#Do I just use he him? Or have I just forgotten what it's like to be called it/it's by people?

[idyllic-ghost]

Title: Boyfriend Privileges Pairing: Mingyu x gn(femme presenting)!reader Genre: fluff, suggestive, established relationship Wordcount: 9.9k Rating: 18+

Synopsis: The ten times Mingyu has shown off his "boyfriend privileges"

Warnings: suggestive content not suitable for anyone under the age of 18, food mention, pet names, reader presents as feminine at one point (wearing a dress) but it still reads as gender neutral, slight angst, bathing together

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

A/N: this fic was created before i decided to leave this blog permanently, and put on queue to be posted now. this blog is still not active. read here to find out why

MDNI: Adults only. Minors are not allowed. Any minors found will be blocked.

Masterlists

You're not sure exactly when it began or what prompted it, but a few months into your relationship, Mingyu started asking you to do little tasks for him. They're always small, often tedious things. Whenever you hesitate, he flashes a charming smile and invokes "boyfriend privileges." Maybe it's the playful way he says it or the endearing look in his eyes, but you always end up giving in.

Mingyu, ever perceptive, has noticed this and teeters on the brink of abusing his "powers." But it doesn't bother you. You'd happily indulge your boyfriend's privileges.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 1. Overgrown puppy cuddles

Mingyu is a large puppy that just doesn’t understand how big he is. At least, that's how you see him. Whenever your boyfriend comes home from an especially rough day at work, he wants cuddles. It doesn't matter what you're doing, he'll pout and beg until you sit down on the couch and let him cuddle up in your lap.

"You're crushing me," you mutter.

You're sitting with your legs over the couch cushions, your back against the armrest. Mingyu's laying over your body like a human blanket—one of those electrical blankets that people use in winter. The man is warm.

"Boyfriend privileges," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your skin.

You sigh because you know he's right, you'd let him do this even if he's crushing your bones. Letting your fingers tangle in his hair, Mingyu let's out a sound of approval and nuzzles his head deeper into the crook of your neck. His arms are around your torso, making sure that you don't even try to move. Not that you would.

"Did you have a long day?" you ask softly and he hums. "My poor baby..."

You coo at him, and he whines—he's relishing in being doted on. Mingyu's arms squeeze you a little, a silent sign that he wants you to continue.

"You work so hard, don't you?" You wait for Mingyu to nod before you coo again, "My hardworking Gyu, you're doing such a good job. People love you, you know that? They appreciate your work. So do I."

Mingyu tilts his head up, his eyebrows raised as he silently asks for confirmation. "I really do," you add.

"Thank you..." He puts his forehead against your chest and sighs. "I needed this... needed you."

"I know, puppy." You smile and ruffle his hair.

Mingyu groans and lifts his upper body off of you, his arms resting on the armrest behind you. "Oh, finally! I can breathe!" you exclaim dramatically.

"Sorry," he mutters.

You cup his face in your hands. "I was kidding. I don't mind." You lean in and press a kiss on his pouty lips. "You're like my blanket... or like a Saint Bernard who's forgotten he's not a puppy anymore."

Mingyu smiles at that, before leaning in to litter your face with pecks that have you giggling and squealing.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 2. Random massages

You're in line for a ride at an amusement park when Mingyu suddenly turns to you. It's been at least five minutes since you started waiting, and you can tell he's getting impatient. His foot taps rhythmically on the ground, and he keeps glancing at his watch.

"Can you give me a massage? My shoulder's stiff," he huffs, rubbing the offending spot for emphasis.

"Again?" Your eyebrows furrow with concern. "Gyu, you should really go see a specialist..."

Mingyu pretends to ponder this suggestion, then shakes his head with a playful grin. "I don't need a specialist if I have you."

You sigh and roll your eyes, but can't help smiling at his pleading expression. His big, puppy-like eyes, the way his smile showcases his adorable canines, and his hands clasped together in a mockery of prayer make it impossible to refuse. "Sure," you mutter, already resigning yourself to his request.

The line moves a little, and you both shuffle forward a few steps. You're momentarily distracted by the imposing structure of the rollercoaster ahead, watching as the cart sends passengers hurtling through loops and dips at breakneck speed. Your reverie is interrupted by Mingyu poking your side.

"What?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Please?" he repeats, his tone even more imploring.

"Now?" You glance around at the crowd surrounding you—though no one seems to be paying attention, you feel self-conscious.

"Now," Mingyu insists, nodding earnestly.

"Babe, I can't massage you here. You know you shouldn't take off your shirt in public, right? Even if we do find somewhere private, I don't have any oils—"

"Not a big one." He interrupts, holding up his hand with his index finger and thumb inches apart. "A small one. Just on the spot on my shoulder."

"Gyu—"

"Boyfriend privileges," he pleads quietly, eyes wide and hopeful.

You can't say no to him when he gets like this. With a resigned sigh, you motion for him to turn around. He does so eagerly, bending his knees slightly to give you better access to his shoulder. Placing one hand on his neck and the other on his shoulder, you begin to work your thumb into the knot you find there.

Mingyu lets out a soft, contented sigh, only audible to your ears, as he relaxes almost immediately under your touch. The tension in his shoulder melts away, and his head drops forward slightly, eyes closing in relief. The gentle hum of the amusement park, the chatter of the crowd, and the distant screams from the rollercoaster all fade into the background as you focus on easing his discomfort.

Despite the oddity of the situation, there's something intimate and endearing about the moment. The world around you blurs, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of your own making. And as you massage Mingyu's shoulder, you can't help but feel a warm rush of affection for him and his silly, endearing ways.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 3. Sharing food

The restaurant is alive with the hum of conversations, the clinking of cutlery, and the occasional burst of laughter. However, all of this fades into a distant background as you focus intently on Chan's story. It's a rare opportunity to meet the members in person, despite your boyfriend working so closely with them, so you want to make the most of every second.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is lost in his own world. Ever since he finished his meal, he’s been zoned out—leaning back in his chair with a distant look in his eyes. You can't decide if he's impatiently waiting for Chan to finish or if he's just succumbed to a food coma. But when he casually reaches over and steals a fry from your plate, your doubts about the food coma vanish. You glance at him, and he meets your gaze with a small, mischievous smile before grabbing another fry. You let him.

A sudden gasp beside you snaps you back, and you turn to see Jun staring at you with mock jealousy from across the table. You smile and tilt your head questioningly.

"What?" you ask, bemused.

"You hit my hand when I tried to borrow a fry from you," Jun accuses, his eyes narrowed at you.

"First of all, I gently slapped it," you correct him. "Second of all, you were stealing, not borrowing. Don't try to make your crime sound better."

Jun huffs dramatically, and you can't help but grin. Meanwhile, Mingyu, taking advantage of the distraction, nabs another fry from your plate. There are almost none left now. As Jun reaches out to make another attempt, you slap his hand away with a swift motion.

"But he—" Jun starts to protest.

"Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu interjects smoothly, popping the last two fries into his mouth with a triumphant grin.

You hear a collective groan from the others at the table, but you just chuckle at Mingyu’s proud expression. "Mhm, boyfriend privileges," you repeat softly, unable to suppress a smile.

You lift a hand to gently brush the hair out of Mingyu's face, and he looks at you with a loving smile that makes your heart flutter. The warm feeling in your stomach is more than just the satisfaction from the delicious food you've eaten.

"Can I finish telling my story now?" Chan interrupts, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

You pull your gaze away from Mingyu and refocus on Chan, giving him your full attention once again. "Go on," you say, eager to hear the rest of his tale.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 4. Seeing you first thing in the morning

The feeling of someone's soft breaths feathering against your face makes you scrunch your nose in sleepy annoyance. Mingyu's warm hands travel to your waist with the familiarity of someone who’s done it a million times before. And he has. His touch is intimate and assured, sliding over your skin with practiced ease. He knows you're awake now, evident by the low hum you let out, so he presses a few tender kisses on the bare skin of your clavicle, each one like a gentle spark of warmth.

"G'morning," you mutter, your voice still heavy with sleep, the words blending into a sigh.

"Good morning," he whispers softly, his breath tickling your skin.

You recognize his morning voice—his "I just woke up" voice—so you can tell he’s been up for a while. His voice sounds clearer, more alert, like he’s had time to turn around and take a sip of the water he always leaves on his bedside table.

"Have you been awake for long?" you ask, your words barely above a whisper as his lips continue their gentle exploration, each kiss a tender reminder of his affection.

"Since eight-thirty," he answers between kisses, each one a delicate attempt to keep you as close as possible.

You glance at the clock, seeing that it's almost nine already. "Babe, you've been awake for half an hour... why didn’t you wake me up?"

Mingyu pauses his kisses to look up at you, his expression soft and affectionate, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion. Turning his head slightly, he looks over at the clock and hums thoughtfully.

"I was busy," he says with a playful glint in his eyes. He nestles his head back in the crook of your neck, his warmth enveloping you, but doesn’t resume his kisses, much to your dismay.

"Busy doing what?" you murmur, curiosity piqued, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his back.

"Looking at you," he admits with a giggle, lifting his head to meet your eyes. His gaze is filled with affection, his eyes sparkling with sincerity, and he's trying his best to hold back a big grin. "It's my boyfriend privilege. Only I get to see you like this."

"It's a privilege to see my bed head?" You snort, but Mingyu stays serious, his eyes unwavering, his hand gently stroking your cheek.

"Everyday," he replies softly, his voice a tender caress.

You feel a rush of warmth at his words, and you can't help but smile. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer for a soft, lingering kiss. His lips are warm and inviting, the kiss deepening with the love and tenderness that has grown between you over the months. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, intimate moment.

When you finally pull back, Mingyu's eyes are half-lidded, his expression content and serene. He gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek, his touch light and loving. "I love these quiet mornings with you," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your soul.

"Me too," you whisper back, your heart swelling with affection, your eyes locked with his.

You snuggle closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly. The world outside can wait a little longer as you bask in the warmth of each other's presence, the quiet intimacy of the morning making everything else fade away. Mingyu's hands continue their gentle caresses, his fingers tracing soft lines over your skin. You feel utterly cherished, each touch and kiss a testament to the love you share. The gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his body against yours create a cocoon of contentment that you never want to leave.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 5. Showing you off

"Gyu!" you shout from the bathroom, "What time is it?"

The sound of his long steps come closer and closer until the bathroom door pushes open. Mingyu's head peeks through the gap in the door, and smiles as soon as he sees you. You're wearing the new dress he bought you, the cute sundress that couldn't help himself from buying when he saw you looking at it.

"You're pretty," he murmurs and slinks into the bathroom.

He wraps his arms around you, your back relaxing into his chest. "Mingyu," you repeat.

"What?" He pulls his eyes away from the dress to meet your eyes.

"What time is it?" you ask again with a teasing smile.

"Oh, it's around three-thirty." His hands find your waist. "We should leave in half an hour."

You nod and start packing up your make up. "Good, I think I'm done anyway... do you think I look okay?"

Mingyu lets go of you, spinning you around to face him. You can only grin while he studies you carefully with his lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed in focus. After a few seconds, he nods—satisfied with what he's seen.

"Perfect." He puts his hand right below your jaw, careful not to disturb the make up on your face. "You look perfect, baby."

His smile remains radiant as you arrive at his family's get-together, a constant beam of joy that lights up the entire evening. Mingyu keeps you close, his arm possessively yet gently wrapped around you, presenting you to the members of his family you haven't yet met. Every introduction is accompanied by a glowing remark about you, his voice brimming with pride. You feel like a movie star at a film premiere—the constant pampering, the way his eyes sparkle every time he looks at you, and the sneaky photos he snaps when he thinks you're not looking.

Mingyu can't seem to stop showering you with compliments. "This is my partner," he says, beaming, as he introduces you to yet another relative. "They're incredible, you know. Smart, kind, and absolutely stunning." He turns his head to you, trying to contain his big smile by biting down on his bottom lip.

You blush, murmuring polite responses, but his praise never ceases. It's in the way he looks at you, eyes full of adoration, and the way he never lets go of your hand, his thumb occasionally brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture.

Throughout the evening, Mingyu is a constant presence by your side, his touch grounding you amidst the whirlwind of social interactions. His family is warm and welcoming, their smiles genuine as they embrace you into their fold. The air is filled with laughter and conversation, the smell of delicious food wafting through the house, creating an atmosphere of warmth and togetherness.

Mingyu’s playful nature shines through as he snaps candid photos of you, his grin widening each time you catch him in the act. "You’re just too beautiful not to capture," he explains with a cheeky smile, earning a soft laugh from you.

As the night progresses, you find yourself growing more and more flustered under the weight of his unending compliments. Yet, there's a thrill in it—a heady mixture of embarrassment and joy at being the center of his universe. His family notices, and they tease him gently about his lovesick behavior, but it only makes him hold you closer, whispering sweet nothings in your ear that make your heart flutter.

By the time the evening winds down, you’re overwhelmed with affection, feeling cherished and adored in a way that leaves you breathless. The warmth of Mingyu’s family, combined with his constant praise and tender glances, has wrapped you in a cocoon of love and contentment. As you prepare to leave, Mingyu wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close for a tender kiss on your temple, his lips lingering just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Thank you for coming with me tonight," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with genuine gratitude. "You made everything perfect."

You smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your own. "Thank you for taking me along... I don't think I've seen you like this before," you admit, your voice a gentle whisper in the quiet of the night.

"What do you mean?" He cocks his head, his eyes curious and endearing, making you laugh softly at his obliviousness.

"You were trying to show me off all night," you explain, a playful note in your voice. Seeing his slightly worried expression, you quickly add, "It was sweet, Gyu. Really, it was."

Relief floods his features, and he leans in to press a kiss on your lips. The kiss is soft, lingering a second longer than it should, filling you with a warmth that spreads through your entire body. "It's my boyfriend privilege to get to show you off," he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection.

You groan playfully, rolling your eyes at his words as he starts giggling, the sound infectious and heartwarming. Taking your hand in his, he leads you to the cab he's ordered to take you home. The night air is cool and refreshing, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees, but Mingyu's hand in yours keeps you warm.

As you approach the cab, he pauses for a moment, turning to look at you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. "You know," he says softly, brushing a stray hair from your face, "You should wear that dress more often."

"Oh yeah?"

Your breath catches in your throat at his words as he pulls you into a tight embrace. "Yeah," he whispers.

With one last lingering kiss, you both get into the cab, his arm never leaving your shoulders. As the city lights blur past the window, you lean into Mingyu, feeling his warmth envelop you.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 6. A shoulder to cry on

When you enter the apartment, none of the lights are turned on. You worked late that day, but not so late that Mingyu would've gone to sleep already. The apartment is eerily quiet, devoid of the usual warmth and liveliness. Toeing off your shoes and putting away your outerwear in their rightful places, you start to wonder if he's not home. He usually texts you when he gets home, but you haven't received any messages.

Concern etches between your brows as you walk further into the apartment. The kitchen is spotless, with no pots or pans on the stove—not that you always expect Mingyu to cook, but he had told you earlier today that he'd have something ready for you when you got home. You open the fridge, finding it just as you left it this morning. The absence of any signs of recent activity deepens your worry.

As you pass the bathroom by the guest room, you flick on the lights, casting a warm glow to see the path to your shared bedroom. By the ajar door, you notice a piece of fabric slumped together on the floor. Picking it up, you realize it's Mingyu's jacket. You drape it over your arm and continue to the bedroom, your heart pounding with unease.

He's not there, but you see that the light in your bathroom is on, a soft glow seeping through the cracks in the door. You place his jacket on the edge of the bed before approaching the bathroom door, only to find it locked.

You knock softly, pressing your ear against the door. "Mingyu, I'm home... are you okay?"

"I'm okay, baby," he replies, but his voice is thick with tears. "Sorry, I didn't have time to make you dinner... I think there's some leftovers from yesterday."

"Please, open the door." Ignoring his suggestion about dinner, you grab the door handle. "I can hear that you're not okay."

You hear him sigh, and his footsteps approach the door. Stepping back, you wait as the door swings open. The first thing you see is his bloodshot eyes and red nose. He sniffles and looks away, trying to hide his vulnerability.

"I'm..." He hesitates, torn between lying and being honest.

Before he can decide, you engulf him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. "Oh, baby..."

The dam breaks as a sob bubbles up Mingyu's throat, a raw, heart-wrenching sound that shatters the silence. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hot tears streaming down his cheeks and soaking into your shirt. You can feel the wet warmth of his tears spreading, a tangible sign of his anguish.

You rub his back soothingly, your hand moving in slow, comforting circles. Each sob wracks his body, causing his shoulders to tremble violently. His fingers clutch at your shirt, holding on as if he might drown without this anchor.

Minutes pass, each one heavy with his sorrow, until finally, his sobs begin to subside. His shoulders stop shaking, and his breathing slowly evens out, though occasional hiccups still break through. Only then do you loosen your embrace, though you don't fully let go. Instead, you gently take his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that cling to his skin. His eyes are red and swollen, filled with a mixture of lingering sadness and gratitude.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask softly.

"...can I tell you later? I'll start crying again if I tell you now." He lets out a choked laugh, trying to relieve the tension, but your frown remains.

"Okay. Let's get you cleaned up."

You gently wipe away Mingyu’s tears, your thumb brushing over his cheeks with tender care. His skin is warm and damp, his eyes still glistening with the remnants of his sorrow. Your touch is gentle and reassuring as you guide him to change into more comfortable clothes. You help him out of his work attire, unbuttoning his shirt with careful fingers, and replacing it with a soft, worn-in t-shirt that brings him comfort. Each movement is deliberate, designed to soothe and calm him. You then help him into a pair of loose, cozy sweatpants, ensuring he's enveloped in softness and warmth.

Once he’s settled, you guide him to the couch in the living room, your arm around his waist, supporting his slow and heavy movements. The weight of his exhaustion is impossible to miss, his shoulders slumped and his steps dragging. He collapses onto the couch with a weary sigh, sinking into the cushions as if they might absorb some of his burden.

You start to leave for the kitchen, intending to get him something to eat or drink, but he grabs your hand. His grip is firm yet desperate, his fingers curling around yours with a silent plea for you to stay.

You turn back to him, your heart aching at the sight of his vulnerable expression. Mingyu looks up at you, his eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and need. "Don't leave," he whispers.

"I'm going to heat up some leftovers," you explain. "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

Mingyu shakes his head no and lets go of your hand. You feel his eyes on you as you walk around the kitchen, quickly putting something together. It's not fancy, and it's nothing like what he usually makes you, but it's enough for the two of you right now.

When you return to his side, you give him his bowl before settling down next to him. You eat in silence, letting Mingyu sit as close to you as he pleases. When you're done, you take the dishes to the kitchen. Although you want him to sit still and rest, he follows you—his arms wrapped around your waist the entire time.

It's hard to move around, but you don't complain. Soon enough, the dishes are done and you're back on the couch. Mingyu has his arms wrapped tightly around you as you lay on top of him.

"Thank you," he mutters.

"You don't have to thank me." You lean up to look him in the eye. "Me taking care of you is your boyfriend privilege."

He smiles and presses a chaste kiss on your lips before closing his eyes. The two of you end up falling asleep on the couch on accident. But your stiff body is worth it when you get to see Mingyu smiling at you the next morning.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 7. A shoulder to nap on

On the flight back home from a much-needed vacation, Mingyu booked the two of you first-class seats. It was partly because he loves spoiling you, but also so you could sleep comfortably on the way home. The plush seats and extra legroom were a perfect idea, promising a restful journey, but right now, that comfort feels like a far-off dream.

The flight was delayed by a few hours, leaving you and Mingyu stuck at the gate. The airport buzzes with the quiet hum of late-night travelers, the occasional announcement crackling over the PA system. The two of you sit in the lounge, surrounded by weary passengers slumped in their chairs, eyes glazed with fatigue. The smell of coffee and cleaning agents lingers in the air, mingling with the soft rustle of newspapers and the muted clatter of luggage wheels.

Mingyu tries to make the best of the situation, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. His warmth seeps into you, a soothing balm against the weariness. "Just a little longer," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the delay, his presence is a comforting anchor in the sea of exhaustion, his voice a soft murmur that calms your racing thoughts.

You glance at the clock, the minutes ticking by slowly. The soft lighting of the lounge casts a warm glow, but it does little to chase away the tiredness settling into your bones. Mingyu's fingers trace soothing patterns on your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring, each stroke a silent promise of love and comfort.

"I can't wait to be home in my bed," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with exhaustion.

Mingyu leans his head on your shoulder, his soft hair brushing against your cheek as he closes his eyes with a contented sigh. The weight and warmth of his head against your shoulder provide an unexpected comfort, grounding you in the moment. "This is enough for me," he says softly, his breath warm and reassuring against your skin.

"My shoulder?" you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice, feeling the vibration of his chuckle through the closeness.

"Yes," he replies, his tone earnest and affectionate. His closeness feels intimate and safe, a bubble of tranquility amidst the chaos of the airport.

"And why should I let you have my shoulder?" you tease, a smile tugging at your lips as you relish the closeness.

"Boyfriend privileges," he replies matter-of-factly, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. The slight pressure of his lips against your skin sends a wave of warmth through you.

You sigh, a mixture of amusement and tenderness filling your heart. The playful banter and the sincere love in his voice make your heart swell. You tilt your head to rest against his, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. The world around you fades into a comforting blur, the distant chatter of the airport and the mechanical hum of the environment becoming mere background noise.

For a moment, it's just the two of you, wrapped in each other's warmth and love. His presence is a cocoon of safety and affection, and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax fully in his embrace. The gentle rhythm of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart, and the soft, warm pressure of his head against yours create a symphony of comfort that lulls you into a peaceful state.

Your peace is soon interrupted, however. Finally, the boarding announcement crackles through the speakers, breaking the heavy silence of anticipation and sparking a collective sigh of relief that ripples through the gate area. The weariness of the long wait begins to lift as passengers gather their belongings. Mingyu helps you gather your things, his hand never leaving yours as you make your way to the boarding line. His touch is a reassuring anchor, grounding you amidst the bustling crowd.

"Almost there," Mingyu whispers, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Thank goodness," you reply, offering him a tired smile.

The atmosphere shifts as you step onto the jet bridge, a mix of excitement and fatigue hanging in the air. The cool, conditioned air of the plane greets you as you board, offering a welcome contrast to the stuffy terminal. The flight attendants greet you with warm smiles, guiding you toward the plush sanctuary of first class.

Settling into your spacious seats, the world outside begins to fade away. The soft cushions envelop you in comfort, and the generous legroom allows you to stretch out and relax. Mingyu stows your carry-ons in the overhead compartment with ease, his movements fluid and practiced.

As he sits down beside you, the overhead lights cast a gentle glow. "This is so much better," you murmur.

Mingyu smiles, reaching over to adjust your blanket, tucking it around you with a tenderness that melts your heart. "I told you it would be worth the wait," he says softly, his eyes filled with affection.

You can't help but smile at the thought of curling up next to him, the hum of the plane's engines a soothing backdrop. "You always know how to spoil me," you whisper, leaning into his touch.

"It's my favorite thing to do," he replies, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Besides, you deserve it."

As the plane takes off, you lean into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. The world outside the window shrinks to a distant blur, and you close your eyes, surrendering to the warmth of his embrace.

"Thank you, Gyu," you murmur, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

"For what?" he asks, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"For everything. For this. For you," you whisper, your words trailing off as sleep begins to claim you.

"Always," he replies softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your arm. "Sleep well, my love."

Wrapped in the comfort of his love and care, you drift off, the promise of restful sleep finally within reach. The gentle touch of his fingers lulls you into a peaceful slumber

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 8. Lunch boxes

When someone called out for lunchtime, the members collectively let out a big sigh of relief. With tired limbs, they make their way to the cafeteria. While everyone else lines up to buy something, Mingyu heads straight to the fridge and retrieves a carefully prepared meal. He sits down at a table, placing the metal box with a wooden lid in front of him. A pink, stretchy band adorned with tiny red strawberries holds the spoon in place. His face lights up with a smile as he spots the small note on the lid.

Hope practice is going well! I know you're working hard, so please enjoy your lunch and eat well! Can't wait for you to come home♡(>ᴗ•)

Mingyu carefully folds the pink post-it and tucks it into his phone case, a cherished reminder of your thoughtfulness. By then, people have started sitting down beside him, their eyes subtly glancing at the box in front of him. Nobody says anything—they already know what it is—until he opens it.

Inside the box is a beautifully arranged Korean lunchbox. The main compartment holds perfectly steamed white rice, topped with a sprinkling of black sesame seeds. Nestled beside it is a portion of crispy fried chicken, golden brown and glistening with a light coating of sweet and spicy sauce. The other sections are filled with a variety of colorful banchan: neatly sliced kimchi, lightly seasoned spinach, sweet and tangy pickled radish, and tender strips of stir-fried beef bulgogi. There’s even a small section of rolled omelette, its yellow hue bright and inviting.

The delicious aroma wafts up, drawing envious glances from his fellow members. The savory scent of fried chicken and the tangy hint of kimchi fill the air, making everyone's mouths water.

"Did Y/N make you another lunchbox?" Seokmin asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yeah, they were working from home yesterday, so they had some extra time on their hands," Mingyu replies, a small smile playing on his lips as he inspects the beautifully arranged food.

"It's not fair that only you get homemade lunches from Y/N!" Seungkwan whines, his tone a mix of genuine envy and playful teasing.

Mingyu responds by sticking his tongue out at Seungkwan, making the younger man groan in exasperation. "Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu states proudly, his grin widening.

As he digs in, Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, savoring the flavors and the love that went into preparing his meal. The meat is perfectly seasoned, the rice fluffy, and the banchan vibrant and flavorful. Each bite is a reminder of your care and effort, making the meal taste even better. The members watch with a mix of admiration and envy as Mingyu enjoys his lunch.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 9. Bath buddy

As you walk the last bit to the door of your apartment building, you notice a figure in the distance. A tall man, vaguely boyfriend-shaped, waving both of his arms over his head with enthusiasm. Your heart skips a beat, and your smile matches Mingyu's as you break into a run, closing the gap between you. He’s sweaty from the gym, his skin glistening in the fading light, but you don’t mind. You launch yourself into his embrace, pressing yourself as close as possible, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort of his body.

"Are you trying to squeeze me to death?" he asks jokingly, his voice vibrating against your ear.

You loosen your grip slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile. "You have no idea how much I've missed you today."

Instead of teasing you, Mingyu gently pats your head, his fingers threading through your hair with a comforting touch. He sees the weariness in your eyes and the way your hair seems to stick out in all the wrong places, evidence of a long, hard day. "Bad day, hun?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

The moment he speaks, you feel your guard drop completely. Your lips naturally fall into a pout, and your hands grip the material of his shirt a little tighter. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the exhaustion you feel. Mingyu coos at you softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment, offering silent comfort. He then guides you to the door, his hand resting on the small of your back, a steadying presence.

"Do you want to take a bath with me?" he asks as he opens the door for you, his voice gentle and soothing.

"Okay," you murmur.

Once inside, the apartment feels like a sanctuary, the chaos of the outside world fading away as the door clicks shut behind you. The familiar scent of home, mingled with Mingyu's comforting presence, immediately begins to soothe your frazzled nerves. He leads you to the bathroom, his touch a constant, reassuring anchor as he guides you down the softly lit hallway. The gentle hum of the apartment envelops you, creating a cocoon of tranquility.

In the bathroom, Mingyu starts running the bath, the sound of water filling the room like a calming symphony. You watch as he carefully adds your favorite bath salts, the granules dissolving into the warm water and releasing a soothing aroma. The scent of lavender and chamomile fills the air, creating a spa-like atmosphere that begins to unwind the knots of tension coiled within you.

Mingyu helps you undress with tender, loving movements, his touch feather-light yet filled with purpose. His fingers trace the contours of your body with a delicate touch, each gesture a silent reassurance of his love and care. The way his hands glide over your skin, unhurried and gentle, sends a wave of warmth through you, dispelling the day’s weariness.

He sheds his own clothes with practiced ease, the fabric slipping off his toned frame effortlessly. The sight of his familiar form, strong and comforting, brings a sense of security and warmth. His skin, slightly glistening from the exertion of the day, catches the soft light, highlighting the lines of his muscles and the contours of his body. There's a serene beauty in the way he moves, each action unhurried and filled with quiet confidence.

Stepping into the bath first, Mingyu eases himself into the steaming water with a sigh of contentment, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water. He settles into the tub, the water enveloping him like a warm embrace. His eyes, inviting and filled with affection, lock onto yours as he extends his hand towards you. The look in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent invitation wrapped in love and intimacy.

You take his hand, feeling the warmth and strength in his grip as he helps you into the tub. The water envelops you in a gentle embrace, its warmth soothing your tired muscles. You settle between his legs, leaning back against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting lullaby against your back.

As you relax into his embrace, Mingyu's arms wrap around you, holding you close. His hands begin to gently massage your shoulders, his fingers working out the knots of tension with skillful precision. The sensation is both relaxing and intimate, his touch a balm to your weary soul. You close your eyes, surrendering to the moment, feeling the stress of the day melt away under his tender ministrations.

The soft glow of the bathroom light casts a golden hue over everything, enhancing the sense of intimacy and warmth. Shadows dance along the walls, creating a serene and almost magical ambiance. The only sounds are the gentle sloshing of water and the occasional sigh of contentment from both of you.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice soft and content.

"I love you too," he replies, his lips brushing against your ear.

You stay like that for a while, the water lapping gently around you, the only sounds the occasional drip from the faucet and the steady rhythm of Mingyu's breathing. It’s a perfect moment of peace and connection, wrapped in the comfort and love that only he can provide.

After a few minutes, Mingyu shifts slightly behind you, his movements gentle yet purposeful. "Can you wash my hair?" he asks softly, his voice laced with a boyish charm that makes your heart flutter.

You smile, turning slightly to look at him, your eyes meeting his. "Of course," you reply, your voice warm and affectionate.

He hands you the shampoo, and you pour a generous amount into your palm. Mingyu dips his head back into the water, wetting his hair thoroughly before leaning forward to give you better access. The rich, lathering scent of his shampoo fills the air, mingling with the soothing aromas of the bath salts, creating a calming symphony of fragrances.

Your fingers work through his hair, massaging his scalp with gentle, circular motions. The silky strands slip through your fingers, and you take your time, ensuring each section of his hair is coated with the fragrant lather. Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, his eyes closing as he leans into your touch, his body visibly relaxing under your ministrations.

"This feels amazing," he murmurs, his voice a low, relaxed hum that sends shivers down your spine.

You smile, continuing your careful work. "You deserve it," you say softly. "It's your boyfriend privilege, isn't it?"

Mingyu chuckles, the sound a soft, comforting vibration against your chest. Before he can respond, you pick up the shower head, adjusting the temperature before gently rinsing out the shampoo. Tilting his head back with a gentle hand, you let the warm water cascade through his hair, washing away the suds and leaving his hair clean and soft.

He leans back against you once more, his hair damp and silky against your skin. His eyes are half-lidded with contentment, a serene smile playing on his lips. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude and affection.

"Anytime," you reply, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment create a cocoon around you, shutting out the rest of the world. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, a steady, reassuring rhythm that syncs with your own. Mingyu's hands rest gently on your arms, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin as you both bask in the tranquility of the bath.

The two of you stay like that, cocooned in warmth, the soft glow of the bathroom light casting a golden hue over everything. The sounds of the water and your synchronized breathing create a peaceful ambiance.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 10. Tie-fixer

You were already in your pajamas, nestled comfortably in bed with your book, when Mingyu walked in, still dressed in his suit but without his tie. The crisp white shirt accentuated his broad shoulders, and the slight dishevelment of his attire made him look irresistibly charming. His hair was slightly tousled, a few strands falling over his forehead, adding to his effortlessly handsome appearance. He didn't have to say anything; the moment your eyes met his, you were already putting your book to the side and swinging your legs out of bed, the anticipation of helping him a welcome routine.

"Where's your tie?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your voice, tilting your head slightly.

Mingyu pulls the piece of fabric from his pocket and hands it to you, a weary yet appreciative smile playing on his lips. The tie is cool and smooth in your hands, its silk gliding between your fingers. Rising to your feet, you step close to him, your fingers deftly slipping the tie around his neck. The familiar action feels intimate, almost like a ritual between the two of you, a small moment of connection in your busy lives.

As you slowly begin to tie it, your fingers working methodically, you glance up at him. "How long is the event?" you ask, your voice soft and caring, eyes meeting his with genuine concern.

"I probably won't be home until after two," he says with a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of his long night ahead settles in. The lines of fatigue on his face tug at your heart.

"It's okay. I want you to have fun," you murmur, focusing on the tie but feeling the sincerity of your words. "I'll be busy with dinner and my book anyway."

Mingyu watches you, his eyes softening as he takes in your familiar, comforting presence. "I wish you could come with me," he says quietly, his hands gently resting on your hips as you finish tying the knot. His touch is warm and grounding, a silent promise of his affection.

You tighten the tie and smooth it down, patting his chest gently. "You know I'd love to, but someone's got to hold down the fort here," you reply jokingly, your smile warm and reassuring.

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich, resonating in the quiet of the room. He leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. "What would I do without you?" he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and love.

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a warm embrace. "Let's not find out," you whisper, your cheek pressed against his, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours.

Mingyu hugs you tightly, savoring the closeness, the scent of his cologne mingling with the comforting smell of home. When he finally pulls back, he looks down at you with a mix of love and reluctance. "I really should go," he says, though he doesn't make a move to leave just yet.

"I know," you reply, your fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, tucking it back into place. "You'll be amazing, as always."

"Mm, especially with such a well-tied tie," he smiles playfully at you, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I'm so lucky for my boyfriend privilege."

You chuckle softly, resting your hands on his chest. "Yes, you're very privileged," you tease. "Just remember that when you're out there charming everyone."

Mingyu grins, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. "How could I forget? My number one fan is waiting for me at home."

You roll your eyes, but your smile is fond. "Just don't let it go to your head."

He laughs, the sound warm and rich. "No promises... I'll miss you," he says, his voice softening as he cups your face in his hands.

"I'll miss you too," you reply, covering his hands with yours.

He gives you one last lingering kiss, his lips warm and tender against yours, a promise of his return. "I'll try to be back as soon as I can," he promises, his voice filled with genuine affection, his hand squeezing yours gently.

"I'll be waiting," you say softly, watching as he finally turns to leave, the door clicking shut behind him. The room feels a little emptier without him, but you return to bed, your book waiting patiently. For a moment, you just sit there, feeling the lingering warmth of his presence and the subtle ache of his absence, already looking forward to his return.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ ... 11?

The winter chill had settled in, but the warmth of Valentine's Day wrapped the city in a blanket of love and excitement. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of snow, mingling with the fragrance of roses that seemed to bloom on every corner. Everywhere you looked, couples were bundled up in cozy scarves and gloves, holding hands, sharing tender smiles, and exchanging sweet nothings. The city streets were transformed into a romantic wonderland, with heart-shaped lights casting a soft, warm glow on the cobblestone paths, creating a dreamy ambiance that made everything feel just a little more magical.

Mingyu had planned the entire day with meticulous care, wanting to make every moment special for you. The day began with the gentle sound of his voice waking you, and when you opened your eyes, there he was, holding a tray with breakfast in bed—fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup, topped with fresh berries, and a steaming cup of your favorite coffee. The sweet aroma filled the room, and as you shared the meal, you couldn't help but smile at how perfectly the day had started.

The afternoon was spent strolling through the city, the two of you arm in arm as you visited all your favorite spots. The streets were alive with the hustle and bustle of the holiday, but for you, time seemed to slow down, every moment stretching into something memorable. You laughed over shared memories, pointing out familiar landmarks and reliving inside jokes that only the two of you understood. The cold air bit at your cheeks, but it was no match for the warmth of Mingyu's hand holding yours, or the way his laughter seemed to melt the chill away.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft, golden light over the city, Mingyu surprised you with dinner at the restaurant where you’d had your first date. The sight of the familiar entrance made your heart skip a beat, and when you stepped inside, the ambiance was perfect—low lights that cast a gentle glow over the intimate setting, soft music playing in the background, and a table tucked away in a quiet corner just for the two of you. Mingyu looked absolutely perfect, the flickering candlelight highlighting his features, making his eyes sparkle with a warmth that mirrored the love in your heart.

He was wearing the turtleneck you had gotten him last December, the deep burgundy color standing out beautifully under his sleek black coat. The sight of him, so effortlessly handsome, made you fall in love with him all over again.

The dinner was delicious, every bite savored as you reminisced about that first date and how far you'd come since then. But as the evening went on, you noticed a certain tension in Mingyu—a subtle shift in his demeanor. He was attentive as always, but his hand gripped yours just a little tighter, and his eyes, though filled with affection, seemed to hold something more—an emotion he hadn’t yet put into words.

When dessert was finished and the check was paid, Mingyu suggested a walk through the park. The idea seemed simple, but there was something in his tone that made your heart flutter with anticipation. The park was beautifully decorated for the holiday, with twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the trees and heart-shaped lanterns swaying gently from the branches. The path was dusted with a light layer of snow, which crunched softly underfoot as you walked side by side, the sound mingling with the distant laughter of other couples enjoying the night.

The cold nipped at your nose, but Mingyu’s presence kept you warm. He walked close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours with every step, and as you made your way deeper into the park, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet he had become. His hand, warm and reassuring in yours, was steady, but there was a nervous energy beneath the surface, a sense of something important hanging in the air between you.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the world around you gradually fading into the background as you simply enjoyed being together. The park was peaceful, the night air crisp and clear, with the soft crunch of snow underfoot being the only sound between you. The distant twinkle of lights reflected off the lake's surface, casting a serene, almost magical glow over the scene. The sky above was an expanse of deep navy, dotted with stars that peeked out from behind the clouds, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

As you approached a secluded bench near the lake, Mingyu began to slow down, his footsteps becoming more deliberate. His breath was visible in the cold air, curling upward in soft, white puffs. The quietude around you seemed to intensify, amplifying the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Mingyu stopped walking and turned to face you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lights strung up in the trees, making them look like they were sparkling with unshed emotions.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle, almost tender, as he pulled you closer. Without waiting for your response, he wrapped his coat around you, his touch protective and warm.

"Not with you here," you replied with a smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. But as you looked up at him, you noticed something different, a subtle tension in his expression. "... you're unusually quiet tonight. Is everything okay?"

Mingyu smiled, though there was a trace of nervousness in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability that made your heart skip a beat. "There's something I've been wanting to say all day," he began, his tone serious but laced with affection, each word carefully chosen. "Valentine's Day is all about celebrating love, right?"

You nodded, curiosity piqued, your gaze never leaving his. "Right..."

He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs before he released it slowly, his hands still holding yours, their warmth grounding you both. His expression softened, and the affection in his eyes deepened, becoming almost palpable. "Well, I wanted to celebrate us... You know how I've always said I'm lucky to have boyfriend privileges?" His lips curled into a small, playful smile, the familiar phrase bringing a rush of warmth to your chest. It was an inside joke that had grown between you, a phrase that had come to symbolize the depth of his love.

You laughed lightly, nodding, your heart fluttering. "You've mentioned it a time or two."

"Well," he continued, the playful edge in his voice giving way to something more serious, more profound. His grip on your hands tightened slightly, as if anchoring himself for what he was about to say. "I've been thinking a lot about what that really means. About how much I love you, and how my life has been so much better with you in it. I don't just want boyfriend privileges anymore. I want... something more."

The air around you seemed to still, the world shrinking down to just the two of you. Mingyu's words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you found yourself holding your breath, your heart pounding in anticipation.

"Mingyu... what are you saying?" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you searched his eyes, hoping for confirmation of what you suspected.

"... I want husband privileges," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. The words tumbled out like a secret he had been holding close to his heart, and as they settled between you, the weight of them was almost overwhelming.

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sank in, sending a rush of emotion through your entire being. Before you could fully process what was happening, Mingyu reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. The deep burgundy of the box stood out against the black fabric of his coat, catching the faint light from the lanterns around you. Your breath caught in your throat as he dropped to one knee, the world around you dissolving into a blur. The soft glow of the lights reflected in his eyes, making them shine with a love so intense it took your breath away.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, each word laced with raw emotion. "Will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you, taking care of you, and being your forever? I want to be your husband, not just today, not just tomorrow, but every day for the rest of our lives."

The sincerity in his voice, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly as he held the ring, and the sheer vulnerability in his gaze made tears well up in your eyes. Your hand flew to your mouth in disbelief, your heart pounding in your chest as the magnitude of the moment hit you. The world seemed to stop, the night holding its breath as you looked down at him, his expression filled with hope, love, and adoration.

"Mingyu," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion, each word carrying the weight of your love for him. "Yes. Of course, I'll marry you!"

The tension in his shoulders melted away as his face broke into the widest smile, relief and joy flooding his features. His eyes sparkled with happiness as he carefully slipped the ring onto your finger, his touch gentle and reverent. The ring was perfect—simple, elegant, and exactly what you would have chosen. It glimmered softly in the light, a tangible symbol of the promise you had just made to each other.

Without hesitation, Mingyu stood up, wrapping you in his arms and lifting you off your feet. He spun you around in a joyful whirl, the cold air forgotten as you both laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet park. The night seemed to come alive with your happiness, the trees around you swaying gently as if to share in your joy.

When he finally set you down, his arms remained around you, pulling you into a kiss. His hands cradled your face, his thumbs gently brushing against your cheeks, his touch warm and steady. The tenderness in his grip made your heart swell, and as he leaned in, you could feel his breath mingling with yours, a soft, shared anticipation hanging in the air. When his lips finally met yours, it was as if time itself slowed. The kiss was soft at first, a delicate, reverent connection that conveyed everything words couldn’t.

But then, it deepened, his lips moving against yours with a slow, purposeful intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Each movement was deliberate, filled with a passion that burned through you, igniting every nerve. His kiss wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a promise, a vow sealed with every ounce of emotion he had been holding back. You could feel his love in the way his hands held you, not too tight, but firm enough that you knew he never wanted to let go.

As his lips molded perfectly against yours, the rest of the world faded into oblivion. The cold night air, the distant sounds of the city, even the twinkling lights around you—all of it dissolved into the background, leaving only the warmth of his kiss, the rapid beat of your heart, and the overwhelming flood of emotion between you. It was as if the two of you existed in your own universe, a moment suspended in time where nothing else mattered.

"I love you," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with reverence and devotion, as if the words were sacred.

Tears still glistening in your eyes, you smiled up at him, your heart bursting with happiness. "I love you too, Mingyu. I hope you're ready for all the husband privileges."

He laughed, the sound rich and full of joy, resonating with the happiness that radiated from him. It was a laugh that spoke of a future filled with love, laughter, and countless more moments like this. He pulled you into another embrace, his arms holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. "This is the best Valentine’s Day of my life," he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion.

"It’s just the beginning, baby," you whispered back, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw as you looked up at him, memorizing every detail of his face, every line that spoke of his love for you.

The two of you stood there in the park, wrapped in each other’s arms as the lights twinkled around you, the cold air nipping at your cheeks but failing to penetrate the warmth that enveloped you both. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that felt like it would last forever.

As you walked back home, hand in hand, the silence between you was filled with contentment and the unspoken promises of what was to come. You couldn’t help but glance down at the ring on your finger. The excitement of what lay ahead filled you with warmth, and as you leaned into Mingyu, you knew that your life together would be filled with endless love, laughter, and, of course, husband privileges.

feedback is always welcomed!

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[buckiverse]

☆ warnings: mdni, this is literally just a description of how caleb, zayne, and sylus jerk off and if they watch porn

☆ a/n: I have officially decided all the boys are virgins, so i feel it's only right to write about them yearning for you but also being overcome with guilt <3

☆ Caleb

Caleb has spent so long secretly admiring you, adoring you. All he wants is for you to like him the same—but Caleb is patient. Caleb understands long-suffering and is willing to wait for you. He won’t force you to come to him. You have to want it—this, as he does. With this being said, for a long time, he will not watch porn. He’ll feel bad like he’s betraying you—like you’ll know he lusted after another person. 

When you both go to college, he’d spend more time away from you for the first time, and he wouldn’t even dare to think about letting another woman touch him. He’d even have you act as a liaison, discouraging others from approaching him romantically. That didn’t mean that he hadn’t heard stories of what his friends were doing in bed, the fantasies they were living out—now he was curious. 

He’s not a boy anymore, and this is different—it’s educational, he’d tell himself. When the video loaded, a woman, blindfolded, a vibrator pressed between her folds. Teasing her clit gently. The blush spread on his face furiously as he felt himself getting hard. He watched as she writhed against the toy, but not daring to close her legs as her partner commanded. He could feel the heat spreading across his neck—taking mental notes. He would love to do this to you.

Though he had no experience, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make love to you so good you’d never want to leave. He’d read books and look at fanart, especially of things you like. If you tell him about the latest manhwa you’re reading, best believe he's going to study that shit like no other. You read romance? Well, now he does, too. 

He might even have a whole notepad. Seeing what works, what he likes, what he thinks you might like. He knows you well enough to guess, though he’d definitely ask you directly. 

But when Caleb touches himself, he’d do it with a stolen pair of panties. Sometimes, the washer would eat your socks, underwear, and towels, which was nothing new.

Now, speaking of guilt, he knows this is horrible for him, but he doesn’t know what else to do with himself. But when Caleb saw the pair, unwashed and forgotten in the washer, he couldn’t help but pick them up and stuff them in his pocket. Now he closes his eyes, stroking himself slowly, the underwear in his mouth to muffle the noises from his lips, hoping you wouldn’t hear him. He decided this would do. Using little pieces of you to get himself off. 

He would think of the times before college when he could hear your muffled moans and breaths coming from your room late at night and secretly press his head against your shared wall, trying to listen to you better. He couldn’t wait to use his newfound knowledge on you. He’s just eagerly waiting. 

☆ Zayne

Zayne wants to be romantically involved with you. He desires—yearns for it. But he knows that's not the current state of your relationship and will respect the pace at which you want to take things. His busy life keeps him occupied. He almost relies on it to monopolize his attention since he can’t give it all to you. But it doesn’t stop the guilt he feels—watching porn. 

It takes a lot for him actually to touch himself. He won’t do it often. Yet. It would be an actual internal conflict for him. When he finally decided he was going to watch porn, he would make it quick. The cold metal of his phone in his hand, the dark screen reflecting at him, would almost snap Zayne out of it—but he’s currently wrapped up in his lust. Even so, he still feels like he’s being unfaithful to you—the idea of you more accurately. 

He’ll decide only to watch one while allowing the video to load. He’s just desperate to get off at the moment. It’s almost painful, the way his cock is straining against his slacks. Lately, waiting or sleeping it off hasn’t been working. He’d been so pent up that Zayne stayed hard the whole drive home, and now he gave in. 

It's a short video, but fuck it was hot. The woman squirmed underneath her partner. And Zayne’s pupils blew wide when he saw him suck on her clit, and he could hear the *pop* of his lips detaching from her folds. The groan that fell from her lips when he pushed his tongue inside her—how his arms kept her legs pinned down, though her hips bucked upwards. 

He wanted to do that to you badly. So bad that he closed his eyes, his head thrown back, his lips parted as he leaned back in the chair, jerking himself fast. He had to have you—he couldn’t take it anymore. And he came so fucking hard, and when he finally opened his eyes, he saw the come all over his slacks.

But the guilt was quickly spreading through his chest. It almost feels like he has desires towards the people in the video, but honestly, all he wants is you. He’s never even touched another woman—but still, he felt mortified at the idea that you’d look at him and know what he was doing late at night, imagining it was you there.  

He would never touch another woman. You are all he has wanted since he was a child. Even back then, he only wanted to be connected to you, keeping other girls at a distance even into his adulthood. But maybe now that was catching up to him.

☆ Sylus

Sylus is patient—but only with you. He’d been frustrated for a while. Between your apparent hatred of him and the chaos in the N109 zone, it was slowly eating away at him. Still, no matter how adamant you were about holding your grudge, he’d never be angry with you. Disappointed? Maybe. But never angry.

He loved the game you were playing but wanted—needed—more of you. You were bonded to him, whether you realized it or not. Fated. And the longer you pretended to hate him, the more amused he became. Sylus knew your walls were crumbling, piece by piece.

Like the patient man he is, he waited. Even as you kept those walls standing, even as you unknowingly softened him in ways he never expected—he never sought out distractions. He wouldn’t watch porn. He didn’t need to. First of all, he was busy. Running a city, being a crime boss. You know, important stuff.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t come home late at night, exhausted, missing you. That he didn’t lie in bed on his stomach, the ache of longing settling deep. He might even pull a pillow beneath him, letting it fill the empty space—imagining it was you.

He’d press his weight into it, wishing it were your body beneath him instead. His breath would hitch, a flush burning its way across his cheeks as he rutted against it, slow at first, then more desperate. His fingers would twist into the sheets, knuckles white, your name slipping past his lips like a prayer.

He just felt so desperate. The need for you—your touch, your claim—clawed at his chest, leaving him raw. And when he finally came, hips stuttering in one last, shaky grind, a tear would slip from the corner of his eye.

Sylus doesn’t cry often—if at all. But the thought of you never choosing him? That breaks him.

[kitts-mechanix]

Oh my gosh....I might need a tissue for this....this very much sums up the cycle of abuse in a sibling dynamic.

@lexicorp, @ichbinmeltdown and I have been having a huge discussion about the Seeker Trine and the cycle of abuse, but this comic captures it in a very real way.

The drama in Thundercracker's show acts as a form of foreshadowing. Starscream barges in and starts treating his brother like dirt, and judging from Thundercracker's reaction it's obvious that Starscream has been abusive to him. Starscream only bothers Thundercracker because he needs him to help him defeat Megatron, aka something that will benefit HIM. Thunder isn't eager to do it, Starscream starts rambling off fake apologies and pointing out his brother's shortcomings (eg, "I've forgotten how sensitive you can be but I didn't think you'd actually leave over it"). Now that being said, I don't think Star's comment about how it hurt when Thunder left is entirely untrue, because I do like to think he was confessing at that point, having an inkling of regret--but even then that's only to get what he wants. When Thunder brushes him aside, Starscream cracks and admits he's sorry for everything he's done, names what he did and says he won't do it again. But is he truly sorry? Thunder doesn't buy it so Starscream uses his interest of the Earth to get him to do it. But it's obvious Thunder has reached a point where he doesn't want to keep putting up with Starscream's bullying. No matter how much Star pleads and begs, Thunder finally calls him out on his rash actions, like telling him that he's obsessing over usurping Megatron and shouldn't have tried to mess with him. He's had to watch Starscream constantly destroy himself, and his own brothers, out of self-interest. When Starscream realises he didn't get his way, he went back to blaming his brother and destroys the TV--the one thing keeping Thundercracker sane--out of anger. Thunder points out this is the problem with Star. He's done EVERYTHING for his brother but it's never enough, and he's had enough of trying to please him. Enraged, Star attacks him and calls him a traitor because he knows he can't get Thunder to do what he wants.

Meanwhile Skywarp is just standing there watching the whole thing and not intervening, probably out of fear. Star leaves and makes Skywarp go with him, leaving Thundercracker alone.

I honestly feel bad for all three of them. Starscream was HEAVILY abused by Megatron and he internalises that abuse on his own teammates, and even his own brothers (okay, I know the Seekers being brothers is a fanon thing, but I headcanon it). But to be fair, even his brothers--at least in G1--honestly kind of allow Megatron to abuse Star and even assist him in trying to punish or harm him. And this is likely more because Star treated them like dirt and less because they were afraid of Megatron. WIth this vicious cycle, I can see why Star kicked his brothers off of Astrotrain in the middle of space in TFTM. I firmly believe Megatron is at fault for fracturing the Trine's sibling dynamic with his abusive "leadership", but it was Starscream--the most abused of the three--who carried on that cycle.

Thundercracker is tired of the abuse. Starscream won't stop it because he needs to feel powerful and be in control when Megatron isn't choking the life out of him. Skywarp is too afraid to stop him for fear of getting the laser treatment.

I won't delve too deep into my personal backstory here, but one of the reasons this comic hit me so hard is because the dynamic reminds me of myself and my younger sister. I didn't have a great upbringing that I'm slowly realising was more abusive than I thought. My sister had it much easier since I suspect she was the favourite. To put it lightly, I was like Starscream/Skywarp and she was like Thundercracker. I'm not proud of it, especially looking at this and knowing my sister still sees me as this version of Starscream.

I really want to write a fic where they manage to break the cycle of abuse. I know, it's easier said than done and probably wouldn't work in real life....maybe I just want to give these guys a happier ending with their sibling dynamic 💔

It's a canon event.

[Follow up to this post.]

[peachsayshi]

₊ ⊹ . ݁ THE KING  ₊ ⊹ .

(boxer!sukuna x reader)

⊹ tags: ryomen sukuna x female reader; childhood friends; character mentions: uraume - satoru gojo; unresolved tension; sukuna is oh so in love; fluffy but a mix of angst/smut/fluff; domestic; non curse au; p in v sex; unprotected sex; dry humping; making out; oral sex;

:about: you've known sukuna before he was a world boxing champion, when he was just a scrawny kid who used to hide behind your legs when you were both in kindergarten. sukuna is growing tired of the fame and fortune, and all he really wants is to fall into the arms of the one person who he's always considered his home.

this fic is one shot. I'll happily answer any lore questions regarding boxer!sukuna x reader, but there will not be a part two or more parts of their story. It is a standalone.

wc: 19K+

Sukuna steps out of the shower, his body wound up in a tight coil after the night's fight. He presses the bridge of his nose together to relieve his throbbing head, but his brow is searing with pain. When he opens his eyes he catches a reflection of his self in the bathroom mirror- a split on his bottom lip, a cut on the arch of his right eyebrow and a slight bruise on his left cheek. 

It's rare for him to look this battered after a match. 

He's been untouchable for years, he's almost forgotten what it's like to take a few good hits in the ring. 

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" 

His eyes flicker up toward Uraume, who seems to have appeared out of nowhere.  

He shakes his head at his manager. "Nothing happened, I won. Isn't that a good thing?"

Uraume narrows their gaze, sharp like a sly little fox. They can read Sukuna like a book, but Sukuna chooses to play ignorant and brushes off their knowing stare. 

He knows that the inquisition isn't about the sponsors, the money, or the win. 

He also knows that Uraume never asks questions that they don’t know the possible answer to. 

Thankfully, his manager just sighs. 

"The limo is outside waiting to take you to the party," they state, their heavy exhale indicating that they know Sukuna won't own up to what they are trying to prod out of him. 

"Fuck," Sukuna grumbles. The towel hangs low on his hips, and he throws the one that is around his neck onto the ground. He steps outside to the locker room and proceeds to change. He dries off, puts on his boxers and picks up his black t-shirt before pulling it over his bare chest marked with ink. He then tugs on his jeans, and secures his belt around the waist. "Do I have to go to that?" 

Uraume shrugs, "Don't you want to parade your big victory over Satoru Gojo to the rest of the world?" his manager adds, slipping both hands into their pocket as they stride casually toward Sukuna who is merely trying to gather the rest of  his things. 

The last touch is his signature silver chain necklace. He hooks the accessory around his neck, while mentally preparing himself for the crowd waiting for him outside. For the voices that would be screaming out his name, and the obnoxious paparazzi who can't seem to grasp the concept of personal space. 

They all gawk at him like he's a endangered animal at the zoo.  

His chest seizes at the thought. 

He used to gloat over being in the spotlight. He took to stardom with an extreme sense of pride, but the thought of it right now just makes his skin crawl uncomfortably. 

The only thing that Ryomen Sukuna wanted at this very moment, is to go home in fucking peace. 

He’s given the fans and the world what they wanted. 

"Little shit got what was coming to him," he blurts out in response to Uraume. "It'll take him a while to lick his wounds and get over his broken pride..." 

Uraume chuckles, "and I was worried that he might have actually had an advantage over you..." 

Sukuna swallows the sudden lump in his throat. 

God he was fucking tired. His whole body is aching, begging him to get some much needed rest. He hadn’t trained this hard in a long time. The strict diet, the isolation, the strenuous days in the gym and in the training ring slowly started filtering into him in doses. 

"Almost," he admits quietly, a little bitter over the reality of the situation that he was close to losing. "He's good for his age. Really good actually." 

Uraume's face falls at that. "You don't sound like yourself, my king," they tease half-heartedly, addressing Sukuna by yet another title which he earned in the ring. 

"The King", "The Beast", “The Champ”, “Monster of The Ring”…

There was a time when he was younger, when the fire for the fight burned inside him with such intense conviction, that he found dignity in the titles that he's earned from every match. The thrilling sensation of him standing in the middle of the ring, his hands raised with victorious joy as he looked down at his opponent while the crowd would cheer for him like he was a figure of the divine, used to mean a great deal to him. 

But those titles feel…hollow. An old skin which Sukuna unknowingly shrugged off without even realizing it. 

"I'm just exhausted," he breathes with a hint of frustration, giving Uraume a reply after allowing his mind to drift for a few seconds. "I've got a raging headache and my shoulder is killing me." 

He slings his bag over his good arm, before turning to face his manager. 

The pair walk down towards the end of the hallway, and Sukuna can already hear the muffled voices from the press that have slowly gathered inside. He elongates his spine naturally as he holds a domineering pose. He quietly huffs out a breath and tries to steady the uneasiness coursing through his veins. The second the press lay their eyes on him, they stampede towards Sukuna like dogs off their leash. A flash of white and blue flickers around him, disorienting him for a single moment. 

"Hey, champ! How does it feel to knock out Satoru Gojo after everything he said this season?" 

"Way to prove that you're still The Beast of the Ring! What's next for our King?" 

"You've held your championship title for ten consecutive years! How do you go up from here?"

"Sukuna! Sukuna! Is it true that you've just locked in a multi-million dollar deal with Nike?"  

Uraume steadies the crowd, protectively standing in front of Sukuna as they gesture everyone to calm down. 

Despite the sheer difference in their size, Uraume has a natural way of commanding a room. 

That's one thing Sukuna has always been grateful for regarding his manager; Uraume always looked out for his best interest first.  

"Hello, everyone," they politely speak, their voice calm and pleasant. "While we appreciate the enthusiasm; our champion, Ryomen Sukuna, will only be making a single statement. He's had a long night and needs his rest," they announce, before looking over their shoulder and giving Sukuna a nod of approval to say what he needs to say. 

The man is thankful for Uraume every single day. He already informed them earlier that he wasn't interested in any post-match interview or conversations with the press, and Uraume happily obliged by accepting the privacy that he desperately needed. 

Sukuna tightens his grip around the gym bag over his shoulder. He stares at the small audience before him before clearing his throat to speak. "Young fighters like to run their mouth. I know because I used to be one of them. It's easy to be all bark and no bite. But in my case, I came out teeth first-" he states with a patronizing tone, noticing the press eagerly hang onto his every word and even laughing at his snide remark. 

They are waiting for a brutal comment from the badass himself, for him to add the cherry on top of all the shit-talk he’s already dished out. 

But Sukuna acknowledges that there is no place for it now. 

He doesn't need to add more to the hurt he's already caused to Satoru Gojo. 

Everything was settled in the ring, and now it was over. 

"However, I have to admit that this was one of the best fights of my career. I had fun. He's been a thorn by my side but I respect Satoru, and I know he has a brilliant career on the horizon. That's all I have to say about that for now. Have a good night." 

He steps away from the press, who trail at his feet like a pack of rats rattling off question after question as Uraume tries to console their demands. His manager delays their footing, all the while Sukuna finds the rest of his entourage at the arena exit. 

A string of bodyguards help him get through the second crowd of loyal fans who have gathered. They are waving phones in the air, begging for photos and videos. Sukuna obliges with a few, trying his best to fight off the shakes that's starting to make his hand tremble slightly. People lift up their shirts, flash their cleavage and pull out posters, bras and clothes for him to sign. He does so, his signature faltering from a clean string of letters to a fast doodle of his name. His fans offer him flowers, art, and mementos which he takes, and whatever extra he can't carry he hands off to one of his guards. When he's finally had enough of giving himself to the fans, he bids everyone a wave as his bodyguards escort him to the private parking lot in the back of the arena. 

Sukuna doesn't even realize how hard his heart had started hammering until he's embraced back into the quiet again. He feels incredibly uncomfortable in his own skin, and he isn't sure if it's the apprehension or the adrenaline wearing off from the fight. The phone in his pocket buzzes, probably Uraume wanting to make sure he's made it safely to his vehicle, but he can’t bring himself to answer the call. 

"Sir," one of his bodyguards states, "There's a VIP who is expecting to see you..." 

"So?" Sukuna scoffs, the black Mercedes in the distance a sanctuary. "I don't want to fucking see them." 

"Well, you see, they insisted. They weren't taking no for an answer." 

"And you would be shit at your job if you just let them roll over you like that," Sukuna begrudgingly replies. 

Sukuna wasn't particularly fond of the VIP guest lists. A majority of them were people who wanted to fawn over him, or simply weasel their way into his pants. The other half were people with deeper pockets trying trying to bargain him into fixing fights so that they can win big bucks on their bets.

Sukuna did not have the time or patience for the latter, and even the former as well. 

Especially tonight. 

"Actually, Sir, she's waiting for you as we speak-" the bodyguard stammers, having to look up when he addresses Sukuna. 

The champion stops abruptly to give him a puzzled stare and a piece of his mind over his bodyguard’s stupidity, but his attention is sharply drawn back to the car when he notices a figure step out of the Mercedes. 

You're wearing a denim skirt, a fitted white top and a pair of black boots. Sukuna’s heart skips a beat, noticing that your hair looks a little different from when he last saw you. A sparkle of silver glitters on your neck that matches his own chain, and you beam at him with a bright smile that steadies his soul.

  The click of your heels echo a little louder from the distance as you approach him, waving your fingers delicately in his direction to say your first hello. Sukuna's feet moves faster than the rest of him. He drops his bag off his shoulder, the gifts in his hands splay across the concrete ground and he scoops you up in his arms before spinning you in the air the second he wraps his arms around you. 

You giggle at his greeting, your body trapped in a blanket of muscle and cologne. Your fingers thread between the strands of his red hair, tears pricking your eyes at the sight of your best and oldest friend. 

Sukuna squeezes you tightly, "they should have just told me it was you by name," he exhales with a hint of annoyance, then carefully places you back down to rest your feet on the ground. 

You laugh under your breath, "Don't worry, I gave them hell for it. I told them that I'm the only VIP who mattered considering I have been on that list the longest...." 

You try to loosen your grip but Sukuna tenses up, so you ease back into his hug. 

He didn’t want to let go just yet. 

And truthfully, neither do you. 

"Hi, princess," he whispers in your ear, his voice deep and thick with fatigue. 

"Hey, 'kuna" you reply softly, your fingers curling around the back of his neck, as your heart beats heavily against his now relaxed chest. 

₊ ⊹ .

The light from the car's backseat illuminates Sukuna's ruggedly handsome face. You cup his jaw between your fingers, and lightly trace your thumb over the cut on his swollen lip. Your eyes track upward and you wince at the gash across his brow. 

"He got a few good hits on you didn't he?" you point out, not as a question necessarily but more as a statement of the obvious. 

"A few good hits doesn't mean shit..." 

"When was the last time you got hit this bad in the ring?" you press. 

"I fight for a living, someone was bound to land a punch someday. Besides, it's not a concern. I had my good luck charm tonight without even knowing it..." he responds with a wolfish grin. 

You jab him playfully in the chest. "You're not made of steel you know? You had me concerned for a second..." 

"I roughed him up too," Sukuna states with a pout, "you're all acting like he walked away completely unscathed..." 

He slings an arm over your shoulder, his strength pushing your body weight to lean closer against his side. You shake your head with disapproval as you press the button to switch off the light above you both. 

The city moves past you in a haze, but you can't stop taking in the man before you. 

Ryomen Sukuna. 

The first time you met him was on the playground of your old kindergarten. You were all outdoors, and you noticed that these two bigger kids were knocking him around. The kindergarten teachers weren't anywhere to be seen. At the clear imbalance of power and with your sheer sense of goodwill, you decided to go over there and help. 

Sukuna had just joined your class only three weeks before that. He was the smallest kid, and had a hard time keeping up with everyone else. Everyone made fun of him and called him "chili crisp"  because of his hair. They teased him constantly for how he looked, how he dressed, and how he spoke and simply refused to play with him. 

Being young and impressionable, you never engaged. But you didn't do anything to help Sukuna either. It made you ache seeing him treated this way, and this time you weren't just going to let it slide anymore. 

Sukuna did nothing to deserve this treatment in the first place. 

However, despite his small stature, Sukuna was a fighter even then. 

He kept getting up even if it meant that he would just be shoved down once again. 

You remember walking up to both those kids and grabbing them by the collar. You yanked them off, placing yourself in between them and Sukuna before scolding them both for their terrible behavior. 

"I'm gonna tell!" you squealed with a furious point of your finger, threatening them with snitching words. "And if I ever see you hurt him, I'm going to make sure everyone knows how bad you are! And you’ll get into so much trouble with the teachers!”

You sharply kicked them both in their heels, and watched the kids scamper off, a little more intimidated now that someone they deemed as an equal threat entered the playing filed. Once they were gone, you turned toward Sukuna who was planted on the concrete ground. He was wiping away his snotty nose and trying to hide his tears. 

You scratched the back of your head nervously, your throat all itchy and tight from the sight of him. 

"You're-you're not a chili crisp," was all you could think of telling him in that moment. You gave him a small but kind smile, before offering him both your hands and helping him on his feet. 

He was a whole head and shoulder shorter than you were back then. His clothes barely hung onto his body. He had to fix up his t-shirt and readjust his shorts. 

"I know that," he answered with irritation, and a scowl that never seemed to have left him. 

You assisted in brushing the dust off him. 

"Your name is Ryo-men Su-ku-na?" you asked, breaking down the pronunciation of his name to make sure you said it correctly. 

He nodded his head quietly. 

You gave him another tender grin, and reached out for his hand before introducing yourself. 

"I know who you are, I'm not stupid." 

You frowned at his sharp response. "I never said you were." 

The two of you stood there facing one another in awkward silence, unsure of how to proceed from the moment. 

You shifted your weight from one foot to the next, kicking a random little rock on the ground. "Those kids are stupid." 

"Yeah, they are." He grumbled through gritted teeth. 

"So, if I'm not stupid and you're not stupid, why don't we be friends?" 

Sukuna's eyes widened slightly at your words, like he couldn't believe what you said. 

"Friends?" 

"Yeah!" you squeaked with a little more excitement. "You'll have someone to sit next to and play with every day!" 

He nervously gripped the hem of his tee. 

He never gave you a real response, but the next day he showed up and took a seat right next to you in class.

You were both six years old, and have been insuperable ever since. 

₊ ⊹ .

You press your cheek against his broad shoulder, and Sukuna sighs as his body melts into the leather seat underneath him. His hand gently rubs your own shoulder, with the two of you sitting in silence together as you have done many times before. He instructs the driver to take you both back to his penthouse, disregarding some after party that he's expected to attend. 

At the call, your heart flutters with anticipation because it was a clear sign indicating that he wanted to be alone with you. 

You shivered thinking of the last time that happened. 

It's hard to believe that this version of Sukuna co-exists with the person you've known for a majority of your life. 

The day after he sat next to you in kindergarten, everything changed for the better. 

Sukuna still grimaced at everyone else, but kids no longer picked fights with him and he had a warming smile that was reserved for you alone. 

Whether in class or outside of school, you both spent every spare moment that you could together. You were glued to the hip like two peas in a pod. Your parents adored him, doted on Sukuna despite him resisting their affection. It was only one night, when he was having yet another sleepover at your place, where you finally asked him how is he able to hang out with you all the time. 

Sukuna revealed a truth that broke your heart entirely. 

“Here is better than being home. Usually it's just me..." 

"Just you?" you whispered innocently, "but your mom and dad?" 

You watched him shrink into his blanket with uncertainty. "Don't know. I live with my Grandpa. He works a lot..." 

It's only later in your life where you learnt the full story. 

Sukuna’s parents abandoned him, leaving him with his grandfather to pursue reckless adventures together. At the time Sukuna was only three years old. His grandfather worked hard to provide for the boy, but he was an aging old man and didn’t expect to be responsible for such a young child. Sukuna's grandfather always showed deep gratitude to your parents for helping out and providing Sukuna with another safe space that gave him some much needed stress relief on his end. 

His daughter eventually returned, in tow this time with Sukuna’s half brother Yuji. His dead beat dad was gone for good. But by then Sukuna was already fourteen. 

He’s always had a complex relationship with his family, but things seem to be better with his brother. The two of them could pass off as identical twins, it was almost scary how alike they looked. 

You loved Yuji; he was a living antithesis of his older brother. Always perky, smiling so bright it’s like the sun follows his footsteps. 

Sukuna, on the other hand, carried the shadow and gloom of a waning moon. 

Your childhood and early adolescent years were precious, cherished moments and memories that solidified the strength of your relationship. But despite everything, you were the only person who saw how bright Sukuna's own light could shine. 

The driver finally parks the car in front of one of the most expensive buildings in Tokyo. Sukuna gets out first, and extends a hand into the vehicle to help grab yours. The touch sends tingles up your arm, but you do your best not to read into the reaction just yet. 

The two of you enter the building, passing the security who simply tilts their head in acknowledgment, but from your peripheral vision you notice Sukuna’s eyes shifting around his environment.

“No cameras,” you reassure him with a squeeze to his bicep. “No paparazzi…” 

Sukuna was aware of what he signed up for with fame, but that did not mean that you had to be subjected to the aggressive violation of privacy. 

And after everything that happened, after the horrific clashing of both your worlds, he felt himself breathe a huge sigh of relief. 

“They probably think I am showing up to the victory party,” he answered with gratitude.

The elevator rings, the doors opening as you both step inside. 

Sukuna hits the button to the penthouse suite, and from the way his shoulders slump you can tell there is something off about his demeanor. 

This isn’t the Ryomen you knew who walked away from a fight with the buzz of the winner. 

He’s dimmed. 

A bulb that’s flickering. 

Something’s wrong, you thought, looping your arm around his and keeping your eyes on the numbers increasing as you swallow your concern. 

₊ ⊹ .

Puberty didn’t hit Sukuna; it struck him like a brick over his head. 

At sixteen years old, Sukuna was no longer the loser kid that everyone picked on. He was a tower, a watchful pillar that looked down on those around him with an intimidating stare. All of a sudden this scrawny boy shot up like a tree, his body springing into a new version of himself. His voice broke, dropping octaves lower than the soft tone of what it used to be. His shoulders broadened, lean muscle forming since he spent most of his time wrestling and boxing.  

He became the bad boy that everyone blushed and fawned over. 

The athlete that people admired.

His coaches loved him - called him a prodigy, and a star of the future.

Sukuna carried himself with plenty of self respect, and was extremely well spoken. Outside of his athletics he enjoyed reading and learning history, and his venture into sports only happened because it kept him busy and gave him some much needed space away from his home. He was readjust to a new life with his mom back in the picture, and a brother who was five years younger than him. At first it was simply an escape, but once he settled into the atmosphere of it all, it gave him a sense of structure. Sukuna was diligent about his training and academics, outsmarting and outplaying almost everyone around him. His motivation was fueled with every game and competition, and you quickly saw that Sukuna only had the expectation of being a winner and nothing else. 

Navigating your teenage years was a bit tough for both of you. 

It began with one sleep over just a year prior, the moment where you both recognized that things couldn’t progress as casually as they used to. You woke up tangled in each other’s arms, hyper aware of your bodies and the parts that were blooming. 

Sukuna slept on the sofa every sleep over after that. 

Thanks to your eruptive hormones, the both you bickered often and frequently. As you and Sukuna started understanding your own senses of selves, a hint of distance started to grow. For a long time the two of you only ever had each other, but with Sukuna now a part of the athletic group and you falling in line with your own little clique, the both of you were finding some time away from each other and identifying who you were without the other person around. 

However, you always came back to one another, like two little magnets seeking each other out. 

It’s all you’ve ever known since you were six. 

One afternoon, while hanging out in the school’s basketball court, Sukuna turned to face you as you paced behind him while he was throwing some shots for fun.

“They think you’re my girlfriend,” he casually stated, referencing his new set of friends who always studied you with intense curiosity. 

Your face burned multiple degrees hotter than it should. 

“W-what?” You stammered. 

“Yeah,” he answered nonchalantly, and you watched him dribble the basketball as the awkwardness settled.  

“That’s…that’s weird…” was all you could think of adding on. “You told them I am not, right?” 

Sukuna furrowed his brows and hummed. But he nodded his head. 

“Just because we are friends that doesn’t automatically mean that we are “boyfriend and girlfriend”,” you insisted, using air quotes to emphasize your statement. 

Sukuna turned so his back was to you, and tossed the ball directly into the ring. 

“That’s what I told them…” he reassured, but something about his tone didn’t sit right with you. 

The summer that followed - Sukuna’s grandfather, mom and brother took a trip away. Sukuna declined to join since he was participating in a tournament. After his wrestling team came out victorious, he decided to throw a secret bash at his place to celebrate. 

You were there helping him hide away all the fragile items, before staring at him in shock when he placed a few beer cans on his kitchen counter. 

“How did you get that?” You asked in a low whisper, afraid that you both might somehow get caught for doing something that you aren’t supposed to. 

He just gave you a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, Princess…” 

That nickname stuck on you like glue. It’s something Sukuna called you with annoyance when you were both kids, and you used to call him an angry dragon in return. Even though you stopped using that silly term, for some reason Sukuna’s pet name morphed into one of endearment and affection which he kept using. 

“It’s just the team and a couple of girls that the guys have been trying to get with…” he ensured, “The guys wanted the beers, so I managed to sneak some from my grandfather’s stash…” 

“And what if he finds out?” 

Sukuna laughs, “that old man can’t even remember what day it is. I’m sure he won’t notice a few beer cans missing…” 

That night you had your first secret party, your first sip of beer and your first kiss; it was one of those core memories that lingered that was reminiscent of the adrenaline rush from living out the freedom of being young with no responsibilities. You don’t remember who it was who called out the idea of playing seven minutes in heaven, but suddenly all of you were sitting in a circle spinning an empty bottle on Sukuna’s grandfather’s worn rug. Your heart sat at your throat, your eyes fixated on the piece of twirling glass, half wondering who it would land on. You watched as couples disappeared into Sukuna’s room, everyone snickering in a circle thinking about what the potential couples could possibly be doing. 

The boys were crude with their commentary, and the girls giggled with feign disgust. 

Some people came out looking displeased, clearly unamused by what they experienced, while others had a look of euphoria on their faces. 

When the bottle landed on you, the first person you found yourself seeking out was Sukuna. 

However, the other end of the bottle wasn’t pointing to him, but to one of his teammates. 

His friend’s eyes widen with intrigue, a cute smile forming on his pouty lips. 

Your own cheeks warmed with curiosity. 

He helped you onto your feet, but the two of you were struck with an abrupt question that had you pausing your movements. 

“Do you want to do this?” Sukuna pointedly asked, his focus on you alone and no one else. 

There was a grave but serious look resting firmly on his face. 

Something about his stare made you uncomfortable, though you couldn’t place why. With the eyes of everyone else on you and his teammate, you instantly wanted to divert the intense attention elsewhere. 

“Of course!” You said with a casual shrug, then grabbed his teammate’s hand and led him into Sukuna’s bedroom. 

You’ve been in here countless of times, never once feeling uncomfortable in this space. But this time, you were quite aware of the state of his bed, of the slightly rumpled sheets that were tugged from edge to edge. Your mouth went dry, your body suddenly trying to recollect every movie, book and comic that explained or depicted the intimacies between two people. 

Two hands touched your waist, spinning you on your feet. 

“Time’s ticking,” his friend said. “We shouldn’t waste it…” 

“I’ve never done this before…” you blurted out. 

“I haven’t either…” he answered kindly, and that made you feel better. 

“Okay…” you said, before placing your hands awkwardly on his shoulder. 

“Let’s just start with a kiss…” he suggested and then leaned forward. 

You were frozen then, unsure of what to do. You stood there with wide eyes as you felt his lips on yours, the sensation making your belly tingle. 

He pulled away. 

“That wasn’t too bed…” you admitted and he laughed. 

“Do you want to try?” He asked. 

Your first initiated kiss wasn’t magical, nor was it horrendous as some of your other friends experienced. Even now when you think about it - the only memory that hits you is one of innocent exploration. It took a minute for you to get comfortable with his prodding tongue, to figure out the clash between lips and teeth, and to allow his wet muscle to access our mouth and glide over your own. The sensation reminded you of sticky, tacky popsicles that clung to your lips in summers past. 

It was fun…until a loud bang startled you both, making you split from each other’s arms like opposing forces. 

“Time’s up,” Sukuna growled, before barging in without even so much as asking if you were decent like he did with the other pairs. 

The look he gave his teammate was terrifying, even you couldn’t help but gulp. 

His friend let out a nervous giggle, scratching the back of his head as he scurried his way out. “Damn, that was fast!” He tittered nervously, his voice cracking slightly towards the end. 

Sukuna narrowed his gaze as he watched him leave the room. Meanwhile, you both stood there facing each other, noticing his nostrils flaring as your breath rose and fell. 

“What?” You questioned, returning his hard stare with an even stronger glare. 

He huffed out a breath through his nose, “are you okay?” he asked, in an attempt to compose his clearly frazzled state. 

“Yes!” You blurted back, a little shaken. “Was that even seven minutes?” 

Sukuna grimaced, holding onto your eyes before he stormed out of his room, scoffing with annoyance at your response. 

Neither of you really spoke about the awkwardness of that moment, and instead carried into the heat of that summer like nothing even happened. 

But, what did hurt you after that, was that Sukuna never invited you to any of his “parties” again. 

He fibbed and said it was just “a team thing”, but you eventually heard about the other attendees at the party, and only through the grapevine found out about Sukuna’s first kiss.

It felt like a betrayal in its own way, this sudden shakiness in your friendship as uncertain as tectonic plates waiting to crash into a shattering earthquake. 

You called him one night to confront him, asking him why he wouldn’t tell you about his first kiss when you both should be able to talk about everything. But that conversation just resulted in an argument, a blow out that felt like a collapse in your world. 

You both didn’t speak to each other until the end of that summer, when Sukuna finally waved the white flag by crawling to your front door late one evening with some ice cream as a peace offering. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, while you both sat on the sidewalk, scooping wooden spoons into the tub of vanilla with chocolate chips. 

It’s the first time he’s ever apologized to you. 

Even when you were kids, Sukuna refused to ever say he was sorry. 

He would just pout angrily before over compensating with his sweetness to show you that he didn’t mean it. 

But not this time. 

You licked the vanilla off the spoon, biting down on the rich chocolate chunks, and hoping that the tears wouldn’t fall from your eyes from how your chest swelled at his remorse. 

Sukuna draped an arm around your shoulder, “I hate that things have been weird between us.” 

“You made them weird…” you mumbled and he just sighed. 

“‘Yes,” he begrudgingly admitted, “yes, I did…” 

You turned to look up at him, and he gave you a solemn smile. 

“I’m a little possessive of you, I realize…” he explained, his lips forming into that small frown, mirroring his childlike expression. 

“A little?” you answered back with a snarky tone. 

“You’re my best friend,” he admitted, his eyes downcast with regret. “You have always been my person.” 

“You’re my person too, ‘kuna…” you murmured, “but…but being best friends means that we have to trust each other. That we can’t just…hurt each other. That we should stop being honest or talking to one another when things get bad…that we can’t face things that make us…I don’t know, feel weird and stuff…” 

He rested his chin on the top of your head, the two of you finally bridging the gap of what seemed to be the first real challenge of your friendship. 

“It was a shit kiss…” he sighed, “I was just too fucking embarrassed to tell you.” 

You gazed up at him from underneath your lashes. 

“Why?” You said with a light laugh.  

Sukuna’s attention dipped to your mouth for a split second and back to your eyes again. “I don’t know. You just seemed to have enjoyed yours in comparison. I felt like I lost a game or something. I didn’t want to admit that mine was awkward and wet and just…not fucking good…” 

You laughed at that. 

“Everything with you is a competition…” 

“Not everything…” 

You nudged his stomach playfully with your elbow. “Do you remember when we played Mario Kart for the first time? When you lost three rounds in a row and nearly ripped my head off?” 

“How was I supposed to know you are freakishly good at that game?” 

You laughed, “I stay the reigning champion of rainbow road!” 

“You stay a pain in my ass…” 

You rolled your eyes, “a pain in your ass that will never leave you, so stop complaining about it…” 

Sukuna exhales, “It was…a bad kiss,” he admitted shyly, “She was so damn skittish, and I think I was too. I didn’t…I didn’t think it would be so…ugh. It was just not the right person…” 

“Or maybe you were just nervous…” you answered honestly. 

Sukuna shook his head. 

“No, I know it wasn’t the right person…” he said with confidence. 

You unraveled from his hold for a moment to look deep into those heated eyes. 

“Can I say something?” he questioned, the tips of his ears turning slightly red, a blush you’ve seen before but never realized how adorable it actually looked on him until this moment. 

“Anything”

“I don’t want you to think I am being weird or take this the wrong way…” Sukuna explained, pausing for a single breath before continuing. “I just thought the first person I would’ve kissed would have been…well, you… 

The world went still in that moment. All you could hear was the soft rustle of the trees in the distance, and all you could see was the open vulnerability of Sukuna’s heart resting on his face. 

It’s incredibly rare for him to even show it, your friend guarding that part of himself with such conviction. 

“Oh…” 

“But then I realized that you’re not supposed to be kissing your best friend,” he added on, stomping on the spark that flickered between you both before it even had a chance to even light. 

“No,” you agreed quickly, your eyes darting to the tub of ice cream. You pressed the back of your spoon into the creamy texture, doing your best to ignore the sudden pulse in your chest. 

“My second kiss was a lot better that’s for sure…” Sukuna rambled on, digging his spoon around yours as he scooped himself another serving of ice cream. “Way better actually…and on round three I think I got the hang of it…” 

You swallowed the tiny lump in your throat. “I don’t need to know the gross details, please,” you implored, though your stomach rolled with a hint of nausea at the reality that he’s kissed more people than you expected. 

You never admitted it out loud, but the confession made you a little jealous. 

If you were an option in his head…why didn’t he just ask? 

₊ ⊹ .

. 

Sukuna lost his virginity to a freshman college student a year later when he snuck into a party with two of his former teammates. You lost yours on the night of your graduation party to the same boy you kissed for the first time. You and Sukuna were expected to attend the same university (with him obtaining a full scholarship for academic excellence), but your friend had deviated from the shared path after being scouted. The two of you commuted to see each other often, with you visiting him when he was training and him stopping by the campus whenever he had free time. 

You and Sukuna knew about the other person’s intimate lives from the stories you shared, and despite continuously being plagued with constant accusations of being “more than friends”, you both agreed never to allow that discomforting prospect to intervene with your friendship again after that terribly awkward summer.

Rather than ignore the fact that you were growing to be even more beautiful by the day, Sukuna just became extremely blunt around you. He didn’t hide his eyes checking you out, noticing how your curves were starting to fill out and how you began to mature into your own features. He confidently spoke about how attractive you were, and often boosted your ego in ways that only enhanced your own confidence. 

You enjoyed reminding him that once upon a time he thought “girls were disgusting” and “looked funny”. 

“Let’s not forget I am the first guy to marry you,” he joked, recalling a game you both used to play where you pretended to be characters from a fantasy realm. 

“Actually you were the first dragon to marry me,” you clarified, because Sukuna loathed the prospect of playing a prince. “I don’t really think it counts…” 

“Maybe not - but all these guys fawning over you are going to find out you’re some kind of monster fucker and start running in the other direction…” 

It was safe to say that the banter between you both never changed.

You on the other hand, were recognizing just how handsome Sukuna was becoming too. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times up until this point, but something about watching the definition of muscle build into his new physique, and noticing the way manhood slowly enveloped his body, began to hit you in different ways. This was especially noticeable when you would watch him train in the ring, paying attention to the fact that Sukuna wasn’t built just like any average person. It didn’t even occur to you how incredibly strong he had become until he would lift or move your body around like you were weightless and not a living, breathing human with physical mass. 

One evening, while you both were walking back to your dorm from a dinner at a cheap ramen bar, Sukuna had the audacity to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder because “you couldn’t keep up with his pace”. 

All of a sudden, you were acutely aware that the scrawny boy that you used to protect was now all grown up. 

Sukuna morphed into brick and stone, while you were merely glass. 

For some reason, it put a strain on your heart. 

You guys really weren’t kids anymore. 

This was only solidified a year and a half into his career when Sukuna fought in his first professional tournament at twenty years old. The man dominated the ring against his opponent. He broke the record of the most knock outs and became a household name almost overnight. 

“The King”

Time moved at double speed after that. 

Your fingers that were clinging to bits of nostalgia weren’t able to keep them from it slipping between your grasp. Things were happening in a blur, and the sudden shift in Sukuna’s world felt like a birthing black hole in your own.

The night before Sukuna was flying off on his first world tour, the two of you were cooped up in your dorm room, snuggled underneath the blanket like you used to be when you were both kids. 

This time, it wasn’t awkward. 

You had both experienced love and lust in different ways up until that point. 

You knew that being this close didn’t have to mean anything risqué. 

You were comfortable with yourselves far more than you were five years ago.

“It’s going to be weird not seeing you all the time,” you whispered with a sniffle, while Sukuna traced the shell of your ear. 

Two silver chains mirrored one another, one on your neck and the other on his. It was your parting gift to him, a reminder to keep a piece of each other around when you couldn’t be together. 

You assumed Sukuna would find it stupid, but instead he clasped the necklace around himself before doing the same for you in silent contemplation. 

“I’ll keep in touch, brat” he soothed, but you could hear the ache in his voice too.

You circled your arms around his neck, eagerly clinging onto him as closely as you could for the little time you had. 

“I am really proud of you though,” you spoke, your shaky breath against his collar bone, a tear rolling down your cheek as you inhaled the herby scent of his soap. 

“I’m paying off your loans when the money really starts rolling in,” he chuckled against your temple. 

You shook your head with disapproval. “Just buy your grandpa something nice,” you insisted. “And make sure to spoil Yuji…” 

“That kid’s already spoiled…”

“But he’s a sweetheart,” you emphasized, “and I know he’s probably going to miss you more than me…” 

Sukuna hummed. “I wouldn’t be here without you.” 

You tilted your chin up as he dropped his head down, your noses merely inches apart. You relaxed the muscles on your face, your thumb reaching to smooth the crease from between his brows. 

“God knows what would have happened if you didn’t save my sorry ass back when we were kids…” he said with an easy smile. 

“You would have eventually fought back,” you giggled, “besides, you don’t need me protecting you anymore…” you pointed out, your voice a little breathless, and your anxious mind running on the concern of if you might even fit into Sukuna’s new life after this. 

He wrapped his arms around you, bringing you into the seam of his frame. 

“I always need you,” he confessed, and those words were enough to make you break as the pain of his departure finally collided into you. 

₊ ⊹ .

Sukuna went off to having an extremely successful boxing career. 

At twenty-two, he had turned into one of the hottest sports stars the industry has ever seen. 

He had win after his win under his belt, and the second he partnered with Uraume it was a match made in heaven. 

He was insanely good, and with Uraume by his side, he was now unstoppable. 

You were provided tickets to any of his fights, accompanied with private transportation and accommodation if necessary. Sukuna always made sure that you were well take care of, and you always accepted because it was the only time you were able to actually see him. Those few days were precious together, before you had to depart and return to the real world once again. Each of Sukuna’s fights was a mesmerizing experience. There was something about his flow in the ring that managed to make everything else around him blur. 

He was strong, but agile. 

Brutal but swift with his movements. 

He moved with regal precision, a dancer that understood the rhythms of strength. 

Everyone challenged him, but all of them failed. 

Ryomen Sukuna was a force to be reckoned with. 

Despite the distance, you and Sukuna always made a conscious effort at keeping in touch with each other. You may not be physically there in each other’s presence, but not a day went by without a phone call or multiple texts.

At twenty-seven, Sukuna was at the peak of his stardom. Your best friend found himself tangled between the world of fame and fortune, alongside his old life of normalcy and humble peace. He made good on his promises; setting up a trust fund to ensure that Yuji was well taken care of in every capacity. He paid off all your loans in secret because he knew you would never accept it from him upfront. He bought his grandfather a home in Osaka for him to retire to. And his peace offering to his mom was renovating their old, broken home into something new and vibrant for her to live her life happily now that she seemed to have finally settled down in her third marriage. Sukuna even offered to take care of his step brother, Choso. They may not have been personally close, but he was grateful that Choso was keeping a watchful eye on Yuji. 

Your own life was starting to unfurl as well - you had graduated university, were experiencing your first serious relationship, navigating various friendships and landing your first job. It all felt normal compared to Sukuna, but the man never minimized your experiences. 

When you were together, it’s like nothing had even changed, but the moment your realities bled into each other, it was a constant reminder of how just how far apart your lives actually were. 

You were harassed by the paparazzi who constantly overstepped. 

Sukuna’s boundaries were crossed by the people you knew because everyone wanted a moment with the star. 

You found yourself in environments with the rich whose beauty, wealth and status seemed far out of your reach. 

Sukuna found himself being treated more like an object than a person. 

And yet, you both seemed to be settling down into your own versions of the life you were creating - always weaving the other person in no matter the obstacle.

At twenty-eight, Sukuna had earned more money than he could even imagine, and was still somehow only moving onwards and up. He was plastered on every magazine cover, was the the center of attention on social media by his most dedicated and loyal fans. He was stalked and obsessed over, admired and feared. Networks wanted to feature him on shows, movies and every talk show. The man was a composition of everything that people were projecting onto him. 

He had become an untouchable to the eyes of every living mortal. 

But to you, and just you - he would always be the little boy who was far too small for this big world. 

After years of flings with influencers, models, and high end socialites - it seemed that Sukuna was finally settling down with one of the top actresses in the industry. The moment the two of them were caught kissing at a party, their secret was revealed to the public. 

You, however, knew all the details of the ways in which Sukuna was slowly wooing her. 

At this point you’ve both grown tolerant of hearing about the other person’s love life. And at this time especially, you weren’t affected by Sukuna’s first serious relationship because you and your boyfriend were discussing the possibility of marriage which felt close on the horizon.  You had just bought your first house, and was considering the big gesture of having him move in with you. You had gotten an incredible promotion at work, and for the first time you felt a sense of stability that you had never really experienced before. 

“We should have dinner together!” You offered one night to Sukuna over the phone. 

“The four of us?” He questioned. 

“Yeah, I mean…you know Sousuke really well…” 

“Yeah, and he hates me…” 

“But I haven’t met Mei yet…and no, Sousuke doesn’t “hate you”…”

“I hate to break it to you, Princess. But the guy can’t stand me…” 

You glanced towards your boyfriend who was sitting on the sofa, his attention on the television show he was watching. You stepped away from the living room, and quietly made your way to the bedroom. 

“’kuna…” you spoke, your throat catching, “I think…I think he might propose…” 

“What?!” He exclaimed and you had to pull the phone away. 

“Jeez! Don’t shout! You’re going to make me pop an ear drum!” 

He groaned. 

You sighed, “we’ve been talking about it…and I just…I just really want you guys to get along is all.  I just think you guys are just not seeing eye to eye…” 

Sukuna remained oddly quiet on the phone. 

“Can you say something?” You begged. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, “we can do dinner at my place. The paparazzi have been hounding me trying to get any shot they can find of me and Mei. I would rather we don't go anywhere public...” 

You smiled, “dinner is perfect!” 

At first glance, the dinner seemed like a complete success. 

The four of you chatted and enjoyed your night like you were all old friends, especially after Sousuke got over his starstruck moment when he met Mei. You and Sukuna told stories of your years together, inviting your partners to the pieces of your lives that you both shared. You could see that Sukuna was clearly attracted to Mei, and in turn he could see that you were happy with Sousuke. The night felt like a convergence without an implosion - an easy going settlement on the two roads that you and your friend had taken. 

That’s why when your boyfriend called things off with you three months later, it took you completely by surprise. 

Nothing in this world could have prepared you for that heartbreak. 

It was a grieving period, a dark time of mourning that had you glued to your bed most days. This life that you had been carefully piecing together toppled like dominos. After breaking the news to Sukuna, you spent two weeks isolating yourself from anything and everything else. 

Your best friend couldn’t stand seeing you in this state, and showed up at your door out of the blue one evening.

You burst into tears at the sight of him.

He was there to mend your broken heart, and he never left your side. He told his team that he was taking a much needed break, and during that time made sure that you were fed and comfortable. He handled any extra chores, slept on the floor in your bedroom every night so that you weren’t alone. He spent hours with you in silence while you wept, listened to you angrily vent your frustrations on how your ex could treat you this way. 

One night, he woke up and realized that you weren’t in bed. He searched for you, finding you in the kitchen staring at a small pile of bridal magazines. 

Your clothes were rumpled, you hadn’t changed or freshened up since that morning. 

Sukuna didn’t say anything, just placed two hands on your shoulders and turn you away from the painful memories. 

You gasped and hiccuped into his chest. 

“I couldn’t sleep…” you explained, “I r-remembered that I still had these, and just…just wanted them gone…” 

Sukuna tenderly stroked the back of your neck. “You know,” he said, his voice deeper than the ocean itself, the tone the texture of velvet. “I can always break his fucking legs…” 

The comment made you choke out a laugh. 

“It’ll ruin your career,” you whimpered. “It’s not worth it…” 

“For you,” he soothed, his thumb lightly tracing the space where the base of your neck and spine connected. “It’s always worth it” 

₊ ⊹ .

The blunder in Sukuna’s career hit early last year, when his relationship with Mei fell apart and resulted in one of the worst break ups that people have ever seen. Mei released a public, viral video that had millions of views and thousands of shares. She accused Sukuna of cheating for the entirety of their two year relationship, crying crocodile tears on camera over how she was simply another trophy that he could successfully claim while his heart always belonged to someone else. 

That video made your blood boil. 

You knew Sukuna wasn’t perfect - but if there was one thing you would never doubt about that man it was his loyalty. 

You saw it towards grandfather, to Yuji, to Uraume, and even yourself. 

That man scoffed at the prospect of cheating, believing it to be a cowardice act. 

And Sukuna was no coward. 

Even in prior relationships, he was always clear about where he stood. If he couldn’t commit to something, he made it perfectly known. You still didn’t know what it was about Mei that had him finally let his walls down. But when they were together, he looked perfectly content. Every desire and every fantasy he dreamt up in his youth had finally been accomplished. But all you knew about their break up was that things weren’t working out, and Sukuna wasn’t willing to share more than that. 

You were being respectful of his privacy, understanding firsthand how tough this kind of heartbreak can be. 

He called you when the Mei's video first broke out, his voice strained. 

“You know it’s not true, right?” He questioned before even saying hello. 

“Ryo, of course I know that-” 

“I’m not a little bitch who would cheat. I would never do that. Nor am I that fucking stupid thinking I would ever get away with it-”

“I know…” you reassured, hearing the apprehension laced through his words. “Ryomen, I know you. I know you better than anyone else in this world.”

He breathed a long sigh of relief. “I was just wondering if you might have been convinced otherwise”  

Your stomach tightened. 

“But if you believe me, then I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.” 

Something about that conversation clung onto you, it sat like a weight on your shoulders that you couldn’t quite possibly shrug off. The tabloids, news outlets and social media accounts were throwing ingredients upon ingredients into the rumor pot that was bubbling and boiling over. On top of that, a new rising star had just entered the boxing world, and Sukuna was suddenly dealing with brutal comparisons to the younger, hotter talent that was Satoru Gojo. 

You were the one who offered to take him out to dinner to get his mind off of things, not realizing just how bad it actually was for him. 

When a gossip magazine posted the photos of you both huddled together (as you have done many times before) while having an ordinary dinner, it spun your world inside and out. Though the pictures were quite blurry, there were a few people who were able to recognize you. You were being harassed at your work, interrogated by your friends and were even being accused of being “the other woman”.

The worst part is was when Mei fed into the chaos, making a follow up post and stating that “a woman always knows, and is always right” in regards to her break up situation with Sukuna.

She may not have explicitly said it, but her fingers were pointing at you.  

You don’t know how your address got leaked, but when you started finding paparazzi stalking you in your own home it became far too much for you to handle. 

Sukuna, on the other hand, was infuriated. 

This whole time he was disengaged by what was going on, but once you were caught in the mix of this mess, it seemed that he was suddenly ready to cause equal destruction. 

He sued his ex for defamation, sued multiple media outlets for harassment. He had Higuruma Hiromi, one of the top lawyers in his field, at the helm of this take down, and the second he shot back, it had everyone scurrying in retreat. 

The tabloids, blogs and magazines all redacted the photos of you, reducing your digital footprint. 

His ex, under pressure of Sukuna’s threats, came out with a public apology so that he would drop the charges against her and help her avoid her own PR nightmare. 

The rest of Sukuna’s anger was taken out on the ring, with people seeing another side of what The King could unleash. 

His match against Hajime Kashimo was one of the bloodiest in boxing history, his opponent left crimson and defeated despite seemingly holding a strong front in the beginning. 

They dubbed him: “The Monster of The Ring” after that. 

The damage was already done, and the stress of it all was starting to hurt Sukuna’s focus. When he nearly got disqualified in a match, that is when Uraume intervened, and felt it was necessary to include you in the discussion. 

You’ve always had a complicated relationship with Uraume. They respected you, but you know it’s only because of your mutual relationship with Sukuna. Uraume, however, has made snide remarks  towards you when you were both alone - about how you were merely a distraction when dangled in front of his champion’s eyes.

“I think some time apart would do you both good,” they said. “They are never going to stop hounding you because they think there is something more going on, and besides…we can’t have Sukuna fucking up with Gojo now in the mix. We need to show the world that he’s still as strong and as relevant as ever…” 

“It’ll die down,” Sukuna stated with frustration. 

The both of them bickered over it. It was the first time you have ever witnessed them in a heated exchanged. Your heart started to hurt because you were aware how all of this was only making your best friend see in shades of red. 

He wasn’t himself. 

He wasn’t thinking clearly. 

This was impacting him.  

You getting involved in this was impacting him. 

“Ryomen,” you said seriously, placing your hand over his. “I think Uraume is right…” 

The man turned to you, his fingers lacing between your own subconsciously as he squeezed it tightly in disbelief. 

It was the first time you’ve ever seen him hurt. 

“It’s just a short time apart,” you said with a comforting smile, “once everyone gets bored we can resume our lives in peace. But right now, I can see this taking a toll on you…” 

He furrowed the front of his brows. 

“Uraume is looking out for you, and I think what they are saying makes sense. Don’t you?” 

“No, I fucking don’t…” he snapped, his eyes glaring at his manager who remained stoic as ever. 

“Don’t let your emotions get the better of you,” they remarked, “I know a part of you agrees with what I have to say.” 

“You’re not in the right state of mind, and you need to be” 

“It’s for your own good,” Uraume insisted. "You are gambling with your career. With your legacy"

The decision was mutual but entirely heartbreaking all the same. Sukuna drew the circus away, and it broke you when you realized that in order to protect you, he had to sacrifice something in return. 

The comfort of your friendship, the sanctuary of your company.

It was the price of fame, and one that he was willing to keep paying. 

As a result of this tough decision, Sukuna had grown cold. Not because he was being mean or cruel, but because he thought he was offering you some peace of mind. Because he thought that by withdrawing from you, it would make the pain of the separation easier. He wanted this distance to be a clean break for the both of you, and while he honored keeping in touch, it was just at the bare minimum because his calls and texts were few and far between. 

The most you saw of him was on a screen, and you could see that Sukuna was miserable. 

He was turning into something vicious in the ring, a violent machine that people glorified. He wasn’t moving with the fluidity of an artist that you used to admire when you first started watching him fight. There was a sense of brutality that was now a part of his make up. 

Sukuna was no longer a man, he was a beast. 

His persona was dwindling into only intimidation. Every interview, every guest appearance, and every social occasion was met with detachments or disinterest. He was growing snarky and irritable, no longer willing to charm the people around him. 

Satoru Gojo was the first to shoot at Sukuna with his words, dredging up his painful break up and even dragging you back into the fold with his commentary. The two of them grew to have a very intense rivalry. They exchanged heated arguments on social media, smack talked the other person in live interviews and had tense interactions in public. 

The press and the people were eating up every single second of it.

On the eve of his thirty-first birthday, you received a call from Uraume. 

“We are back in the city,” they said, “Sukuna needs to start training up for his match against Satoru Gojo.” 

You swallowed the uncomfortable lump in your throat. 

“Why didn’t he tell me he was back?” You asked softly. 

Uraume sighed, “I don’t have to tell you that he’s been in a fowl mood. The agency is throwing a huge birthday party for him tonight which he is refusing to attend…” 

“So, why are you calling me?” 

“Because…” Uraume sighed, “he’s about to fly to close to the sun, and I can see he needs an anchor to bring him down to Earth a little bit…” 

Your cheeks burned at the statement. “Are you saying I am his anchor?” 

“I am saying it’s been almost a year since he last saw you…” Uraume explained, “And I don’t want him feeling awful on his birthday. I care about him too, you know?” 

You nodded your head, “No, of course. I know that.” 

“I told him that I would stop by to pick him up for the party, but I think giving him a nice surprise might do him so good. Remind the guy to enjoy himself a little…” 

“You’re sweet,” you said with a smile. 

“As are you, my dear,” Uraume replied tenderly. 

“My, my, are you actually giving me a compliment?” 

“Don’t let it get to your head,” they remarked playfully, and you felt a hint of ease realizing that things might not be as cold between you both as you thought. 

That Uraume was really only ever considering Sukuna's well being first, just like you.

₊ ⊹ .

Uraume made sure that you got to Sukuna’s place in one piece and without anyone knowing that you were even there. You clasped your best friend's present between your fingers, your exposed body shivering from the cold air as you rode the elevator up to his penthouse apartment.

It felt right to dress up; you wore a white mini dress with a mesh overlay that had little embroidered detailing on the fabric. There were cut outs in the back, with an adjustable strap from behind cinching the bodice perfectly to your shape. Your kitten heels clicked against the floor, the nerves suddenly tingling their way up your legs as you thought about what Sukuna’s reaction might even be. 

This year felt like a century in the timeline of your friendship. 

You knocked on his door gently, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. 

You could hear the trudge of footsteps from behind the frame, Sukuna’s voice bellowing as he spoke. 

“Uraume, for the last fucking time, I told you I am not going, and if you force it I will fire you on the spot-” 

He swung the door open and froze. 

“Surprise!” You squeaked lightly, awkwardly lifting the gift in your hands. “I got you a present!” 

Sukuna blinked once and then twice, his lips parting as if he’s seen a ghost. 

“Uraume asked me to come,” you explained. “They told me that you guys were back…” 

He stood there dumbfounded, for once rendered completely speechless. 

You cleared your throat, feeling a warmth rippling over your skin as the man gave you a once over. His eyes flickered down your body, hovering over all the parts of your exposed skin. Your bare thighs, your décolletage, and up the nape of your neck. 

“T-they wanted you to have fun on your birthday,” you added on with an apprehensive grin, “they actually suggested maybe a quiet night in and thought you might just want to spend it with an old friend instead of a bunch of people you probably don’t even like…” 

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his mouth pressing into a firm line. 

He looked…upset. 

Was he not happy to see you? 

“Uhm,” you mumbled, your fingers toying with the ribbon at the odd dismissal and lack of enthusiasm, “I-I don’t have to stay, but I did just want to wish you a happy birthday…” 

You took a small step forward, holding the present up as an offering. “Happy birthday, ‘Kuna…” you said with a quiet warble in your voice and feeling like a complete idiot for showing up. The disappointment of his response sat heavily on your chest.

He lifted his hand, gripping the present as he plucked it out of your grasp. You cleared your throat, anxiously scratching the back of your ear as you lifted up the strap of your dress which fell on your right shoulder. 

“I’ll just…” you added on in defeat, gesturing behind you to indicate that you were leaving. 

You didn’t even notice his arm sling behind your waist when your eyes fell downcast. 

Suddenly you were pulled over the threshold, the door closing behind you in a bang before your back was pressed up against the wooden frame. Your gaze lifted up to Sukuna, your pupils widening when you you were met with his menacing stare. 

“You know,” you said with a gulp, hoping to the ease the tension as you tried to catch your breath. “You really do look like a dragon when you scowl like that…” 

“Are you stupid?” He spat with irritation. “What if someone saw you come over? We just got the press off our backs…” 

Your pulse hit the base of your throat. “Uraume ensured that no one was around…” 

“I thought we agreed to take time apart…” he argued, ignoring your words. “You agreed.” 

“You’re mad...” You pointed out, the tip of your nose wincing as you pursed your lips. 

“I’m not mad, I’m furious…” he said with irritation. “I’m trying to keep you out of this fucking chaos and you just waltz in, in this sorry excuse of a dress, like everything is perfectly fine?!” 

You looked down at your outfit, and folded your arms over your chest. 

“I…” you spoke, your voice trailing off as your shoulders slumped. 

You didn’t even know if you should apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong and this wasn’t even your idea to begin with. You’ve also never seen Sukuna speak to you this way before, and your confidence bubbled when you recognized that this...wasn’t him. 

You straightened your back, tilting your chin up to face him with defiance. 

You’re the only person in the world who willingly challenges him. 

You don’t even have to raise a fist to watch him break. 

He was pushing you away, the same way he did when you found him on the ground of that kindergarten because that’s what Sukuna does when he’s hurting the most. 

“God, you’re just as miserable as look…” you pointed out with a quirk of your brow. 

His jaw twitched. 

“I don’t give a shit who catches me here,” you boldly claimed, “I miss my best friend…” you added before shoving his shoulder, “and you, you asshole, have no excuse for not telling me that you are back home. Just because I agreed to us spending some time apart, that doesn’t mean you get to just...cut me off like that. To not call me, to barely answer my texts, and to just push me away like I don’t matter to you…” 

Sukuna winced, taking a step closer to seal the gap of space between you both. He brought his head lower, dipping his forehead to press against your own. Your spine seized in that moment, your lips parting feeling the heat of his breath on your skin. 

You were expecting a rebuttal, but this…this wasn’t what you thought would happen. 

“You are a pain in my ass…” he whispered, closing his eyes as he circled his free arm around your waist, “and the only thing that matters to me…” 

He nudged his face closer, so close you swore to yourself that he might kiss you, before tracking his lips along your jaw and cradling his forehead in the crook of your neck instead. 

Your right hand moved him to touch his shoulder, your face contorting with a hint of concern. 

You felt it then, something wet on your skin where his forehead lay, and you took in a sharp breath as Sukuna tightened his arm around your waist. 

“You shouldn’t have come…” he took a deep inhale against your neck, smelling your skin before clearing his throat from any shakiness. 

“You said that already…” you grumbled unamused. 

“Stubborn woman, you never listen...” he breathed in once more, “God, I fucking missed you.” 

₊ ⊹ .

Sukuna opened his present once everything was settled, and once he finally embraced the reunion without questioning any other factors. He laughed at your little DIY stress kit that you put together for him. You both ordered in pizza, sitting on opposite sides of the sofa with the open cardboard box between you. You talked, and talked, and talked into the late hours of the night.  Until there were only crumbs on the bottom of the box which Sukuna placed on the coffee table. The bottle of champagne that you have both been nursing was nearly empty. 

Drunk on each other, with a belly full of food and simplistic joy settling in. Sukuna leaned against the arm rest, sprawling his long legs and patting his thigh sweetly. 

“C’mere…” 

Your heart hammered, and you bit the rim of your champagne glass before obliging. 

You stood up, swaying a little and watching his hungry eyes blatantly check you out as you sat on his lap. Sukuna adjusted his position, before dropping his palm on your thigh, his touch stroking up and down your skin. 

“What’s going on with you?” You inquired, placing your elbow on his shoulder as you rested your warm cheek against your palm. 

You were looking at him with concern, noticing his face sink. 

He rubbed one hand over the exhausted expression, an intoxicated blush painting his cheeks. 

“The press are worse than ever. After Mei, it’s been…relentless. The stories they are coming up with, the things that they are saying about me. I went from being on top of the world to being the guy everyone loves to fucking hate. And with every fight I go into, people are just waiting for me to wash up. The cherry on top of this whole fucking thing is Satoru Gojo, who won’t stop running his fucking mouth. I want cut the little shit in half…” 

You smiled, not to be condescending, but out of gratitude that you both easily slipped back into the shell of your own comfort. “Ryomen, he’s twenty-one years old. Do you not remember how you were at that age?” 

He rolled his eyes. “I had more class than he did…” 

“But you were aggressive,” you reminded, “You weren’t afraid to tear down the legends that predated you.” 

“So, what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that maybe Satoru drew inspiration from somewhere…” 

You placed the champagne glass on his chest, your fingers holding the stem as you swirled the liquid around gently. The silence hung in the air because Sukuna knew you were right, but there were other lingering questions pressing you at the same time. And thanks to the alcohol, you had all the courage you needed to ask.

“What happened with Mei?” You wondered, shifting your gaze to meet his. 

Sukuna’s index finger tapped up and down your thigh in contemplation. 

He closed his eyes and shook his head before swallowing the lump in his throat. “Nothing.” 

You quirked your brow again, taking a swig of your champagne. 

Sukuna used his free hands to wrap around your own, and he pulled the glass away from you to take a sip himself. 

“Why won’t you tell me?” 

He chugged the rest of your drink, and placed it on the ground beside him. 

“Ryomen…” 

“Don’t push me, brat…” 

“But why not?” You wondered, “I just…it just seemed like you both were so happy and then all of a sudden…” 

He dropped his head back against the arm rest and stared up at the ceiling. From underneath his black shirt you saw the silver chain poking through. 

Your heart tightened. 

You drew one hand on the locket, your finger curling underneath as your thumb tracked over the texture of the necklace. 

“You’re still wearing it…” you mumbled. 

Sukuna faced you. “I never take it off. Only when I have to get in the ring…” His eyes shifted to your exposed, naked neck, and you mindlessly reached for the silver chain that you were currently not wearing. 

“I don’t wear it on certain occasions…” you explained guiltily, “only because I am afraid that I might lose it.” 

“Plus, it wouldn’t go with this dress...” Sukuna nonchalantly added on and you laughed at his comment. 

He sighed in defeat. “The necklace was a small reason,” he opened up. “Mei hated that I wore it all the time. She would badger me about taking it off. The time I spent with you after Sousuke didn’t help…” he added, treading the delicate topic with as much sensitivity as he could, “she accused me for cheating. I told her she needed to back off because you and I had a history that predates her. I told her that if the roles were reversed, you would be there for me because you have always been there for me…” 

Your body froze. 

“She would pick fights with me over everything about you. Finally I had enough, and told her she needed to fucking trust me if this was going to work. But things never went back to the way they used to. It was always up and down with Mei. Finally, when she had enough, she told me that I had a choice to make. Either I cut you off for us to happily together. Or…she leaves…” 

You sat up, staring at him with wide eyes and shock.  

“I’m…” you gasped, “I’m the reason why you both broke up?” 

The guilt struck you harder than you expected, and you looked down at Sukuna’s torso shamefully as you recalled the state of yourself post-break up, thinking of all the moments where you might have potentially stolen precious time away from his former lover. 

“Ryomen, I am so…I am so sorry…” 

Two fingers brushed underneath your chin, and Sukuna lifted your head so you could see him. 

“I picked you,” he confessed, “I picked you.” 

“But-” 

“There is no “but”,” he said with a shake of his. “We’ve been in each other’s lives for over two decades. You are my person. You are my family. You…”, he sighed, “you didn’t deserve what happened afterwards...”

His hands trailed up until his digits caught the hem of your dress. 

“I’m keeping my distance to protect you..."

“But you loved her,” you gasped, “I saw it. I saw you both. I would’ve…I would’ve stepped aside. If I was causing any issues, I would’ve…respected your boundaries. I love you, Ryomen. I just want you to be happy, and if that means that I take a step back-” 

“I did love her,” Sukuna interjected, the heat of gaze flicking upward, the rims slightly red from the alcohol he consumed. “But I love you more…” 

He drew all the air out of your lungs with the slip of his tongue, making you perch yourself up so you were actually looking directly at him. His pupils were dilated, widening as if to give you access to the depths of his soul. In all your years you’ve known him, you don’t think the two of you ever actually exchanged those words. It was always veiled with “I care for you,”, “I adore you,” “You’re my person,” and “this is why we are best friends.” 

But love… 

That felt forbidden to say out loud, even though you both knew that the root of your friendship was only built on love, it shouldn't have come as such a shock to you for the confession to slip so naturally.

You gaze longingly into each other’s eyes, in a way that you haven’t since you were both sixteen years old. 

Wondering…

Considering…

“I don’t…” you said quietly, sitting upright as he shifted beneath you. 

You wound up straddling him, both your hands resting on his shoulders while his own continued to tease the hem of your dress. 

“I don’t know what to say…” you exhaled. 

Sukuna pinched the fabric between his thumb and index finger, allowing the silence to hang for a few minutes before switching the subject. 

“Did you dress up for me?” He joked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his devilish mouth. He slid one hand underneath your dress, making you gasp as his touch moved dangerously high up your thigh. 

“Wanted to look cute,” you murmured, your words lacing tightly together as the champagne danced across your tongue. You felt a pulse radiate between your legs, and you unknowingly clenched much to Sukuna’s amusement.  

“Cute for me?” He coaxed. 

“Cute in general,” you remarked. 

His other hand sprawled across your back, and you knew he was testing his boundaries.

“Ryomen…” you warned, but it only made him break out into a full grin. His irises were drowning in lust and inebriation, and your own were falling in suit. 

The hand on your hip dragged up further, until his fingers brushed over the string of your underwear. You scratched your nails down his chest, feeling your back arch into his palm as you mindlessly rolled your hips.

His lips moved to your ear, that mellifluous voice dangerously close. “Let’s play a game…” 

He squeezed the fat of your hip, his weight lifting you up and the entire room spun as he pinned you underneath him when he switched your positions. He locked you against the plush sofa with his thighs, a throaty laugh coming through from your sudden squeak of surprise. 

“Let’s see you try to get out of this one, Princess...” He teased, his teeth nipping at the side of your throat. “Or you’ll end up being my dinner…” 

Your body vibrated from the sensation of his touch. You gripped his jaw firmly and pulled his face towards you, your brows furrowing at the proclamation of a challenge. 

“It’s not fair to go against a boxing champion,” you argued, your spine curving as Sukuna slipped his other thigh between your legs. 

He dropped his head to the base of your throat, his teeth catching the sensitive spot just above your collar bone, “don’t worry,” he soothed over the gentle bite, “I’ll play fair…”

“Don’t patronize me,” you grumbled through gritted teeth. 

“You’re fault for waltzing into the dragon’s lair…” he alerted, quoting the very same line he used to when you would both play this silly fantasy game together. 

But you’re not wielding plastic swords and entering into the enemies domain with a sense of courage. Now, it felt like playing with fire. Your skin was burning at the contact, at Sukuna’s weight over your throbbing body. When he nibbled on your neck again, your hand gripped onto the back of his head, tugging his hair a little roughly as you pulled him away. 

Sukuna purred. 

“You’ve never been able to beat me…” you teased, giving into the world of make believe just one more time but speaking the truth regarding this fact. “I’ve always been your biggest challenge…” 

“Watch me win tonight,” he pushed with confidence, reaching for your wrist and pinning it above your head. 

“And what are the rules here exactly?” You quipped, your tongue tingling and your body buzzing with excitement and curiosity. “Am I supposed to kill the dragon and win back my castle?” 

Sukuna laughed, his eyes darkening as he pressed his forehead to yours once more. 

“No need to draw any swords. Let’s play a game of submission…” he boldly claimed, and your attention flickered to find his brazen smile burning even brighter on his face. “First person to cum loses” 

“Are you making a move on me?” You light heartedly disputed. 

“Not at all,” Sukuna maintained, but you can tell from his tone that he’s veiling the truth.

There was something hard pressing up against you, and you had a feeling it was a nudge for some relief. 

“It’s the dress isn’t it?” you giggle.

“If you even call it a dress…” 

“Can’t handle a little skin?” 

“I don’t want to shock you by telling you got me half hard just showing up,” he confessed, something unfolding in your drunken stupor. 

“I can feel you…” you sighed, and the man hummed as he molded his body into you.

You felt him twitch, and it made your thighs tremble. 

“We had too much champagne,” you informed. 

“That we did” 

“We should probably stop…” you exhaled, your lashes fluttering when you felt his thigh flex against your cunt. 

“Do you want to?” Sukuna asks, his voice growing serious. His hand on your hip tugs at the string of your underwear, and he releases it with a snap as it pinches back against your skin. 

You licked your lips, your brain too fuzzy to contradict what your heart wanted. “You know I will never back down from a challenge with you…” 

“That's what I like about you,” Sukuna adoringly praises. 

“And we both know you’re going to lose, right?” 

Your throat shrinks, Sukuna’s hand gliding over your pubis to press the drenched spot against your underwear. 

“Don’t underestimate me, Princess,” he advices ominously, “we’ve never played a game like this before.” 

₊ ⊹ .

Clothes had to stay on - that was the rule you both agreed with. 

To keep things fair. 

To keep it…playful. 

Your nipples pebbled, poking hard against the fabric of your dress as Sukuna sucked on the skin of your neck. You knew for a fact that he was leaving a mark there, and all you could do was bite back as his mouth trailed down the column and over the slope of your breast. You whimpered when he tugged at your clothed nipple with with his teeth, making the muscles in your leg seize from the sudden contact. 

You had to do something, and so you reached your hand between your legs to lightly graze over his erection pressing against his sweats. 

Sukuna groaned, and you sniggered at the reaction. 

You lifted your head and neck, bringing your mouth to his own ear. 

“You know,” you seductively stated, your fingers outlining the length of his hard member. “The first time I ever touched myself was after watching you practice in the ring…” 

Sukuna cursed under his breath, your fingers squeezed around his length. You proceeded to stroke the heat of his member, striking hard for your first blow. “And I always do whenever I watch you fight. I get so hot and bothered seeing you in the ring. I even have a a specific vibrator I use…I named it after you…” 

“Fucking hell,” he hissed when you snuck your hand underneath his waistband, bringing your touch even closer as you palmed him over his boxers. 

“I’ve never told you that secret…” you declared, bringing your own teeth to his earlobe which you tugged mercilessly. 

Sukuna lost himself for a moment, making you think this was going to be an easy win. But you heard him steady his breathing, could his muscles flexing as if to tame his own body back from giving in.  

“I heard you once…” he stammered suddenly, closing his eyes as he recollected his memories. “Back when you were living in the dorm. I came over to drop off something, and you…ugh, fuck-…you were in the bathroom…moaning. I thought you were in pain at first, until I realized…” 

Your own cheeks burned at his confession, the surprise making you ease your grip. 

Sukuna grabbed your wrist then and pulled you away from his crotch. He placed it on your breast, and you absentmindedly pinched your nipple as he slid his hand between your legs. He lowered himself down, slithering underneath you and making your ears sting with vexation. He pushed your dress over your thighs, exposing your light colored underwear. The noticeable wet patch made his eyes glitter with satisfaction. 

“I would have jacked off on the spot, but I left. I was clearly intruding on a private matter, but that didn’t stop me from blowing a load the second I made it to my place,” he carries on, bringing his nose and pressing it against your slit. “So fucking sweet…” 

You tried to push his head away, and in response he dragged his tongue over the moist patch on your underwear. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned, your hips bucking from the sensation. 

“You’re the first person I think of when I touch myself,” he revealed, humming as his tongue lewdly licked over your underwear. 

Your whole lower belly tingled, your arousal only slicking the fabric. 

You needed to distract him from carrying on, but Sukuna hooked two fingers underneath your underwear and tugged them to the side. 

You sat up on your forearms, pressing your thighs against his cheeks to stop him from diving in. 

“Don’t cheat,” you sternly addressed, but Sukuna only scoffed vindictively. 

“You’re still wearing them, Princess…” he pointed out, and the loophole made your core pulse with anticipation. “This isn’t cheating…” 

With your panties tugged aside, Sukuna used two fingers to spread the lips apart. 

He was staring at your pussy, studying it like it was the first one he’s ever looked at. 

You wanted to say something, to ask what he was doing. But to your surprise he just placed a gentle kiss on your clit before murmuring sweetly into your sex. “You’re beautiful,” Sukuna complimented, as if expressing a blessing before a meal then finally dragging his wet tongue up along the slit of your exposed pussy. 

“You’re ch-cheating…” was all you could think of blubbering out in the haze of lust, feeling the vibration of his laugh as he slung one of your legs over his shoulder. 

It hits you then - the fact that this man indulges in going down on women. Though he never explicitly shared all the lewd details with his past partners, he did mention how it was “his favorite thing to do”. After all these years, you finally get to experience it for yourself. Feel how he latches onto your pussy as your arousal drips like he’s pouring honey out of the jar and slurping the sticky, creamy essence. You whine when he prods his tongue between your folds, expertly sliding the muscle as he rolls it in gentle waves to stir a budding orgasm. Your fingers intertwine around his locks, reading to yank him off until he slurps and sucks in just the right spot that has you simply massaging his scalp instead. 

“…’kuna~…” you mewl, your nails dragging over his scalp. 

The man circles his mouth over your tender clit, sucking on the bud before pressing another kiss on the nub. 

Your pussy throbs when he pulls away, but you were proud for holding back. 

It was your opportunity to distract him, and you shrugged off one of your straps to pull down your dress to expose your left breast. Sukuna’s attention flickered upward, watching you tweak at the hard nub as you gave him a shy grin. 

“The felt really good,” you breathily whined. 

He began crawling his way back up, and you used this opportunity to lift your body upright. He was distracted, wasn't even thinking about you finding a way out of this position. His lips instantly latched onto your nipple, his hands gripping the fat of your ass as he sucked on the point feverishly. 

You licked your lips, doing everything in your power not to fall back into the black hole of his gripping dominance.

When he released you, you instantly pushed his back against the couch and climbed on top of him so you were safely straddling him again. You forcefully dragged your wet cunt over his erection, leaving a little trail of you to stain the fabric of his pants. Sukuna grunted with pleasure, bucking his hips as you ground yours. 

“You’re not as sharp with me,” you giggled, languidly gliding your cunt over his begging member. 

“Because you’re fucking distracting,” Sukuna grieves, his hands clenching into tight balls by his side as he refuses to grab onto your ass and push for more friction. 

You felt him sink, using his shoulders as leverage to keep you perched in just the right position so your pussy was rubbing over his cock. You bit back a sound of pleasure from leaving you, and instead exhale softly as you continue rocking back and forth. 

“You’re big everywhere aren’t you,” you tantalized, noting the way his jaw tense as a rumble erupted from his chest in a deep groan which morphed into a slightly sinister laugh. 

“Let me show you.” 

He lifted his hips, making you pause at the sudden awkward shift. He pushed his sweat pants down just to meet the end of his boxers. The removal of the first layer was a small relief, but your eyes widened as he settled back down. His erection was tenting, pressing up against the thin black material and making you see a clear distinction of his balls and thick shaft. 

“Go on then,” he tempted. 

Your could feel yourself getting wet. The tightness in your belly only contracting further. 

You stared him down, knowing full well that he was manipulating you at that very moment. 

“Why stop there?” You rebutted. 

You helped pulled out the weight of his heavy cock from the restraint, watching his length smack against his lower belly as the tip dribbled with cum. Sukuna moaned when your thumb pressed against the slit, your touch dragging back and forth as you aligned yourself. 

The sounds of your panting breaths were far too loud in this quiet room. You hesitated for a minute before lowering yourself, pressing the fat tip at your entrance. You gulped down air from the stretch alone, your arousal enough lubricant for your take him. You sank, your attention on Sukuna’s whose eyes were honed in on the point of contact of your sexes. 

When your pelvis finally kiss his own, when your bodies were merged into one, you felt two hands seek your waist as you trembled in his arms. 

Your dress had fallen back over, covering him buried inside you. You were looking up at him now as his chest rose to press yours.

A puzzle piece finally connecting. 

He twitched inside you, and you clenched around his length, but neither of you moved. You forgot, for a moment, that this was just a game. That the two of you were probably going to wake up tomorrow morning not being able to face the other person. Your heart was racing, your body begging for movement but you couldn’t snap yourself out of the bold decision you already made. 

Sukuna was looking deep into our eyes, the sparkle behind his own irises making you think of embers on winter night. 

His hands slipped up your waist, over the curves of your breast and up on the length of your neck. He held your head between his palms, the tips of his thumbs lightly caressing your cheeks, with his fingers to the back of your neck. He tilted his head down slightly, his nose brushing against the bridge of yours and he did something that caught you entirely off guard. 

His lips were warm on yours, the kiss the softest gesture you’ve ever experienced from him. He held a firm kiss at first, long enough until you were crumbling apart. You parted your mouth, granting him entrance and he swiped his tongue to lick the inside. He was tracing your own, his wet and wanting mouth only growing more hungry as you eagerly accepted his kiss. Your heart hammered heavily in your chest, and goosebumps peaked all over your skin when you felt his thumbs gently caress the soft skin of your cheeks. 

You’ve never been kissed like this before. Never felt bursts of light erupt from behind your eyelids or your stomach explode with fireworks. This always just fun foreplay for you, but nothing that would make you quiver in heat. You almost came on the spot from this one little act that you’ve imagined since you were sixteen, the one which you thought would never occur because of an unspoken rule on boundaries. But it was finally happening, and it was far too magical for you to even comprehend. 

He swallowed your moan, tasted how sweet your desire actually was. The kiss was getting heated, your walls tightening around his cock His lips wrapped around your tongue. He sucked on it, before sliding his own back over yours. 

You felt so weak; were reminded that you truly were just a fragile thing in his arms and nothing more. 

He pulled away, a string of saliva sticking from his lips to yours but you shook your head as you circled your hands around his wrists. 

“More,” you cried desperately without thinking. 

Sukuna smiled against your mouth and obliged. 

You don’t know how long you both sat there making out. But every time he tried to pull you away you sighed “again,”, or moaned “don’t stop”. You didn’t even consider kissing to be an option on the table, but the more you were getting turned on the further your guard went down. Your hips started to bounce lightly, your pussy so bothered that it wanted some relief. You started fucking yourself over his length, your mouth battling with lips, teeth and tongue in a very heated stand off. Sukuna relaxed his body against the sofa, noticing you melt over him like you were wax. Your hips were moving up and down, your tongue languidly rolling around his mouth. You could feel Sukuna moving with you, bucking his hips in return. His jerks were growing sharper, his hands dropping back down to your hips to keep you in place. Your foreheads were touching, lips parting, panting heavily as you climbed and higher. The two of you were lost in the moment, forgetting everything else that led up to this. 

You were going to lose this one, you thought, and you didn’t even care. 

Your head was spinning, your heart bursting, and you reached to hold his jaw in your hand out of desperation, hoping that by clinging to him it meant that you wouldn’t disappear into the haze of it all. Entirely overwhelmed by the feeling, by this particular connection, your eyes started to water, with tears falling as your nose grew stuffy. 

“Ryomen~” you begged, your dulcet voice full of affection. The tip of his cock hit your sweetest spot and at that point you knew you were done for. 

But Sukuna jerked his hips, the groan that ripped out of him made your belly spasm. He pulled out fast, shooting his cum all over you. Your orgasm collapsed into you just seconds after, and the two of you were shaking against one another as you tried to reorient yourselves to the present. 

You were a mess, and so was he. 

Two hands found your thighs as your torso collided into his. You placed one hand on the base of his neck, and rested your cheek against the crook.  

“You lost,” you joked with a sniffle, because you were unsure what to say, and because you realized you had just fucked your best friend and had no idea what that meant. 

Sukuna just grinned, flashing you a knowing smile and a devilish smirk. 

He perched your chin under his fingers, tapping the end sweetly. 

“Doesn’t feel like I did,” he breathed, and your eyes glittered once more. 

You arched up to kiss his cheek, “I didn’t know a dragon could kiss this well…” 

Sukuna chuckled, bumping the tip of his nose to yours affectionately as he tilted his head down. “I’ve had time to practice.” 

You sighed into another kiss, “What did we do, Ryomen?” 

“Something we should have done a long time ago…” he responded in between. 

“You love me…” you breathed. 

“And you’re surprised?” He interrupted with another kiss. 

“I don’t know what that means…” 

He nipped at your bottom lip. “It means what it means. I love you. Fuck, enough that I nearly fucking came inside you without thinking. You haven’t been around and I feel like I've lost my goddamn mind in just a year…” 

Your nails dragged down his chest your heart leaping its way up your throat. 

“I love you too,” you revealed. “I love you, Ryomen. And I missed you too."

You both fell asleep on the sofa, waking up the next morning and replaying the events of your drunken stupor. After you both cleaned up and showered, you had a serious conversation over two cups of coffee. Though, you aren’t quite sure how "serious" it was, considering that Sukuna had you sitting on his lip while you were gently stroking his hair.

He revealed that the reason why he didn’t tell you about his return was also partially due to the fact that he was leaving that very night to hop on plane and fly halfway across the world. He couldn't bring himself to see you for only a short stint when he knew he needed far more time together after everything.

“Uraume is right,” he bitterly admitted, “You are a big distraction for me right now, and I have to be in the right headspace for this fight with Gojo” 

“You sound worried,” you pointed out with a furrow of your brows, your hands dragging back his locks as you threaded your digits between the strands to push his hair back from his forehead.

“If he beats me then I am done,” Sukuna blurted, “what I have built will diminish into nothing. I can’t lose to him. It’ll cost me my career…” 

Disappointment wrapped its arms around you just as Sukuna loosened his own grip. But you could hear the hint of tiny, tiny fear behind his words was enough to you feel hollow. Sukuna has never felt threatened, but this was a serious fight for him. He’s worked so hard for all of this, and he was not willing to give it up to some punk who just shot into the scene. 

“Why don’t we revisit this after the fight then?” You offered.

He glanced at you.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." you exhaled, "what if maybe we just need to wait a little longer before we allow ourselves to have this..."

Sukuna paused for a moment. “You’d wait for me?” He asked. 

A smile ticks at the corner of your mouth. “Yes, because you always come back to me” 

“That I do” he responds

You brush your fingers under his chin, tilting it upward once more to receive another kiss. “I’ll wait for you,” you ensure. "Because I'll always come back to you too."

₊ ⊹ .

One hand slides into the front pocket of your denim skirt, and Sukuna rests his chin on top of your head. You smile to yourself, though he can’t see it, because he’s busy watching you slice bits of fruit as you place it into one of his ceramic bowls. When you were kids, Sukuna would have to look around your arm whenever he hugged you from behind. The years show the evolution of this gesture, from him suddenly perching over your shoulder until he could simply see over your crown. 

He sighs, his other arm curling over your belly as he embraces you. 

“Don’t add the blueberries,” he mumbles. 

You oblige, your back leaning into the breadth of his chest. 

The two of you haven’t touched one another since that faithful night. 

Up until the fight, you and Sukuna simply returned back to the way things used to be. Except this time there were little alterations in your day to day conversations that indicated a shift. 

For one, Sukuna was a flirt. 

You were use to this commentary, but now that your friendship has taken a turn you find your cheeks growing heated more often around him because his words weren't gray. What he says toward you, and the way he compliments you rings very, very true.  There is also a deep tenderness for one another that you both are finally allowing to express freely. You don't dull your affection, and instead allow it to overflow. And last of all, the longing to be back together was pathetically obvious. 

You placed the strawberries, sliced peaches and peeled oranges into the bowl, your fingers a little tacky. “I need to wash my hands,” you indicate, and Sukuna begrudgingly releases you from his hold. 

You’re surprised that he didn’t pounce on you so quickly. 

The two of you only had one other sexual moment just a few months ago. 

Sukuna video called you one evening, his face tight with frustration. 

He was exhausted from training, and even more drained by the press. 

They were claiming that his new “pumped physique” was due to steroid use, and one little rumor had the representatives of the boxing association hounding him like he was a real culprit in this make believe story. Suddenly, his hard work and training was being reduced to the thing that the press claimed him to be: a cheater.

He called you to ensure you that everything was alright. That he was forced to take tests which all came out negative (obviously) and and effectively proved his innocence. 

“I can’t wait to be home,” he breathed with annoyance. “I’m fucking sick of this shit…” 

You were in the bathroom getting ready for bed, gently patting your moisturizer onto your face. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you stated, offering him only an apology because it's all you could give. “Is there something I can do to make you feel better?” 

Sukuna arched his brow, his attention hovering in front of the screen. 

“Yeah, you can take off that robe you’re wearing…” he teased. 

You jerked your head to the camera in surprise, noting his cheeky tone. 

“Ha-ha…” you remarked. 

“I’m being serious,” he answered back, his mouth dropping into an instant frown. “I’ve had a shitty day, and I can’t even do the one thing I want to help me relax…” 

You arched your brow. “And what might that be?” 

He revealed his canines, a wolfish grin brightening that handsome face. “Fucking my girl...” 

Your heart thumped, and you swallowed the sudden tightness in your throat. You picked up your lip balm and dabbed your finger into the ointment before gliding it over your bottom lip. 

“Your girl, huh?” You reiterated casually, hoping that Sukuna wouldn’t quite pick up on the catch in your throat. 

“You’re always my girl, even when you weren’t mine to call that…” he added softly, his voice pulling your attention back towards him. 

He wasn’t kidding around, with the look on his face entirely serious. The tips of your ears stung with a heat that you couldn’t explain, and you just had the sudden urge to reach through the screen and pull his face back towards you. 

You wanted to kiss him, to tell him that you always felt like you belonged to him too. 

The two of you an inseparable pair for a reason. 

Instead, you stripped down to reveal your naked form. You perched the camera towards the back for a wider shot, and allowed your body to speak to Sukuna instead. One of your legs was resting on the bathroom sink, the other grounding you on the floor. You had the camera facing your cunt, with your fingers buried deep inside. But it was nothing compared to the stretch of Sukuna’s digits, wasn’t filling you enough to reach you to the pleasurable climax you desired. 

“It’s not enough,” you gasped in between breaths, watching Sukuna passionately jerk off from he other side of the screen, “Need you, ‘kuna~” you whined, “it’s not enough with you…” 

The memory hits you, making your lower belly tighten.

You dry your hands off to face him, only to find the man standing with an expression of guilt on his face. 

The same concern you had earlier when you left the elevator reappeared once more. 

You pick up the fruit bowl from the counter, trying your best not to give the discomfort attention. You offer Sukuna a strawberry, lifting it towards his mouth but he instantly circles his hand around your wrist and pulls it back down.

“I need to tell you something,” 

You scrunch your brows, and place the fruit bowl back onto the counter. 

“What’s wrong?”

Sukuna closes his eyes, a look of shame washing over him. 

You take a step closer, wrap both arms around his waist and rest your chin on his chest. 

“What’s wrong?” You repeat, coaxing him to speak. 

“I nearly threw the fight tonight.” 

You jerk your head up in shock, your lips parting as your jaw falls from the confession. 

“You…what?” 

Sukuna rubs his tired face with one hand, using every ounce of courage to look back at you. 

“There was a moment in the ring when Satoru threw a relatively decent punch,” he explains, “I had the lights knocked out of me for a split second. When I turned to face him it hit me then...that I could fake dodging his next attack before giving him the opening that he needs to win. One more hit and I’d...collapse. Let the referee do his count, and that would be it…”

You knew the exact moment he was referring to. It was the point in the match where your ears were ringing because you truly thought that you would be witnessing a loss on Sukuna's part. The entire crowd was muttering in shock, all of them on the precipice of a potential shift in legacy. 

“I didn’t follow through because I think Satoru noticed a change in my demeanor. It was only a few seconds, but the kid is fucking sharp. He wasn't smugly determined then, he was looking at me with...confusion. I couldn't do it then. I didn't want him to get a cop out on my end. So, I carried on the fight the way I would. After the match, I thought I could just let the moment pass but Uraume tried to bring it up later and I shut it down because I didn't want to admit it. Anyway, I needed to just get it off my chest…” 

“You were going to give him that win?” You expressed with deep concern, tightening your hold around his waist as you watched Sukuna’s face to turn hard. 

It hits you then - that the Champ, The Monster of The Ring, The Beast and King Himself was…burnt out. Sukuna’s fire had been gone for quite some time, you just thought it would reignite after tonight. 

But it didn't.

You bring your hands to his biceps and caress your palms up and down. 

“Ryomen,” you speak, licking your lips with hesitation before finally asking. “Is this what you still want?” 

Contemplative eyes meet yours as his palms find both your cheeks. He drops his head down, his lips seeking yours as he takes into account the gash on the muscle, then places a careful kiss on your mouth. 

“I just want you,” he hums. 

“M’right here,” you murmur back, “Not going anywhere.” 

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he adds on, “that’s all I could think about during the fight. Was just coming home to you, coming home to us…” 

A shiver runs down your back, but your body vibrates with an innocent excitement. “We don’t have to wait anymore,” you whisper. “I’m not going anywhere no matter what happens. No matter what comes next…” 

Sukuna looks at you then, knowing full well what your statement means. 

Once news breaks out of the two of you being an actual item, heaven knows what might happen. If the paparazzi have been plaguing Sukuna like a curse this whole time, it was only going to get even more complicated with you so intimately intertwined in his world. And now that he was back on top as the champion, he knew full well that all eyes were going to remain on him.

From when he was a child, no matter what he believed about his life that would deter you from him. His broken home wasn't enough to push you. His anger wasn't enough to push you. His detachment wasn't enough to push you. The chaos that is his world wasn't enough to push you.

You have always remained solidly by his side.

His constant. The only thing in the world that he can rely on.

“I love you,” he states under his breath, leaning in to peck you for a second time. 

“I love you too,” you repeated with a smile against his lips. 

There was no epic moment around this sober reveal, no exceptional circumstance other than the privacy of it being spoken with no one else to hear it other than the two of you.

You loved one another, in the deepest possible way you could love a person. From there your lips parted, and you carefully kissed the man before you as he scooped you up in his arms. 

He repeated the phrase again when he placed you on the kitchen counter, with his fingers buried deep within the folds of your wet pussy. 

You moaned it back to him after he carried you into his bedroom, with your fists tangled between his hair as he ate you out. 

He grunted it out one last time, with his hand gripping the headboard as he watched your body melt into the matters when he thrusted his dick in and out of you as he made love to you feverishly. 

And you mumbled it back one last time while he held you in his arms, the two of you falling asleep from a very long night of unbridled passion. 

Sukuna was the first to wake at the crack of dawn. He rolled over to grab  his phone from the side table in an attempt to turn off his alarm before it woke you up as well. As he looked at the device, his heart sank. 

A number of notifications were blowing up his phone and it was making him feel dizzy. 

News articles were already painting him in all his glory after his fight with Satoru, with his opponent looking battered in defeat. The press had finally flipped, and suddenly began to revere him the way he deserved to be. There were text messages from an influx of people, either congratulating him or wanting get his thoughts on the match. Sukuna feels the tremor in his hand build as he starts to scroll through the notifications. 

He places the device on the blanket in front of him, his eyes looking out to the large windows as he watches the sky shift from a deep violet to a lilac blue. He turns this head to gaze at you. This image of you by his side, in a position that he’s seen multiple times in his life, feels different now too. The soft glow of new daylight washes over your body, and the stillness of the hour has him believing that he actually made it to heaven. Sukuna places a soft kiss on your forehead, then carefully kicks off the blankets. He searches for his boxers, then pulls on the pair before stepping out into his balcony. 

He calls Uraume. 

Usually they pick up quick, but Sukuna counts down the rings until they do. 

“My King,” they tease, their voice a little groggy. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Sukuna watches a bird fly across the horizon, the ease in his chest an affirmation to what he’s about to say. 

“I’m retiring,” he announces. “I’m done.” 

The silence hangs in the air, streaks of orange and yellow begin to tint the clouds. 

“I had a feeling you were going to say that…” 

“is that why it took you long to answer my call?” 

Uraume huffs out a laugh. “I guess I was hoping for another piece of news…” 

“Are you mad?” Sukuna asks, only honoring Uraume with his worry because he knows how much they have done for him to begin with. 

Uraume sighs, “I’m not actually. It’s the smartest decision you can make. You retire now and you basically leave the game while sitting at the top. You’ve earned that throne, and it won’t be easy for these rookies to take it from you so quickly…” 

Sukuna chuckles, “you’re right about that…” 

Uraume lets the quiet overtake the conversation. “I’ll give it a few days before I break the news to the press.” 

“And then what?” 

“There’s definitely going to be a lot of interviews, and a retirement party that you will have to attend wether you like it or not…” 

“And what about you?” 

Uraume hums, “You and I had a good run. If it’s the end for you, then I guess I can finally retire too..” 

Sukna furrows his brows, his nails scratch over the rail on his balcony. “I don’t want you doing that because of me…” 

Uraume laughs, “You’ve earned my loyalty, what can I say?” 

“Thank you,” Sukuna breathes, “For everything you’ve done for me. You’re more than just a manager, but I think you already know that...” 

“I know it,” Uraume answers back. “And I also know that this is the right decision because you sound…relieved.” 

He hears you then. 

You were calling out to him, “‘kuna, where are you?~” 

He turns his back to face the railing, missing the sun breaking through the horizon at the sound of your voice. He smiles thinking about the adorable, frustrated look on your face when you probably reached out and couldn’t find him, and he slowly begins making his approach back into his bedroom. 

“I am,” he speaks to Uraume, “I’ve got to go. Will talk about this later.” 

He hangs up the phone, and returns to the shadow of deep, restful slumber. He places the phone back on his side table, and smiles at the exact disappointed expression that he pictured when he was outside. 

The second you feel his warmth back in your presence, you snuggle up into his frame. 

“Where did you go?” You mumble with a yawn, and Sukuna wraps his strong arms around you as he nestles back into your body. 

“Nowhere,” he breathes, easing back into your embrace. 

“Heard you talking,” you add on, you eyes still shut but your arm slinking around his neck to keep him close.

It’s taken you both over two decades to get here, and he wasn’t going to allow anything to come in the way of that. “I’ll tell you about it later,” he reassures, keeping his loving eyes on you as he clutches onto his bright, new future with his favorite person.

A life that you both will now get to live in peaceful happiness. 

₊ ⊹ .

:note: hi, everyone! long form fics has been really draining for me these days but these one shots feel like a great refresher. I know this is a monster of a fic, but I hope you enjoy the story. comments and reblogs are appreciated!

tags (only tagging those who asked): @after-laughter-come-tears @not-9ok @axxk17 @sukubusss @lavenderdaydream97 @charlie-xo @kunasthiast @celestep004 @brownskinnedgirll @sukunasweetheart @kunascutie @joontroverted @emi311 @yuujispinkhair @starmapz @bellyei

[stellewriites]

Part 5 - John Price x reader

Masterlist

Summary: When John gets an unexpected invite to his ex-wife's wedding, he scrambles to find a suitable date to take with him to ward off old ghosts from his past.

Notes: trans John, fat reader, smut - fingering, oral (f!receiving), riding/frotting, John's genitals are referred to as cock.

You’d been screening John’s calls and leaving his texts unread for the last fortnight, feeling worse and worse for it and not knowing exactly why you were doing it.

Each notification had your heart pumping in excitement for the possibility of him still reaching out despite your silence, and then thumping too hard in immediate anxiety and guilt.

“Stop moping and text him,” Kate said to you finally. She’d been watching you check your phone routinely throughout brunch and had noticed how you were only half focused in their conversations and slow to engage. You’d laugh a second later than the others and had forgotten what you’d ordered when it had arrived at the table.

“I’m not ready for dating.” You shrugged her off, looking back down at your phone.

She huffed and sent you a disbelieving look. Your other two friends currently present, Cass and Paige, paused their conversation to look at you doubtfully too.

“I’ve not seen you as happy as you had been recently when you were hanging out with him,” Kate said and the other two agreed. “I know this isn’t a confidence thing either. He said he liked you, and you clearly liked him.”

“Katie,” you said warningly.

“She’s not wrong,” Paige said and took a sip of her drink.

“I mean, hell, if you’re really set on not dating, then don’t! That’s fine, but text the guy back for god’s sake and hang out again. Or put him out of his misery.” She bit a large chunk out of her avocado toast as you slumped in your chair.

“He’s still trying, right? That’s what you were worried about?” Cass said, hitting the nail on the head.

Guiltily you looked down at the unanswered messages under John’s contact. It stung to realise that maybe John had been genuine that night and you’d turned him down so bluntly.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and typed up your reply, sending it before you could talk yourself out of it.

>> hi john sorry for the distance, i’ve been figuring some stuff out. make it up to you over coffee if you’re free later?

He didn’t leave you waiting anxiously for long, replying immediately with an affirmative.

“What did he say?” Paige asked.

“We’re meeting up later,” you said a little bashfully. “He said he’s looking forward to seeing me.”

Kate smiled knowingly. “Yeah, I bet.”

You elbowed her lightly and put your phone away. It was easier to settle back into the conversation with the group, easier to concentrate, with your chest not feeling so tight.

——

“Hey,” you greeted him softly inside the coffee shop later that day. He’d arrived early again.

You felt almost more awkward now than you had when meeting him for the first time.

“How have you been, Sunshine?” He asked as you took your seat.

“Good. Fine. Yeah.” You nodded before you shook it. “I wanted to apologise, John. For a lot of things but—“

“No need, Sunshine, honestly,” he waved you off gruffly, leaning forward in his seat as you shrank back in yours. “I’m just glad you’re happy to see me now.”

“I am,” you confirmed with a shy smile, sat opposite him and growing more relaxed at the pleased twitch of his moustache.

“So what’s been new?” He asked again.

You snorted. “It’s only been a couple of weeks since we last saw each other,” you said.

He blushed, the pink flush half hidden behind the beard he was growing back out.

“Guess I got used to all the updates throughout the day quicker than I’d realised.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before looking to the counter and sitting up straighter. “Do you want anything? My treat.”

Your smile had dropped at the reminder of how you’d skipped out of his life so suddenly; even though you didn’t owe him anything, you had grown to be friends before the wedding and you know you’d have been hurt if it was the other way around.

“Yeah, just an iced latte please,” you said before stopping him from standing. “Hey, I said I was making it up to you. I should be paying.”

He huffed a laugh. “Not likely. You’re making it up to me by sticking around, Sunshine. You didn’t have to come at all.”

“John…”

“One iced latte coming up,” he said and stood. “God knows why, they taste more of sugar than coffee.”

“That’s exactly why,” you huffed a hesitant laugh as he headed to the counter. When he came back a minute later and sat down with the drinks you took a sip before speaking. “To answer your question, work has been the same old, but I’m thinking of maybe getting a pet? Tied between a cat and a rabbit at the moment. If it’s a rabbit, I’ll need to sort the garden though, it’s little bit overgrown right now.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise and he put his tea down. “You got the tools for it?”

“I think my neighbour has a lawnmower and my mum probably has a pair of shears I could borrow for the hedges,” you hummed. It had only been a half thought semi-recently, so you’d not put much planning into the idea yet, just the start of a pinterest board of cute ideas.

“I could help,” he offered, a touch too casual. “If you wanted. I’ve got a lawnmower I don’t get to use too often and some time off before I have to head back to work.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said with a gentle smile.

He nodded.

“What about you?” You asked.

“Same old,” he said vaguely, repeating your own words back at you. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “I am having to go back to work properly soon though.”

You tilted your head, confused at his drab tone, certain as you were that you’d messaged once or twice when he was at work, stuck doing paperwork or in a meeting before the wedding.

“I’ll be heading overseas,” he clarified. “Might not be contactable for a few weeks at a time. Just didn’t want you to think…”

“That you were ignoring me to get back at me for the fact that I ghosted you?” You guessed when he trailed off. John nodded sheepishly.

“Fuck, I’m glad I’ve gotten to see you before I go,” he said quietly, just looking at you.

“Me too,” you agreed. Impulsively, you finished off your drink and made a quick decision. “Do you want to come back to mine for dinner? I’ll cook.”

John grinned brightly. “I’d love that.”

——

You busied yourself in the kitchen when you got back home with him, missing his chuffed smirk when he saw your door was still in working order with no sign of it dragging on the doorstep.

You didn’t miss his hum when he joined you in the kitchen a moment later.

“That shelf meant to be on a slant?” He asked, eyes shrewd as he looked at your collection of herbs and spices.

“Oh, no but I’ve just never found time to fix it. And it’s not fallen down yet, so it’s not even made an appearance on my Urgent List.” You shrugged.

He hummed again and headed back to the front door. “I’ve got my tool box with me, I’ll sort it now for you.”

“No, John, you don’t have to,” you called after him, but he was already out of the door. You didn’t know that he’d kept his toolbox in his truck ever since he was first here just in case you messaged again needing anything sorted, and now he was glad his foresight was paying off.

The shelf was sorted quicker than the kettle boiled and you swatted at him to go relax once he’d cleaned up after himself. He placatingly held his hands up in mock surrender and went to wash up in the bathroom while you rinsed some veg under the kitchen tap.

You were given ten minutes of peace before you started to wonder where he’d gone and left the pasta in the pan boiling and the sauce on a low heat to find him. You weren’t afraid to chew him out if he was snooping, but instead you found him hunched over the sink in the bathroom.

“Taps were finicky,” he said before you’d had chance to ask him what he was doing. When he’d had chance to grab his tools from the kitchen without you noticing you didn’t know, but you couldn’t help but snicker as he frowned down at the old taps.

“Don’t do well sitting still, do you, John?”

He shrugged. “Figured I might as well since I’m here,” he said instead.

You snorted. “Come help me with the sauce once you’re done here then.”

You stifled a laugh when you heard him swear through the open door before the sound of a running tap turned on and off a few times. He came back through to the kitchen a little later with a satisfied smile and you did your best to concentrate on cooking instead.

You smiled at him when he settled in next to you to take over stirring the sauce, leaving you free to set the table. You felt a pang of domesticity, it was all so easy with John.

You plated it up and sat down together. Eating dinner with him was just as easy, the awkwardness you’d felt walking into the cafe forgotten about completely as conversation flowed naturally between the two of you. Though you did have to fend the man off from planning to go out in the morning to get the wood to build you either a hutch for a potential rabbit or put up climbing shelves if you decided on a cat instead; he’d figured you’d be able to decide by time you’d finished the pasta.

“Best meal I’ve had in a while,” he sighed happily when he finished off the pasta. “Stunning.”

“Thanks, John,” you said bashfully. When you stood to take the dishes he moved quicker and grabbed the plate from your hands. You didn’t bother complaining, knowing how stubborn the man was already; instead you joined him and put the dishes away once he’d cleaned them, smiling to yourself as the pair of you worked in comfortable silence.

When all was put away and your kitchen was back to normal - now with a sturdier shelf - he smiled and headed for the door reluctantly with his toolbox in hand.

“Thanks for today, Sunshine,” he said softly and, after a brief moment of deliberation, he leant in to kiss your cheek. “Talk to you later?”

You nodded happily and closed the door behind him.

When you laid in bed later that night you couldn’t stop thinking about the gentle, chaste kiss. The only real one you’d shared so far.

——

You only got a week with John before he disappeared. He’d made you promise to keep him updated like you would normally so he could catch up when he got back again, but you tried not to overwhelm his notifications; sticking to a couple of texts every few days instead of the daily messages you’d quickly fallen back into.

If he wanted more you were sure he’d let you know and if he only skim read the mountain of messages and photos you’d still managed to send then you’d ease up next time.

He said he would be gone a month, tops, but you didn’t hear from him for two. You tried not to worry, his job wasn’t an exact science, but that fact could make you more anxious depending on the day.

It was a random Wednesday evening when you got a knock on your front door and your heart suddenly plummeted.

You walked to the door with shaking hands. The repercussions of John’s work had never fully occurred to you until this moment, or at least you’d done your best not to linger on it for too long. But now visions of the person on the other side of your door being someone in an official uniform, waiting to let you know weeks too late that John had—

John had shown up to your house unexpectedly.

“Sunshine.” He smiled.

Clearly tired, he stood on your doorstep with his hair damp and curling at the ends, his beard overgrown and his work gear still on, though a big bag was hooked over his shoulder. His smile never wavered, relieved when you answered the door.

“John?” You stepped to the side to let him in without a second thought and he trailed a heavy hand appreciatively down your arm.

“Cleaned up a little at base, but I haven’t stopped driving home since. I’ve had you on my mind as soon as we were wheels down,” he admitted with soft eyes.

You didn’t question his use of the term ‘home’ when referring to driving to yours after spending months in another country and you certainly weren’t going to think about how it made you feel.

“You should’ve gone back to yours to sleep, or at least dropped off your things,” you berated him half-heartedly. “We could’ve caught up when you weren’t running on— what? Four hours of sleep?”

“Knew you’d be my first stop.” He’d dropped his bag by the front door, his daft hat dropped on top, and was slumping onto your couch with a heavy sigh. “Should’ve left my shit at base maybe. Just didn’t want to have to drive back tomorrow.”

“Have you eaten?” At his slight shake of the head, you moved to the kitchen and started pulling something together, leaving him to relax. You knew he must be tired by how he wasn’t following after you, and your suspicions were confirmed when you came back with a thick sandwich, the last slice of a quiche you’d made earlier in the week and some picky bits from your fridge to find him asleep. You cringed at the lacklustre dinner, but you hadn’t been expecting guests and you were going grocery shopping tomorrow, so you placed it on the coffee table and sat down carefully next to him so he didn’t wake.

Turning down the volume on the TV, you let him nap as you watched a few episodes of your latest favourite. You couldn’t help but let your eyes dart over to him every so often to check on him, giggling when you noticed his mouth had dropped open during his well deserved catnap.

You paused your show when he grumbled and wiped a slow hand over his face a few hours later.

“Hello, sleepyhead. Hungry?”

“Starving,” he groaned croakily.

“Best I could do on short notice,” you said and handed him the plate. You watched like a big cat documentarian as he tore through the food with an unholy passion, finished in minutes. You silently handed him your water and he chugged it back with a loud ‘ahh’ after.

“Lovely as ever,” he said sleepily before nodding back off. You stifled a laugh and stood to grab him an extra pillow and blanket. It was clear he wouldn’t be driving home tonight, so you thought you might as well let him get comfy and crash on the couch for the night.

A brief thought crossed your mind of waking John and letting him share your bed; you’d done it for the wedding after all, and it wouldn’t have to mean anything.

You shook your head and draped the blanket over him. You knew it would mean something and you weren’t ready to make that step yet as much as you wanted it.

——

You woke in the morning to John using your shower and you smiled at him with raised ‘brows when he came back out dressed in more familiar civ clothes. You looked for the bag at the front door but couldn’t see it.

“Staying for breakfast or heading home?”

“Heading home, sadly. But I’ll call you later, yeah? I want to catch up properly,” he said. “Thanks for letting me stay, Sunshine.”

“Of course,” you said genuinely and in between bites of your cereal. “It was a nice surprise.”

He hummed and leant in to kiss your temple with a warm hand cradling the back of your neck. You tried desperately not to push into him and to ignore the thoughts of how he smelt like you out of your head; how if anyone tried to flirt with him on his way home they’d smell your strawberry shampoo and very berry body wash. How your spring air scented febreeze spray had sunk into his jacket from the couch through the night.

Your subtle mark was all over him and neither of you seemed to mind.

“Call me when you get home, John.”

He hummed, lingered for a moment more, then headed out with his bag in tow.

——

The bar was loud and your friends were still wide awake and partying strong, celebrating the news of Paige’s well earned promotion. You, however, were flagging.

It was late, and the prospect of staying out any later was making holding back a yawn nigh impossible. You’d never been a big drinker so you’d not been keeping pace with the others, a possible mistake since you seemed to lack the same energy as them, found firmly in their second wind. The last thing you wanted to do was bail but you didn’t want to bring the mood just down hanging around either.

Your phone buzzed and you smiled when you saw it was john.

>> Still awake?

<< for once yeah :p

>> What show has you gripped to binge watch late into the night this time?

You snorted.

<< out celebrating with friends, paige got promoted!!!

>> Tell her congratulations from me

>> What time does the party end?

<< idk but i’m ready for bed already 😪

<< taxi isn’t booked for another couple of hours tho :(

John’s speech bubble appeared and disappeared a few times and you watched the screen avidly.

>> Do you want me to come meet you to walk you home?

<< really??

<< would you mind? it’s late and a little cold so you don’t have to!

>> Send me the address and I’ll set off now

<< thanks john ❤️

Either John lived close or he’d ran there, as you’d only just finished telling your friends that you were leaving early when John turned up.

“You shouldn’t leave on your own, walking home at this time of night is dangerous,” Cass said worriedly, her words slurring slightly.

“I’m not, John’s meeting me to walk me home,” you said and flushed when they all cheered and whistled at the mention of his name; their catcalls gained volume and enthusiasm when John walked through the bar door a second later, head on a swivel as he looked for you in the crowd.

“Fuck off,” you hissed at your friends playfully and hugged them all goodbye before you headed over to John. He was grinning and waved happily over to your friends, nudging you when he saw the embarrassed scrunch of your shoulders.

“Good night?” He asked once you were on the path outside.

“Yeah.” You smiled. “She deserved the raise like three years ago, but at least they’re finally recognising all the work she does.”

John nodded along. He cursed a moment later when he felt a few raindrops. You both looked up at the gentle patter and gasped when it quickly turned torrential.

Your walk turned into a run as John grabbed your hand tightly and led you a little shop alcove near by, shoving you under and crowding in after you.

“Shit, I should’ve driven,” he blamed himself, looking at your soggy jacket and the rain that had splattered your round cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it, John,” you waved it off. “Bit of rain never hurt anyone.”

The pair of you were pressed close, his broad shoulders and your wide hips taking up the space in the doorway enough that you were both holding your breath in each other’s space.

“Just my luck really,” you said.

“It’s just British weather,” John corrected. “Don’t know why I wasn’t expecting it to rain in the middle of summer,” he joked.

You laughed and felt butterflies flutter at his mirrored rumble, focused on where your stomach pressed against his. You no longer felt tired stood with him.

It went quiet, with just the soft rain and the sound of the odd car passing by the only things heard for a moment as you both held your breath, eyes locked.

You leant forward those last few inches and pressed your lips against his. Your noses bumped and you automatically lifted a hand to tilt his chin slightly to adjust, pressing your lips a little firmer when he followed your guiding hold. His hands on your hips were reverent as he let you lead.

You delighted in the scratch of his beard for a split second before suddenly flinching back, your hand becoming firm against his shoulder to keep him from following.

“Fuck,” you swore shakily. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” he huffed with a confused smile.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” you insisted. You felt him lean towards you and firmed the stretch of your arm to keep him in place as best you could in the small space. “It’s mixed messages. It’s not fair to you.”

“I’m still waiting,” he admitted. “I’ll wait however long y’need, Sunshine.”

You ducked your head.

“I feel guilty,” you whispered. You swallowed thickly as the reasons were finally voiced even as you avoided his eyes. “I feel like it’s Charlotte all over again for you; I’m stringing you along when you could be finding someone else. I’m— it’s not fair,” you repeated.

He leant back in shock, a frown pulling at his brows and his mouth moving silently for a moment. John looked down at you from his tucked in chin and considered your comparison, knowing the quick denial on the tip of his tongue wouldn’t soothe you.

“Have you decided that then? You don’t want to be with me?” He asked finally.

You hesitated, unable to lie and say no, and he latched onto that with a fierce hold.

You thought back to what your friends had said, the fun you’d been having with him again, how natural it all was.

“Sunshine…”

“We could take it slow?” You asked.

“Of course,” he agreed readily, pushing those few inches closer to you in eagerness. “Slow and steady, whatever you need.”

“Ok.” You nodded.

“Ok?”

“I like you, John,” you admitted almost shyly, smiling up at him. “I want to try.”

In the next breath he ducked close to kiss you again.

You were pressed against the damp, grainy wall of the little alcove as he greedily slipped a hand beneath your shirt and hungrily kissed you, not stopping for a breath or a gasp now that you’d given the go ahead.

“W-what— happened t-to,” you gasped as he filled your space and every thought. The patter of the rain going unheard as his shaky breaths filled your ears and echoed torturously. “Take— taking it s-slow?”

He sucked on your lip before pulling back and panting, swapping breaths with you. “I’m not down on one knee, am I?” He asked as though you were being obtuse.

You snorted, eyes wide in disbelief. But you didn’t push him away, instead your grip kept him close.

He dipped in for another peck and you cupped his bearded cheeks.

“My house isn’t far from here,” you suggested softly. Testing the waters.

In a flash John was dragging you out of the alcove and down the street with you laughing as you splashed through the puddles to keep up with his determined pace.

“Wrong way, John,” you laughed and tugged at his arm, directing him the to follow you and head the other way towards your house. He crowded against your back, slightly off to the side, and you felt butterflies erupt at the sound of his low chuckle as your steps overlapped and you tripped each other in eagerness.

——

Once you were safely inside your home, it didn’t take long for you to get naked and climb on the bed. You dragged John along with you, clad still in his boxers.

He hovered over you as you laid back flat, his broad palms running from your ribs to your flank soothingly as he settled between your thick thighs.

His eyes were all black, the usual greyblue just a thin strip around the edges as he took you in in all your glory.

The need to make you keen and cream on his fingers was obvious by his hungry expression and the flexing of his hold on your softest parts.

“Been wanting this for too long, Sunshine,” he whispered. “Longer than you know.”

“Think I can guess,” you gasped as he lowered himself down and kissed your stomach, making sure to cover each curve and roll as he journeyed up, keeping his warm palms cupped and dragging up your sides as he kissed between your breasts. Your knees squeezed him at the ribs when he palmed one of your tits, using the light hold to lick a broad stripe over the sensitive nipple. He went back to kissing higher, trailing up along your stretched neck and biting teasingly at your earlobe before coming face to face.

“Any preferences?” Fingers, tongue, toys.

“I’d prefer to cum sooner than later,” you said cheekily, basking in his eye roll.

“Yes, ma’am,” he huffed good naturedly. “I’ll do my best.”

He leant down and kissed you, plunging and messy, not like the dry brush of lips in the rain or the rushed eager swaps of spit and squished smiles on the way home and into your bedroom. You brushed your hands over his furry chest and trembled pleasantly, raking your fingers through and sighing at the strength usually hidden beneath layers of baggy and comfortable clothing.

“John,” you sighed and he shuffled his way down back between your legs.

“Just lay back and relax,” he ordered before trailing his nose through your bush, huffing in an opened-mouthed breath with a pleased hum.

“Need a map?” You joked breathily, breath hitching when he huffed an amused breath at your opening, pressing a light kiss there afterwards. His thumb gently spread your vulva and he gave a gentle kitten lick. Using the building wetness he found he trailed his thumb lower to your arsehole and kept it there with little pressure.

“Nah, this is your clit, right?” he asked teasingly. You snorted, but felt your pussy clench and your muscles tense when he added a bit of pressure.

“John—“

“Relax,” he said again. He moved his attention and his hand back up. “Don’t need a guided tour, though I appreciate the offer; wouldn’t mind watching you show me what you like another day. But I know what I’m doing, love.”

He licked a stripe up your centre and your eyes fluttered, your hips pushing up into his hands when he puckered his wet lips around your clit and gently suckled. “Yeah, you do,” you whimpered.

He slipped his middle finger inside fluidly, no resistance, and you let out a soft sigh, your hips subtly raising to get him as deep as you could. He changed the angle of his mouth so his strong nose nudged at your bundle of nerves and he could mouth at your plush wet opening instead. He licked around his finger, adding to the sticky mess as you practically sucked him in.

He could tell by the flutters of your cunt that you were enjoying yourself, the pinch of your brow only adding to his confirmation when he looked up, but you were so quiet.

“Y’can be loud for me, Sunshine,” he said, curling his finger and grinning cheshire-cat-wide when your jaw dropped at the feeling. “Don’t be shy.”

“Give me reason to,” you said with a cut off gasp. “W-work for it.”

He felt heat rush to his core, fattening his already throbbing cock.

As you wish.

He hooked one trembling thigh over his meaty shoulder and focused back on the heat between your legs; like sticky syrup, slippery between the pads of his fingers as he dipped a second finger in beside the first.

He gave you a moment to clench around the thicker intrusion with closed eyes before setting a quicker, less forgiving pace than before. You let out a surprised grunt, your hand flying down to grip his hair as he sealed his lips to your clit with a wagging tongue.

“Fuck.”

His left hand moved to keep your hips still, strapped across your soft tummy like a seatbelt, his palm a firm pressure in the soft pudge below your bellybutton.

He broke the seal of his mouth to heave in a panting breath and nibbled at the soft skin of your thigh beside his head to catch his breath while his fingers continued to pull sweet noises from you.

You whimpered softly, dropping your hands to the mattress and clinging tight to the sheets and felt your cheeks heat up when John chuckled.

“Can’t tell what I prefer hearing,” he said and paused his fingers deep inside of you, spreading them to get a little look at the desperate cling of you around his long digits. Your creamy arousal slid down the back of his hairy knuckles and he revelled in the light squelch as you wriggled in his hold, urging his fingers deeper inside. “Your sweet cunt or your careful moans.”

“Please, John,” you asked. Pleaded. “I’m close.”

He slipped his fingers free of your tight clutch and shushed you with a smile when you whined. Licking his pruny fingers clean, he groaned at the taste.

“I’ll get you there, Sunshine, don’t worry.”

He left a wet smack of a kiss on your thigh before ducking back down and licking deep and insatiable into your needy cunt, his fingers focused on your sensitive clit instead, rubbing almost too hard and too fast as your hips pushed your cunt further into his mouth. His arm kept you locked close and unable to shift away, not that you wanted it to end, but the sudden onslaught of hyper-focused attention was a lot after his teasing and after so long without a partner. Your hand had made its way to the back of his head once more, cupping gently, but urging him forward with a steel determination. He wasn’t allowed back up for air until you’d cum.

He pinched your clit and you shrieked at the nip of pain beneath the pleasure, feeling yourself tumble over the edge as he huffed and grunted into your pussy like a man starved.

John held you close by the thighs with both hands as you arched and clenched on his tongue; slobbering and groaning against your tender vulva as you cried out. He gave your thigh one light but sharp slap as you flooded his senses; sweaty and salty, the taste and scent of you.

You collapsed back with a breathy little, hnngh, and let your fingers scratch lazily through his hair where he’d rested his face in the groove of your groin.

He hummed and dragged himself further up your body before slumping over you, kissing the taste of you into the back of your mouth, ingraining it into your tongue, gums and teeth as you whined and writhed beneath him.

“Jesus fucking christ,” you laughed tiredly into his mouth. “Gimme a chance.”

He smiled and ground himself against your hip. “Can’t help it, y’make me feel like a teenager.”

Your nose scrunched and he huffed a laugh. “A’right, won’t make that comparison again.”

You pecked his lips in thanks and slipped your hand down between you, gathering a glob of your own arousal between your fingers. Thoroughly lubed, you pushed your hand under the band of his boxers and rubbed the collected juices over his cock and watched his brow pinch in pleasure.

It was your turn to tease.

You leant up and kissed him open mouthed and slow, the tease of tongue against his lips as he humped against your hand, moans mingling in breaths shared.

You moved your hand lower, went to slip in a finger but he gripped your wrist tightly. You looked up with wide eyes, hand falling loose in his grip where it had stopped you in your tracks.

“No, not like that. I don’t— I don’t like—“

“That’s ok,” you interrupted his stuttering explanation, watching walls build up before your eyes that you were determined not to let solidify. He didn’t need them around you. “We can just keep doing it like before,” you offered easily with a smile and lingering kiss to his fuzzy cheek. “Whatever you want.”

John guided your hand back up hesitantly, watching you as though waiting for the other shoe to drop. He kept your fingers hovering over his cock once more and you pushed forward to rub from tip to root and back up again.

“Yeah?” You asked and watched as his shoulders relaxed again. He moved his arm to lean back on his elbow by your head and you smiled, satisfied with the show of trust. “Yeah, ok.”

You pushed against the spot just below the head of his cock, trapping it against his pubic mound and were gratified as he groaned low, like the sound was forcibly pulled out of him as he thrusted roughly against your fingers. John ducked his head and kissed you, missing the mark in his desperation and licking against the corner of your mouth instead.

You nudged your face up slightly and let him moan against your lips, quickly falling into the distraction of getting him dripping and close; pulling out all your tricks and feeling yourself get worked up in return whenever you felt him throb and pulse in your hand, his thick, hairy thighs shifting either side of yours.

He pulled back and you paused your ministrations immediately, worried you’d done something wrong again, but John hurriedly tugged his boxers down and off, kicking them away from the bed and diving back towards you with a ravenous kiss.

Rolling onto his back, John tugged you into his lap so you were straddling him and for the first time in his presence a burst of hesitance connected to your weight bloomed in your chest.

You lifted up on your knees slightly to relieve some of your weight from his hips.

“Oh, John I don’t know—“

“Come ‘ere, Sunshine,” he pulled your hips back down and urged you to ride him, moving with his own frotting hips as your vulva spread to soak around his cock.

With each grind, the head nudged slightly from its foreskin and kissed your clit perfect as you tilted back. You huffed a weak moan as he slipped through your folds and the schlickschlickschlick sounds of your combined arousal mingling and frothing between your thighs had you panting and moving quicker.

Once you found your pace, one hand balanced back on his hairy thigh and the other rubbing at your clit furiously, he lifted his hands from the fat of your hips and stomach up to thumb at your nipples.

You noticed how he moaned and tensed when you slipped heavily over his sensitive tip and grinned a little meanly as you focused a careful swivel of your hips to catch your slick centre on it. You clenched and gushed over his throbbing tip as he whined, gripping you tightly to try and pull you lower.

“Close?” You asked with a breathy giggle, feeling your own legs shake with the oncoming orgasm.

You traced gentle fingers over his faded top scars beneath his thick thatch of chest hair as he groaned and leant down to kiss him. It didn’t take much longer for you both to cum, both worked up and the constant, teasing brushes at your cores were enough to gradually tip you over the edge.

His hand in your hair kept your mouths attached as you panted hot and wet, and when you broke free to the side his beard was scratchy against your nose and cheek as you shuddered on top of him.

“John, fuck.”

“Just like that, just like that,” he thrusted up in jerky little motions before stilling.

You flopped to the side a moment later, less conscious of your weight but wanting to be comfortable, and he gathered you close immediately. He tucked you under his chin with a grunt, slipping a leg over yours.

“I’m not letting you out of this bed for a week,” he groaned sleepily. You hummed happily, exhausted. He let you drift off before whispering in your ear. “Sorry this isn’t slow, Sunshine, but I won’t be going back to being friends now.”

You grinned and nuzzled closer.

“I think we should go visit my home town next, only fair you meet my crazy family too, yeah?”

John closed his eyes happily and nodded. “Looking forward to it,” he said. “Though my rates are a little higher than £100.”

You pinched his thigh and laughed when he tried to squirm away with a hiss.

You kissed his neck chastely and tightened your arm around his waist, nodding off as you felt him trail a hand back and forth over your naked back.

[yoonguurt]

Pairing: non idol Jihoon x F!reader

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint, smut

Trope: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers

Word Count: 5,088 

Trigger Warnings: none

Summary: Jihoon always joins in when his group of friends makes fun of Mingyu for being a simp for his girlfriend. It isn’t that he thinks that a man shouldn’t go above and beyond for their significant other, it’s just that he hasn’t had a girlfriend that makes him want to go that far. Maybe one day, though.

A/N: This is for @ddeonghwa-s secret cupid event! Surpise @strawberry-skiess I'm your cupid! This honestly was hard to start, but once I started I just couldn't stop. I hope you enjoy it! Happy Valentine's Day (even though I'm a day late) Thanks to @kwanisms for this lovely little banner. I love it so much. This is for adults only, no minors allowed! I will fight you.

Read all of the other wonderful entries here

Smut Warnings: slight nipple play, dom!Jihoon, sub!reader, fingering, oral (f receiving) unprotected sex (do not), maybe two thigh slaps

“Well, if it isn’t the simp of the century.” Jeonghan’s voice floats through Jihoon’s ears and he looks to the door as Mingyu walks in. Over the last couple of months, calling their group giant a simp has become something of a ritual. They don’t mean it, they honestly think it’s adorable how whipped Mingyu is. And he certainly isn’t ashamed of it. He wears the title like a badge of honor. “Still single and bitchy, I see.” Mingyu’s retort is almost immediate, a cheshire grin adorning his face as he watches the rest of the group burst into laughter and Jeonghan’s face turn into a mix between a smirk and a scowl. 

Jihoon retreats into his thoughts while his friends chatter amongst themselves. He does think it’s sweet how much Mingyu loves his girlfriend, he just isn’t sure that he understands. Sure, he’s had a few relationships of his own, and while he cared about them, even loved one or two, he has never known the amount of love Mingyu seems to wield. His friend found his self described love of his life around 4 months ago and he’s been head over heels the entire time. Jihoon has watched Mingyu rush to get to his phone when he gets a text, with a special ringtone for his girlfriend, and smile like an idiot at whatever it is she has said.

He’s lived through Mingyu leaving nights at the bar solely because his girl wanted to cuddle. When her birthday came around, the two men spent hours going through unlimited stores while Mingyu tried to find the perfect present. Every time Jihoon suggested something, Mingyu had a retort on why it wasn’t good enough. The new cd by her favorite band? “I don’t have enough time to get it signed.” The pretty pink purse that screamed something his girlfriend would like? “I already got her that one.” Eventually, the tall man had settled on a necklace that Jihoon was certain cost more than a used car. Mingyu had the money to throw around, he guessed. 

Part of Jihoon wants to know what it’s like to feel like that. Another part thinks that it seems like a burden. He can’t decide where he stands on the topic. Sure, he wants that great love that novels describe, wants to give his heart to someone and know that they’ll always be there. But at the same time, he isn’t sure he’ll find someone that can deal with his finicky moods. There are times when he wants someone to cuddle, only to immediately change his mind. He knows that can be annoying, and he is working on it. One of his other issues is time. He takes his job seriously. 

Working as a producer, he is a busy man. He doesn’t know if there’s a person out there that will understand that sometimes, he loses himself in his work. His phone drifts to the back of his mind, dates forgotten without him meaning to. It’s the main reason his relationships have failed. He genuinely doesn’t mean to, and it’s another thing he has been working on. He’s been getting better at responding to his friends in a timely manner, he’s even taken to setting alarms on his phones so he doesn’t miss the planned hangouts. Sure, he still falls into the music and forgets the world around him, but he’s getting better.

There has always been an exception, though. You. His best friend. The two of you have known each other for years, having met in freshman year of college. Your sunny disposition sometimes clashed with the grumpy facade he puts on, but it’s always worked. A couple of his exes thought there was something going on between the two of you, but that’s never been the case. He just clicks with you. You understand him. You’re a busy woman, too. The journalism world stops for no one. 

“Isn’t that right, Jihoon?” He snaps head up toward the voice. Soonyoung looks at him expectantly, obviously waiting for him to agree with him. “Sorry, what?” The huff of air that comes from Soonyoung’s mouth lets him know how annoyed his friend is. “I said that it’s cute that Mingyu loves his girl so much, isn’t that right?” Honestly, he doesn’t know how to answer this. “Sure, it’s cute, but it seems exhausting.” The sound of a scoff comes from behind him and he turns to the sound. He hadn’t realized that you were here. He suddenly feels like he said something wrong, like when a teacher calls on you to answer in class and you fumble and answer wrong. It’s embarrassing for some reason. “So what I’m hearing is that you would find caring for your partner that much to be an inconvenience?” Everyone’s eyes flit between you and Jihoon, waiting for a debate to start. The two of you have always been like that. You’re able to have a small, argumentative conversation and then go back to joking like it never happened. 

Jihoon sighs deeply, knowing where this is going. “That’s not what I said.” His tone lets you know just how annoyed at having a conversation like this again. “I’m just saying that Mingyu’s level of simpdom sounds like a bit much. I’m happy he has someone that he loves so much, but being at her beck and call constantly sounds tiring.” Mingyu responds before you can even open your mouth. “That isn’t how it is.” His tone isn’t defensive in any way. He just sounds like he’s explaining something to a child. “She doesn’t ask me to do any of that. She actually encourages me to have fun with you guys. I just feel so happy that I have her and I want to make sure she knows that.” 

Jihoon stays silent for a moment, thinking over Mingyu’s words. He thinks to himself, wandering again if he’s ever had something like that. He thinks the closest thing he’s had is you. He’s dropped more things that he can count to be at your side when you need him. He’s even dipped on girlfriends because you were upset. Once, he canceled on his most recent ex just because you secured a front page spot for the local paper. He needed to be the one to celebrate your accomplishment with you, needed to be the first one to congratulate you. He didn’t want to think too deeply about what that meant. Sure, he had had a massive crush on you in college, he thought he might have been in love with you, but that had disappeared a long time ago. 

When you showed no sign of reciprocating his feelings, he decided to let it go, letting you go, at least in the romantic sense. 

Of course, there were still times where he’d look at you and think about how beautiful you were, especially when you’d just woken up and the light was hitting you in a specific way. But, that was just him appreciating your beauty as a best friend. He was sure of it. Realizing he had been quiet for too long, he glanced at Mingyu, nodding his head. “I guess I could see how someone could feel that way.” He chose to ignore the way Soonyoung cut his eyes toward him, knowing what he was thinking. Soonyoung had been the only person who had known about his college crush. He always insisted that you had felt the same, and that Jihoon still held a candle for you. 

“You’ll find it one day, Hoon. Don’t close yourself off to it.” Your voice is strained, though you try to hide it. You’ve always admired Jihoon, even if he was a bit closed off. He’d never really let himself go in a relationship. It was like he never felt comfortable. But you knew him at his core, knew how sweet and thoughtful he was. He had always been there for you when you needed him, which was probably why your love for him had never died. You’d tried to find someone else, dated people, even loved one or two, but not like you loved Jihoon. No one could compare. You’ve seen every side of him and there isn’t a single one of them that you don’t adore. He’s also been growing his hair and God does he look better than you’ve ever seen him. You can tell his confidence has grown a little and that is even more attractive. You know you’re well and truly fucked, but you aren’t sure you want to change that.

The night winds down and everyone gathers their things to leave. Soonyoung takes the time to pull Jihoon aside, making the younger boy look at his friend in confusion. “Look, I know you’re going to deny it like you always do, but watching you two pine after each other is getting hard to do.” Jihoon opens his mouth, only to be silenced by Soonyoung’s hand lifting in the air. “Have you ever stopped to think that there’s a reason that relationships never worked out for either of you? If you haven’t, then think about it, ok?” Soonyoung clapped his friend on the shoulder before he moved to hug you and tell you goodbye. 

“I’ll help clean up.” Jihoon’s words cut into your thoughts, distracting you from what it is you were thinking. You turned to face him, a teasing smirk gracing your features. “Take a look around. There’s nothing to clean up. Go home and actually get some sleep tonight. I know you have to be at the studio early tomorrow, just like I know you haven’t been sleeping. Just listen to me and go sleep.” He was baffled at how you knew that, but then again it was a talent you seemed to have. Knowing everything without him having to tell you. But then again, he guessed he had the same talent. It was like a sixth sense. Some real ‘There’s a disturbance’ shit. He simply nodded at you, saying goodnight and leaving without even stopping to think that you barely had to have any force behind your turn to get him to do exactly what you wanted.

The thinking came when he walked through his door. A lot of it. Soonyoung’s words began to float through his mind. Did they have any weight to them at all? Sure, relationships had really never worked out for the two of you, but that didn’t mean anything. Relationships come and go, that’s what they do. Occasionally, people get lucky and they find who they’re supposed to be with. Sometimes, they don’t. That was just life, it didn’t mean that the two of you were the reason the other’s relationships failed. The more he thought about it, though, the more merit Soonyoung’s words seemed to hold. Any time you needed him, he came running, and the same applied to you. You’ve both left dates and anniversaries because the other needed something. He’s had to assure quite a few exs that there was nothing romantic between the two of you and if he had to guess, he’d say you’ve done the same. Everything hits him at all once and he feels the need to sit down to process. 

You’re going through your own mental roller coaster. You know that Jihoon could find his person if he would just let someone in. It doesn’t have to be you, though you desperately want it to be, you just want him to find someone that will make him happy, someone that will bring out the loving side you know that he has. You sigh deeply as you lock up your apartment, making your way to your bed to get some much needed sleep.

You don’t hear from Jihoon for a few days, but that isn’t totally unusual. Sometimes he gets so lost in the music and you just wait until he’s back in the land of the living. But as a whole week passes, you start to worry. He’s never gone more than 3 days without speaking to you. You try to play through the events of the last time you saw him, thinking about if you had done something out of the norm. The only thing you think of is the conversation everyone had about Mingyu. He must have been offended that he was ganged up on, but then again that didn’t make sense. It wasn’t the first time everyone had had this conversation and he has never reacted like this before. It takes a split second for you to make up your mind and grab your purse and walk out the door.

Jihoon sits at his computer, staring past it like it’s not even there. He can’t focus, hasn’t been able to focus for a week. His thoughts always float back to you and how he feels. Now that he has realized he does in fact have feelings for you still, he can’t seem to bring himself to face you. What if he acts different? What if you realize? He can’t risk it. There are too many years of friendship on the line. Sure, not answering your texts is the coward’s way out, but he doesn’t know what else to do. As he had sat on his couch a week ago, the realization that he was in love with you hit him in the face. Damn Soonyoung. He would have been totally fine if he had kept being ignorant. Now though, he knows that he’d do anything for you. He knows that he already does do anything for you. 

The beeping on the keypad to his studio brings his attention back to reality. There are select few who know the code to his studio and he looks at the door with held breath, hoping it isn’t who he knows it is. You swing the door open, displeasure written all over your face. “What the fuck, Lee Jihoon?” He grimaces, hating that you’ve pulled his full name out of your pocket. If he didn’t before, he knows now that he is in deep trouble. He sits in his chair, slouching like a scolded child as you glare at him. “No text in a week. No reply in a week. Nothing to let me know that you’re even alive. Who the hell do you think you are?” Jihoon almost wants to laugh, thinking you’re adorable even when you’re angry, but he doesn’t dare. He knows that will only make things worse for him. 

Jihoon is hit with a sudden urge to touch you and he can’t hold back. He quickly stands and moves towards you slowly, watching as your demeanor changes. You go from angry to confused as you watch his steps. He stops in front of you, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry.” The words are whispered, but you can still hear them. All of the anger leaves you, almost. You hit his shoulder lightly, making him giggle slightly. “You damn well should be. Had my ass worried sick, asshole.” There’s a playfulness in your tone, one that you can’t help but let out. Your confusion grows as you realize that Jihoon hasn’t stopped hugging you. That is definitely different. Jihoon hates physical touch, he always has. In the entirety of your friendship, he’s only hugged you a handful of times and everyone has been quick, lasting only a few seconds.

“What happened to you in the past week for you to be so affectionate? You hate physical affection.” Your words come out teasing, trying to mask your genuine curiosity as a joke. He doesn’t answer for a moment, seeming content to just continue holding you. When he finally does speak, you choke on air, starting a small coughing fit. “Yeah, but I love you.” There’s no teasing tone. No joking. You can hear the sincerity in his voice. You have no words. No thoughts, head empty. 

Jihoon pulls back just enough to look at you and you can see the hesitation and worry in his eyes. You need to say something, you want to say something, but nothing is coming out. Your mouth is opening and closing like a fish gasping for air and you’re sure you look ridiculous. When you finally find words, they aren’t what you planned to say. “Are you sure about that?” Jihoon can’t contain his laugh and the sound hits you in your gut. It makes every fiber of your being tingle. Hearing him laugh brings you back to reality and you give him a playful shove, smiling and letting out a huff of laughter of your own. “Shut up.” There’s no real bite to your words and you know that he knows that. “I tell you that I love you and your response is to ask me if I’m sure?” He’s teasing you and loving it and you pout. “Hey! It’s a perfectly valid question!” Looking at him your heart surges with affection. 

“As funny as that was, I’m kind of panicking over here. A response would be nice, even if it’s a rejection.” Jihoon chews his lip as the nerves show on his face. You can’t help but smile at him and reach up and lace your fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. “Have I told you how much I love your hair like this?” Your statement throws him off guard and he looks at you with furrowed brows. “Wha-” You cut him off with a finger to his lips. “Almost as much as I love you.” The smile that comes across his face could light up a room with no lights. He leans down and presses his forehead against yours. “Are you sure?” He giggles against your lips as you give him a pout and a shove. His reaction is to pull you closer to him, pressing you as close to his body as possible. 

His eyes flit down to your lips before trailing back to your eyes, in silent question. You give him a slight nod, knowing that he’ll get the message. You watch as his lips slowly move towards yours, as if he’s teasing you by making you wait. You let out a whine of impatience and he giggles. He can’t help but give you what you want. When he finally presses his mouth to yours, it’s like the world explodes in a rainbow of colors you didn’t even know existed. You feel as if your entire purpose makes sense now that you have tasted his lips. It doesn’t take long before the sweet pecks turn into desperate, open mouthed kisses. His tongue dances with yours, fighting for dominance, which he quickly wins. The way he takes control of the kiss goes straight to your core. You’d thought about this and sure, you thought he’d be more of a dominant lover, but the reality is greater than what you could imagine. And this is only kissing. You can only imagine what it’s going to be like when he’s actually fucking you. The thought alone has your thighs clenching.

Of course, Jihoon notices even though you’re trying to be subtle about it. He pulls back with a smirk. “Oh? Is someone getting needy?” The way his voice drops in octave only causes you to clench tighter and let out a small whimper. Jihoon’s lips make their way to your neck, leaving small nibbles and kisses in their wake. “Aww. My poor baby. Already getting desperate, huh?” All you can do is nod against him as your hands grab at his shirt. He lets out a deep chuckle against the skin of your neck and the vibrations make you shiver. His hand slowly makes its way from your neck down the front of your chest, stopping just above your breast. He lifts his head to look you in the eyes, silent asking for consent. Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you take his hand, completely bypassing your clothed breast and placing it at the hem of your shirt. He takes the hint, leaning back just enough to lift your shirt from your body.

The chilly air in the studio causes your nipples to harden immediately and Jihoon’s eyes fall to your chest and darken with lust. His hands instantly find your bra covered breasts, pulling the cups down just enough to him to see your peaked buds. Taking one in between his thumb and index fingers, he pinches lightly, just enough to see your reaction. When you arch into him, he smirks, knowing he’s found something you like. “Hoon, please.” Your voice is light and airy, the need evident. “Please what, sweetheart? What do you need? You’ve gotta use your words, pretty.” The way you buck your hips and whine tells him all he needs to know. 

He moves his fingers to the button of your pants, making a show of slowly loosening the button. His teasing is both driving you crazy and making you more horny than you have ever been. Your hips are bucking into nothing, desperate for some sort of stimulation. When he finally gets the button undone, he sinks to his knees, pulling your pants down as he lowers himself. “Hands above your head, baby. No moving unless I say.” The softness of his tone does nothing to hide the dominance and it makes you weak. You nod and move your hands above your head against the wall. Jihoon flashes you a smile that makes your heart flutter. “What a good girl I have. You listen so well, my love.” 

When he taps your leg to signal for you to lift your legs to step out of the pants. You obey slowly, trying to tease him a little bit. A quick slap to your thigh makes you gasp, a moan slipping from your lips. “Behave. I’m trying to make our first time sweet. Don’t test me, angel.” His patience wavers slightly when he can’t wait to remove your panties, simply using his strength to rip them so that they fall off of you. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. “Holy shit, Jihoon.” He smirks like he knows how much his strength affects you, because he does. He doesn’t say anything, simply lifts your right leg and places it over his shoulder. Your breath hitches as you look down at him, making eye contact as he makes a show of sticking his tongue out, flicking it over your clit. The sudden contact makes you jerk forward and your eyes fall closed. Even though the action was nowhere near enough, it made you even more wet. You’re practically dripping at this point and once glance at the man below you lets you know that he enjoys the effect he has on you. 

He spends what feels like forever just slowly giving your clit kitten licks, driving you insane just as slowly. Without warning, his actions speed up. He grips your hips and harshly pulls them forward, shoving his face as far into your pussy as he can get it. The moan you emit is bordering on pornagraphic. Your fingers twitch, wanting so badly to grip him by the hair and ride his face. As if he can sense your thoughts, he pulls back, making you whine. “Don’t even try it. Move those hands and you won’t cum at all.” The slight growl in his voice does things to your insides. “Yes, sir.” Your voice is low and desperate and Jihoon groans, approving of your choice of title. 

He dives back into your cunt, quickly sliding his middle finger inside of you, his ring following a few seconds later. He curls his fingers, searching for the spot that he knows will make you come undone. It doesn’t take him long to find it, pressing the tips of his fingers against it and rubbing. You can’t control the sounds that come from your throat and you’re beyond glad the studio is soundproof. You can feel yourself getting closer to your peak and you do your best to communicate that. “Ji, please. So close.” Your hips are moving without your control, chasing your end on instinct. Jihoon leans back long enough to give you permission to come. “That’s it baby. Let it go. Let me taste you. Give it to me.” His words throw you over the precipice, launching your mind into a different plane, one that is filled with nothing but pleasure and the sound of his voice. Jihoon works you through your orgasm, slowing down gradually to draw it out as long as possible. 

“Breathe, love. In and out.” You don’t even realize how hard you’re panting, but you listen to him regardless. Your eyes are closed and your legs feel like jelly and you’re aware that you’re only standing because he’s holding you up. You aren’t sure when he stood, brushing his fingers across your face and through your hair. When you finally return to reality, he’s looking at you with concern. “Are you ok?” His voice is shaky with hints of worry and his eyes flicker all over your face like he’s looking for some sign of distress. It takes you a moment to respond and when you do, you can only say the first thing that pops into your mind. “Are you fucking kidding me? That was insane and amazing and I need your cock in me right now or I’ll die.” The laugh Jihoon lets out is loud and unrestrained and it makes you smile. 

He places a quick kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself briefly on his lips. His hands take hold of yours and he slowly moves you toward the couch that sits against the wall behind his computer chair. With another kiss, he steps back, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt. “Lay down on your back, baby.” You don’t even think before doing as he says, keeping your eyes on his as he lifts his shirt over his head. It isn’t the first time you’ve seen Jihoon shirtless, but the fact that you know what’s about to happen makes it all the more erotic. He drops the shirt on the floor, not caring where it lands, moving his hands to the basketball shorts he’s wearing. Your breath hitches in anticipation, and you refuse to even blink as he eases his shorts and boxers down together. When his length comes into view, your mouth goes dry. He’s the perfect amount of length and girth, not too long or short and you just know the stretch will be heavenly. He watches you look at him for a moment before he steps out of his clothes completely and makes his way to the couch where your body lies limp and needy.

His eyes wander your body, simply taking you in, clearly liking the way you’re spread out for him. “You are so fucking beautiful, do you know that?” The way he’s looking at you makes your insides turn to mush and you reach for him, making grabby hands at him. He gives you a soft smile, kneeling in between your legs and linking his fingers with yours. After giving each hand a kiss, he lifts them to fit around his neck, leaning down to give a slow kiss, full of nothing but love. Giving you one last questioning look, he waits for you to smile and nod before he reaches down to align his length with your entrance. When he pushes forward, it feels like the world expands and closes in at the same time. You’re hyper aware of everything while also only focusing on the feel of him. It’s like you’ve finally found a piece of yourself that you didn’t even know you were missing. 

The first thrust steals every bit of oxygen you have, replacing it with love and just Jihoon. The sound he makes causes a groan to erupt from your throat. He sounds wrecked already and you love that you’re the one that is making him that way. His face buries itself in your neck, lips littering kisses along the exposed skin. “Fuck, you feel so good.” You can tell that he’s holding himself back. You lift your head just enough for your lips to be close to his ear, giving it a soft bite. “Jihoon, you can be soft later. Right now, I need you to fuck me.” It seems like that’s all he needed to hear. He pulls his hips back until his cock is almost completely out of you before he slams back in. Hard. The movement jolts your whole body, shoving your head against the arm of the couch. Without missing a beat, Jihoon brings his hand down to place it between your head and the couch, his thrusts still hard and fast. 

With the combination of his speed, depth and roughness, you’re embarrassingly close to coming for the second time. You dig the nails of one hand into the skin of his back, the other making its way to his hair, pulling just enough for him to feel it. The groan he lets out lets you know that he very much enjoys that. Your moans are loud and mixing with the filthy babbles that are coming from him. Praise of how good you feel, how badly he’s wanted this, how you’re his now. Your orgasm hits you full force without you even realizing just how close you were. The squeezing of your pussy around his cock and the look on your face has Jihoon following you immediately, filling your cunt with every bit of cum he has. You look up at him, and his breath hitches. You’re so, so beautiful and so, so his. Looking at you like this, he knows that he would do anything for you. Anything just to see you happy and smiling. He would eat glass if that would cause you joy, even though he knows it wouldn’t. A sudden realization hits him and he lowers his head.

“Shit, I’m a simp, too.”

[thetadispatcher]

The RK900 gave him a suspicious look, deciding he'd show some of his internal emotions to see what reaction he'd get from the human. He felt showing a little would help him get a better read of Bishop, and exactly what he wanted from his attempts to upset him.

"Possibly, I wouldn't know as I don't have much to base it on. The only siblings I've interacted with are an android and a human, and two half siblings." And he felt basing anything on Gavin's behavior would be pointless, his partner wasn't a good tool for learning as he seemed to have behaviors that only applied to him.

"Wouldn't be the first time, and I doubt it's far from the last time any government body will do that." Hugh said with a roll of his eyes, he wasn't excited to see how the military would handle it once they found out. He knew it would just be a bunch of lies and finger pointing, not them trying to use the situation to look good for anyone who was pro android. They'd likely find it wasn't worth it to take that angle for the situation as there wasn't enough humans like that to make it worth it.

"I did send him their way, that was the only task I could think to give him." Dan had sent Kelvin to help box up whatever toys the group had picked out, after he'd asked the other androids if there was anything they might need his help with.

"I'm sure he'd appreciate any help that she can offer with his memory issues, I have noticed he does seem a little upset when he's forgotten something he's learned." Kelvin seemed the most upset by his memory loss then anyone else, they'd just accepted that they would have to reteach the android certain things and that he wasn't deleting things on purpose, so there was no use getting upset with him.

"I don't think that thought cross their mind, and if it did, they likely didn't want to explain why they had sold him." Brent had been a gift, not something the studio had ordered, so they likely didn't have to explain why he'd been sold off after they'd pretended to appreciate the gesture.

"He's just up in the garage." Most of the industrial units hung out in the garage, he suspected it was due to the environment being more of what they were accustomed to, as many had never stepped foot into a house so it was new territory for them.

"I have to talk to the construction units anyways." Dan explained as he lead the way to the garage, through the door that connected to two buildings.

A bunch of male and female androids were standing around talking happily and laughing, well some were working on various projects in different sections of the garage.

Dan walked over to the group that was gathered around a car listening to a far younger looking male android explain something in a heavily accented voice. He turned to look at the PL600 as he finished and the group dispersed to do whatever he'd instructed them to do. "Break somethin'?" The android asked with a chuckled, his smile widening at the annoyed look Dan gave him.

"Perhaps, you looking to be next?" The PL600 replied, knowing the other wouldn't take the threat seriously or be offended by it. "Not right now, but I'll let ya know if I change my mind." The other responded cheerfully, clearly enjoying the banter.

The android leaned onto the car jack he'd been holding onto as he looked Rook over. "Now you I don't recognize, name's Ellis." He paused as Dan said something to him using their link. "I don't go by anything else, in case ya thought I renamed myself like Brent. Comin' up with names is hard, and I'm fine with the one I got. Suits me jus' fine." He explained now that he knew why they had come to see him.

"Yeah, I got myself thrown in the junkyard 'cause apparently I wasn't the 'hot seller' my owner thought I'd be. He was wrong a lot, but I' glad I don't have to deal with 'im anymore. Hard to miss a man who felt the need to correct me, like I didn't know how to do the thing I was made for." He rolled his eyes as he recalled the man who'd been his owner, there wasn't much he could say that was nice about him and he wasn't about to try.

"I'm fine with people talkin' to me 'bout who I was modeled after an' stuff, don't bother me. Or other video games, old ones really. Like Jazzpunk, that's an interestin' one."

It was difficult to read Bishop when he could maintain his usual frowny look regardless of the circumstances. His android counterpart specifically chose not to show a greater range of emotions, despite being more open about them, but the agent had spent several decades pretty much surgically removing his.

There was no reason for him to stick around to play a card game and chat when he could be off helping with important research back at the base. But since going back currently wasn't an option, a usually well hidden side of him was beginning to show as he specifically went out of his way to bother Nines.

He couldn't do otherwise. He had to antagonize the other person in the room who was keeping him from having full control of the exchange.

"That's what they all say." At least it was entertaining enough to keep him from trying to find enrichment by starting a fight.

"At this point, all the military can do is hide its involvement in case there is an investigation." He would know. He had done that plenty of times.

"Yes, you can ask Willow to give it a shot." Rook replied, "She might not have a long conversation with him, but she might be able to give you some more information on Kelvin or the way he thinks. It kinda sounds like he's trying to save the stuff you're teaching him on bad sectors of his memory. Maybe she can do something about that."

It was likely that Willow was still listening in on the conversation, but she found showing up with a solution to somebody's problems unprompted could feel a bit condescending. The best way to do this was to inquire her directly.

"That sucks. But at least they didn't start selling him around like a rare collectible." She would make sure to not bring the topic up with Brent though. He deserved to be treated like he was his own person. "Sure, I'd like to meet this other guy."

It was better than getting chased around by mutants.

[cutiecusp]

Galentines, a 141 drabble.

Just a little fluff for us girlies, happy Galentines!

.........................

"What's all this for?" John asks, as you put another handful of pink and red in the trolley, smile beaming as you deposit chocolates, decorations, and snacks.

"Its Galentines!" You smile, eyes shining.

"The girls and i get together, bring a dish, and watch rom coms or something together, with a few games and snacks. It's my chance to show the love for my girlfriends this year."

John smiled, seeing his birdie radiating happiness always put him in a good mood.

"So what do you need?" He asks, his Captain brain mentally checking off things on a list.

"I have decorations, and sweets, i just need something for the girls to drink, and then i can go home and set up."

Nodding, John turns the trolley to the drinks aisle.

"Want those fancy straws and cups we had for your birthday?" He asks over his shoulder, smirking at the heart eyes you give him.

"Perfect." You reply, throwing your arms around his middle.

./././././././././././././././

"Babe, the girls are over later, can you pass me the baking tray?" You ask Johnny, who was wolfing down his cereal, staring at his phone.

"Johnny!" You say a little louder, startling him.

"What do you need, hen?" He replies, putting his phone down.

"The baking tray, im making those heart pastries for the girls tonight."

He hands you the tray, a furrow in his brow.

"Have i forgotten something?"

You roll your eyes, lately Johnny had been glued to his phone, so probably didn't even hear you talk about your plans.

"Galentines, the party?" You remind him gently.

A look of recognition passes over him, getting out of the chair, he wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck.

"M'sorry lovie. Just had a lot on my mind." He apologises, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"Gotta head out early today, need anything for your party?" He asks. You reply with a shake of your head.

With a quick kiss on your cheek, he heads out the door, waving to you from the car.

"Wonder what has him up so early?" You muse.

Little did you know, he's been planning a valentines surprise, and was waiting on the notification on his phone to say it was ready.

./././././././././././././././././././

"The red ones or the pink ones?" Kyle asks, holding out both pairs of shoes from your closet, trying not to stare at you in your pretty outfit.

"I think the red?" You mull over, taking them both and trying them on, walking around your flat.

You and Kyle had been friends for a really long time, so when the opportunity arose that you needed a flatmate, he was the perfect person to ask. Little did you know, he had feelings for you that you matched with your own.

"R-red's good babe." he admits, watching the way the heels made your legs look longer, he wonders what they would look like wrapped around his hips.

You smile, fiddling with the buckles on the ankles before standing up to your full height, even in heels you came up to Kyles chin.

"You look pretty, where are you and the girls headed tonight?" He asks, focusing his gaze on yours.

"The cocktail bar in town, then i think Harriet wants to go to the strip club, they have a male show on tonight." you reply, a little blush fluttered over your cheeks. You wonder what it would be like to have Kyle dance for you.

"Ah, strippers, cocktails, heels.. bad combo, will you need picking up?" Kyle smiles, a dimple flashing in his cheek.

"You read my mind, if you don't mind waiting up?" You laugh, your eyes shining with mirth.

"Let me know when you need me, and i'll be there." With a deep look, you realise Kyle meant so much more than just tonight.

You lean in, the night now charged with a thick tension.

"Promise?" you murmur, eyes not leaving his.

"Promise." He answers easily, before taking you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

./././././././././././././././

"I miss you." You say into the phone, Your face appearing on Ghost's screen.

"I know, love. But I'm home soon." A gruff voice answers.

"Did you get my flowers?"

You smile, panning the phone back to show him the vase and the matching flowers, a mixture of the darkest tulips and lilies he could find.

"I did, and i love them. Thank you." You beam.

"And you are all ready for the girls thing tonight?" He asks, his voice softening as he relaxes in his chair.

"I am, nice to have the girls over, but-" You pause, not wanting to add the the guilt you knew he was feeling already.

"I know, soon." He finishes your sentence for you.

You hear a commotion on his end, and the call drops suddenly, you send him a text to say you will ring him after the girls leave.

You spend the day prepping food, and making sure the house is clean, along to a playlist of all your favourite alternative love songs.

The party is a success, the girls took your mind off Simon for the night, facemasks, a movie marathon and enough snacks to shake a stick at made you appreciate your girlfriends more.

Shortly after midnight, and the last girl had gone, you heard a key in the door, and there he was.. With a massive smile on his face.

"Told ya it would be soon, love." he mumbles into your hair as you pounce on him, pressing kisses all over his face.

"Happy Valentines."

././././././././././././././.

@kaeyasfuturewife @xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @renpodz @yesornowaitidontknow @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @oniraki @evie-119 @havoc973 @kylies-lover-blog @ishipdabands @cmbghost @heckinspooks @midwesternwitchery @eggy-yoke @redzluvvesage @masterclassofescapism @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @skeletonsucker

[hedwig221b]

hii ! do you have any recs for hale pack underestimating stiles or like stiles being underestimated generally and then he always proves them wrong? pleasee and thank uuu <3

and anon asked:

hiiiiiiiii, do you have any fic where like the pack or everyone thought stiles is weak and they always underestimated him??? i love badass stiles SO MUCH. thank uuuu!

Let's see how you like this bunch...

I Don't Need Protecting by halcyon1993

After Derek casts him out of the pack, Stiles is left completely alone, the perfect target for the newest enemy looming on the horizon. Now in the clutches of a vicious pack of alphas, tortured, mocked and fed up of being seen as weak, he's determined to prove to everyone who doubted him that you should never underestimate Stiles Stilinski.

They Never Learn by gryvon

Five times Stiles Stilinski was underestimated by someone outside his pack.

Never Underestimate Stiles Stilinski by haletostilinski

Derek is taken and tortured by hunters, who are confident that they have the upper hand. But they haven't met Stiles yet, who will stop at nothing to save Derek.

with bloody feet across the hallowed ground by owlpostagain

There were no last words. No more pleas, no more screaming. Just the sound of Stiles squeezing the trigger, the explosion of a second shot rocketing out of the revolver, and the hunters bursting through the open doorway just in time to see the bullet slam squarely into the center of Derek’s chest.

It seems wasted now by DaaroMoltor

It's been months. Months of lonely days and lonelier nights. And Stiles can't understand what he did wrong.

Wild Card by Onlymystory

Stiles doesn't really care if other people think he can fight. He knows what he can do. And he knows exactly how to save his pack when they're captured by the Alphas.

Can't rely on me by Littleredridinghunter

Set at the end of season 2, Gerard beats Stiles up, but it's a lot worse than anyone knows. The pack let him down, that's not really a surprise lately. When Danny finds Stiles nearly bleeding to death the next day it's the start of a beautiful friendship. Can the pack make amends before it's too late? Will Stiles ever forgive them for not being there for him when he needed them the most?

The Pretty Things (are going to hell) by FaeryQueen07

“You have something of mine,” Stiles says, and he reaches for his hood, pushing it back to reveal the rest of his face. Lips curled up in a smile promising pain and eyes like death, he says, “And now I’m going to take it back.”

The Boy Who Tamed the Sourwolf by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle

Stiles is used to being second tier in everyone's life. How easily people forget him and move on to bigger and better things. Used to always being in someone's shadow. Leave it to Derek Hale to shatter those expectations.

Red Witch by rootbeer

The red hair of a banshee. The red eyes of an alpha. The red hoodie of a mage. The red of fire burning. Derek Hale has been a prisoner to the hunters since they burned his family alive. But now someone has come to save him: skinny, defenseless Stiles--147 lbs of skin and fragile bones. Turns out, sarcasm isn't his only weapon.

Lone Wolf by Kikileduc

Complete spin off after season 2, but does have season 3 and so on elements. Stiles feels forgotten, he feels left out. So he does something about it, while getting reacquainted with nature he stumbles on to something else. If the pack doesn't need him, if his dad wants him to stay out of it all, well, maybe he just needs a distraction in the form of 3 adorable wolf cubs!

And miles to go before I sleep by Heart_Of_Steel_And_Fandoms

Stiles leaves Beacon Hills at the end of Sophomore year. He's been abandoned by the pack, scarred by the hunters, and carries the equivalent of a volcano of magic inside him. Needless to say, his life sucks. But when Stiles comes back to Beacon Hills, over a year later and with a new persona, he isn't the same powerless human the pack remembers. And when demons threaten Beacon Hills, he proves to everyone that sarcasm isn't his only defence.

Dragon's Breath by trilliath

Between the hunters and the monsters that have interfered with life in Beacon Hills, the pack has had to learn a lot in the last few years, including Stiles teaching himself to practice magic in private. It's not exactly a secret from the pack, but it's not something he's shown much. When it comes time to put his skills to the test, Derek is the only one who finally gets to see Stiles's wild magic put to use saving Erica's life from a new threat in town. The aftermath changes something between them, and those tenuous lines tangling them together may mean the difference between life and death for them both.

Other fic recs: angsty fics | possessive Derek | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse | witch!Stiles | creature!Stiles | bad friend Scott | pack mom!Stiles | unrequited love | werewolf!Stiles | dark sterek | single parent!Stiles | feral Derek | arranged marriage

[drewswife]

How Arabella and Rafe met ♡

a/n: sidenote: Arabella is 6, and Rafe is 7 in this because he is 11 months older than her.

Arabella skipped down the driveway, her bright pink boots flashing in the afternoon sun. Her dollhouse, a magnificent creation of painted cardboard boxes and mismatched furniture scavenged from around the house, sat proudly on the lawn. Today, Princess Petunia and Sir Reginald the Third were having a disagreement about who got to use the sparkly purple teacup. It was a matter of grave importance.

Suddenly, a flash of red whizzed past on the sidewalk. A boy on a bright red bicycle, his blond hair a tousled mess, zipped by, a frown creasing his brow. Arabella stopped, Princess Petunia and Sir Reginald momentarily forgotten. She'd never seen him before. He had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen, like a stormy sea, but they didn't look very happy right now.

The boy wobbled to a stop, one foot on the ground, a sigh escaping his lips. He seemed annoyed by something, or maybe everything. "Hey," Arabella called, trying to sound cheerful. "Do you like my dollhouse?"

The boy glanced at it, unimpressed. "Yeah, whatever," he mumbled.

Arabella clapped her hands, her pink boots doing a little jig on the driveway anyway. "It's Princess Petunia's castle!" she announced importantly. "And this is Sir Reginald's tea party, but he's being a bit naughty."

The boy shrugged, kicking at a loose stone on the sidewalk. "Can I go now?"

"Only if you're a brave knight," Arabella declared, puffing out her chest. "Princess Petunia needs a knight to help her defeat the grumpy dragon who stole her favorite hairbrush."

The boy rolled his eyes, but something about the word "dragon" seemed to catch his attention. He looked at the dollhouse again, a flicker of something in his blue eyes. He looked around, then grabbed a stick from the grass, a small, almost reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "This is my sword," he muttered.

"Excellent!" Arabella cried. "What's your name, brave knight?"

"Rafe," he said, the grumpiness starting to fade.

"I'm Arabella," she replied, curtsying deeply like she'd seen in a movie once. "Welcome to Princess Petunia's court!"

And just like that, Rafe, the grumpy boy with the blue eyes and the red bicycle, found himself drawn into Arabella's world of make-believe.

taglist: @chrislilcumslvt @chrepsi @nickgurl4life

a/n: this took me like 2 days why, don't even ask

[malevampiricsiren]

the amount of hate i’ve experienced as a tman/tmasc is so shocking especially because a lot came from online queers and even other trans folk.

it disheartened me a lot seeing how trans men are treated online, ESPECIALLY by trans people and queers. we’re often forgotten, fetishized, have femininity forced on us, and are treated like villains for wanting to be / being men. even IN queer communities too!!

ive seen a post here on tumblr where someone was trying to vent in a trans discord server about how trans men are treated and usually ignored and erased and other trans people chimed in, telling him that its his fault because “of course he would be. no one wants to be around a masculine man”.

a trans woman (who used to act on the hate/undermined the hate and discrimination tmen/tmascs go through) once told me on reddit that it often comes from them being uncomfortable with masculinity as a whole so some of them would force it on us then blame us whenever we got upset over the way we’re treated.

i was once even told by a trans medicalist that i wasnt trans because i never experienced dysphoria before and i almost believed them since i didnt know much about trans stuff at the time!! if it werent for the people rightfully calling them out on it and telling me that i could instead have gender euphoria (which i do!!) and if it werent for them i wouldnt have realized that i was trans.

im lucky enough that i dont get much dysphoria or dysmorphia dressing fem still and actually love dressing that way! its just annoying how much its expected of us since we “were women at some point”. we’re fetishized in stereotypically feminine ways (ie: ftm porn often has us bottoming or doing more “fem” roles)

but then again, all this hate towards tmen/tmascs came from twitter and a subreddit thats well known for hating non binary tmen so LMAO dont know what i expected

Can we take a moment to think about the younger trans men and mascs on tumblr right now?

I was a teenager when ace and transmed discourses were at their peaks, and I can’t exaggerate how badly it affected me then.

Now trans men are the latest target, and I’m terrified for trans kids.

It’s easy to say “intracommunity discourse is an online problem! Go talk to queer people irl!”, but people forget that so many kids and teenagers do not have safe or reliable access to IRL LGBT+ communities and support groups. For many, online spaces are the only option.

We need to make sure the younger members of our community are being heard, and block out the hateful voices with messages of support and encouragement. Things are bad enough for trans people right now, and it's easy to forget that trans minors are often the ones suffering the most.

To any younger trans men or transmasculine people reading this:

The hate you are experiencing isn’t normal, it hasn’t always been like this, and it won’t always be this way. It is bleeding out from a small, miserable group of self-absorbed jerks.

Don’t feel obligated to call them out, don’t feel like you have to interact with these people. Please don’t doomscroll through discourse tags; it will make you feel like everyone is out to get you.

If you want to speak up for your community, that’s fine, but please take a break if you feel like your mental health is worsening. Block anybody who so much as breathes rudely in your direction.

You’re just as trans as the rest of us. You are welcome here.

Oh, and if you want to seek out external resources and groups, PFLAG helped me a lot when I was younger. It is an American-based organization, however, so if anyone has recommendations for those living outside of the US, please let me know in the reblogs!

[megumiluvv]

“Oh, by the way, what are you getting your partner for Valentine’s Day?” Choso hears his coworker ask him.

Valentine’s Day. He had almost forgotten. What is he going to get you? Should he plan a date? He can’t, you’re Yuji’s babysitter. He doubts Gojo will let the boy stay the night during Valentine’s of all days. What is he supposed to do?

“Uh, I’ll show you next time I see you.” He quickly covers for his coworker.

“Hah, can’t wait, see you later.”

He can’t believe that the coworker bought that poor excuse. Now he just needs to come up with something. He’s scrolling through his phone when his phone dings. A message from Sukuna.

Of course! How could he forget that he has an uncle? Sukuna can handle watching Yuji for a night, right? As if he has plans anyways. He checks the text from the older male.

“Are you needing a babysitter for tonight or do you not have plans?”

“I was just about to text you.” Choso replies, though he obviously just got the idea. “Can you watch Yuji for the night?”

“I guess, you’re so inconvenient.”

“You messaged me first, uncle.”

He can imagine the scoff his uncle just let out.

“Fine, but if he cries and asks to FaceTime you, it’s not happening.”

“Fine by me, I’m hoping I’ll be too busy to answer anyways.”

“Enjoy your date, wear protection.”

“Don’t be inappropriate, uncle. And thank you.”

With that handled, he hurries home and packs a bag for Yuji. The pink-haired boy enters the apartment with a big grin and a bag full of candy. He had a Valentine’s party in class today.

“Choso, guess what?? Megumi gave me his special present! He said he only gave it to me!” Yuji shows off a small stuffed tiger.

“Aww, that’s sweet, did you have fun?”

“Yeah! Lots and lots of fun! And I have a lottt of candy!”

“I see that. I’ll make sure it’s safe. You’re going to uncle Sukuna’s house tonight.”

“Why?” Yuji tilts his head.

“Because I have plans for Valentine’s Day.”

“Okay!”

Yuji plays with his new stuffed animal and you step into their apartment. The boy’s eyes light up and he runs to you.

“Look look! See what Megumi gave me? He gave it to only me! It’s a tiger!”

“I see, I see, Yuji. It’s amazing.” You reply and ruffle the boy’s hair.

Choso smiles and watches you two interact. Your smile is always full of kindness, so full of affection… Yuji giggles and tries to fix his disheveled hair.

“I’m going to my uncle’s tonight!” Yuji grins.

“Oh? Why’s that?” You tilt your head to Choso.

“I was planning a date for us.” Choso explains.

“Aww, how sweet! I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned.” You smile to the ravenette.

Sukuna picks up Yuji, and you go to your apartment to dress nicely. Now Choso has another dilemma. Every restaurant he would rather take you to is reservation only tonight. Talk about bad luck. He refuses to go somewhere less than five star, so he quickly sets up his table to look like it’s ready for fine dining.

When you re-enter Choso’s apartment, you smile a bit at the gesture. “Dining in tonight?”

“Sorry, it’s last minute. But I do have some meat ready to be cooked. Anything you want. We can even try making a cake again.” Choso rubs your hips with his thumbs, a little nervous for some reason.

“Hmm, let’s share a pasta. Like that dog movie Yuji watched.”

Choso grins and prepares the pasta while you make a cake. You decide to play some music so the kitchen isn’t silent. An hour later, everything is ready. You let Choso sit you at the table and he takes the seat opposite you. You both share a large plate of pasta and a slice of cake topped with strawberries.

“I think this is nicer than any other date I’ve had for valentines. Most guys just gave me flowers and chocolates and then took me to wherever they wanted for the date.” You think out loud.

“Yeah, this is much nicer than other dates. And we haven’t really had a date since that first one. Since I’ve been busy and Yuji hasn’t really been out of our hands.”

“I haven’t even realized that much time had passed. Feels like no time passes when I’m with you.” You smile.

Choso’s heart flutters. How can you continue to be so perfect, all the time? The two of you wash dishes and the music changes to a slow dance song. Choso dries his hands and offers one to you.

“May I have this dance?”

You grin and take his hand. “You may.”

His other hand meets your waist while yours rests on his shoulder. You keep eye contact as you both sway in the kitchen, soft music filling the moonlit room. The quiet click of heels on the tile matches the beat of the song.

“Thank you for tonight, Choso. You always manage to sweep me off my feet, no matter what you do. Cooking dinner with you and sharing it is more intimate than some restaurant, and I appreciate it more.” You smile as he pulls you closer.

“I should be thanking you for agreeing to everything last minute. I honestly forgot what today was until a coworker talked about it.” He huffs out of annoyance of himself.

“Things are worth waiting for if it’s you. Last minute or not, I’m glad to spend Valentine’s with you.”

“…you’re an angel after my heart.”

“Would you let me have it?” You giggle.

“Gladly.”

You both smile and share a kiss, lips pressing and molding each other’s as if they were made to connect. He carries you to his room, ready to celebrate Valentine’s Day in a different way with you.

Happy Valentine’s Day!! ᰔᩚ

Masterlist

Taglist (ask to join anytime): @samaraxmorgan @cherriee-ee @auor4 @chaotic-ish @meowsannie

@mediokerrv @mysteriaqueen @flooftoof @dazaisfavgf @theirlgarfield

@jasminelee324 @t-candy @luvdella

[benz12313]

Love's Surprise Pt. 2 - Ridoc x Reader 🌶️

{Images are not my own}

Summary: You and Ridoc have been dating for months now, and it's your first Valentine's Day together? What does he think about the gifts you have prepared for him? Will you two enjoy yourselves?

Warnings: ‼️(MDNI) 18+ explicit content‼️, smut, oral female receiving, oral male recieving, p in v, smut with feelings, swearing, fem!reader, drug use/smoking churum, aphrodisiac chocolate consumption, established relationship, mating press (but no breeding kink usage), slight dom behavior, use of 'good girl', unprotected sex,

Part 1/2

Authors Note: This took me waaaay too long to write but goddamn was it worth it in the end. I just couldn't stop writing. I could've kept going but nearly 4,000 words is a lot man! I hope you all enjoyed this fic and had a great Valentine's Day! :)

Word Count: 3,917

I hastily locked the door to my room behind us, and Ridoc’s hands squeezed my waist from where he stood between me and my bed, where the remainder of his gifts still laid. At least the ones I wasn’t wearing. I turned in his arms and his mouth was suddenly on mine, as he gently backed me up into my door. His hand moved between my back and the door, making sure it was barely a caress, and effectively caring for my sore back. 

My sore back that I’d forgotten was even there, but he hadn’t. No, he never forgot shit like that. Always acutely aware of how I was doing, what injuries I’d sustained. Even minor ones like bruises. My gods, I love this man. I love him. I love him. I love him. 

Ever since we’d said it, the thought had consumed me, like I was finally allowed to talk about this grand secret I’d been keeping firmly locked away, even from myself. 

He tugged my face closer as he wound a hand through my hair, and slipped his tongue into my mouth. I moaned as he deepened the kiss, and pulled him in, my arms wrapping around his neck as I arched closer. Always closer. I could never seem to be close enough to Ridoc. 

“Love,” He panted, voice deeper than before, making my body warm. He detached himself from my mouth, though reluctantly. “Before I totally lose sight of the point of coming up here…” He grinned cockily. “And before I really get my hands on you…what exactly did you want to show me?”

“Well, two go together, and then I have a fourth…more permanent item for you.” I said, suddenly a bit bashful. The first two, I knew he would like, but the fourth? The fourth was definitely more…sentimental. And the fourth was the one I’d have to give him first. 

“I’m a little confused but I think I like where this is going.” He chuckled, face softening. “Whatever you’ve got, I’m sure that I’ll like. No need to be nervous Y/N.”

Sometimes I hate that he knows me so well. I sighed before taking his hand and leading him to the bed. Gesturing for him to sit before sliding onto the bed myself and gripping the package box. I took a deep breath and opened it, quickly scanning the items left. The dozen little chocolates, the two churam joints, and then the item I was truly afraid of in this box. The little compass necklace I’d had Violet commission for me. 

I delicately took it out, and handed it to him, face quickly turning crimson. He locked eyes with me, a smile creeping onto his face before he opened it, and his jaw went slack. On the inside was us, a remarkable drawing of us anyway, him holding me in his arms. I’d done the picture myself, and it had nearly brought me to tears as I’d seen it in its entirety for the first time. The words ‘To always be able to find your way back home’ were carved in the metal in scrawling cursive. 

He let his fingertips gently skim the etching in the metal, and tears formed in the corners of his eyes for a moment, though never spilling out as he just stared. And stared. And stared. My heart began to thump wildly in my chest by the time his eyes met mine again; warmth and love and just happiness oozing from them. “I love you.” His voice cracked, and he fisted the compass, chain dangling, before he surged forward and wrapped me in his arms. 

“It’s perfect. I don’t care about whatever else you’ve got in that magic box of yours. This?” He pulled back, gesturing to the compass. “This is perfect. I love how cheesy-“

“Hey!” I protested and he put his finger on my lips, shushing me. 

“It is, but it’s so fucking perfect Y/N. But that’s us. I wouldn’t want anything different.” He whispered, before taking it and pulling it over his head, letting it fall onto his chest, a smile pulling at my lips. “Thank you.” He whispered. 

“Your welcome Love,” I teased a small bit, using his new nickname. While his cheeks tinted (leaving me smirking), his eyes darkened, narrowing in on me. 

“Say that again, and you won’t get to finish giving me your gifts, love.” I bit my lip, trying to fight back the smirk growing on my face. Something he easily clocked, eyes jumping from the box to me. “What else is in there Y/N? Anything good?”

“A few little things.” I said, playing coy, fluttering my eyelashes at him innocently. Something I knew would drive him nuts. “Nothing too special.”

He licked his lips, eyes trained on my mouth, before snapping back up to my own. “Oh?” He asked.

“Just a few aphrodisiac chocolates and some churam, you know, to help us ease into my last gift. After all,” I paused, sending him a quick wink, “I’m feeling very appreciative for your gift, Ridoc.”

“And this last gift you keep mentioning?” He asked, leaning in. I leaned back, out of his reach though, moving off the bed completely as I gathered my courage. The locket was the hard part. This? Giving in to my carnal desires for Ridoc? This was easy compared to baring my soul to him. 

I positioned myself in front of him and his hands reached for me, but I swatted them away. “Patience.” He looked ready to argue, but I continued, making him pause. “Give me a minute to undress first, jeez. Gotta let me show you your present after all.” 

I didn’t wait for him to respond before I unzipped my flight jacket. Revealing the baby blue lacy bra underneath, with the see-through white top over it, gently sitting on my skin in that delicate way that I knew would drive him mad. He licked his lips hungrily, eyes following my hands as I unzipped my pants before slowly pulling them down my legs, bending over in front of him. Suddenly his eyes were on my breasts, and I tilted my head at him questioningly, teasingly. My lacy panties were the same baby blue color, and nearly as see through as my top was. Once I’d forgone all unnecessary clothes, I stepped forward again, reveling in the quickness in which his hands found my ass and pulled me forward into him. 

“Gods, love,” This time was a choked groan as he roughly palmed my ass. I could get used to this nickname, I really could. Every time he said it my core just ached in the most delicious way. “This color, this fabric-“ He kissed across my stomach, the fabric catching between his mouth and my skin, sending a jolt of pleasure through me that I hadn’t expected. “Fuck…it looks so good on you Princess.” 

“You like it?” I asked and he smiled widely at me, taking my hand and putting it on his crotch, where his cock jolted with my touch, already more than halfway hard. 

“I love it.” He said, “All of it. All of you. Good luck leaving this room for the weekend, because you aren’t going anywhere now.”

I whined. Fucking whined, at his words. Then, without thinking, dropped to my knees between his legs. His mouth fell slack for a split second before his mouth curved into a cocky grin. 

“Oh, is that what you want? Me to fuck you senseless this entire weekend? Smoke and play with that pretty pussy you’ve wrapped up so fucking nicely for me? Feed each other chocolates until you’re begging for me to let you cum, over and over and over again?” He gently pushed back my hair out of my face, his thumbs lingering and stroking over my cheeks. “And you wanna kick it all off by shoving my fat cock down your pretty little throat?”

“Yes please.” I whined, rubbing my thighs together for friction, failingly trying to release the tension built there. 

“Hands on my thighs please love.” My hands moved quickly, grounding myself in him as he leaned back, grabbing the box, and pulling out the joints and the bag of chocolate before tossing the box on the floor again. His eyes met mine, the dominating side of him shimmering just below the surface of his irises. The side of him I only got to see when it was just the two of us, alone and locked in our room together. 

“Colors, you know them right?” He asked and I nodded, but his eyes narrowed. “Words sweet girl. I know you can use them.”

“Green, Orange, Red.” He nodded, but raised his eyebrow, urging me to continue. “Green for good, orange for checking in, and red for stop.”

“Good girl. Now, stick out your tongue. Don’t close your mouth until I tell you to.” He said and I obliged as he pulled a chocolate out of the bag, biting off half and eating it before setting it on my tongue. The chocolate let out a burst of flavor on my tongue, even more so than the s’mores had earlier. 

He watched as the chocolate melted, dripping down the sides of my tongue slowly before dripping onto the tops of my breasts. He licked his lips then met my eyes again. “Eat it.” He commanded before leaning down and pulling me close, licking off the chocolate on my boobs as I ate what was left, moans tumbling out of my throat. His arms wrapped around my back, caging me in before letting me go again just as quickly, grateful for my hands still on his thighs steadying me. 

He tossed the candy onto the bed and put one of the joints on the side table before pulling a lighter out of his pocket, and sparking it up. Three puffs in and he motioned me forwards, before tapping his finger on my mouth. Shotgunning. We didn’t smoke often, normally just special occasions, but when I showed him this on Christmas Eve he’d gone insane for it. 

I pressed my mouth to his, gladly accepting the earthy smoke, letting it fill my lungs as he kissed me. I pulled back when I couldn’t hold it any longer, letting out the now stale remnants of the hit he’d taken. My body went fuzzy, a haze lightly slipping over me as that first wave of calm hit. He pressed the joint to my lips and I sucked in; this hit was more substantial, more raw, and suddenly my mouth was back on Ridoc’s as he gladly accepted my smokey offering. But when he pulled back I wanted more, the aching in my thighs coming back to the forefront of my mind as my attention was brought back to his cock, which looked like it was straining against the fabric of his pants. 

“One more hit pretty girl, and a full chocolate, then you can have it, promise.” He teased, and my eyes snapped back up to his to see the playful look he was giving me, though his eyes were lidded now, and his smirk was lazy. Churam always hit him faster than me. He took his hit before passing the joint back to me, and leaning back to retrieve the chocolates again. 

I took my hit, savoring it as he got two chocolates and plopped one in his mouth before trading me the other one for the joint. I ate mine as I watched him use his signet to turn the red hot end of the joint go black in an instant, and then swallowed, humming when done. He grinned as I lolled my tongue out, letting him see I’d eaten it. Then his hands moved in a flash, and the next second his pants were at his ankles, his hard shaft resting on his stomach, unable to stand on its own with the weight of him. 

“Hands on my thighs Y/N, mouth only this time. Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” He assured, his hands making my hair into a makeshift ponytail, before consolidating it all to his left hand. He leaned back, resting on his right hand before nodding at me. “Go on now, ya’ wanted to suck it so fucking bad? Suck it then Princess.” 

I dipped my head, kitten licking the tip, licking a few stripes up the side of him, letting all the drool I’d been swallowing back lube him up. And then I let lose, taking all of him to the back of my throat and gagging around him, and I moaned at the guttural groan he’d released. Then I was bobbing my head up and down, eating up every moan, groan and gasp he gave me, my fingertips eating into his thighs as I lost myself on his cock. 

He tasted so good; salty, musky and that little bit that was just Ridoc, in the most delicious way. The way praise just dripped off his tongue with every bob of my head. The way his dick would jump every time I’d take him as deep as I could, itching to just get a little bit deeper. Gods, I would crawl to just lick this mans dick, which is more than I can say for any other before him. Much more. I’m lost in the way he tastes, sounds, and feels beneath me, practically writhing in pleasure as he struggles to stay still. I know he’s holding back, desperately trying to let me lead even though he wants to thrust up into me.  

When I looked up I realized he had taken his shirt off, abs glistening in the low light and frost built up on the ends of the curls threatening to block his gorgeous eyes. Good, I’m not the only one losing myself here. His breath was coming out in pants, clouding in front of him before it’d dissipate just as fast. Then, his eyes met mine, and his control slipped as the grip on my hair tightened and he slammed me down, making me take his dick into my mouth in full tears springing to the corners of my eyes as I gagged. 

Then he was thrusting up into me, the babble dripping off his tongue letting me know he was close. 

“Fuck babe, how is that mouth of yours so fucking good?” Thrust. “Just as good as your pussy, I fucking swear.” Thrust. “Want me to cum down that pretty throat huh?” Thrust. “Fuck, love, you suck me so good.” Thrust. “So good’f’me, letting me fuck you how I please.” Thrust. “Fuck…babe…m’close.” Thrust. “Gods, don’t look at me like that, givin’ me doe eyes like I don’t have my cock down your throat, and giving me those pretty little tears.” Thrust. “Shit- I’m- FUCK!“ 

He hissed, thrust twice more and stilled as he painted the back of my throat, holding me to the base of him by my hair until he finished cumming and felt me finish swallowing around him, and then pulling me back off his dick hastily. He looked absolutely debauched, chest heaving, hair sticking to his skin and his fingertips were freezing where they’d started lazily stroking my cheeks again. It felt good on my too-hot skin, the aphrodisiac having hit me in full force now, leaving me aching and needing his touch. He licked his lips as he looked down at me, pleasure awash over his features as he scanned me with too-black eyes. He was already completely hard again. 

“Fuck, Y/N, get on this bed now,” It was a growled order, not a request, “I need my mouth on you.” He wasn’t waiting though, already pulling me to my feet before him, and I hastily crawled over him and onto the bed, barely laying on my back before his mouth attached to mine. He easily gained dominance, tongue slipping into my mouth as his hands wandered my body, cooling everywhere they touched and sending my pleasure skyrocketing. Perks of being an ice user I guess, you’ve got built in ice fingers when you lose a large amount of control. I definitely wasn’t complaining as his fingers began rubbing over my clothed clit, pulling a gasp from me as his mouth pulled from mine and he looked down to his hand. 

“Fuck babe, you’re fucking soaked.” He was right of course, but I was still about to complain, until he kissed down my neck and groaned when he reached my collarbone. “Gods, how are you this wet already?”

“Ridoc please…” I whined through the pleasure he was giving me, which felt so good yet not enough. 

“Use your words Princess,” He chided, mouth nipping at my neck. 

“Please, I need your-“ I let out a moan when he added pressure, “F-fingers, mouth, anything, just please, it hurts.” I whined again and he leaned back onto his knees, stopping all movement, making me pout.

“You asked so nicely, so good’f’me, always huh?” He mused before settling his head between my thighs and pulling my panties to the side. “My pretty girl asks for what she wants, so well, always such a good girl.” He mused before licking up what slick had collected from his words. He moaned and licked again, the vibrations making the pleasure heighten and leaving me gasping, hands threading into his soft locks as he kitten licked my cunt. “Fingers or tongue beautiful?” 

“Both," I gasped and he chuckled darkly, making me clench around nothing. 

“That’s my girl. Always so greedy f’me.” He sucked on my clit suddenly and harshly, making me cry out. “Ask and you shall receive Y/N.” 

And receive I did. It was all I could do as he descended upon me. Mouth alternating between harshly sucking on my clit and then barely licking, while two of his ice cold fingers pumped into me, starting a punishing pace as he curled and prodded with his fingers, a harsh contrast to the overwhelming warmth of my dripping pussy. It felt so euphoric though, the only thing keeping me here and not on cloud nine were his eyes, dutifully holding my own in their gaze, and watching me absolutely unravel before him. 

Between the aphrodisiac setting every nerve alright within me, the churam heightening my pleasure, and then just everything that was Ridoc, absolutely devouring me; the knot of pleasure in my core wound tighter with every second. Everything building, building, building, until I was right on that precipice, waiting for the fall, but never quite tumbling over. 

Ridoc knew it too. In fact, the bastard was orchestrating it. Bringing me right there and then cleverly shifting focus, right when he knew I was nearly there, prolonging my pleasure and denying me it in the same breath. He was too skilled, and much too acquainted with my body at this point, not to know exactly what he was doing. 

“Ridoc.” I warned, or moaned, not really sure. He hummed, acknowledging my plight but continuing to do as he pleased, bringing me right to the edge before denying me again. “Ridoc, please! Please let me cum, I can’t take anymore!”

“Almost love, you can take a few more.” He said, voice soothing but words near torture. There was no way, I was shaking now, and ready to continue begging for release some more. His eyes softened as they quickly scanned mine. “If you really need it, use your colors.” He reminded me. “Until then though, just a few more.” I nodded but whined anyway when he denied my next three orgasms. 

He wrapped an arm around the back of my thigh and pressed down on my stomach, then curled his fingers and sucked harshly on my clit, and then I was cumming. Without warning, so sudden, and making the heat in my body skyrocket until all I could feel was white-hot pleasure as I cried out Ridoc’s name. The only word I could form was his, all I knew was him. 

I’d barely come down when he sat up, looking over my body as he sucked his fingers clean. Then he grabbed my hips, and used one of his hands to scoop up my release and pump it over his length, before pulling my underwear to the side again and aligning it with my entrance. He looked as feral as I felt; despite both of us having found release once already, all I could think was more, more, more. 

His cheeks were pink, and eyes lidded as he watched himself push inside me before they snapped up to mine when I let out a breathy sigh as the first few inches of him sunk inside me. Loving that first delicious stretch as he slowly, lazily, thrust in and out, sinking in a bit deeper each time, until he’d stilled and completely bottomed out within me. 

Full. Complete. Whole. Thats all I could feel beyond pleasure. 

Ridoc must’ve too because he rested one hand on my cheek as the other hand wrapped around my back, cradling me. “Fuck Princess, this never gets old.” He whispered against my lips as he began lazily thrusting again, pace slow and savoring. “You’re so tight, and soft, and warm. Fuck, I love you.” He groaned before picking up the pace, slow and lazy thrusts turning hard and punishing. Causing me to cry out and wrap my arms and legs around his back, bringing us closer. Bringing him deeper. 

I wanted to say it back, I really did, but I couldn’t with his relentless pace, never giving me a second to breath. With the way he pushed deeper, reaching places only he had ever delved. Taking parts of me only he had ever possessed. Pleasure built until I was gasping, and maybe begging?

I didn’t know what was leaving my mouth exactly, but Ridoc was sweetly smoothing my hair and cooing out something soothing as he continued to fuck me into my mattress without reprieve. Words no longer registered in my brain, just him and this bottomless hunger for pleasure that never seemed to be satisfied. 

Not until he’d had enough nonsense and he folded me into the meanest mating press nearly folded in on myself, still thrusting harshly, barely missing a beat, even though I could tell by his shaking hips that he was close. Five thrusts and then I was sent flying over that edge again screaming something I couldn’t understand, absolutely ripped apart by pleasure, tears streaming down my face the moment I came. A few more thrusts and he stilled inside me, warmth filling me as the pleasure dulled into oversensitivity. He released me, but stayed inside as he leaned down and kissed me, before wiping my tears away. 

“How are you feeling beautiful?” His voice was soft, like it always was when I began crying from the overwhelm that came with that intense level of pleasure. 

“Green.” I gasped out. “But….need….a….break.”

“Me too. Smoke, have some refreshments, then go again?” He asked, before quickly pecking my lips before I could answer. 

I nodded. “Yeah. I love you.”

He grinned like the Cheshire Cat, ear to ear and entirely too smug. “I know, you screamed it when you came around my cock. Good thing I love you too, cause that would’ve been embarrassing otherwise.” He gave me another kiss to pacify me. “Now lets refuel, because I’m not nearly done with you yet."

~ Want to be added to the tag list? Just comment or message me! :)

@xadenswhore @littlemissmelodie @jobroho @worldsanna @uneducatedraccoon @nicksolemnlyswears @binksbrewcrew

[poisonf0rest]

so beg for forgiveness

♱⋅── a/n: 2.4k of filth and Sylus being absolutely whipped for you, doing anything you ask just to earn your forgiveness.

He’s insufferable.

The way he mimics you—voice pitched high in a cruel, sing-song lilt—makes your blood boil.

"Sylus, Sylus," he taunts, leaning down to moan into the shell of your ear, "Please, Sylus, slow down. Too big, too much. Sylus."

You shove him hard, your frustration met only with his low, infuriating chuckle as you storm away.

But later, when Sylus coaxes you back into bed as if nothing happened, as if his little stunt is already forgotten—you remind yourself that you haven’t forgotten.

And you certainly won’t let him go unpunished.

Sylus always fucks you like he loves you. Like he’s obsessed with you. Every hulking inch of his six-foot-something body pressed down onto yours in devotion only the vulnerability of skin on skin could provide, each slow, languid thrust jostling your entire body, inching the two of you up the mattress until he drags you back down, leaving a kiss on your ankle as he does so. 

And god, he feels good. Always does. Hot and heavy, babbling praises and sweet promises into your neck as your nails dig bloody lines into every rigid plane of muscle across Sylus’s back. 

One of his hands cups the eternity of your lower back as he pulls your hips flush against his, the other gently tugging your chin up to his gaze, brows furrowed as his eyes dart between yours, clouded in confusion and concern.

Because despite his efforts, you haven't made a single sound for the past twenty minutes.

Good, he deserved to feel guilty. 

You huff, jerking your chin out from his palm as you swat his arm away. 

“You… Are you alright?” Sylus stops moving completely, cock throbbing against your walls, and the sudden lack of stimulation has you writhing. 

Before he can pull out entirely, you grab his shoulder leverage, shooting him one last glare before you begin fucking yourself up against him. 

The man is merely stunned into silence, unsure whether to stop or continue as you continue grinding your hips up, chasing your own pleasure as you use him as little more than a toy—refusing to let even a whimper past your teeth even as your thighs begin to shake.

Still chasing your own orgasm, you’re too busy to see the concern melt off Sylus’s face, quickly replaced with a wicked grin as he realizes what you’re playing at. 

Oh, so you’re still mad? Did he hit a nerve earlier? 

Sylus sighs, feigning disappointment as he watches you struggle to keep quiet, poor hands clawing and grappling against him as you struggle to take him on your own. Effort straining your muscles, his cock a tight fit without his help. What a fussy little kitten he has. 

Sitting back on his heels, you hiss in frustration as the new angle forces his cock to slip right out, smacking against his abs with a lewd sound as your combined slick drips down his heaving stomach. 

“Are you still upset about what I said earlier?” 

You huff, turning your head to the side as you prop yourself up on your elbows, about to climb onto Sylus’s lap to finish yourself off something stops you halfway. A hand pushes against your chest, forcing you back down onto the mattress with an angry groan, already missing the feeling of him filling you.

Struggling is pointless, Sylus’s entire weight trained on keeping you pinned beneath him, palm large enough to encircle your neck as it travels up, squeezing ever so lightly. 

“Not even going to respond?” You bare your teeth in a mock snarl and Sylus laughs, that annoyingly arrogant grin back on his face. ”Where did all your manners go? This kitten sure knows how to hold a grudge.”

You know he’s baiting you, trying to get a rise out of you, goading you into talking. And it nearly damn works, having to bite your tongue as you glare up at him with all the ferocity you can muster when he begins kissing around your knee and inner thigh, depriving you of his cock as he leans down onto his stomach. 

“Mhm, I’m sorry. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?” Sylus asks, sweeter than honey, words muffled into your inner thigh, each one coming out in between shaky breaths as he inhales deeply against the juncture of your thigh. “Please, let me hear you again.” Another kiss, ” Please let me hear your voice.”

He takes a moment to enjoy the view of you, spread open and desperate even as you stubbornly deny him his favorite thing in the world—your moans. He smiles, squeezing your hips and dragging you closer until your thighs are draped over his, knees bent. You shiver as his breath ghosts over your core, his thumbs pulling apart your lips.

The combined mess from earlier is still splattered across your skin, and Sylus wastes no time before dragging his tongue across it. He can’t help it, you taste so good. Sound even better, if only you’d stop this ridiculous game. 

Nipping and kissing into your thighs, Sylus never breaks eye contact as he works his way down to your poor fluttering pussy, blowing cool air just to watch you shiver. And when he suddenly latches his lips onto your clit, flicking his tongue up, you nearly forget about revenge. A moan rips from your throat, and only by slapping a palm over your mouth do you manage to muffle it, shaking into Sylus’s mouth as he growls between board strokes of his tongue. 

“Don’t. Do not hide them from me.”

Sylus’s hand immediately comes up, forcing your palm off your mouth. Still eating you out, his hand encircles both your wrists for good measure, pinning them to the mattress.

Sylus knows how to play your body too well, hot tongue circling your clit in slow, devoted motions until breaking away, fucking into your cunt as he watches in smug victory as you grind against the perfect arch of his nose in ways you know will bring you over the edge far too quickly. His usual patience is gone, only desperation remains. Desperation to prove himself, desperation to break you.

You swear you nearly taste blood with how hard you’re biting your lip. 

He's making out with your pussy like a man starved, the way he refuses to part even long enough to breathe, the way his hands are still holding your wrists tight enough to bruise, the way he's still fucking begging you to let him hear your voice. You’re coming before you can help it, forcing your head to the side as you bite into the pillow, muffling your cries as you barely stop yourself from saying his name. 

Sylus doesn't miss it. He lets out a noise that's half laugh, half moan, before sitting back on his heels, pulling his tongue out of your pussy and replacing it with two thick fingers.

"That hardly counts, I could barely hear you." You try to ignore the way he crawls back over you, lips swollen glistening with your release and drool, his entire hulking body trembling at the mere sight of you coming undone. "Was my apology not enough? I'll do more. I'd do anything to earn your forgiveness."

Sylus kisses your bruised thighs again, above your womb, your stomach, chest. It's a trail of fire up your body, worshiping every inch he can reach as the pads of his fingers curling to push against that spongy spot inside of you. It's so hard not to make a sound, especially when Sylus has the gall to press his forehead against your temple, whispering pleas in your ear as he continues fucking you with his fingers.

"I just need to hear your voice again, pretty thing, just a little. I want to hear how good I make you feel. Please."

"Sy--" Fuck. You barely stopped yourself, shaking your head violently as you claw at Sylus's biceps, pulling his arm in closer, faster.

Sylus all but whines at the denial of his name.

He lowers himself entirely, each ragged breath hot against your ear just as his neglected cock, twitching and leaking against your stomach. “Please, let me make it up to you. I’d give you anything, everything you could ever want.” His fingers curl, hitting your g-spot with cruel accuracy even as he continues begging so, so sweetly. “I’ll be—“ a lick across your ear, “such—" sucking the sensitive shell, “—a good boy."

Your moan is broken, strangled, and barely audible, breaking through your clenched jaw, but the way your whole body convulses let him know you're close. He kisses you hard, swallowing every sound, his hand never ceasing between your legs.

"You're going to forgive me now, won't you, sweetie?" He coos, and when you nod desperately, Sylus pulls back to watch your face. "Say my name, say it, please. Please, talk to me. You know I can’t even cum anymore without hearing your voice. Hearing you ask for me, my cum."

The confession is filthy, and does horrible, terrible things to you.

“You—” you growl, frustration thick in your voice, hating how easily you gave in. “You’re disgusting. Mean.”

Sylus’s eyes nearly roll back at that—at the sound of your voice after so long. You sound divine, even when you're furious. He groans, rutting his hips against you, the underside of his cock dragging along your stomach as you hiss in faux disgust.

“Oh? So you are talking to me again?” he moans, reveling in the feel of your heat wrapped around his fingers, your slick on his lips, the way your glare flickers between hatred and something far more dangerous.

"Again,” he pants, “call me that again."

"Disgusting."

Sylus bites his lip, moaning low into your ear as he grinds against you, his touch relentless.

"Mean," you sneer, trying to shove him away, but you are powerless against his hulking body, every inch pressing close enough to have you gasping for breath.

"Awful."

"You’re,” Your breath catches as his fingers quicken, his thumb circling your clit with devastating precision. You’re going to come again. “Fucking evil.”

"Yeah,” Sylus repeats, chuckling, eyes half-lidded and dazed as he watches you convulse around his fingers, “I’m the big, bad, evil villain.”

So mean isn’t he? Cooing sweetly as you come undone, violently squirting as your cum drips down his wrist and forearm. If you want evil, then he can do that too. He can earn your forgiveness and have you beg for it too.

It's all too much. The man is a demon, a monster, an angel, and his fingers are working you up to the highest heavens, the way he looks down at you in reverence as his hair falls in a messy curtain, a look of utter adoration on his face. And the way his cock, red and throbbing, presses against the juncture of your hip and thigh, dripping precum down the length as he neglects it all for you.

But you want him. All of him.

"Sylus."

He moans, loud and deep, like the sound of his name on your lips is enough to undo him. You can’t help it—you’re crying now, hot tears burning at the corners of your eyes as you gasp for air.

"Sylus, Sylus. Sylus." Your voice cracks, raw with need. "M’sorry. Please, I want—ah fuck—I need you, fuck. Want all of you. Sylus."

He’s on you before you can finish, mouth crashing into yours, kissing you with a feverish intensity that would bruise any other's lips. He kisses you like he’s starving, swallowing every syllable, every whimper, like he’s terrified you’ll take it all back.

And then—you feel it. The sudden, hot spray of his cum between your bodies, painting your stomach and chest as he whines into the kiss. Untouched, undone just from your voice, from the way you’re finally his again.

"Thank you, thank you," Sylus groans against your lips, voice wrecked, relief pouring out of him like he’s been waiting an eternity just to hear you say those words.

He keeps his fingers moving, edging you dangerously close to another orgasm, until you're practically squirming in his grip. Even then, he doesn't stop, he doesn't remove his fingers. He pulls back just far enough to watch your face, eyes wide and searching.

"Again, kitten, again. Please, keep saying my name."

"Sylus."

Your body is trembling, and his hand doesn't stop until you're squirming away, the stimulation too much. Only then does Sylus finally pull his fingers out, licking them clean, the other hand cupping the back of your head as he kisses you again.

"Forgive me?"

You nod, and Sylus grins, fanged and fucked-out.

"Say it out loud for me."

You scoff, "Yes. I forgive you."

"Perfect. Then I might have to ask for your forgiveness again."

And just as he finishes his confession, your knees are pressed up to your ears, folding you in half as Sylus slides back into your dripping cunt. Without any resistance the entirety of his length thrusts deep inside of you, your lower stomach bulging ever so slightly from his girth, your mind blanking as you’re spread wide against the muscular jut of Sylus’s hips. His hands are everywhere, gripping your hair, squeezing your neck, grabbing at your waist and hips, pulling you up into every thrust. 

"Forgive me, you're so perfect. So beautiful." He kisses along your neck, whispering his praises and compliments, forcing his thumb into your mouth as he pries your lips open to hear you better. "Never keep these sounds from me again, understand?"

You moan a yes around his thumb, and Sylus growls.

"That's a good girl."

He doesn’t relent. Sylus effortlessly begins guiding you into his thrust with one hand, the other remaining pressed against your abdomen, stroking at the outline of his dick pressing through with every rock forward. Large hands splay your thighs wider, closer, impossibly stretching you out until all you can feel is him. 

“Forgive me.” Your breasts jolt with each thrust and before he can stop himself Sylus leans down and bites, nipping and licking into the sensitive peak as you sob from the pain and pleasure. It makes you dizzy, the gentle licks and kisses over your skin in mock apology until he bites down again. And again. 

There’s no remorse in Sylus’s voice anymore, only pussydrunk and obsessed. “Please, forgive me.” Utterly obsessed. Devoted, perhaps.

Just thinking about Sylus giving you attitude when he mimics your words during the event, but he really hates when you flip it back on him... especially when it means you stop begging/talking to him next time you have sex as revenge.

Best believe he's pounding you deep into the mattress as soon as he realized what you're doing, nonstop filth coming out of his mouth as he begs you to forgive him and let him hear you once more as you fight nearly to tears to keep your sounds muffled just to torture him a little longer.

[that-hazbin]

Your angel AU now has me by the THROAT.

I’m assuming that Alastor goes to Hell basically immediately after Emily tells him that Lucifer Fell and hopes that Lucifer didn’t just forget about him (even if everyone else had).

That reunion will be messy, and I think that in a way Lucifer didn’t forget about Alastor—I am now convinced that the apple on Lucifer’s hat is the one he meant to give Alastor and no one can convince me otherwise—but thoughts of him kind of fell to the wayside as other things took priority. I imagine Lucifer will be a mix of happiness to see Alastor, and horrified guilt because he was left in that garden for 10,000 years alone and it’s his fault. You said this whole idea was based on Spinel, so I’d think Alastor is a mix of terrible sadness and frothing fury, oscillating between the two in turns.

You have set up a situation that will have severe emotional repercussions that are delicious to contemplate; thank you for sharing your ideas and writing with us, and I respectfully request more.

I shortened a lot of this AU because I wanted people to make their own thoughts on it, but I've got a lot of personal thoughts for it that makes it fun. One of them is that in this AU, Alastor doesn't have wings. He was made for Lucifer as basically his doll, and so he wasn't allowed flight. If he needed to go anywhere, he needed Lucifer to fly him around. So leaving Heaven to get to Hell would, in fact, be really difficult. He can't just fly down the way Adam and his exorcists can.

Granted, since Lucifer fell, maybe Alastor thinks "alright I'll do that too" and just bodily throws himself over the edge. That would be a NASTY reunion for Lucifer. Sees some meteor falling from Heaven, flies up to stop it, only to realize "Hey wait is that a person— IS THAT ALASTOR?!"

Meanwhile Emily, who witnessed this poor WINGLESS guy JUMP FOR HELL, is frantically trying to call up Charlie and give her like. A warning. Perhaps an explanation.

Lucifer and Alastor would have the most messed up reunion in this case. Alastor is still operating on the idea that his whole existence is to please Lucifer in some way, specifically to make him happy, to entertain him. In Lucifer's mind, this means that Alastor literally condemned himself to the most painful action in existence because of HIM. He never managed to give Alastor the fruit of knowledge like he planned, and it resulted in this.

Unbeknownst to Lucifer, Alastor isn't completely bereft of free will. Otherwise, he wouldn't be... feeling the emotions that he's feeling. He's hurt, saddened, and filled with so much anger. And Alastor is not going to direct that anger at Lucifer, of course not, it's not his fault that Alastor waited for ten-thousand years for no reason. (Except, it kind of is, but NO IT ISN'T.)

Things will hit a boiling point, though, when Lucifer suggests getting Alastor back into Heaven. Because obviously Alastor doesn't deserve to be in Hell, it sucks here, and Alastor deserves better— except that's not what Alastor hears. What Alastor hears is that despite waiting several millennia for this moment, Lucifer doesn't actually want him around and is planning on getting rid of him. Wiping his hands of him. Why not, right? Every other angel in Heaven has forgotten about his very existence, and here's Lucifer, the one he was made for, trying to do the same!

Alastor would just. Explode. He's confused and so, so furious. What exactly did he do wrong this time? Why isn't his friend happy to see him, why doesn't he want Alastor to stay? Is he seriously going to abandon Alastor AGAIN?! TEN THOUSAND YEARS! He can't do it again, he can't.

It would take a while before Alastor calms down.

[sturniolohohoho]

Behind Closed Doors

sweet!matt x reader blurb??

summary: you get into a fight with matt about the fact that he's kept your relationship under wraps for a year

c/w: angst, fluff, cuddling, swearing, kissing, yelling and fighting

dividers by @anitalenia here

You stir a pot of pasta mindlessly in your kitchen, awaiting Matt’s return. Looking up at the oven clock, it reads 12:32 AM. He was late coming home. Again. Scrolling through instagram, you pause at a video captioned “Matt Sturniolo is my man 😍😍. new fanfic on tumblr!!!”  

You knew it was just some random fan, but every bone in your body wanted to comment. You wish you could tell the world that he was yours, and only yours. That he was the thing you most cherished and loved in your world. But you knew that it couldn’t happen. Despite the several long arguments you had with Matt, he didn’t want to make it public.

You sigh, shutting off your phone just as you hear the sound of keys at the door. The door cracks open and in walks Matt. You walk over to him, a big smile on your face, taking his jacket and bag away. He looks tired, but the hearty pasta and a kiss will probably rejuvenate him.

“Hey baby! I made pasta for you for dinner, come on, sit down.” He gives you a tight lipped smile, walks over to the kitchen table sitting down with a sigh. You eye him nervously as you set the plates.

“You good Matt? You came home pretty late…” His eyes snap up, immediately becoming defensive. “Relax okay? I was just out, it was a really long day today.” You’re taken a little aback by his reaction, but you ignore it, pushing the feeling down.

“Well good thing you’re home now,” you say, sitting down next to him to eat. He nods quietly. “I just saw the most ridiculous post on insta, someone promoting some fanfic of you. Sometimes I wish I could just comment “He’s mine!” y’know?”

“Well you can’t.” He replies sharply. “I don’t want to have this conversation again. I’m exhausted and my answer isn't going to change. We’re not dating publicly, you’re not filming content with us.” He gets up to leave, pasta only half done. “I’m going to sleep.” You listen to him walk away, his footsteps receding up the stairs. You feel tears pooling up in your eyes and dripping into your bowl, onto the pasta you made for him.

1 year. You had been together for exactly 1 year. Today was your anniversary, and he had forgotten about it. Like a rubber band, all your self control snapped, you stood up, taking both of your bowls and slamming them onto the kitchen counter. You nearly run up the stairs into Matt’s room swinging the door open. He’s in his bed, wide awake, scrolling on his phone. He looks up at you startled but mostly annoyed.

“Wha–” You interrupt him. “NO. NO, MATT. This is not okay. You can’t keep hiding me from the public, keeping me at home like I’m just your bitch that cooks and loves when you want me to.” He gets up, temper flaring.

“What the FUCK are you talking about? This isn’t about that. I’m not hiding you, I’m protecting you. I’m protecting us from the world.” 

“FUCK THAT, CHRIS. You haven’t taken me out in weeks out of fear of being recognized. You’ve been coming home late every night, taking me for fucking granted. You know today was our 1 year anniversary, right?” You see a glimmer of regret in his eyes. 

“One entire fucking year and you still don’t care about me enough to introduce me to your online life. Have you ever thought of MY YouTube career? My channel could be BLOWING UP if you even just let me show up in one of your videos, even just a TikTok. This isn’t about protecting “us”, you’re being selfish” Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to get the words out, each one heavier than the last. 

“I’ve been busting my ass for this. For us. And you’ve been too busy hiding me away, like I’m some dirty little secret. You know what? I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep sacrificing everything for a relationship that you aren’t even willing to put your full heart into. I deserve someone who sees me, who wants to share their life with me. If you can’t do that, then maybe it’s time I start thinking about me for once. Maybe it’s time I leave.”

He just sits there, frozen, eyes glazed over. You can’t tell at all what he’s thinking. You back out of his room, wiping the tears off your face. “Think about it, Matt,” you whisper, before you close the door and walk over to your room to collapse on the bed.

Hours pass by of you sleeping, waking up, crying, then going back to sleep. Your pillow is tear stained and your face is salty. Finally, you hear a knock on the door. 

“Can I come in?” You don’t respond just laying there motionless. Matt cracks the door open, walking into your room slowly, and closing the door behind him. He looks like he’s been crying too, eyes and cheeks red. He sits on the bed next to you, reaching his hand out to smooth your hair. He stays there for a couple minutes, just playing with your hair, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Baby, I thought about what you said,” he says in a quiet voice. You raise your eyes to meet him, a glimmer of hope in your eyes.

“You… you are the most important person in my life, sweetheart.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “And I can’t believe I let my own selfishness about the complexity of dating publicly hurt us. I can’t lose you. I love you so much. I-” he chokes up. “–can’t lose you” Tears pool in your eyes as you lunge forwards to wrap your arms around Matt. “I’ll make the post tomorrow morning. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, I’ll do anything. Please”

You bury your face against his chest, listening to his heart beating quickly. You let out a deep sigh, melting into his arms. “I forgive you, Matt. I just- I can’t live without you.”

He pulls you closer, his arms tight around you as if he's afraid to let go. His lips press softly into your hair, and you breathe in his scent, letting it calm your racing heart. “I love you more than you’ll ever know,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

You pull back just enough to look him in the eyes, wiping away a few lingering tears. "I love you too," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. The tension of the past few hours seems to melt away.

Matt smiles softly, brushing his thumb gently against your cheek. “How about we make the rest of this year the best one yet? I’ll be the guy who shows you off to the world. I’ll let you be a part of all of it—because you deserve that and more.”

Your heart swells, a mix of relief and joy flooding you. "Promise?"

“I promise," he says, his words sincere. “I’ve got you, always.”

a/n: all done!!! This is my first angst fic and I like it i thinkk. I probably wont make it a series and i dont have much to say so thanks for reading!

suggestions and criticism greatly appreciated, requests VERY OPEN <33 love youu