeongin huffed.
As Sua walked away she smiled to herself and looked back. So that's who got Gudetama...
You were out with Sua at the mall, "Y/N." She smiled, "This would look so good on you." She pushed a very short skirt into your hands.
"Are we going to a strip club??" You stared at your friend in shock. "Min will kill me if I wear this."
She nudged you, "You can't stay so single and innocent forever." Sua's eyebrows bounced comically. "But then again.." She pulled the skirt to herself. "Do you think Seungmin would like me in this?"
You rolled your eyes. "If Seungmin noticed you."
She shoved you. "MEANIE!"
You giggled and kept looking for clothes.
"Ok..." She sighed.
You turned to the jewelry area and left Sua looking at bottoms alone. As you looked at the earrings and necklaces and bracelets, a pair of earrings caught your attention, it was simple, small silver half hoop earrings. You moved down the glass to get a better look and as you rested your hand on the glass display, a hand brushed yours. You looked at the hand for a brief moment before seeing the veiny arm, your stomach flipped.
You looked at the man, he looked at you, brow raised.
"Sorry." You pulled away.
"It was my fault." The man laughed. "I was just looking at those earrings." he pointed to the earrings you had your eyes on.
"Oh-" You smiled slightly, "I was looking at those too."
His eyes widened slightly, "You probably saw them first-"
"No it's fine." You were about to move away.
"It's fine really." the man waved over the store clerk. "How much for these?"
Your brows furrowed. "I-"
"550,000 sir." The clerk said.
The man slid his card across the table and smiled at you. "It's the least I can do, I think I made you uncomfortable."
You opened your mouth then closed it. What was this guy doing..
"I'm Minseok." He put his hand out to shake yours.
You smiled sheepishly. "Y/N, and really you don't have to get me these-"
The store clerk came back with a key and opened the glass display, closing the earrings box and putting it in a bag. The clerk handed the bag to Minseok with his receipt and card.
"I insist."Minseok handed you the bag.
"Y/N, did you find someth-" Sua came over, carrying a lot of bags and looked at you then Minseok and back at you, a devious grin spread across her lips and you wanted to hide.
Minseok wrote something on the back of his receipt before handing it to you. "Call me?" He smiled and walked out of the store.
"WHO WAS THAT FINE GLASS OF WINE????" Sua grabbed you, "What did he give you?" She grabbed the bag and smiled at the earrings, "Oh my, a man of taste! What's his name-"
"SUA!" you grabbed your friend's face. "Stop rambling. He bumped into me."
"And bought you earrings for 550,000 won as an apology?"
You sucked in a breath.
"He was definitely into you." She smiled dreamily. "If only I could find Seungmin in such a way."
You rolled your eyes. "Let's go."
But you had ended up shooting Minseok a text... why not?
Chan came over with the guys to celebrate Minho getting a promotion. "Ah, look at the best dance instructor this city has ever seen." Chan hugged him tightly as he entered the house.
Minho rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."
"Congrats man." Jisung patted Minho on the back, "Now with the money you're making you can finally pay when we go out to eat."
Minho made a face.
"Stop annoying him," Jeongin smiled. "But really congrats."
Minho smiled, "Come on in guys," He led the men in and to the dining room, "Tada!"
The men smiled at the sight of the barbecue and they all began eating. Chan teased Minho most of the evening until, he heard steps on the stairs. He turned to look at the stairs and his heart skipped a beat.
You were coming down the steps with Sua, dressed up to go out, skirt that showed your perfect legs and a shirt that drew attention to your curves and cleavage.
You came to your older brother and gave him a quick hug, "Congrats Minho."
As you started to pull away he grabbed your hand. "Jacket?" He asked.
You held up your jacket.
"Phone?"
You held up your phone the yellow Gudetama case that Sua had bought you drew Chan's attention momentarily.
"Pepper spray?" Minho tilted his head.
You shook your purse a bit.
He smiled, "Have fun. Don't let a creep touch you."
"Yeah yeah." You followed Sua out.
"Where's she going?" Changbin asked, munching on his beef.
"Party." Minho shrugged.
"Bound to get attention dressed like that," Hyunjin sipped his soda, "Who's party?"
"Some guy from college apparently." Minho shrugged. "Sua's with her so she should be fine."
Chan's eyes narrowed, "Minho, you're letting her go to 'some guy's' party?"
Minho looked at him. "She'll call if something happens, besides she knows not to drink."
Chan sighed, "Alright."
The other men looked at them, but no one said anything.
After the little celebration Chan was driving home, it was almost 1 in the morning, he came to a red light in front of a bar and tapped his thumb on the wheel to the rhythm of the music. He glanced out at the bar and his brows furrowed. There was a girl who looked suspiciously like you, stumbling out.
Chan was about to ignore it when a man came out of the bar after the girl. He sighed, the cars at the cross section slowing down and just as he was about to drive he watched as the girl reached into her bag for something and pulled out a yellow case with lazy egg.
Chan pulled off to the side and got out of his car as the man grabbed your shoulder. You shoved him off in your drunk daze but he was persisting.
And right as he grabbed your wrist Chan grabbed his forearm. "Can't you see she doesn't like you?" Chan's eyes narrowed, "Get out of here before I beat the shit out of you."
The man stared at Chan for a moment. Chan gripped the man's arm tighter.
"Bitch." The man released you roughly and stormed off down the street.
"Chan-" You looked at him, about to speak.
"Get in the car." He said lowly.
You opened your mouth, then closed it as he tilted his had at you daring you to say something back. You walked to the car and he opened the door to let you, closing it a you entered before going to the driver's side and entering.
"Please don't tell Min." You said as he settled.
"Where's Sua?" Chan turned to you.
"She ran off with some guy.." You said quietly.
"Why didn't you leave then?"
"Who are you my dad?"
"Y/N."
You looked at your hands. "I didn't want to."
Chan hook hi head and tarted the car again, before pulling back onto the road, he was about to go back to your house as he scolded you when you suddenly covered your mouth.
Chan sucked in a breath. "Y/N no- Not in my car-" Chan pulled over by a tree and you jumped out of the car and ran to the tree.
He cringed as you vomited and stepped out of the car, carefully taking your hair into his hand and holding it out of the way until you were jut dry heaving.
"You good now?" He asked.
You nodded.
Chan got you back in the car and gave you water.
"Chan..." You said after taking a drink. "Don't tell Minho. Please."
"Ok, ok, I won't." He sighed.
"Don't wanna go home."
"You have to."
"CHANNIE!" You whined.
Chan turned so fast, his head could've spun off his shoulders. He blinked before turning back to the road. Chris. WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?
"If I go home, Minho will know I'm drunk and he'll tell our parents and I won't be allowed out again." You grabbed his arm. "Chan.."
Chan sucked in a breath. "Just this once."
You smiled and hugged his arm. Chan felt his face getting hot but kept driving back to his place.
Chan had really trusted you when you said you were fine, you vomited again, outside his apartment complex and this time it had gotten on your shirt. So when you had gotten into his apartment he forced you to the bathroom and gave you some of his clothes to wear.
You were lying on Chan's couch, half asleep while he got you food because you wouldn't stop asking.
Your phone rang.
Chan was about to grab it but he froze. What would Minho think...
You grabbed your phone and answered. "Hello... No... I'm at Sua's... Chan? No I haven't heard from him... No I didn't drink... No I didn't bring a guy with me to Sua's... Okay... Tell my babies I love them... Good night Min." You hung up the phone and looked at Chan. "All handled."
Chan turned to face you and his stomach did somersaults. You standing there in his shirt, his sweatpants, looking so...
You tilted your head. "Are you drunk too, Channie?" You hummed.
Chan shook his head. "Haha. Here eat."
You smiled and took the food, going back to the couch, munching. Chan closed himself in the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. He rubbed his hands over his face for a moment before tuning on the tap and splashing his face. "Christopher... It's Y/N." he told himself. "It's just Y/N.."
A knock on the bathroom door made Chan look up. He patted his face dry with the towel on the bar and opened the door.
You stood there, looking at him. "Are you okay?" You asked.
He nodded, "I'm just really tired."
"I'm sorry for bothering you." You muttered, "Thank you.."
Chan felt his heart flutter and he smiled gently. "It's okay. Sleep in my room 'kay? I'll take the couch."
"I can't.." You mumble.
Chan made a face, "Why?"
"I don't have Gudetama.."
Chan opened his mouth then closed it.
"It keeps me safe at night." You looked down and gripped the hem of your his shirt tightly in your hands.
What was Chan supposed to say... What could he say without sounding weird or mean..
"Stay with me?"
Chan broke out of his trance as he heard that. "What?"
"Stay with me.. Because I'm scared.. I won't tell Minho."
What could he have said....
"Alright."
You woke up, head pounding, in the softest bed you've ever been in, as you opened your eyes you winced as the sun entering through soft grey curtains assaulted your already pained brain. You felt a breath against your hair and were about to jump away when the scent hit you... You looked around momentarily, it must be really early.
It wouldn't hurt.. You relaxed against his chest and hugged the arm he had around your waist. He was warm. Infectiously so. You felt warm in more ways than one. You smiled contentedly and closed your eyes again. Minho didn't have to know.
When you woke up again you heard voices, you sat up and slowly got out of Chan's bed. Your head throbbed slightly but you ignored it out of curiosity, you poked your head out the door and listened.
"I'm screwed, Hyunjin..." Chan said softly.
"If you tell Minho I'm sure he won't be that mad." Hyunjin replied.
Mad why? Because Chan helped me?
"Hyunjin." Chan said, more firmly. "I promised."
"Chan, it's completely human to feel like tha-"
"Hyunjin-ah!" Chan said a bit loudly before quieting himself. "It's not that I feel like that, even when I'm not feeling like THAT, I feel like..." Chan sighed deeply.
You backed up into the room. Feel like what... You wondered before grabbing your phone and texting Sua to come pick you up with a change of clothes.
When you got in Sua's car you looked at her.
"Do I have a lot to tell you?" She said giddily.
"I don't want to hear about what you did last night-" You started.
"Not me you dummy! The guy you met at the mall."
You turned to face her completely. "What about him?"
"He followed me on instagram this morning, I think he was seriously into you. He wants you to call him so he can take you out." She raised her brows stupidly.
"I-" you closed your mouth and thought about it for a moment, what harm could there be in going on one date? "I'll give him a call later."
"Atta girl!" Sua squealed before turning on her car and pulling out of Chan's apartment complex, "But guess what?"
"What?" You raised a brow.
"I SAID GUESS!" She wined.
"Ok, ok..." You racked your brain for a moment. "You bought new shoes?"
As Sua came to an intersection she slowed to halt at the red light and smacked your arm. "No."
"OW!" You huffed. "Tell me."
"I got Seungmin's number!"
You blinked. "How?"
She smiled, "Well, as I was going home with that guy yesterday Seungmin happened to be around and saved me-"
"Didn't you ask that guy to go home with you thou-"
"HUSH I'm not done!" She huffed, turning back to the road as the light turned green. "And Seungmin saved me and told me not to go home with strangers and if I get drunk again with no ride, I should call him." She sighed dreamily before her expression snapped to one of confusion. "How did you end up in Chan's apartment?" Her eyes widened, "DID YOU GUYS-"
"NO!" You shrieked. "No, he kept his distance."
"And you slept alone? YOU?!"
You pursed your lips. "When I woke up he was in bed too bu-"
"BUTT NAKED?!"
"SUA! NO! WE WERE CLOTHED!" You felt your face getting hot.
"You were drunk, in a man's house and you didn't do anything?? Not even kiss?"
"No." You slapped your cheeks. "We didn't do anything."
"But.. did you want to?" She glanced at you before looking back at the road.
"No." You rolled your eyes. Then you remembered. How he'd looked at you in his apartment, like he wanted to pounce on you. "Bu-"
"Did he want to do something?" Sua drove into a café's parking lot.
"I..." Your face felt hotter as you remembered how Chan held you. "I don't know..."
That was all Sua needed to ramble about how Chan must be pining over you. And it was for that reason you didn't mention what you'd heard Chan telling Hyunjin that morning.
You'd called Minseok that evening, he insisted that you stay home and get past your hangover and that he could meet you another day. Though it wasn't intentional, you and Minseok spoke almost on the daily, before he asked you if you wanted to go out for lunch. You were about ready to go out when someone knocked on your bedroom door. You opened it and blinked at the sight of Chan.
He was looking at his phone for something. "Minho wanted to know when you'd be back so we could get dri-" He froze as he looked up at you.
"Chan?" You tilted your head slightly.
"Uh.. You look really pretty." He said.
You looked down and smiled slightly.
"Who are you even going to meet up with?"
You opened your mouth then closed it, no one knew about Minseok except Sua and Minho. "A guy."
Chan visibly stiffened. "Who?"
"I'll tell you about him later-" You tried to move past him but he blocked the doorway with his body.
"Where did you get those?" He pointed at your earrings.
My date.. "Sua." You lied.
He nodded. "Okay.."
You moved past him and managed to dodge your brother's inventory check as you skipped to the door. Right as the bell rang.
You opened it and smiled at Minseok. He smiled gently before his gaze flicked behind you.
You looked back at Chan and smiled.
Chan wanted to kill that guy. He didn't like him one bit, not the way he smiled or the way he took your hand to lead you out. Nothing. But more than that, Minseok always always looked at Chan as if he'd won something, as if Chan had lost the battle and the war he didn't even know had started. Two into your relationship and Minseok still had that look for Chan. Two months.
Minho had invited Minseok along with the guys for drinks. The entire night Minseok was giving Chan sideways looks. Until Minho asked, "How did you meet Y/N?"
"Oh," Minseok smiled fondly at his drink. "I bumped into her at the mall and I made her a bit uncomfortable with how awkward of an apology I gave so.. I bought her a pair of earrings and gave her my number. I didn't expect her to call back really... But fate is nice.."
Chan's brows furrowed. "What kind of earrings?"
"Silver ones-" Minseok started.
"Half hoops?" Chan pressed, gripping his bottle.
"Yeah." Minseok said, "Small, silver, half hoops."
Chan leaned back in his chair. You'd lied... You'd lied to him. For Minseok..
"Channie-hyung-" Jeongin reached for him.
Chan pushed back his chair and smiled at Minho, "I'm going to head back early," He waved at the other men and rested his gaze on Minseok for a brief moment.
"You're drunk, let me at least call you a cab-" Minho started.
"I want to walk."
"It's dar-"
"Goodnight guys." Chan turned and left them all at the table in confusion.
Hyunjin shot Seungmin a knowing look and kept drinking.
Chan wandered aimlessly for a while, lost in thought. He eventually found himself at a playground and sat down on a swing. As he swung back and forth, he thought about you and Minseok. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all..
He felt his eyes welling with tears. "What are you even crying about Chris?!" He groaned in frustration and wiped the tears from his eyes.
He cared too much, about you and Minho. He cared too much to see you with someone else. He cared so much that it hurt to care. Even as he took deep breaths to compose himself he couldn't stop the hot salty tears streaming down his cheeks.. But-
"Channie?"
He looked up at the sound of your voice. You stood there, in a sweater that definitely wasn't yours... It was probably Minseok's... and a pair of sweatpants.
"Why are you crying?" You sat in the swing next to him and stared at him.
If only you knew...
"I've just been thinking recently." He muttered.
"A penny for your thoughts?"
Chan stared at you for a long moment and then simply leaned over and rested his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder.
You stared blankly for a moment before relaxing and stroking his dark hair gently.
"Can I ask you something.." He muttered against your skin and you felt a chill go down your spine.
"Anything..." You breathed.
He pulled away and looked into your eyes. "Will you stop me?"
"From doing what?" You stared at him in confusion for a moment before he leaned into you, breath mingling with yours.
"This.." He muttered, plump lips grazing yours before they finally met your own in a gentle kiss. He pulled away for a moment, giving you the opportunity to shout at him, to slap him and ask if he was okay mentally.
But you didn't..
And he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue prodding at your lips for entry. You clutched Chan's shirt as his tongue slid into your mouth, the taste of alcohol still on his lips, but you didn't pull away. Not when he kissed you like that, kissed you like he'd been meaning to for months... years even. You didn't pull away even as you felt the burn of your lungs begging for air. But he pulled awa, his eyes dark, pupils blown, clouding over with something you hadn't seen before.
You sat up in bed and slapped your flushed cheeks. What on earth were you thinking...
Chan noticed you were steering clear of him like the plague. You were going back to school soon so maybe that's why. He saw you when he and Jeongin came over to see Minho but even then you only waved at him at the door and kept about your business. Maybe he had done wrong kissing you like that.
You were leaving again. Bags all packed and ready to go back to your dorm.
"AH!" Changbin hugged ypu tightly. "You're leaving us again! Who will come to Changbin Salon if you go!"
You giggled. "I'll be back in a few months for Christmas guys. Don't worry about me-"
"Y/nnie." Minho sighed, smoothing out her clothes, "Just take care of yourself. Don't get drunk. Don't stay up late. Don't talk to weirdos-"
You hugged your brother and rolled your eyes. "Whatever."
Your parents started bickering with you about taking care of yourself.
You gave Minseok a kiss and he hugged you tightly, whispering something in your ear that made you giggle.
You finally looked at Chan and smiled.
Chan smiled too, eyes widening in shock slightly as you hugged him tightly. He relaxed and hugged you back. "Take care."
You nodded, "Bye!" You got into your car right as Changbin and Minho finished throwing your stuff into the trunk.
They all waved as you pulled out of the driveway, and you were gone again...
Chan stuck around for a bit longer chatting with Minho and your parents before deciding to go home. As Chan made his way to his car he stopped as he heard someone.
"Chan."
Chan turned and stared at Minseok. "Huh?"
"Do yourself a favor," Minseok pulled out his own car keys and unlocked his vehicle. "And stay away from Y/N. 'Kay?"
Chan raised a brow. "Is there a problem with me being around her?"
"A little bird told me, you just want to get your dick wet. So I suggest you find someone else." Minseok shrugged.
He stared at the other man for a long moment. "What if... I just want to take her from you?"
Minseok's eyes went wide.
Chan unlocked his car and got in before Minseok could say anything.
You'd been in school for a couple of months, sure, you called Minseok everyday, it didn't kill the feeling of him being so far away though.
You had gotten back from class and were doing your homework when you got a text from Minseok. You smiled slightly and picked up your phone to look at it. As you read his message you rolled your eyes and called him
He answered almost immediately. "AH! Baby. It feels like I haven't talked to you in forever."
You rolled your eyes and giggled. "We talked this morning."
"Exactly, forever." He joked.
You put the phone on speaker and set it down as you started getting your materials for studying. "When did you get so needy?"
"When did you get so distant?" he countered.
You laughed. "I'll be around soon."
"Take your time with your studies.. I don't want to mess up your brain right now."
You smiled. "It's fine really."
"I'm gonna be really busy soon."
"Oh?" You flipped through your textbook, taking notes. "With what?"
"Work stuff." he said dismissively.
"Don't overwork yourself."
"Says you."
You pursed your lips and sighed. "Minseok."
"AAH! Okay.. I have to go now, sleep early. Make sure you eat. AND DRINK WATER." He said.
"Okay. Good night baby."
"Good night y/nnie."
You hung up and leaned back in your chair thoughtfully. You should visit home soon..
The next following day you called Minseok after class he didn't answer. You shrugged it off and assumed he was busy with work as he said he would be.
You called Jisung and he ranted to you about how Minho was being annoying and how Seungmin was bouncing off the walls about Sua.
You smiled as you thought about how vividly she used to squeal about Seungmin. As you were about to go to sleep, your phone rang and you looked at the contact, smiling at your boyfriends ID before answering.
"Hey love, sorry I didn't answer. I got held up at work." he said.
"It's fine," You rolled onto your back and put the phone on speaker, yawning as you asked, "Anything happen at home?"
"You sound tired." he aid, "And no."
You hummed. "I am tired."
"Sleep. You have classes tomorrow."
"Fuck class. I'd rather stay up listening to you."
"When did you get so needy?" He teased.
You giggled.
As you listened to Minseok rant about work and other things you relaxed and fell asleep even though you said you wouldn't..
You didn't notice it at first, but almost a month later, you realized that Minseok never answered your calls; he always called you back, and always very late. You could try to blame it on his work, but something just didn't sit right with you. But you ignored the feeling. Planning to visit during your break in the fall and catch up with everyone.
What reason did you not have to trust Minseok?
When you called him the day before your trip he didn't answer. Which didn't surprise you at all. But you still felt a small pang as you looked at the box you'd purchased just a week earlier. What was surprising was that he didn't call you back.
Still you got in your car the next morning, and drove all the way back home.
Minho and your parents greeted you with bear hugs and kisses.
You went out with Minho later that day to go eat and after an intense game of rock paper scissors, you had to go to the front and order. As you made your order and Minho's you noticed Chan sitting at a table with a very pretty woman. You finished your orders and approached waving slightly at Chan.
He looked at you and smiled. "You're back in town already? How's school?"
You laughed. "I'm on break. School's fine." You noticed the way the girl stirred her drink with her straw. "Who's this?" You asked.
Chan looked at her then back at you. "Yeojin. She's a friend."
The girl gave you a small smile but you felt a bit tense. As if you were challenging her... "It's nice to meet you." She extended her hand out out you."
"Likewise." You smiled and took her hand gently shaking it before turning back to Chan, "I've gotta go, maybe we'll see each other around?"
He nodded. "It was nice seeing you." As you walked away you noticed how he spoke to Yeojin so passionately, taking her hands in his. Your heart panged. You should be happy... You should be happy he finally got over what he told Hyunjin that day... Yet it annoyed you. It made you so mad you wanted to scream. But you didn't. You ignored the feeling. You had Minseok. What more could you need?
"Have you heard from Minseok?" You asked your brother as he spun in the spinning chair by your desk.
"Not recently why?" He looked at you.
You shrugged, looking at your phone. You checked Minho's location and saw he was still at work. You'd wait for him to get to his apartment then you'd surprise him with your gift and everything would be good. "He's been stressing about work recently... I just wanted to make sure he's alright."
"Go see him then." Minho said, rolling his eyes.
"When he gets back from work." You smiled, looking at the box in your bag.
So almost two hours later, when you checked your phone and saw he was finally home. You took a cab to his apartment and eagerly, pushed the button at the elevator. You jumped a bit before calming yourself. It was just Minseok... your sweet, caring, affectionate, handsome man.
Yet as you got to his floor, as you approached his door something in you twisted. You felt wary for a reason you couldn't explain. Even as you typed the passcode for his lock and it beeped in affirmation, as you opened the door to his dark apartment, something in you still lurched in suspense. Like your body knew what was coming and your heart and mind couldn't accept it. Even as you rounded the corner of the hall and saw an extra pair of shoes by the entrance.
Heels..
You still walked through the living room and kitchen area. Right down to the other hall and to Minseok's bedroom door. Even as you heard them through the crack in the door you opened it.. and the tears that had been welling in your eyes since you walked into the dark apartment finally fell at the sight of Minseok, his dick buried in some other girl.
"Cho Minseok."
He sprang up, eyes wide like a deer in headlights as he finally took in your prescene.
You threw the box on the floor and whispered. "You asshole."
"Y/n!" You ran to the elevator and got in just in time to turn and see him running as the elevator closed, bedsheet wrapped around his waist as he called after you.
As the elevator went down your mind and heart finally caught up with the rest of your body and you fell to the cold floor and cried.
The last place Chan expected to see you, was bumbling down the street at night. Drunk.
Yet when he finally convinced you to get in his car he groaned and looked at you. "What on earth are you doing?"
You didn't answer, staring blankly out of the car window.
"I'll call Minseok to come get you-"
"Don't." You said quietly.
"Y/n." He sighed. "Minseok won't judge you for getting drunk, he probably won't tell Minho eithe-"
"Minseok is busy right now!" You snapped.
Chan stared at you. "Busy with what?"
"How is it your business?" You snapped. "You hate Minseok, I get it. but our relationship isn't your business."
"When are you going to stop him from running all over you, Y/N!?" Chan shouted.
You froze."Why do you care... go back to Yeojin."
Chan stared at you. "i have nothing with her..."
You took a few shaky breaths before you buried your face in your hands.
Chan took your hand and squeezed it gently whispering. "What happened?"
You looked at him, his coffee colored eyes so sincere. No judgement or ulterior motives, nothing but patience and empathy.
You leaned against him over the console. "He's with someone else."
"Since when?" He asked, his arm wrapping around your shoulders.
"I don't fucking know and I don't give a damn."
He hummed. "You wanna go home?"
"I don't want an earful from Minho." You said, closing your eyes.
Chan pulled away and started the car. The alcohol finally claimed your consciousness. You woke up a while later on Chan's bed, you sat up, still a bit tipsy. You stood from the bed and stumbled slightly as you walked. You saw Chan on the couch, staring at the ceiling.
"You left me alone again..." you said softly.
Chan looked at you. "I thought you'd be alright."
You stared at him.
"Come here.." he muttered.
You moved to him and sat beside him on the couch, leaning into hiss body heat.
You sat in silence for a few minutes, then your mouth ran faster than your brain could help and you asked. "Do you like me..."
Chan's body stiffened.
"Be honest.."
"Y/n."
"Tell me."
"Minho would be angry at me-"
"CHAN!" You snapped, pulling away from him. "No... I understand. No one really likes me because I'm jus-"
He cut you off, kissing you. Your eyes widened momentarily before you relaxed and kissed him back. Your already cloudy mind felt like it was covered by a drape of emotion you couldn't understand, taking all your air away, wrapping itself around you like an anaconda. It squeezed the very passion from your veins and pushed it all into that kiss.
Chan pulled away for air first and your eyes met as he finally whispered. "I don't like you. I love you."
You kissed him again as he leaned into you, pinning you to the couch. His lips moved from yours to your jaw and neck before he froze. Minho... He started to pull away. "Y/n we can't-"
You grabbed his face in your hands and whispered, tears brimming in your eyes, "Please..."
Chan couldn't tell in the rush of getting you from the couch into his room how he ended up beneath you. Staring up into your pretty eyes before you leaned down to kiss him, his tongue fought with yours as your hands lifted his shirt and ran over his chiseled abdomen. When you moaned softly into his mouth something in his snapped and he grabbed you. Flipping you both and pinning you to the bed, staring down at you.
You smiled up at him and he rolled his eyes before kissing you agan, his lips moving to attack your neck and collar bones before he pulled off your shirt. You whined and tugged at his before he pulled it over his head and tossed his somewhere. You reached up and caressed his stomach before he took your hand in his and your fingers intertwined as he pinned it to the bed.
"We shouldn't..." He mumbled against your lips.
"Want you to.." You whispered.
"Fuck.." he moaned softly against your lips and rubbed his crotch against your clothed heat.
You pulled your hands free and wrapped them around him, pulling him down to you. Your world seemed to blur and darken, your only focus the man above you. How he worshipped you, lips moving from your jaw to your throat, decorating your skin with love bites. Moving lower and pulling your pants down slowly.
It wasn't painful or rushed. He kissed you slowly, filling you to the brim and more, each thrust met with soft cry from you. His hands at your hip pulling you into each push of his pelvis against yours. He leaned down and kissed you, his body caging you in, you held onto him tightly, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he bucked into you again and again. Knocking the air from your lungs every time he fucked into you, pushing deep, deep.
Mesmerized by the sight of of your pussy engulfing his cock as you whimpered and mewled beneath him.
"Are you going to cum for me?" He mumbled in your ear. "Gonna milk me dry, sweet girl?"
Your back arched off the bed at that, Chan groaned and reached between you rubbing your sensitive clit.
"Cum for me princess." He breathed into your neck, pulling out slowly before stuffing his cock into you roughly again.
"Channie!" Your pussy clenched tightly around hiss manhood and he pulled out. Pumping his cock until his release shot onto your breasts and stomach.
He held himself over you. "Fuck..." He dragged himself up to get something to clean you but when he came his eyes went wide at the sight of your hands on your face the soft sound of your sobs reaching his earss. "Y/N- I shouldn't have. Did I hurt you? I'm sorry-"
"Not you." You said, taking a deep shaky breath.
"Then-"
You took your hands away from your face and smiled. "I love you Chan.."
He smiled gently and kissed your forehead before cleaning you and getting back into bed.
"Can I ask you a question?" You said in the quiet darkness.
"Huh?" He turned to you.
"Did you replace Gudetama?"
Chan smiled. "Was it so obvious?"
"It smelled like your cologne.."
"You paid attention to how I smelled?" he gasped in shock.
"Shut up." You smacked his chest and rolled your eyes despite your face going hot.
He smirked and kissed the top of your head. "I don't mind."
You rolled your eyes but moved closer, relaxing into his warm embrace before falling asleep.
Chan hugged you to his chest, staring up at the ceiling as he caressed your hair. He heard something buzz and looked at your phone on his bedside table. He took in your peacefully sleeping face and smiled about to ignore it. Then it rang.
He moved away from you slowly and reached over you grabbing the jingling device. Minseok's face flashed across your screen. Chan made a face and answered, pulling the covers over your bare body before bringing the phone to his ear.
"Y/N! I'm so glad you finally answered! Baby it's not what you thought! I don't even know her real-"
"Y/n is busy," Chan said, looking at you sleeping.
"Chan?" Minseok asked, confused. "Pass her the phone."
"She's exhausted," Chan said, "and it's because of you. I doubt she'll call you back, so please don't call my girl's number again."
"YOUR GIRL??" He shouted on the other end of the line. "BANG CHAN! THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"
Chan smiled to himself as he said. "Going to sleep with my girlfriend." He got back into bed and smiled at your sleeping face. "Good bye Minseok."
"Oh, Chan I swear-"
Chan hung up and pulled you close to him again.
"What was that about?" You asked half asleep.
"Nothing." Chan kissed your forehead. "Go to sleep."
Chan drove you home the next morning. You were still a bit sad, but as you unlocked the front door your eyes widened at the sight of a disheveled looking Minseok sitting in your kitchen with your elder brother. Chan followed close behind you, his eyes narrowing when he saw the men.
"Y/N!" Minseok jumped from his seat and ran to you.
"Don't touch me!" You shouted as he tried to hug you.
Minho turned to you and Chan. "Minseok told me everything."
"Then why would you let him in-" You started.
"Bang Chan." Minho said quietly. "Get out."
"Minho-" Chan started.
"Get out!" your brother shouted.
"Y/n baby what happened?" Minseok touched your face and you slapped him away.
"What did you tell him?!" You pointed a finger at Minseok.
"What there was to be said." He grabbed your hands and you pulled away.
"Minho. I know what you're thinking-" Chan tried to calm your brother who was standing up now.
"Oh you do?!" Minho said, clearly getting aggravated by Chan's prescence.
"Listen to me-" Chan said, putting his hands up as MInho approached.
But he was cut off by punch to the face that made your eyes widen.
"Bro-" You tried to grab Minho but Minseok grabbed your hand.
"Let's talk about this-" He said before you slapped him hard.
"I told you to stay away from my sister." Minho said, walking up to Chan as he took several steps back.
"Minho let me explain!" Chan said, trying to stay out of his friend's range.
"There's nothing to explain!" Your brother shouted.
"Bro please!" Chan tried.
"Minho!" You grabbed your brother's arm.
He whipped around to face you. "You can't seriously defend him! Y/N!"
"Maybe I am!" You shouted, you walked between Chan and Minho. "No.. I am defending him. He didn't do anything wrong."
Your brother stared at you before looking at Chan and muttering. "Leave."
"Minho." You said softly.
Chan bit his lip before grabbing Minseok and dragging him out with him.
"Why would you do that?!" You shouted as Chan slammed the door behind him.
"Chan wouldn't care about you! IF you knew LIKE I DO you'd understand!" Minho yelled back.
"I don't know him like you do! BUt you should've let him explain!"
"What was there to explain?! He dragged you to bed when you were drunk-"
"DO YOU KNOW WHY?!" You cut him off. "MINSEOK IS AN ASSHOLE! Minseok cheated on me! Chan didn't want to go that far. I asked him to! I like Chan A LOT! Whatever rule or whatever shit you have that keeps me from being with him needs to stop..." You trailed off. "Because you might lose me too."
Your brother stood there in shock as you ran up the stairs.
It was a week later when Chan was out with Jisung, Hyunjin, and Changbin.
"Just tell Minho you're sorry." Changbin said sipping his cola as the three waited for their food.
"He wouldn't even let me talk." Chan groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"Tragic really." Jisung sighed.
Chan and Changbin looked at their friend with blank expressions as if to say be fricking for real.
Jisung sipped his drink. "I think you should just wait a bit. You know? I doubt Minho will stay mad forever, he's your good friend..."
Chan nodded. "I should just apologize whenever he calms down."
"If he doesn't just walk away from the toxic controlling friend." Hyunjin shook his head.
"Apologize now then."
Hyunjin jumped in fear at Minho's voice. "HYUNG!"
Minho looked at Hyunjin. "You'll eat tissues later."
Chan stared at Minho. "How did you even know I was here?"
Jisung looked completely invested in the bubbles floating in his soda suddenly.
Minho laughed and Chan sighed before standing. "Minho I-"
"I'm sorry for punching you." Minho said, "I'm sorry for accusing you of... things... and I'm sorry for making you stay away from Y/N..."
Chan smiled at his friend. "It's alright, I mean I didn't say I liked her before you threw that ban on me suddenly.. I'm sorry too."
The men smiled at each other.
"Hug it out! Hug it out Hug it out! Hug it-" Hyunjin started only to shrink away in fear as Minho grabbed a bunch of napkins from the dispenser on the table.
You laughed and Chan turned to you. "You're here.."
"Someone had to stop Min if he ended up attacking someone." You smiled.
"THEN HELP ME!" Hyunjin started only to get a mouthful of tissues.
You giggled and smiled at Chan as MInho gave him a look.
"May I kiss you princes?" Chan smirked, leaning into you.
MInho acted like he was going to vomit. And Jisung dramatically passed out.
"You may."
Chan pressed his lip against yours.
"ALRIGHT THAT'S ENOUGH!" MInho said rolling his eyes. "You should compensate me for the mental and emotional distress I went through, I say buy me pizza!"
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