#I feel like I could talk about this au for days I have so many ideas
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pedrosgrogu · 14 hours ago
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Born Too Late - Chapter 5
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pairing/au: neighbor!joel x reader // no outbreak
Warnings: MDNI!!! SMUT (2 chapters in a row :0.. So much for slow burn), age gap, no use of y/n, i think thats it fr, dirty talk, unprotected p in v (be smart yall, wrap it up). thats it i think, lemme know if i missed something :) 
Summary: Sarah's conference is this week and seeing Joel is not on your list of things you want to do. Then he invites you over to talk. You need to set the boundary now, what could go wrong? (1.6k+)
a/n: i tried to write a lil more than usual bc i feel bad about inconsistent posting. (shoutout no personal life bc work/school) hopefully with winter break i can post a couple times a week. also trying to figure out how to make a taglist so if you want to be notified of new chapters, lmk!! If you have any suggestions, give em to a girl. i love to see/hear feedback :) <3
Yet again, you’re avoiding Joel like the plague. You have an unknown amount of missed calls from him. You also have conferences today. This means you have to see him, and you feel like you could throw up. He’s your last one at 5:30 p.m. The day goes by slowly, and you have lunch duty so you don’t have time to finish planning your conference notes. After lunch is the worst part of the day. Kids are tired and barely give a shit, but you have a couple good ones that you try to focus on. Sarah being one of them. The 2:30 bell rings and by 2:40 your class is empty. Conferences start at 3:30 so you finish your notes and try to eat your lunch but that sinking feeling is still there. 
By 5:15, you’ve talked to so many parents that they’re all starting to blur. You’re exhausted and would rather be quite literally anywhere else by now. You gather Sarah's notes and sit them on the table, one stack in front of you and a copy of your stack in front of where Joel will sit. Sarah really enjoys a select few books from your classroom library so you sit them on her desk for her in case she's with Joel. 
Before you see him, you smell him. The air in your classroom fills with hints of cedarwood and lavender. You look up and Sarah is already at her desk looking at the books. You stand to greet Joel. “Good Evening Mr. Miller” you reach to shake his hand but he doesn't move, he is staring right through you. “Sweet girl, you don't have to call me that.” He says, still staring. You smile and invite him to sit. “So” you start “Sarah is doing phenomenal, she loves to read and write, and is always very engaged. I pulled a few samples of her writings from the last couple weeks so you could read them. They’re the first sheets inside your fold-” “Babygirl” he says gruffly “I know my daughter, and she has excelled and exceeded every year. I'm here for you. Why have you been avoiding me?” You look at him, wide eyed. Half wanting to laugh and half wanting to cry. Your door is open and anyone could walk by and hear him, Sarah could hear him. “Joel I promise I'm not trying to avoid you” you say quietly, lying straight through your teeth. And he knows it. You stand up and walk to close the door and can feel his eyes burning through you. “I just dont think-” “I've called you more times than I can count, and you aint returned a single one. Shit baby, your bra is still on my bedroom floor. Taunting me every night.” You can feel the warmth begin to rise on your face, and between your legs. “Mr.Miller, now is not the time or the place for this conversation. If we could please get back to Sarah.” He looks at you, deadpan. “Alright, come to my house tomorrow night at 8. Sarah will be with her mom for the weekend.” Internally, you groan. Externally, “Yes sir”. You watch him stir in his chair at your words, repositioning himself. 
The rest of the conference goes well, Sarah reads some of her writings to her dad, and shows him her favorite books. He asks her so many questions about her work and she is extremely detailed in every answer. He seems like a great dad, and it puts him in a different light for you. Now he isn't only hot, and great at sex, and great at aftercare, but he's a good dad. You are so fucked. 
Friday comes and goes, yet again you're exhausted. You take a steaming shower when you get home. Shaving your legs, just because. NOT for Joel. Once out of the shower, you change into a pair of blue biker shorts and an oversized Texans crewneck. You throw your hair up in a bun and make yourself some coffee. Hoping the coffee will help combat the sleepiness, you throw yourself onto the couch and turn on some Grey's Anatomy reruns, and begin to drift into a nap. You try to fight it, but it's inevitable. 
You wake up to your phone ringing. You check the time. 8:17. “Shit” you grumble. You flip your phone open without even checking the caller ID. “Hello?” you say, groggily. “There's my sweet girl.” He says, pausing briefly. “You’re late. Better get here fast, dinners gonna be cold.” And before you can get a word out, Joel hangs up. “Fuck fuck FUCK.” You say, frustratedly. This has gone too far, and god forbid your work gets wind of this disaster. You’d be screwed. You throw your shoes on and walk next door. 
Joel opens the door right as you walk up the steps. The smells instantly take you back to that morning. You still remember how he felt inside you, how his lips felt on yours, how his hand fit around your neck so perfectly how- “You gonna come in or you just gon’ stand there?” Joel snaps you out of your trance. You follow him the rest of the way in, kicking your shoes off at the door this time. “I made spaghetti with garlic bread. Stuck it in the oven to stay warm since you tried to stand me up.” He says, grinning. “Joel look” you start, “I really appreciate this, and I really had a” “Sit down and eat. We can talk after.” He says, pulling a chair out. He walks around to the fridge, opening the door. You can't stop staring at him. His shoulders so broad, and biceps borderline busting out of his shirt. You’re in a trance. “Red or white?” he says, but you don't hear him. You’re too busy eye fucking him, completely forgetting that the only reason you’re here is to end this before it starts. He turns around and sees you still looking straight through him, undressing him with your eyes. He grins a devilish grin and you snap back to reality. “Huh? Sorry I was-” “No need to explain, I asked if you wanted red or white wine?” he says, grinning “Oh.. ummm.. White please!” He sits the glass next to you, along with your plate of food. 
Dinner goes well, you talk about Sarah and how great of a student she is. You realize Joel could go on and on about her, because he does. Before you know it, its 10:00 and you're fighting sleep again. But this conversation needs to happen. You gather the plates and wine glasses and begin doing the dishes. “Darlin’ don't worry about those. I can do them in the morning.” “Joel, we need to talk.” You say, hoping it doesn't come off too harsh. You turn the sink off and dry your hands. “Joel, I had a lot of fun a few weeks ago. But I don’t think-” he cuts you off. “Why’re you thinkin’ baby? Thinkin’ don’t never lead to nothin’ good.” He says, wrapping his hands around your waist. As much as you don’t want to, you lean into his grip. “Joel, please.” you almost moan. “I don’t want to get in trouble at work, it's a huge ethical misconduct if the school were to ever find out, especially since Sarah is in my class.” He’s kissing up your neck, and you aren't doing anything to stop him. “I just want to taste you, just one more time.” He groans into your ear, nibbling on the tip. “This has to be the last time.” you think to yourself.
You don't fight it, you give in. And you enjoy every second of it. Joel picks you up and lays you on the table. The same table you just had dinner on. Your shorts are thrown across the room and your sweatshirt is being used as back support. He’s devouring every inch of your body. Leaving bite marks in unseen places. You hear his belt hit the floor and watch his shirt peel off of his body. You moan at the sight. He lines himself up with your aching cunt. “What was all that earlier about you gettin’ in trouble at work?” he says, comically. “Joel, please not-” and before you can squeak the rest of your sentence out, he's ramming his cock inside you. Over and over. “What's wrong baby? Can’t speak?” he says, laughing. Hes fucking you so hard that the goddamn table is moving. “I need something more stable.” He grunts, picking you up and throwing you on the island, his cock never leaving inside of you. He rubs vigorous circles around your clit, watching your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Dont. Stop. Joel.” You manage to say in between breaths. “I don’t ever plan to babygirl.” He says, rubbing faster. Your release is on the horizon. Everythings gone white and all you can focus on is the sound of skin slapping skin. Your back arches and you scream with pleasure. “Let it out babygirl, cum for me.” Just as you begin to come down, you feel Joel's cock tense up inside you, and he falls to your ear, moaning. He pulls out and you moan gutteraly. You feel the warmth of his seed dripping  Yet again, he disappears and reappears with a warm washcloth. Cleaning and kissing every inch of your body. 
You get cleaned up and dressed. Joel puts on a pair of sweatpants, no shirt. You could go for round 2 but 2 times is 2 too many. You begin to put your shoes on. “Darlin’, why don't you stay the night?” You instantly get nauseous, and feel tears? Maybe? You barely know this guy, what the fuck? “Joel, I told you. This cannot happen. Not again.” You say, trembling. “We can-” You cut him off. “No more Joel.” and you open the door and walk out. Leaving him just as quickly as you found him.
Masterlist - Chapter 4
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ppupkit · 23 hours ago
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how are you doing after the last 3 episodes of arcane
full spoilers for act 3 , long rant ahead ( sorry ദ്ദി (ᵒ̴̶̷᷄﹏ᵒ̴̶̷᷅) ). apologies if this is incoherent i ended up pulling an all nighter to watch act 3 and have had a busy few couple of days so i am a very gleeby little maddie atm..
i'm mostly upset and angry about it because it was just handled so poorly... like it was genuinely so ( ._. )"" i've talked about it elsewhere but i don't even really know what to say. i'm so upset about the way they sidelined the important character arcs and actual plot for timebomb sillies and a goofy over the top mel arc that was extremely rushed and didn't even bring the closure it was meant to about her dad and all of that. also 90% of the act being jayvik and it completely ignoring isha , sevika , and for the most part jinx , caitlyn , and vi... it's so disheartening i'm honestly not taking it well i feel just sort of upset and overall down. arcane has meant so much to me and it feels like all of the characters who i love so much just didn't even matter like i went on this journey with them all for nothing. there's so much more i could and would like to say but this is already getting long and i just feel an overwhelming amount of negative emotions at the moment. i'm going to continue making content for arcane ( mostly focusing around maddie , maddiecait , and maddiecaitvi because autism goes crazy ) but i might need a day or two to gather my thoughts and process everything. this act was super disappointing in every way. like i love mel and for the whole rest of the season was curious about her arc but it went from 0 to 100 so fast and was so campy it just didn't even feel like arcane. i think it's so insane that sevika didn't even speak once and that isha wasn't even mentioned like i just can't get past that. also they rushed caitvi's relationship so badly like we needed to see caitlyn's arc fully wrapped up with her coming to terms with all that she'd done , taking responsibility and apologizing to vi. we didn't get any of that though which is baffling to me..... also the implication of vi being a cop , sevika being on the council , vi just brushing over jinx's death ? it's so out of character. also with maddie , i have mixed feelings. i was hoping she'd do something big and i think i can definitely get behind the idea of her being a spy but it just doesn't line up with what was shown onscreen ? it felt like a major copout idk. i have many maddiecait and maddiecaitvi thoughts that i'll post on my main having to do with it but i'm just REALLY wishing we got to see more of maddie behind the scenes and that she got to be more fleshed out onscreen and not just through implications. like i like timebomb they're cute and all but episode 7 just felt so pointless and wasted like we could've used that time to actually be able to flesh out maddie or focus more on caitlyn / caitvi or on jinx and isha. i just don't see the point at all of that episode and i can't get past them just pretending isha never existed in favor of having a cute little timebomb au episode. : \
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scriptlgbt · 3 days ago
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Hello, hope you are doing well. I am currently trying to make an Aromantic Asexual character that is a sociopath. I believe there is a negative stereotype around these two parties that they are cold and unloving and would like to try portray and show people that hey they are human and are capable of love. However, I'm slightly hesitant to do so since I don't want to play into the stereotype. Please send advice! ( Also have a fantastic day)
This advice is going to lean on the "sociopath" term a bit because I have more advice to give on the topic, and it's also not something we've explored in this way before on the blog.
I have some biases here because I have a Cluster B personality disorder (a cluster which includes disorders that are often labelled as "sociopath"). The term sociopath is generally considered outdated at best and derogatory at worst, with people mainly only using the term to harken to a legacy of criminalizing and institutionalizing people who don't express care for others in a way that is legible to others, or whose care is not expressed in a healthy way.
Based on your wording here, I'm assuming that you are using the term in an earnest way to describe a neurodivergent experience, and do not believe in these ableist assumptions yourself.
Because of this, I would recommend determining more specifically what you mean by "sociopath," and then dropping the term. Do you mean low/no empathy? Do you mean a specific disorder (and which one)? What does this look like for them, and what does their emotional and mental experience feel like for them? There are resources out there for learning more about what these things feel like for people who have low/no empathy, or who have disorders that are categorized this way, but I think if it is not a thing that you experience, I would tread with a lot of caution and find a beta reader or sensitivity reader with these experiences who is comfortable talking about this with you.
Re: Aroace - there are people who are asexual and aromantic who have had pretty much every experience and identity alongside this. What makes a stereotype harmful is when:
They are the only representation.
They are not written as 3-dimensional characters with feelings and thoughts, identities and experiences that transcend these labels.
These can be countered by having more characters of the same identity who vary from the character you are concerned with, and making the characters all as multi-faceted as possible. You may not be able to explore every character's whole lives in depth in front of the reader, but to a reader, it still matters that this intricate life they have is implied and hinted at within the context.
But that is generally good writing advice, in my opinion. So many authors have characters that are written to fit a role within the life of the protagonist. Best friends are there to fawn over them and be supportive, but don't have hobbies or interests or an unrelated life thing going on offscreen. When you write, ask yourself, could someone feel inspired to write fanfiction of this character? Is there enough that they could put them in an AU and they would still be recognizably them? Or do they only exist by their relationship to the protagonist?
mod nat
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sulky-cabbage · 5 months ago
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AU: Where Sukuna Wins
Part 2
Part 1 here
This au makes me go crazy I had to make a part 2
Especially after reading your tags @fortunatelyenchantingtaco
I couldn't write this post until now cuz I was kinda busy but OH MY GOD
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Yessssss you get it
I'm having trouble imagining what would Sukuna be thinking after all those centuries though...
Would he realize that he's in love and that he got it bad?
Or would he deny it and make excuses?
(both options are sooo good but I prefer the latter, since he's a curse and all that... he's constantly cursing himself; this man is doomed, he can't have nice things. his worst enemy is himself)
I also wonder what would the people make of this. Like, why is Sukuna protecting babies with blue eyes when doing so would surely lead to his demise??? They must find that strange. They must believe he is suicidal or that he is looking for a worthy opponent (they are not that far off), or that he is incredibly arrogant and believes he can defy fate and crush their hopes by killing their symbol of hope.
And yes, imagine Satoru hearing all of that... his perception of Sukuna will undoubtedly be influenced by hearing all of that while growing up.
And I wonder what Uraume has to say about this... They must think that Sukuna lost his mind due to boredom, they gotta be a little worried...
God, oh god Imagine the day of Satoru's rebirth. (Make it nighttime for a more dramatic effect.)
As Sukuna gets ready for bed, he senses the shift in the universe, and then Uraume sees Sukuna bolt out of the window and sprint frantically in the direction of the closest village. He burns it to the ground while laughing maniacally. (end of ep 1 style)
(Bonus points if he shouts some dramatic, unintentionally romantic shit with the fire burning all around him, as we hear the screams of the villagers)
He was feeling ECSTATIC.
It's like he's the one being reborn
He hasn't felt this way in centuries...
His last memory of experiencing anything remotely similar was from a few centuries ago when he was ravishing a village and he heard a villager shout at him about a powerful person with blue eyes that shall be born soon to free humanity from his curse.
That had surprised him...
After all, Gojo Satoru had been forgotten for hundreds of years. All those who knew him were already dead. It was only he who was preserving Satoru's memory.
You can only imagine his astonishment upon hearing a random peasant bring up gojo Satoru after hundreds of years.
He abruptly stopped what he was doing, approached the man, and inquired as to how exactly he had learned about this. The man, who was obviously terrified, informed him that he wasn't meant to tell. Sukuna answered that if he tells him, he will spare his life and the lives of his family; if not, he will kill him and the rest of the villagers.
The man informed him that it is a prophecy that the elder shamans at Jujutsu High had predicted. He said that it was meant to be kept a secret because they were worried about what Sukuna would do if he found out, but somehow this information got leaked (probably because people are desperate and needed some solace), and now this villager blew everything out of frustration and anger.
Sukuna was in a VERY pleasant mood after that so he just left him alive and left the village alone.
He may or may not have gone to Shinjuku after that
The prophecy became even more widespread, he began to hear about it more frequently, and it lifted his mood every. single. time.
He gets even more excited as the decades pass by, Now that there are mentions of Gojo Satoru around him (even if he isn't mentioned by name), he feels as if Gojo Satoru is actually alive.
Gojo Satoru isn't just a memory anymore.
He's a prophecy
He's a threat
He poses a danger
He's a promise
He's an assurance.
From the cosmos itself.
A universe-given gift to him.
This promise is what makes his days worthwhile. He now has something to anticipate.
So yeah back to present time..
Sukuna just felt the shift in the universe and just finished destroying some village, including blue-eyed babies, he doesn't need to spare them anymore..lol
And now...
he's at a loss about what to do.
Should he go and find the whereabouts of Gojo Satoru to train him? (calm down, Sukuna, he's still a baby omg) Or Should he leave it to fate and wait for Gojo Satoru to come for his head?
And How long would that take?
He begins to wonder if the prophecy got influenced by the people's desire for salvation. Perhaps the original prophecy was about someone who would be comparable to him and cause him problems in battle, and people simply took it and ran with it, believing it to mean he would be overthrown...
Surely, it is quite a rare enough occurrence for someone to match his strength, so much so that it warrants a prophecy.
After all, Gojo Satoru lost to him last time, Why should this time be any different?
(He will not get his hopes up)
In the end, Sukuna is and always will be the strongest. Satoru would need to receive training directly from Sukuna in order to have any chance of surpassing him.
So yes... he will train Gojo Satoru to make sure he becomes the strongest version of himself...
(yeah that's the only reason... And definitely not because he missed him and wanted to see him right now even if he was still a freaking baby)
(Sukuna bringing Satoru to his house is also very Pharoah-ish)
But there would be a little problem...
If Satoru lived with Sukuna he wouldn't experience loneliness nor would he know the depth of people's suffering.
Sooo yeah... I kind of want them to not meet that often, because I want Satoru to live amongst regular people, and feel the depth of their suffering (and witness the precise harm that Sukuna is causing to everyone), while also feeling lonely and different from regular people.
So maybe the night that Sukuna goes to snatch baby Satoru, he ends up making some kind of deal with the Gojo clan regarding Satoru...
he agrees to let Satoru live with them and and in return they will name him Satoru (omg) and teach him the clan's secret techniques to make him stronger, and send him to Sukuna from time to time after he becomes an adult to train with him and see if he's ready for the fated battle...
Imagine Uraume's reaction upon learning that "Sukuna-sama" is actually instructing the strongest human sorcerer how to murder him 😔
Now What if Sukuna handles Satoru a little more cautiously during training? And attempts to teach him ways to avoid the world cutting slash...
He vows to himself that he will not use the world cutting slash against Gojo Satoru, he has to find another way to defeat him.
If he killed him in the same manner, it would be boring (yeah, that's definitely the reason; it has nothing to do with the trauma of missing Satoru for centuries and being so bored that it could drive a man insane. Yup, nothing to do with it AT ALL... even if It has gotten so bad to the point of making him completely unable to kill Satoru again. He suspects his brain will NOT allow his body to move and do it. But all will be more clear during the real battle so he just doesn't give it much thought)
And Satoru...
oh dear..
Imagine living your life with everyone expecting you to defeat the king of curses that has been looming over Japan for centuries, and he's also expecting you to defeat him and is training you himself????? Like??? Helloooo???
And the insane elders of his clan are clearly only using him for power; everyone keeps calling him Satoru Satoru, they keep saying he's this Satoru guy, they EVEN NAMED HIM SATORU??? (he's Unaware that it was Sukuna's request).
And he would definitely deny being Satoru due to his rebellious nature T-T
But they keep telling him that when he grows older, he will unlock limitless, have purple, and so on...
So as he gets older and everything unfolds exactly as they predicted, he begins to doubt himself...
And if his "Satoru" identity is the only reason he has this much power; This elevates the question: "are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru, or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest" to a whole new level 😭😭
(It seems that he will experience an identity crisis in every universe, huh?)
Given that Satoru would be quite young and undoubtedly beneath Sukuna in skill, it would be only natural for him to look up to Sukuna, who would essentially be his teacher, teaching him how to kill him. Which would leave Satoru bewildered as hell.
And After training with him for years Satoru starts to sympathize with Sukuna and feel like he's the only one that understands him, (his savior complex begins to take hold)
and Satoru's like: uh oh am I falling for the king of curses??? I've been training all this time to kill him, I don't want to fail everyone... (This man will never be free)
So he's torn between saving humanity or saving this curse (by reaching to him and teaching him love and oh boy here we go again history is repeating itself)
So he tries to reach Sukuna in his own way, and Sukuna clocks him right away😭😭
(And he's like you really haven't changed... Albeit he seems pretty pleased about it)
And then he starts monologing about how worthless love is, etc. etc. (He doesn't sound as convinced as before🤭)
Bonus points if we have Uraume in the back staring at the camera like in the office.
So Satoru figures out that Sukuna is too far gone and can not be fixed, but he will continue trying to reach him anyway. (There will be some cracks in Sukuna's walls but he's stubborn as hell)
Nevertheless, he's made up his mind to kill him if necessary. However, he made the decision that he will die along with him. (the prophecy would come true after all; it's fate; there's no avoiding it; Sukuna will die.)
And he doesn't want to remain alone after Sukuna dies.
Now would Satoru inform Sukuna about this plan of his?
Probably not, I want them to have communication issues because it's more fun that way🤭
I'm at a loss for what words they would say to each other before they die...
Especially when Sukuna realizes that Satoru is gonna die with him💔
My mind simply goes blank...
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victorluvsalice · 4 months ago
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AU Thursday: Valicer In The Dark -- More Score & Story Ideas!
Because, uh, I have a lot of ideas for stuff I want to do in this verse, and the original list from a year ago has expanded quite a fair bit:
-->While I haven't gotten all of my stories into a proper timeline yet, I do have the first five sorted:
A) "Start At The Beginning...Sort Of" -- the story currently in progress, where the trio all meet, solve Victor's ghost problem and Ghost!Emily's Barkis problem, get wrongly accused of murder, run from the police (showing off their special starting scoundrel abilities along the way), and eventually end up in Elder Gutknecht's old place in Six Towers. This is sort of the "prologue" to the whole mess, putting all of them in the right position to start on a life of crime. XD
B) "A Murder Shared Is A Murder Thirded" -- yes, I did have Gale of Baldur's Gate III's line about how "a parasite shared is a parasite halved" when I came up with that title. XD As you might imagine, this is the trio first "unofficial" score, with them going to murder Bumby, because the fucker needs murdering. Of course, it's only after they kill him that they meet up with Smiler's parents and learn they were exonerated of the original "murder" by the Spirit Wardens. XD Still no regrets, though.
C) "The Van Dort Vacancy" -- came up with that title while looking at old Oxventure Presents: Blades In The Dark episode titles and being inspired by "The Cab-Con Caper's" alliteration. This story focuses on Alice and Smiler returning Victor to the Van Dort mansion...only to discover the Van Dorts hosting a party. Victor quickly learns that his parents never even considered the idea that he might be in danger when he vanished, only caring about the fact that Victoria Everglot married someone else (and is now due to wed Imperial Guardsman Christopher White after her first husband's death and disgrace) -- and after overhearing his mother declare "what ghost would marry our Victor?" decides fuck them, he's taking his stuff, stealing what money he can, and going to live with Alice and Smiler in Six Towers. Features special guests Barnaby "The Butcher" Fortescue III and Kasimir Jones from Oxventure Presents: Blades In The Dark, because it tickled me to imagine them doing a score to steal some of the Van Dorts' money at the same time -- only for Victor to catch on to what they're doing when he meets Barnaby at the party and go "if you wait five minutes for me to get my things, I will open the safe for you and give you a good chunk of the money inside." XD
D) The currently-untitled story detailing the gang's first "official" job as a crew, picked up when they go to dinner at the Ball & Socket Pub and Smiler overhears two workers from Coalridge discussing needing to get something back from their boss -- the "something" is a list of potential union representatives that the boss stole in order to call assassins on the people listed. The workers need it back to keep their nascent union safe. Notably, the score involves the workers saying they can't give the trio much in Coin, but they'll do what they can -- and then one of them jokingly saying, "Unless you want to be paid in furniture."
Cue Victor, Alice, and Smiler, who currently live in Elder Gutknecht's-not-exactly-comfortable house, going "what kind of furniture?" XD (A couch and a proper dining table, specifically -- old furniture one of the workers was trying to shift after inheriting some stuff from a late relative.)
E) "Who You Gonna Call?" -- As you might guess from the Ghostbusters quote for a title, this story involves the gang busting some ghosts. XD Specifically, it involves Bonejangles -- here a Whisper who does entertainment work for the Ball & Socket on the side -- deciding to school Victor in the art of ghost-catching by taking him on a job to catch a few Echoes (non-sapient ghosts who continually do the same thing over and over again in a loop), with Alice and Smiler tagging along for moral support. However, as it turns out, one of those "Echoes" is actually a Specter (a sapient, feral ghost who attacks people and possesses them to feed on their life force) who was biding its time... I felt a little bad that none of the previous stories really had any Whisper-y stuff for Victor to do, and decided he needed a "day in the limelight" score -- as a bonus, this score is how he gets his ghost-hunting equipment for later!
-->I also have plans for two possible prequel stories -- one showcasing the three times Alice and Smiler talked before the events of "Start At The Beginning...Sort Of" (I have the first bit, Smiler giving Alice the money for lunch, actually written already), and one showcasing some of Smiler's life even before that (I have a rough draft of the scene where they wake up the "morning" after inventing Joy Serum and go "bwuh?" over their newly-glowing yellow eyes). Good for filling in gaps and writing more stuff from Smiler's POV!
-->I mentioned Victor wanting to make a community greenhouse very briefly in the very first post I made about the AU -- this has expanded into a whole little arc about him finding an abandoned conservatory while wandering Six Towers and the gang fixing it up into a place where they and the other residents can grow food. In order, the stories would cover:
1) Getting enough money to pay a glazier to fix all the broken window panes (or doing something for the glazier in trade)
2) Acquiring the initial plants (which involves a trip to Barrowcleft and probably doing a job for someone there in trade)
3) Victor researching ways to infuse butterflies and moths with electroplasm to create radiant energy insects to help the plants grow; my idea is that he eventually tries mixing it with some of Smiler's Joy Serum -- and gets REALLY BIG bright yellow glowing moths, to his and Smiler's delight and Alice's concern
4) And then, once the place is just about ready to "open to the public," Lord Rowan, the only lord who maintains a permanent residence in Six Towers, rocks up, claims the greenhouse is his, and demands an absolutely ASTRONOMICAL rent from the trio to use it. Fortunately he proves to be a man who likes games when Smiler asks to negotiate, and tells them if they can break into his house and get the deed to the land from the safe in his bedroom, it's theirs (the trio smartly get this written down and notarized by someone in Charterhall first; Rowan is PIIIIISSED when he realizes he'll have to honor the deal)
-->A related idea would be for the gang to encounter some of the people in Charterhall (the neighborhood mostly made up of one big university) who are working on an alternative power source to help replace leviathan blood (which is refined into the electroplasm that powers everything electric in the setting) and need a place to test it. The trio decides that the alternative energy group can try to get the streetlights back on in Six Towers, and there's a score all around helping them get there safely, and keeping Lord Rowan's nose out of it until they're done. Not sure what exactly it will entail yet, but I'm eager to find out!
-->As stated in previous posts, the gang eventually has to go after Dr. Kelman when he puts out a notice saying he wants the three captured so he can submit them to his special "social compliance therapy" (aka do horrific brain surgeries on them and/or Hollow them by ripping out their souls). This is how Victor and Alice learn Smiler's birth name, and the whole trip proves to be a rather dark look at Smiler's childhood pre-running away and joining the Advocates. In fact, I already have one specific scene in mind of Victor finding a photograph of a young Smiler and noting that their smile in the picture looks incredibly strained, as if they're desperately trying to see the bright side. Also, Miles Cedars is definitely going to show up, and possibly get to murder Kelman. Because I like giving him the chance to murder Kelman. :)
-->Speaking of Smiler angst, I also have in mind a story where, on a particularly chilly night in winter, Smiler, Victor, and Alice are wandering the streets together when Smiler somehow falls into one of the local canals. Victor and Alice fish them out as fast as possible, fortunately, but the rest of the story proves a race against time to get Smiler home and warmed before they succumb to hypothermia. Featuring half-naked cuddling when they learn that skin-to-skin contact can be an excellent way to warm a chilled person (fortunately this is after they get together as a polycule, so the partial nudity isn't as awkward as it could be)...and Smiler crying in front of Victor and Alice for the first time when they can't stop thinking about the fact that, if they'd been walking with their fellow Advocates, said Advocates would have believed them when they said they felt okay...and they probably would have died. :( It is a story of many feels, is what I am saying.
-->So, when does my OT3 actually become an OT3 in the actual stories? Shortly after the Kelman score, in a story entitled "And There Was Only One Bed" (a play on the fic trope, and the fact that the house only has one good bed -- at the time the story starts, the three are taking turns using it, with the other two sleeping on cots borrowed from The Advocates). The story involves Smiler (who has been trying to subtly push Victor and Alice together, having noticed they seem to like each other) finally revealing to Victor and Alice that they're a pretty accomplished hypnotist, and offering to use their skills to help Victor with a nasty bout of insomnia. Victor agrees, with Alice wanting to watch for her own peace of mind -- cue Smiler hypnotizing Victor the next time the three of them are going to bed...
And a deep-in-trance Victor asking to be held as he falls asleep. Prompting both Smiler and Alice to cuddle him...and fall asleep against him because neither wants to get up and possibly disturb him after he does drift off. Meaning when everyone wakes up the "morning" afterward, they're all really awkward -- Alice because she's like "wtf why did I find that hot;" Victor because he's like "oh no I liked that too much and I have to process the fact that I'm in love with both of them now;" Smiler because "damn it I think I just decreased total happiness in this household should have kept my stupid mouth shut." They do their best to push through and complete the latest job they have though (a random "steal something from this rich fucker's house" deal, it's not actually important), which ends up with them having to clamber up onto the roof at some point --
And then Victor nearly falls off said roof. Prompting both Alice and Smiler to nearly have a heart attack and have their feelings toward him thrown into STARK RELIEF. Meaning they all finally have a chat once they complete the job and get back home, which allows them to finally discover that a) they're all willing to get into a polycule and b) that they actually have quite compatible kinks. Story ends with Smiler delightedly returning one of the cots to their parents (Alice insisted on keeping one in case one of them does want or need to sleep alone) and the three of them regularly sharing the bed. :)
-->I also want to do at least one follow-up concerning them starting to play around with hypnosis, and Alice insisting she wants to do something that will help keep Victor Victor no matter what they do to his head -- cue her and Smiler coming up with a safety suggestion that involves Victor picturing the core of his personality as a glowing tree, and then having him encase it in unbreakable glass so his personality can shine out, but nothing can get in. :) It's just a sweet scene that's been rattling around in my head for a while, and I'd like to put it to virtual paper.
-->I mentioned a "Lord E.A. Bethesda" in my Duskwall Slang post a while back, as a guy who gets labeled with the very-dangerous-in-Duskwall title "Welcher" (someone who hires someone for a job, but then decides to try and kill them instead of pay them; people who do this generally end up dead themselves). How does he get saddled with this label? By hiring the Three Pillars to steal a golden beetle statue from a rival (Lord Bethesda is a bug collector, you see), plying them with a hefty reward if they pull it off (which he can afford as the "Gambling King" of Duskwall -- his fortune was built off of getting lots of people to pay him small amounts of money in hopes of great reward). They do indeed pull it off --
And Lord Bethesda happily orders them killed by his guards, forcing them to escape his house in Brightstone. However, Bethesda (who has done this before) employs Plan B and has his guards herd them toward his garden and through a gap in the lightning barrier around his home --
Before turning said barrier back ON and stranding them in the HEAVILY ghost-and-horror-riddled Deathlands just beyond (specifically, they're in the Lost District, a formerly rich neighborhood that was abandoned once the lightning barriers went up). This leads into the sequel story, where the trio have to find a way back into the city while navigating the horrors of the Deathlands...which results in them discovering that Alice's Wonderland Jabberwock, inspired by an illustrated poem she read as a child, is actually based on a REAL CREATURE. Which has the horrible eye beam and wants very much to kill them. (And which may have the voice of Christopher Lee because I might as well throw in the nod to Tim Burton's Wonderland -- Victor is VERY CONFUSED as to why it sounds like Pastor Galswells.) They manage to kill IT instead by strapping Alice's Vorpal Blade (now a real thing, Victor bought it for her as a present) to Victor's ghost-catching kit while Smiler whacks together a sort of motorized skateboard thing for them to ride on and then using the electroplasmically-charged Blade to slice the damn thing's unprotected belly open. Alice claims one of the eyes as a trophy, and shortly thereafter they're found by the Spirit Wardens, who look at the corpse and go "let's just get you back inside the barriers, shall we?" Cue the the trio tromping back to the Ball & Socket and telling the clientele about their experience...leading to Lampblack gang leader Bazso Baz declaring Bethesda a Welcher, and the guy soon afterward getting killed.
-->Not that Baz is actually a friend to the trio -- for another future story has the trio invited to one of his fancy parties, supposedly to recognize how rapidly they've made a name for themselves in the Duskwall underworld. The three go, figuring it's a good way to keep relations good with their fellow criminals -- but are quickly rather disgusted by the party itself, as it feels pretty much like any party Nell Van Dort would throw (overly ostentatious and making it clear he's only in it for the power). They resolve to get through the shindig and head home...
And then Baz reveals that the actual reason they were invited was because they've collected a variety of bounties on their heads (including a big one from the Van Dorts, specifying Alice and Smiler have to die but Victor be brought home alive, and a huge one from Lord Rowan, wanting them ALL dead) and the other criminals want to claim them. Cue the Three Pillars having to try and find a way to escape from the house as the other criminals hunt them. Fortunately for them, they have unexpected allies in Baz's staff, with one guy in particular having a sister and nephew in Six Towers whom they've helped a lot (probably both in general with the greenhouse, and specifically by helping the kid when he got sick once). They eventually manage to get out with the staff's help, and limp their way back to Six Towers...
Just in time to see Lord Rowan trying to make a big speech to the citizens about "how your heroes are dead" and blah blah blah. He is gobsmacked to see the trio still alive, leading to, of all people, Smiler strolling up to him and clocking him in the face. XD Gaining the Three Pillars a reputation as, frankly, unkillable...
Aaaand I should probably cut it there because this post is getting long enough. XD And I haven't even touched upon all the stories I have in mind that are based off of other properties I like! Guess that would be a good follow-up post to this one, huh? :p
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void-and-virtue · 1 year ago
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Writing fanfic is so dangerous bc whenever I see the name ‘Seth Gordon’ now, my brain just goes “SETH!! My man!!! My dude!!! Allison and Renee’s platonic husband!!!!” And then I have to take a moment of silence as I remember that oh. Oh, in canon, he is first an asshole and then dead
#truly it’s a struggle#my brain saw him and decided he’s free real estate#I just think this guy has so much potential to be explored in AU#my fascination with him is entirely based in the quote from tfc where he explains why he hates Kevin so much#‘his life is not more important than mine just because he’s more talented’#and the entire conversation surrounding that#Seth is a foil to the part of Neil that is all boundless jealousy over being the discarded one while Kevin Day shines#and just like Seth is often forgotten about I feel like that part of Neil is not often talked about either even tho it’s so essential to him#it’s literally quoted to be the thing Andrew found so interesting as to let him stay#and Seth is a character who potentially could carry that same theme with a perspective that is both unique and complimentary to Neil#which is why I fully am with the EC part where Nora says she thinks they would have been friends#and I would love to see that friendship explored#just like I would love to see Seth’s character growth and redemption leading to a better relationship with the upperclassmen#which is exactly what brings me to Renee/Allison&Seth#Seth and Allison breaking up for good and happily settling into a very committed platonic relationship is something that can be so personal#I have so many thoughts about their relationship rattling around in my brain I swear#and ofc Renison bc they are incredibly canon to me#and I think it could be really interesting to explore where Renee and Seth may find common causes when they are pulled together via Allison#aftg#aftg spoilers#all for the game#the foxhole court#aftg headcanon#aftg hc#seth gordon#renee walker#allison reynolds
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theythemmer · 10 months ago
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for years my friends have tried to get me back into minecraft and idk how to explain to them that after tosoth the game will never be the same . it’s been A DECADE and this fic still rules over my brain
#and don’t even TALK about snow angels around me i’ll cry blood and vomit tears#that fic gave me SO many trust issues i hve TO THIS DAY#and i KNOW ive ranted about this before but IT GENUINELY TRAUMATISED ME#but i was at one of the lowest points of my life and decided fuck it. i’m gonna read a long fic. i’m usually a max 25k person but i was like#nah let’s get invested in this one. good ol erisol human au. what could go wrong#oh dear reader it turns out that there was something that could go wrong#because at tht time i was an avid ff net user and there are no warnings there#especially not for major character death.#so i’m so invested in this fic#got a few chapters left. and then i start a chapter i swear ive read before in a one shot#and i’m over the MOON bc i know how this ends. they get engaged! so i’m SO fkn happy#and then. all alone in the snow of their front yard. eridans heart gives out. and he’s gone.#as a very traumatised teen who was dependant on happy endings to make me feel like life was worth living#i have never felt heartbreak and betrayal like that. only other thing that ever made me feel that much was my really messy breakup w da loml#i didnt sleep for a week. i was constantly sobbing and breaking down at school#reading about sollux going through their minecraft world and i just#yeah.#haven’t been able to make pancakes since too. used to be the thing i was best at#since then pancakes minecraft and snow angels are forever tainted#absolutely INCREDIBLE fic but i do Not do MCD or sad endings#and i was like being horrifically abused going thru hormonal conversion therapy to ‘fix’ my nonexistent sex drive#whilst dealing with r/pe accusations simultaneously . as a fkn 16 year old baby trans gay ace#so i was going thru it and when i tell you my ENTIRE mental state was depending on the dopamine i got from fan fictions w endings that#gave me hope my story wasn’t gonna end there. for them to struggle for so long to find true happiness within eachother#to them being torn apart by the cruel hand of death#bro i was inconsolable for so long . i still am and im almost 26 LMFAO#know it seems so silly to be so worked up over this but i can’t articulate how much my undiagnosed autistic bpd cptsd ridden self depended#on these fics to emotionally regulate#OBV THIS IS NOTHING AGAINST THE AUTHOR OR THE FIC I WAS JUST YOUNG AND TRAUMATISED AND COPING UNHEALTHILY#but i will never be able to play minecraft happily ever again
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tteokdoroki · 2 months ago
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✎ᝰ. OCT 8TH ★ MONSTER FUCKING - katsuki bakugou .ᐟ
[CHAPTER EIGHT BEAUTY & THE BEAST] katsuki bakugou as the beast + monster fucking. once upon a time, a village girl thinks to herself — fuck it! being trapped inside a castle with a monstrous sexy bloody beast isn’t so bad… she might as well make it worth her while ( 10.3K ).
✧ chapter contents - minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, beauty & the beast!au, enemies to lovers, bath sex, soft sex, cum play, blood play, size kink, praise kink, body worship, pussy jobs, body modifications, tummy bulges, premature orgasms, marking, biting, belle + fem!reader, beast!katsuki bakugou.
✧ fairy godmother's note - hello, time for our second kinktober fic yippieee!! i think this is my second time doing bakugou and monster fucking...he's just perfect for it!! anyways, enjoy my loves! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ☆
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the beast wasn’t all that bad. 
at least, not compared to most people back home. 
in the village, beyond the forest’s edge and hidden by evergreen foliage — the townsfolk believe you to be as beautiful as the world around you. eyes as bright as the golden sun rising over a hilly horizon. skin as soft as the flesh of fresh fruits hanging low from the trees. a voice that compliments that of early morning birds — gentle, kind. you’re the perfect vision. a perfect person. except for your one fatal flaw. 
you have your wits about you. it makes you strange. 
the people of your village think you were peculiar for having the tip of your nose poked into the spine of of a book each and every day. it’s not your fault that you enjoy the scent of their pages or that you find every story so alluring that you could read it over once or twice (and sometimes thrice). the people back home were unnerved by your intelligence — staring at you sideways if you daydreamed for a little too long (wishing for a life outside of your tiny province, one  full of adventure) or sending you concerned stares if you stumbled over your steps while reading.
it didn’t help that your papa was a whimsical inventor — his intricate machines that coughed and spluttered a little too loudly and left him covered in soot were often the talk of the town, worsening the whispers. despite the cruel opinions of others, papa’s love for you never faltered, all the while promising you that his prized tools would get you out of town, away from the people who called you odd and strange —  they thought him just as crazy as you. like father like daughter, you suppose.
then there was shindou. the most sought after bachelor in all of town and quite possibly the worst part about your old life. your life before the beast. the man was handsome, that much was true — his eyes and hair an inky black that would draw anyone in like a misty night. features, chiselled and strength obvious. shindou was pretty, eye candy without an ounce of brains. conversation with him felt like watching paint dry, he spoke so highly of himself you often wondered how his head hadn’t imploded from getting so big. for some reason, he was hellbent on making you his wife. not because you were smart, or liked to read and explore, but because to him… you were a pretty prize to be treasured.
so, when you stumbled upon the beast’s castle that night and gave up your freedom in exchange for your father’s, you hadn’t realised how lucky you were to be away from yo shindou and his crew. the village too. still, that didn’t take away from the harsh reality of your new prison. an enchanted castle, enclosing you in with the mangy beast. 
in strange ways, as strange as your mind, you found in your heart to feel sympathy for the beast, or bakugou as you’d come to know him. for many years he’d been cursed with a form cruel to the human eye — shaggy blonde fur, wild and blood red eyes and horns that were comparable to the devils. his selfish nature and a spell from hundreds of years ago had not been kind to the creature. from the sounds of things ( stories from the seemingly…alive…furniture existing within the walls of his withering home ) bakugou had failed to show concern or care in his youth, by taking a rose from a haggard old woman in exchange for a night’s worth of shelter. in return, she cursed him with the looks of a beast until he could find true love. 
his staff ( the furniture ) had told you of his crumbling hope and damaged heart. it still didn't excuse his odd behaviour — where the princely beast told rather than asked, scratched and smashed rather than communicated. he was much angrier than the other inhuman inhabitants of the enchanted castle. though…sometimes you noticed a tenderness swirling between the brown flecks within katsuki’s vermillion eyes, rich with a longing for affection that filled you with warmth whenever you caught him staring at you reading in the library he’d set up just for you or when he’d take you outside to feed the birds in the snow together. 
other times, katsuki could be somewhat…charming. since arriving, you could tell that he was doing his best to become a gentleman who toned down his anger. he fiddled with cutlery too small for his claws during meals with you just to be polite — denying his blush with a petulant pout whenever he was caught. he tried not to stare too long or at the wrong places whenever you spoke and spent time together. he wasn’t like shindou, who drooled over you like you were a piece of meat fresh from a roast. 
for a long time, you all but wished to find someone who understood you — who’d nurture your mind and the wind beneath your wings rather than see you as a prized pet bird to be kept in a cage. and over time, you had naively began to believe that katsuki, the beast, might have been the only person in this whole world to see you exactly the way you wanted to be seen. the hope that you had met your match flickered like a small candle’s flame in your heart — it reflected as a small glint of light in katsuki’s once exhausted, pessimistic eyes. you thought, day by day, that you could be happy here. with the beast. in place of your village back home.
just when you thought katsuki was changing, that maybe you could be happy here with the beast — you’re thrown back into a reality you had tried so hard not to face. katsuki is a beast, a cruel monster keeping you a prisoner in his home. you are not a friend who has free roam over his castle or free will under his rein, you’re reminded that you’re his captive in exchange for your father’s remaining life. your wake up call comes in the form of an argument, the result of stumbling across the forbidden east wing and a rose petal that wilts so pretty in the centre of an abandoned room. 
“i thought i fuckin told you never to come in here!” you could see it in his frenzied eyes, how the trust you’d built up with the beast so quickly came tumbling down. you’d crossed a line and an unspoken rule and no matter how many times the word sorry poured from between your plush lips — bakugou the beast was far beyond the point of forgiveness. he couldn’t trust you, and you couldn’t trust him. “leave!” he’d bellowed, snarled like a warning sign. 
katsuki had lashed out at you in a way you’d never seen before. like a wild animal backed into a corner. he’d shown you fangs and growled at you in a noise you know for sure humans don’t make. “get the fuck out!” he roared until you were trembling, throwing whatever he could get his clawed hands on whilst  splintering wood and shattering porcelain. 
you’d done just that, dashing down flights of stairs in terror while throwing your cape on. 
the inhabitants, his little candleholder sero and tiny clock denki along with the others, had tried to stop you. begging you not to face the cold bitter night alone on your horse but your judgement was far too clouded by your emotions — the hurt and betrayed wounds inflicted by the beast who’s trust you thought you had earned. the snowstorm outside rages with your unstable state, how could he scream at you like that? how could he say those awful things? it’s not long before you’re lost the ice cold and the daunting wolves that assume you’re a prey item like a vulnerable deer instead of a young girl with bambi eyes. 
viscous, wild, teeth and tongue snap at your horse — threatening to wound you both and draw blood. the animal that you ride, in turn, throws you to the ground in favour of its own escape. 
you can’t even blame the poor creature, only fools risk their lives to be at the mercy of a beast.
yet, your beast, your bakugou moved without thinking to save you from a bitter end. you recognise his growls before you see him — and before you know it the limp bodies of wolves that attacked you go flying over your head. their own howls and growls turn to pathetic puppy whimpers as bakugou fights them off, tooth and nail. fighting with all his might to protect you from getting your throat torn out. even if he’d frightened you, screamed at you and broken your trust — he wasn’t about to lose you to a brutish winter and a pack of hungry wolves. the blonde creature fights until his burly body is done and his claws are tainted with the blood of his enemies — wearily looking for you, checking you for wounds in such a gentle way you’re surprised out of your skin. heart racing.
you’ve never seen katsuki look at you that way, as  though he was just as terrified of you dying as you were at the thought dying yourself. its not long before his adrenaline wears off and the wounds he’d gotten from his battle finally take their toll on him.
it gives you the chance to run. to escape. to be home with your father. 
but what would be waiting for you at the other end? a marriage to a man with half a brain and six children to fill the void. people who thought you mad and crazy? you’d made a promise to stay with him, for your father’s life. there was no other choice but to lug bakugou back to his castle using all of your might. to help him. to save him. not because you wanted to, but because you had to. 
at least that’s what you’d told yourself as a way of pretending not not to care for him.
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piping hot water sloshes around in the pearlescent tub, fit only for royalty. it’s taken you some time to fill it up to full volume with the help of some of the castles staff… or inanimate objects. momo the sweet little tea pot had been working overtime to boil fresh batches until the water level was high enough for the beast. you’re sure that her stout had nearly given out, but for her master, she’d pushed on. her dedication, all of their dedication (the candleholder, the little clock, the pots and pans and foot rests and dusters) make you wonder what had truly become of this place, a crumbling castle so dark and gloomy that it was left for ruin.
was the beast really worth all of this trouble for all of them to stay by his side and endure his foul demeanour?  
then again, why were you also tending to the beast? it’s not as if you enjoyed his company, yet you stay, drawing this bath to help tend to his wounds. the wounds he had gotten as a result of protecting you. 
you spare him your gaze once the bellowing creature ( now unusually quiet ) enters the room; no longer tailed by his animated inanimate servants — nothing but a roll of steam and a wall of silence separating the two of you now. though it’s hard not to look at how well he’s built beneath patches of straw blonde fur. 
katsuki’s arms are burly and toned, his chest is well sculpted as if carved from the very same stone that makes up the beautiful interior of his castle, whilst the angle of the beast’s face is strong, handsome. you wonder what he may look like completely human, if his jaw would still be sharp enough to cut through marble and diamonds. if his eyes would be narrowed and fiery, swirling with the riches of ruby gems. it takes all your willpower to tear your secretive stare away from him while he undresses in front of you, as though you’re not even there, heat growing rapidly in the middle of your face like the epicentre of an earthquake.
water sloshes violently as his hulking frame sinks into the bath, tinging it an ink stain of rosey pink from where it warmly laps over his open wounds — the sound of water hitting the smooth stone floor lets you know that you can turn around to tend to him. you keep your gaze lowered and mindful as you work, wringing a soft linen cloth in a clearer pot of the liquid mixed with rubbing alcohol. “h-hey, don’t do that,” you scold gently, lips falling into an unimpressed frown as the beast moves to lick at his cuts and scratches. bakugou pauses and squints at you menacingly while you reach for the same soggy paw he’d been tending to. you’d laugh if he weren’t so wounded and you weren’t so scared — he looked like a kitten. “i need to clean them properly.” 
an ignorant scoff from the blonde tangles with the soapy steam in the air, only earns him a roll of your eyes and a frustrated glare — his head angling itself away from you because he doesn’t want to give in and admit that your call of action would be right. you find it childish that he would ignore you but take to dabbing the first bleeder that you find with your alcohol soaked cloth, ensuring that it’s completely clean. the stinging sensation at the opening of the wound causes katsuki to roar at you in pain, baring the sharp edge of his teeth as if to threaten you with them.
you jump back, knowing that one wrong move could have you torn up by vicious claws and teeth. “just hold still!” you snap, raising your hands out of the way. “stop being such a baby and let me help you!”
“that fucking hurts, watch it.” he spits hotly, nostrils flared in annoyance. 
beginning to shake from a mix of anger and fear, you throw the bloodied cloth in your hand to the edge of the tub. the beast doesn’t look at you and your own temper flares. your face scrunches furiously and a cool snarl lays on the tip of your tongue — your own way of trying to put out the flames before they end in a disastrous blow out. 
“if you’d just kept still it wouldn’t hurt so much!”
crimson roses bloom on the surface of the water and bakugou whirls around sharply, both of your chests rising and falling at the impending explosion threatening to blow smoke into the crowded bathroom. “well, if you hadn’t have run away ‘nd straight into a shitty wolf’s den, then this wouldn’t have fucking happened!” he growls back with the air of a petulant child. 
“well you hadn’t fucking frightened me, i wouldn’t have run away!” your petty mouth surprises bakugou, you almost seem too pretty to curse — from the moment you’d first arrived at the cursed castle; your beauty had been a breath of fresh hair, hope for a brighter future on the horizon but since being cursed, any charm the beast… the prince might have had wore away over the years. leaving a husk of the man he once was, you have him stumped and spluttering for words, causing his staff behind the closed door to laugh.
an argument, though childish and silly, brews between you both like a storm coming from over a hill. neither of you dare to back down, not caring if you leave deeper and more emotional wounds on one another. katsuki doesn’t know how people work and you’re exhausted, missing home — the pair of you a ticking time bomb of disaster waiting to happen. “well… well, y’shouldn’t have been goin’ through my shit in the west wing!” bakugou reacts before he thinks, wet talons grabbing onto the crisp front of your shirt as he leers down, a gnarly growl clawing its way out of his throat to match the nasty sneer on his snout and lips. “i warned ya, shit happens when you don’t listen.” 
at the end of your tether, you forcefully push the herculean tyrannical beast back into the tub — using a surprising amount of might to fully submerge him in the hot water once more. “well you should learn to stop being such a stubborn brat and control your temper!” you’re hardly thinking rationally at this point, sick and tired of letting him think he can bully you into silence and submission… just because he’s big and has claws and sharp teeth that could rip meat from a live carcass. 
you move to shove him again but bakugou acts just as quickly — using his existing grip on you to yank you further into his bath. in a struggle and with a surprised scream that overlays his frustrated growling, you collapse against his furry chest and settle into his lap as water sloshes forcefully about the place and soaks through your dress — weighing down its fabric and slowing your movements. after a few minutes of wet wrestling; katsuki either gives up because of the pain caused by his cuts or refuses to fight you anymore — fully aware of what his size in comparison could do to you.
he slumps deeper into the tub, brooding, and an unbearable tension mounts in the air around you. the position has brought you face to face, breath mingling in the pocket of space and time between you both — above him, staggered forward, with your arms either side of his head for stability, katsuki feels that you’re close enough for him to reach out and just brush a thumb over the swell of your plush lips… gently grasp at your chin and maybe give you a kiss. he doesn’t know when he started feeling this way towards you or why he lashes out at you in place of sharing his true emotions but the beast casts his ruby framed gaze to the side, avoiding entering the possibility of making you uncomfortable.
after a moment, any anger that either or you shared fizzles away like a sparkler doused in a bucket of icy water. shame replaces the fire in your veins and you quickly distract yourself from less than proper thoughts of the beast by get back to work on the bleeders in his arms. “n-now hold still…” you tell him, swallowing thickly which undermines the authority in your voice. “it’s going to sting… so please, let me help you.” your voice falls into a tender whisper as you resume dabbing at his injuries with the rag.
bakugou snarls barks roughly while you clean him  up but soon relaxes into the water, comforted by your soft vanilla scent and the warmth of your thighs around your waist to keep yourself steady. now that he’s no longer directing his anger at you, the atmosphere dissipates into something more affectionate, hearts beating in calm sync — you sitting on his lap looking so pretty while the lukewarm water carves out the shape of your body beneath wet clothes. 
“by the way, thank you for saving my life back there.” 
“you’re welcome,” eyes closing, bakugou lets out a shuddered breath, his voice thick with gravel and bidy fidgety beneath your own. despite the cooler water surrounding you both, the temperature in the room rises like a solar flair — especially when your proximity increases so that you can dab up to the gashes stretching across his handsome fully face. when your eyes meet again, admist the work, the blonde is overcome with the urge to kiss you. he surges forward and presses your foreheads together, a large marred and hand encasing the swell of you thigh to pin you to his lap. the movement is rough, disturbing the peaceful bath water but the kiss he gives you is careful and cautious — slightly chapped lips swooping upwards to catch yours in a cute chaste kiss. 
you jump at the sudden contact, your entire body tingling with release and an excitable heat flashes through you at the brief sensation. you taste the blood in his mouth and salt on his tongue but before you can fully enjoy the moment —  katsuki is gone as quickly as he came. leaning back into the tub with a flushed face. 
it’s like your body misses him when he’s gone; despite never having him like this before. “wait… wait,” desperate whispers pour from between your subtly glossed lips and your bath water soaked hands come up to cup the fluffy edges to his face. “kiss me. kiss me again, katsuki,” 
surprised by the lack of rejection; bakugou’s talons sink further into the doughiest part of your thighs torn between obliging your request and keeping you far, far away from him. no one has ever wanted something like that… like a kiss, from him of all people. a horrid, ugly and undeserving beast. and yet, you borderline beg above him, hardly distracting from the wet glint in your eyes. you want this. want him. “are you… are you sure?” he tries to ask you, preening into your dainty fingers as they comb back his wet fur. 
“i’m sure,” you hum against him, wanting. “please. it’s what i want.” 
for a moment; it doesn’t seem like katsuki s going to budge. you sense his hesitancy, some kind of mental block that makes him hold back even as he leans in haltingly and noses over your Cupid’s bow. it’s like he’s testing his own confidence and your patience wears thin — so you open your mouth to plead, to encourage him only for the blonde beast  to delve deep into the yearning hotness of your mouth. his lips move against yours with a feverish air, unleashing hundreds of years of pent up emotion and revealing just how touch starved he must have been all this time.
from what you can tell, the beast has been alone for a long rime — shunned for his looks and the cool ice cage around his heart. you’re not sure if you care about any of that, not right now, at least. for your body wins the war over your mind and heart, all worked up by the mash of teeth and tongue that from the basis of your kisses. he gives you what you asked for, long and thick tongue pressing into every unexplored crevice of your eager mouth — starting an itch in your lower belly that you know only bakugou would be able to reach. 
having the beast like this, hungry for passion, wandering claws and sharp edged teeth nipping at your lips makes you needier and needier. you sigh dreamily into the sloppy lip locks, losing all control and pushing your hips down against katsuki. rubbing your thighs together over his wide lap is no easy feat, but you try, dying to alleviate the ache brought on by toothy kisses and the possessive sounds he makes when you try to pull away for air. he grunts gluttorally when your clothed cunt accidentally brushes against his impressive bare girth — the only thing separating your sexes being the water logged gusset of your panties, linen and pure white in colour.
you can practically feel his cock twitch beneath your legs as you straddle the beast, peaking out through his golden fur and hardening by the minute. his size should be intimidating to you, just half hard and he’s practically the length of half your arm, even if you were to give it some thought … you’re far too distracted. mind far too hazy — katsuki tearing away from your kiss to stamp a frenzied pathway up your neck and marking it with his claim. the action proves to you that his bark indeed matches his bite when he wants it too, vicious red eyes mapping their way over the unmarked parts of your skin — licking and sucking bruises just beneath the surface that’ll be obvious to the staff in the morning. tender to the touch later on as well.
he doesn’t leave you in pain for too long, lapping over the inflamed areas with his heavy wet tong — a paw reaching out of the bath to settle on the back of your head so he can further relish in the way you weakly hang over him. “so soft….so delicate,” bakugou curiously seeks out more spots along the column of your throat to see which ones make you tick and sigh for him prettily, your warm, wet pussy reacting to his quiet raspy tone and clenching around the water in the tub. with shaky hands, you weave your digits into the roots of golden honey fur in an attempt to bring his mouth back to yours. dying to taste the beast yet again.
you want more. you want to go further. perhaps it’s the adrenaline from having almost lost your life earlier on in the night or maybe you just want to find some sick way to thank the creature that saved it. but all you know, is that you want the beast — right down to your very core. you whimper in frustration and your pulsating pussy rolls smoothly over the beast’s swelling erection floating in the bath water, it’s not enough to satisfy you when you’re burning for his tender touch this bad. “please,” you coo airly, head tilting where katsuki kisses the point at which your neck meets your jaw, tongue dragging over your pulse point. “please give me more of you.” 
it’s a big ask, you know. to ask katsuki to be vulnerable with you when you’ve just been at each other’s throats. but you’ve always wanted to know him, from the moment he decided to keep you here in his castle — you’ve wanted to know who he really is behind the fangs, claws and fur. what better time than to ask him now, when you’re grinding against him in a bathtub that barely fits him and dwarfs you by contrast. “why?” bakugou murmurs softly; his fur tacking to your wet skin.
“because… i know you want me too. i-i want to give myself to you.” you huff, shivering at the tenderness in his voice which differs to the black claws that rake up and down your inner thighs, sneaking past the hem of your damp skirts to the scalloped edge of your underwear. 
your hands still track their way through his sun kissed fur, lifting his head from your chest to have him look at you. his vermillion eyes drink in every inch of your darling face, puffy lips and doe eyes that glisten under the flickering candle light in the regal bathroom. fucking hell, you were right. he wanted you. ‘course he did. 
“if that’s what you wish…” bakugou’s chest rumbles as he speaks before capturing your lips in a chaste kiss, earning warm pools of your slick through your panties, right against his hard cock. he secures his hold on you and shifts to lift you both from the tub — presumably to continue this in his chambers as you grind and grab at him.
however, you tug harshly enough on his fur to make him falter — droplets of water splattering from his silky coat to the tub when he freezes in place (half out of the tub). “w-wait!” shaking your head, you push him back down into the water. “you’re still hurt a-and shouldn’t exert yourself. stay… let me say thank you and take care of the rest,” a beat of silence echoes throughout the room, katsuki unresponsive to your offer. self doubt invades the cave of your skull over your brain, perhaps stopping him had given him time to think this through and regret. perhaps he was caught up in the moment and the beast truly did not want you. you can’t tell, you haven’t been able to read him thus far. his fold demeanour being all that you know. “u-unless i misread this and have pushed past your limits. in which case i’m extremely sorry—“
steeling yourself and putting on a polite smile, you prepare for the worst — pushing yourself from bakugou’s lap in the face of silent rejection. yet, as you turn to leave, a clawed hand darts out to grip your waste and forcefully shakes water from the bathtub. the action keeps you cemented and spread over bakugou’s naked, wide lap and his expression morphs into that of kicked puppy, as though he regrets what he’s done to you already. or not responding to you sooner. 
hesitancy occupies the electrified air, dancing in a confusing concoction with the desire that once buzzed through it. 
“it’s not that i no longer want you or want this,” the blonde admits gruffly, keeping his eyes on the waves in the water and toying with a loose thread of your sodden skirts. “i haven’t been… kind to you since the start of your stay. i don’t even know if i fuckin’ deserve to have you like this,” in spite of holding back, katsuki’s lungs burn with brightly coloured lust and affection, in shades of fiery red and sunset orange. the steam taking residence in the tiled room trapping you both in the unmistakable heat of desire. “i want you. i do. but ‘m havin’ a hard time believing’ that you want the same. i don’t deserve it. i’m hideous.” 
“that’s not true,” you tell him earnestly, cradling his furry wet face between your pruning fingers in an attempt to reassure him. even though he’s at his most vulnerable, your heart flutters against your ribcage at katsuki’s honesty — the beast finally opening up to you. if that doesn’t fan the flames of your desperation for him, then nothing else will. “you’re not to me, bakugou… and if it’s my words you don’t believe, then let me show you. let me help you understand.”
silence resumes as you let your words sink in, hoping that at least one of them has touched the beast’s heart as he has done with yours. 
and all it takes is one small nod from katsuki to know that you have — forcing your way into his mouth ( with his consent ) once more, tongue twisting with the pink of his own and uncovering the taste of bloody wolf against his teeth from earlier. the kiss is even more passionate than before, the both of you letting go of your inhibitions, swapping spit while your hands slip from the fur atop his head to run over the softer parts of his body. massaging and mapping out his strong pecs and beefy arms, appreciating every inch of the blonde beast so he never doubts your yearning for him again. 
the grinding resumes too, especially as katsuki’s affection-starved body grows used to your debauched touch and hungry kisses — head hitting the very end of the bathtub with a dull thud, sending water over its edge and to your right. you both move with more vigour, the blonde becoming more comfortable in matching your pace and thrusting upwards when you buck down. oxygen evacuates your brain, making room for the inexperienced creature below you every time the heavy, solid length of his cock drags slowly over your increasingly throbbing clit hidden behind panties drenched in both water and fresh waves of arousal. 
even with his sprouting confidence and belief that you crave him as much as he does you — the beast moves too slow for your liking, leaving it up to you to take matters into your own hands. quite literally scrambling into the depths of the water to shred off your panties keeping you away from smothering  bakugou’s monsterous cock with your silken slit. 
his length bobs upright in the water, slapping against his fluffy tummy while is bright red tip breaches the surface — shiny from evidence of his arousal. the pair of you share a hungry moan at the sight, a glossy white smearing over blonde fur, katsuki hard and heavy. he’s unlike any man you’ve ever seen, ribbed entirely along his shaft with balls that hang extremely low and full of seed. despite feeling his size against you before, your mouth falls open in slight shock at the sight, instantly watering — katsuki’s dick could be mistaken for a third leg, chubby and a mushroomed at the tip. you’ve never had a partner so big before.
a tapered whimper, so quiet that you almost miss it, bubbles on the seams of bakugou’s lips as he bites them with his pointed animalistic teeth. “keep starin’ at me like that ‘n i don’t know what i’ll do.” he warns huskily, throat bobbing beneath the sandy fur at his neck. “s’been a while… and i know it’s not like the humans you’re used to. it’s…big. so i understand if you don’t want to…”
“it’s perfect.” you purr lowly and cut him off, the sound rivalling that of the beast’s, leaning forward to spit on his sore red tip as it oozes precum and lewdly rubbing your palm over his cockhead and shaft to spread the lubricating mix all over him, letting it mingle in the water. “you’re perfect. i can’t wait to take you, make it fit. i want to be the one about to make you feel good after so long.” 
a strangled howl forms deep within his chest at your admission — his extremely large body palpitating wholly as you take the entire weight of his cock into your dwarfed hand, barely able to fit all of your fingers around him. you feel for the prominent vein in the underside of his shaft, pressing down on it while your remaining fingertips toy with the sensitive ridges and bumps that decorate him. 
when you look up at bakugou the beast with beautiful, big eyes he feels like he could die here. happily. in beast form and all. he could never be human again or break his curse and he’d be content to have you looking up at him like this, with his huge  cock in your tiny hand, be the last thing the blonde ever sees. “fuck,” he snarls tip bleeding hot arousal over your knuckles and into the tub, knees shifting apart to give you more room — sending water flying out of the bath. 
you inch forward again, breathing warmly against katsuki’s damp lips as he begins to weaken beneath you with every pump of his dick. “i can’t wait to see how you feel, i’m going to get myself ready for you. is that okay?” you check with him, even though his mane is tousled about with how fast he’s nodding. whispering faint pleads against your wet Cupid’s bow. 
“please… just hurry it up,” katsuki lets his temper flare briefly, almost as hot as the water that soaks his fur and your clothes. lukewarm at best. he rambles for the most part, brainlessly even. lackadaisically rutting  into the pathetic small circle your little fist barely makes around him — the force of his hips causing water to splash up against your dress. “‘m ready for it…” he adds begrudgingly. 
the sight of the beast’s submissiveness and desperation brings a smile to your cherry bitten lips, clit throbbing and cunt quivering around the water you sit in. “i’ve got you, don’t worry…” assuring him gently, your mouth hangs open and follows the sweet howl uttered from your partner’s lips — its volume just above the explicit, wettish sounds of your hand jerking off the entirety of his shaft. even though you don’t want to, you only slightly let up on the pace of your palm smoothly gliding in and out of the water ( around katsuki ) to pull him towards your bare pussy.
his hips canter and chase your heavenly grip, fat droplets of his precum flying about the place and into the tub from just how much the beast is leaking. bakugou feels his mind sink into a hazy fog when you lift your hips to hover over his girth, the fuzziness shrouding his brain showing on his muzzle and handsome face. bliss lines his vermillion framed eyes, those same eyes that flutter shut in anticipation. waiting for you to put your honeyed pussy on him and make him yours.
katsuki can’t contain the feverish pants that escape him when you guide his clawed paws to hold your hips and help lower you onto him. the closer your heated core gets to his seedy cock, the harder it becomes to breathe and the humid he exhales starts to mingle with your own. 
both of you hiss pitifully in unison at the first tap of the blonde’s monsterous cock against your sticky, needy mound. your aching clit instantly catches on the ridges of his dick deliciously, causing you to crumple against the beast’s marshy furry chest — gripping onto locks of gold around his neck to ground yourself, bring yourself back down from an immense and otherworldly jolt of pleasure that bounces from the tail end of your spine to the top of your skull. you feel as though your brain has been knocked about, bakugou languidly thrusting upwards to drag his length through sluice, puffy folds and grind against your clit — clearly seeking the heat of your pulsating sex. 
“s-so good, katsuki,” a sheen of sweat condescends against your skin, glazing you in a pearlescent shine while you throw your hips back and forth over the blonde’s fat dick. he’s in no better state than you, talons sinking into the peachy flesh to cope with the way you move feverishly above him. sweat beads at his hairline, murderous ruby eyes growing heavy and kisses and god, you think he looks so perfect like this. when his remorseless resolve comes crashing down and he takes everything that you have to offer. “think you’re so beautiful,” 
rose pink tinges hotly at his cheeks while he shakes his head — denying your praise. ropes of saliva forming connections between his sharp white teeth and his strawberry tongue while he tosses his head back at your praise, letting out a stream of enchanting moans. katsuki’s adam’s apple bobs between small whispers of ‘fuck’ and ‘please’ punctuated by the slap of water hitting the floor from your sinfully synced bodies. he doesn’t let up on buck of his hips to meet your sodden sex, your puffy folds spread perfectly either side of the meat or his shaft — allowing your arousal pearling pleasure bud to graze his cockhead rhythmically. causing both of you to quiver in ecstasy.
“‘m not,” the beast denies, drawing his hips far back until they meet the bottom of the tub before jutting forward — his entire length slipping through your soaked pussy lips until his breeders balls tap at your hole. “g-god… think you’re gonna make me cum…g-gonna make me…fuuuck!” he chants, eyes snapping open to capture your gaze.
the tail end of his words form a soft symphony of whines and animalistic chirps, like music to your ears. “i want you to cum, you’d be so pretty cumming against me, katsuki…” you continue to taunt him, following his movement by cheekily driving your fluttering entrance down against his bulbous cockhead — trembling at its thick diameter. you still have no idea how it’ll fit. “give it to me.”
you take his massive paw in your tiny hand, hooking his claw onto the bosom of your dress with trusting eyes. the sound of wet material ripping echoes about the bathroom, the blond having torn right through the damp front of what you wear. you slump forward next, pebbled nipples brushing pleasurably over katauki’s fluffy toned chest. his fur is slick and clings to the water droplets on your glistening skin — especially with your bodies submerged under the lukewarm water. 
“you… y’don’t know what you’re askin’ for,” bakugou slurs deeply, grinding the tip of his dick against the ring of muscle at your entrance as you glaze his painfully with sweet the honey nectar dripping from your cunt. he’s so close he can practically taste it, all he needs is one little push. so you take his hand, leading him into a mistified fog of love and lust — reaching up, you drag a tender finger over the dark black horns that spiral from between roots of sun kissed blonde hair and fur, revelling in the way katsuki’s breath hitches. “d-don’t… they’re fuckin’ sensitive…”
all you do is hum in response, practically pressing your chest to the beast’s face as you learn further up and teasingly drag the length of your tongue over one scaled black appendage, taking the second horn between your wet, pruney fingers to jerk it like you would his cock. “they feel good when i touch them?” there’s a certain husk to your voice that puts the man on edge beneath you, colourful language littering his tongue, spurts of precum clinging to the insides of your folds. “what if i…?”
your hot, warm mouth encapsulates the very tip of his horn and your cheeks hollow out so that you have the room to suck him down your throat — mindful of its jagged surface. you feel so full and in all the best ways, the thickness of his horn causing a swell in your throat. his bright red tip, feverishly leaking precum, just barely bullying its way past the tight ring of your entrance, tapping against your sticky pussy even under water. you’re drooling from every hole, every place that you could possibly be fucked in and it’s all for him — willingly sucking him down… its for him.
“fuckin’ hell… sweetness, please. when ya touch me like that ‘m gonna—“ that's what makes you swallow around the beast as his sensitive horn presses against your uvula, spit pouring out against it. 
even as his eyes disappear into his dark skull at the feeling , katsuki drools over you as though you’re a prime cut of meat — a claw drifting up from the fat at your waist to the now naked and pliant mounds of flesh at your chest. he squeezes your breasts tightly in his monstrous palm, each point of each claw digging into your skin until electric dopamine crackles quickly across your synapses — dizzying your brain and ability to function. his grip is so sinfully tight that it’s enough to draw blood, crimson rose petals inking their way between the valley of your breasts and blowing on the surface of the water filling in the tub.  
you don’t stop kissing and sucking on his horn — tasting the ash between each scale, like firewood. he doesn’t stop rutting against your sex, sloshing sounds fluttering through the air. it’s your moan around him that sets the beast off, choked and spluttered; the sweet symphony guiding bakugou through the rough terrains of his high like he’d done so for you outside. static erupts over his brain and numbs all four of his limbs while a white as bright as the evening’s snowfall flashes behind hazy red eyes. his blonde head of hair drops weightily to your damp shoulder; hips stumbling against your cunt, as thick ropes of his early release hit your clit underwater.
with a prideful your lips pull off of his horn, listening happily to his washy, uneven mewls. even though he hadn’t been ready to cum just yet, it was by no means a small orgasm. katsuki’s load is heavy, still coming in hot, viscous waves as you suddenly slip down on his throbbing shaft — using the mix of water and orgasm as lube to help you with his size. “t-takin’ me all at once… still cummin’,” bakugou gasps like a fish out of water, pupils blown wide as the black in his eye eclipses the red. “you gotta be careful… ‘m big, sweetness. don’t wanna hurt you.” 
katsuki bakugou, the beast, is perfect. you know that now, whether it’s because your brain is fucked up with sex crazed hormones or because you genuinely do care for him deep down. either way, you think that he’s perfect, and you want him every way. his cock stretching your tight heat has you delirious, you think the burn of his size might even kill you as it pulses in your lower belly.  
“w-what makes you think you might hurt me?” you drawl and your sopping walls accept every inch of him with ease, reminding him of how lucky he is to have you. to be able to fuck you. it’s almost as if you’re made specifically for the beast — wandering into his castle with intention. not just for your father. 
there’ll never be another beauty like you and he’ll never be able to let you go after this. 
you ooze viscous nectar against katsuki, blossoming for him like a flower made for the coldest of winters while he presses into you — deeper and deeper. until you’re pelvis to pelvis in the warm tub. “‘cause...you’re so small compared to me, sweetness,” he explains over the lump in his throat — a growl escaping from behind his larger, menacing set of teeth. “such a fuckin’ dainty…pretty… little thing. fuck… if we do this i ain’t sure i’ll be able to hold back.”
lowering your hips and clenching hard, you lock the blonde into your heat selfishly, even though your legs are about to give out and you feel faint from taking the entirety of him in one go. “but that shouldn’t stop you from having your way with me, beast.” you murmur. “i don’t want you to hold back. you’re perfect and i want you just the way you are,” taking his paw in your palm, you draw it back to the claw marks struck lovingly against your chest — letting him feel the strong beat of your heart between your breasts. “my heart is racing, bakugou,” you croon and nuzzle your nose against his cutely, earning a light purr from the man beneath you. “i think… i think you make me feel this way.” your heart has never fluttered for someone like this before, not for yo shindou or any other man back home. you feel so small and safe with katsuki, even if he seems scary on the outside — you know that he’s tender and always means well.
that’s all the permission katsuki needs, really. hearing you tell him that you want him, even if it’s in his most carnal and instinctive way, is the same as hearing the magic word to him. with revitalised motivation, the blonde beast plants his feet against the smooth base of the tub and thrusts all the way into you with one fluid motion — hips flush against your fleshy ass and bottoming out in your weeping pussy. each movement is easily guided by his previous release, forming a foamy white ring at your entrance. he wraps a hand around the back of your head, claws massaging your scalp to soothe the cloying cries caused by the new angle as he keeps you pinned to his body.
bakugou relishes in the warmth of your syrupy walls clenching tightly around his bricked up length but manages to find strength in pulling from your selfish slicked up hole to set a slow, calculated pace to the way he bucks into you — dragging his monstrous girth along your ribbed walls and pleasure points. the utter power behind his hips quickly have water splattering over the edge of the bathtub and tear through babyish yelps escaping from between your cherry-bitten lips. the beast takes control of your body like a king or a prince with a strict rein over land. ruling over every thought once rattling around in your mind.
your shaking hands take hold of sun-kissed tooth’s of his fur, ones that muffle your little laments and whines as katsuki fucks you down on his shaft — taking you to the high heavens and back. cloud nine just within your reach. oxygen eludes you, leaving your lungs vacant and struggling to keep up with everything the beast gives you — carving a pathway for his big seedy cock against your insides with every feverish buck of his hips into yours. “feels…feels s’good!” you shriek desperately, trying your best match his rhythm. “so deep, makin’ me feel so full!”
“already? haven’t even given you a proper load yet,” bakugou chuckles between condescending moans, drunk on the way it feels when he stretches you out around him the deeper he goes, poor pussy changing to accommodate his breath-taking size and whatever love he has to give you. as a result, the beast fills you until you’re practically a glass overflowing with love and pleasure. “could plug you full with dick ‘n cum, ‘n it still wouldn’t be enough for you. would it?” 
using a free hand, the blonde drags his claws grip down to your fleshy ass and spreads your cheeks apart, growling as the webs of slick tying them together break over his fingers — dampening them just as much as the water from the bath. his grip allows him to bully himself further into your molten core, moulding you perfectly up and down on his cock. “love how you feel around me, sweetness,” the praise smooths over your brain, wiping it of any feedback you have for the blonde and all you can do is gargle passionately in ecstasy. “don’t think i deserve to… fuck a pretty girl this tight…”
you squeeze around katsuki where your words fail you, juices dripping down his length into the bath nastily until it bathes his breeders balls as they clap against the curve of your ass repeatedly — heavy and full of a second load of cum just for you. even though he pushes and smears the first against pleasure spots dotted along your velvety walls. shaking your head, face hidden in water-logged fur, “y-you’re the only one who deserves to fuck me, katsuki, have this tight pussy— oh!” the tail end of your words come out as choked, lost to the echoey bathroom and splashing water as bakugou sinks his fangs into your bare shoulder.
he bites you, not only to mark you and taste the sheen of saltine sweat on your skin, but to pacify himself — help him cope with each flutter of your wet pussy and angelic simper. a delectable pain blossoms underneath the surface of your skin, and you weave your nimble fingers into bakugou’s fur to keep him in place, letting him bite you hard enough to draw blood. wounding you just as much as he had been wounded. 
ruining the bath with more than just sweat, juices and cum.
bakugou fucks you like he loves you, like he’s been waiting thousands of years to pour locked-away affections from his soul into yours. limbs slip and slide against the walls of the tub, filling the homing air and layering over the vulnerability lying in it. you’re sure you’d see this hidden truth in his vermillion eyes if you had the strength to look up from his chest too.
“keep talkin’ to me like that, swear i’ll ruin you ‘n this pussy for everyone. myself… the next man that has you,” bakugou growls as feral as the animal he’s been turned into. even with his body pressed hotly against yours, joined at your sticky sexes while you’re chest to chest ( sensitive nipples brushing each other’s), he still can’t see how much of you he owns. neediness and yearning spark between your compressed bodies as they dance together underwater, skin slapping on skin and water spilling everywhere. “she’ll never be able t’forget the way i make her fuckin’ feel…”
“oh god, please. please—“ you feel like you’re in the verge of tears, overwhelmed by everything that is the beast. that makes up katsuki bakugou. his size and thickness drive you insane, how he feels thrusting into your gummy walls and meeting the hilt sends you up a wall. not to mention the scent of his body, his fur, permeating your skin possessively and sinking into your pores. “don’t want anyone else after you, wanna have you inside of me forever. only you inside. just so pretty when you’re fucking me, katsuki…” you admit through earnest and shaky hiccups. 
despite rambling, your words feeling tacky on your tongue like someone’s stuffed your mouth with cotton, katsuki seems to finally get the hint. he makes you feel this way, he makes you see stars, he’s the one that you want — fully and undeniably. without a care in the world for how he looks. if that were the case, you wouldn’t be letting him rapidly rock his hips into you with lewd squelching sounds emanating from your ravaged pussy. you wouldn’t bounce up and down on his aching dick to chase him with a spasming, slippery hole when he just about pulled out of you, losing control of the movements of his hips — spreading the arousal beading on his cockhead against your insides.
“f-fuck… you’re gonna be the death of me…”  
the edge of the beast’s words develop a sharp shakiness to them, a sheen of sweat painted over your bodies from both the humidity in the bathroom and the exertion of your activities. you were living for the burn his fat girth created as it pushed its way past your puckered hole every time he jutted upwards or you weakly fucked down — bakugou knew you wanted more and he’d give it to you too. 
“y-you’re prettier. especially when i’m the one fuckin’ you,” bakugou whimpers seraphically, using his strong hand on your wet ass to lift and drop you in his milky white dick — not caring about the water that got everywhere, only focusing on matching you to his length jackhammering in and out of your pathetically creamy pussy. you spasm, keeping him a prisoner in your cunt while he spews copious amounts of precum inside of you and into the tub — coaxing a fresh wave of blistering hot essence out of you. 
all of a sudden, the beast uses his brute strength to  shift your positions with his cock still nestled within you and your back splashes against the remaining water in the tub — dampening your back and the crown of your hair. katsuki doesn’t let you sink too far back into the water, instead, holding you up by the far at waist, large paw curling around it entirely. “see that? my cock bulging in your tummy. s’all me, sweetness. will only ever be me. you’re mine, all fuckin’ mine for all of time.” he whispers above you lecherously, hazy vermillion gaze floating like driftwood down to your soft stomach. your eyes follow his, breath caught in your throat at the sight,  the shape of him outlined there as he pounds into your g-spot lovingly, dotting your eyes with constellations. “hold onto me, sweetness. gonna make us cum.” 
quickly, you wrap your ankles around the smallest part of the beast’s waist — cunt unlocking and locking around the curve of his dick at random with the new position. choking the precum out of him, opaque fat drops pearling at the slit every time katsuki’s hips lunge forward powerfully. “i love you,” tears begin to brew in your glassy eyes and gather in your lashes like dew drops on a leaf, streaming down the hot apples of your cheeks as you become overwhelmed with emotion. you’re not sure if you cry because of dopamine, lust and happy hormones jolting from your brain to the tips of your toes or because of the way katsuki slots his body against yours — drowns you in everything that is him. 
either way it doesn’t matter, because you don’t know what you’d do if the beast stopped loving you like this. making love to you with every push of his cockhead against sluice walls, every swipe of his tongue over your swollen lips and every scratch of his claws against your supple body. 
“i love you,” you repeat, the taste of your orgasm rushing over the horizon as you claw desperately for something, anything to ground you. you wriggle and write underneath him, sending more water out of the tub, stomach twisted in delightful knots and only manage to steady yourself by grasping bakugou’s thick black horns above you. “i want to be yours forever…b-because you’re perfect ‘n feel so good. ‘n no one will care for me like you do…”
“‘hmyfuckingods…shit!” bakugou swoops down to lick curse words into your impassioned, temperate mouth, weakened by your warm touch around his sensitive horns and your own words mewled out like a promise to the cursed monster of a prince. watching the beast, your beast, break above you hardly soothes your wrecked insides — honeyed juices drooling down your thighs, dripping into the tub in a viscous lava flow each time he pumps into you. parting between kisses and through your wet lashes, you witness the way sweat drips from his hairline and fur, the way his dark brows are furrowed in concentration ( focused on bringing you to the top of your peak ) and how his arms flex in order to drag your pulsating pussy up to meet his thick cock — skin smacking and breath mingling in the musky air. 
his golden fur glistens under warm candle light and if you looked close enough, you could spot the twinge of pink at katsuki’s cheeks from his exertion. he’s beautiful on top of you, fucking you, that you’d be happy drown here in this bathtub if it meant he was the last thing you ever got to see. “tell me how much you want me,” bakugou snarls against your swollen lips, spouting the covetously loaded words against your strawberry tongue before he slopping kisses you again — teeth clashing with yours, incisors nipping your bottom lip until it’s bloody while he maps out the taste of sex in your mouth. 
as if to coach an answer out of you,  his knuckle slips between your connected bodies to toy with your throbbing clit — being mindful of his claws, not wanting to cause you any pain when you’re so close to reaching your high. it’s hard for you to speak when his cock slips into you like magic and attacks your throat with a bounty of love bites in purply-blues. his intensity washes over you in waves, scorching you and soothing you all at once. over all the harsh moments once shared between you.
instinctively you squeeze at his horns and search for words, but bakugou answers for you — hardly peeling away from your, damp hot skin while he pulses to life inside of you. “cause i want you. want you so fuckin’ bad that it burns me. hurts me.” snarls and pushes his creamy cock as deep and as far as it can go, practically splitting you open, spreading your thighs wide ( as wide as the tub will allow ) to make room for his wide frame and hips between them. you can just tell how much he wants you, how it tears him apart pieces you back together, by the way he grinds against you — fluffy pelvis brushing against your puffy clit. with the hope to push you over the edge. “gods… you make me wanna lose it…” 
the beast picks up a pace and a thick strand of your mixed arousals swings between your bodies where the blonde beast plugs your spasming hole, the milky liquid finding purchase on your inner thighs and the veins that spiral down his shaft. the both of you start to lose it together, water slipping and sliding everywhere as bakugou moves to sit on his haunches, all-encompassing grip on your waist lifting you from the shallow depth of the tub to keep you on his cock — pussy squelching over his swollen and red shaft. 
in response, your back bows away from the bottom of the tub until you’re chest to chest once more and your lips part with “i want you, i want you, i want you! n-no one else!” you chant loudly, the words nearly lost over the sounds of the beast passionately slamming into you over and o er again. “k-katsuki! think i’m gonna… so close—! cumming—!” 
using two knuckles, bakugou pinches your clit between them and sends you hurtling over the edge of ecstasy. that’s all it takes, him purring to you as white flashes behind your glassy eyes. you squirt hard against him, into the tub, clear liquid spurting from your ravaged sex and covering the beast’s fur in a messy layer of your release. there’s so much of it, that it nearly forces his cock from your quivering hole — but he can’t bare to be away from you, to waste his own orgasm. for the damn in the beast’s lower belly breaks as well; an earth shattering high comes crashing down on him and forces his bulking furry frame to collapse over yours — hips stuttering and water rushing out of the bath.
katsuki tucks his burning face into your neck one final time. his nostrils flare and chest heaves as he cums with an frightening roar, arms encircling your head to keep you still and pinned beneath him while katsuki unapologetically ruts into your ruined heat; dragging his bulbous cockhead deliciously against your silken walls as his seed pours into you in a large, unapologetic amount. potent and thick white floods your womb, cloying against the ribbed parts of your pussy.  so much so, that you feel your tummy bulge even as some of it runs down your slit and between your ass cheeks — into the tub below.
neither of you move, completely weak and shaky in one another’s embrace — limbs heavy from water that clings to bakugou’s fur and your skin. if you could speak and your ears were no longer ringing from your world ending high, you’d tell the beast that you love him. that you care about him. that you never want to leave him.
if his state was any better than yours, you’re sure he’d do the same.
but for now, you grasp onto his wet back and rake your hands through the masses of wet golden fur to tug bakugou, the cursed beast, closer to you. never letting him go. pulling him in to press a lasting kiss into his damp, muzzle. hoping your subtle affections will make do instead.
the end.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.
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yanderenightmare · 4 months ago
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TW: implied nsfw, implied noncon/dubcon, poly yanderes, sprained ankle, captive reader, apocolypse au, talk of fertility, murder of unnamed characters, mentions of potentially killing reader
fem reader
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Just thinking about the apocalypse, the two army men who’ve long survived it in their shelter with barely any trouble, and then you, a poor girl trying hard to outrun your last captives only to run into them.  
You didn’t realize back then that it was like trading piranhas for sharks, too caught up in begging for their aid to think better of it. You should have just kept running, but your ankle was sprained badly, maybe even broken, and you were wearing so little you would most likely have died from the cold during the night if they hadn’t taken you in.
It seems unfair of them to have kept the giant bunker all to themselves, only the two of them, but you don’t judge. You would likely have kept it all to yourself as well.
This new world has bred new humans, and they’re all monsters. It’s honestly quite surprising they’d even let you in, given this is what they’re protecting, this sanctuary from the past, a comfort most people would kill their closest friend in exchange for.
Trust is all but dead, and so is honor or any other morality—you would know, you’ve lived out there for it all, only having survived by spreading your legs at the right moments. It’s a shameful tactic, and many times, you’ve wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to spare yourself and just die. What was the purpose?
This—you think. This must be it. They have showers and working hot water.
You don’t know how it’s possible—the original owners of the shelter must have been some type of millionaire. You haven’t had a warm shower since the world went to shit—years ago. It’s been a choice of waiting for rain or finding a lake, hoping it wasn’t rancid. Meanwhile, they have soap—scented soap, the lush kind you’d forgotten existed. It feels so nice you have to cry—rejoice—sobbing while lathering yourself, watching all the filth go down the drain, leaving you smooth-skinned once again for the first time in forever. You can’t remember having ever been so clean before, feeling reborn.
They have fresh clothes for you too—new socks and underwear, all clean fabrics, so much more than what you wore—pants, a shirt, and a sweater to keep warm. You didn’t know there still existed people who lived like the old days—you’d thought it was long gone, a bittersweet dream you sometimes have the pleasure of at night instead of the usual nightmares. Never had you thought you’d experience anything even remotely similar, but here you are—looking yourself in the mirror after so long, surprised to see a human looking back at you.
And they feed you. Not scraps, not leftovers, not rot, or days-old flesh from the last successful hunt—but freshly baked bread, vegetables, fruit—for fuck’s sake, they even have juice. You cry again while eating, and then you find yourself begging them again, “Please, let me stay—please, I’ll do anything. I can cook, clean, work—anything at all, I can do it, just please let me stay…”
You’re on your knees, forehead pressed to the heated metal floors—toasty and comforting, you think you could sleep better than ever right there.
“We’ll think about it,” one of them mutters as he gathers the plates. His voice was so harsh he might as well have said, not a chance. It’s clear by his frown that he’d rather send you right out again, leave you to the monsters.
“We’ll at least let you stay until your ankle heals, so don’t worry.” The other is more sympathetic, helping you up. “For now, let’s get you to bed. You must be exhausted.”
It hadn’t crossed your mind that they’d have beds—actual real soft downy mattresses and duvets and pillows. The two of you help make it together. It feels so foreign that you wonder if you might have died earlier. Some years back, you wouldn’t have thought heaven would resemble a prison cell, but now it only made sense—safe metal walls and a bed. What more could one possibly want in the world?
“I’ll wrap your leg for you if you sit.” He holds out a bandage roll, gesturing to your ankle.
Blinking, you can’t even register what he’d just offered until he’s getting down on his knees before you.
You panic, then. Bandages are hard to come by—it hardly seems worth it. “There’s no blood, you shouldn’t waste it—”
“It’ll heal better and faster this way,” he adds reassuringly. His voice is so soft and compelling that you find yourself sitting down without further quarrel, even when it makes you feel spoiled.
He’s gentle with you—holding you steady while wrapping it just tightly enough to be supportive. There hasn’t been a man who’s touched you like it.
“Does that feel okay?”
You can barely tell he’s talking to you. It’s all so lost on you that you can only wordlessly nod your head.
He fastens it just as carefully before standing. “Is there anything else you might need?”
You shake your head just as wordlessly. You can’t believe how nice he’s being. It makes no sense at all. Not in this world. Not anymore.
“I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to lock the door,” he apologizes with a sheepish look once standing on the threshold.
You’d been stuck thinking about how warm the room was, trying to remember a single time you hadn’t been freezing during the night. “That’s okay, I understand,” you say. After all, what’s a locked door in comparison?
“Good,” he smiles—it’s likely the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. “Alright then, good night.”
Once again, you’re left stunned. The last time you’d heard those words spoken must have been from a loved one long since dead. It makes your lip wobble again as you say it back, “Good night.”
It's strange—they could have left you for dead but didn’t. They don’t seem gullible—they can’t be if they’ve managed to protect this place for so long—but you suppose there still exist men who have a soft spot in their hearts for helpless damsels in distress.
As you sink into the comfort, draping your duvet atop your battered body, you don’t even care about the camera in the ceiling—blinking red while watching you.
“Did you have to bandage her up?” he grumbles as the other walks into the bedroom after having said his goodnights to you. 
He’s already in bed, observing through the cameras on a tablet—you were currently curling into the duvet, wrapping it around you close for comfort. You’d likely not slept on anything so soft in a while—it wouldn’t surprise him if you preferred the floor. But no, you drift asleep quite quickly.
“You know how badly things can heal without proper support,” the other answers, regarding it as no big deal. “And besides, it’s not like we often need it—we have plenty to spare.”
He removes his clothes and crawls onto the bed as well, lifting the covers to slot himself right next to the other man, who still has a scowl on his face.
“Oh, come on…” he drawls. “She’s exactly what we’ve been talking about, isn’t she?”
The grump doesn’t answer, still with keen eyes watching you, even as you’ve fallen asleep—as if waiting for you to do something befitting a wild animal in a cage. The other’s eyes fall to the screen as well, but he only awes in delight.
“Look at her, already fast asleep,” he purrs while zooming in on your face. “I mean, did you see how she was begging earlier, what she said? I’d do anything,” he continues, almost whining. “So cute, I could have fucked her right then and there.”
The other man sets the tablet aside with a disagreeing sigh. “We’ll wait at least a week for her system to detoxify from the wasteland,” he says strictly. “I’m not touching her before then, and neither are you unless you want to sleep alone.”
The other groans then, flopping down on his back. “Yeah, yeah, you and your safety protocols,” he dismisses before a smirk creeps up his face, glee twinkling in his eyes as he looks up at his grouchy counterpart. “But then we keep her, right?”
“Tch—we don’t even know if she’s fertile. The wasteland could have made her barren as long as she’s been out there,” the other shuffles down into the sheets as well, turning to look at his partner and the awfully keen look on his face.
“So we test her. Give her a medical check,” he says, again as if it’s not a problem, even when it very well could turn out to be.
They’ve already broken quarantine rules by letting you in here—and who knows what your real objectives truly are.
“I don’t trust her,” he states.
The other pouts. “I don’t see what one little lady can do—she’s hardly a threat. And we already purged the group that was following her. I doubt any of them made it out alive.”
True, he had gone out and sent several gas grenades into the settlement. Surely, none of them managed to escape, but then again—
“Pest control only works when you kill them all, and we’ve just let one inside our own house,” he grumbles.
The other one sighs. “Okay, so if it turns out she isn’t as cute as she looks, we’ll deal with her like the rest. But if I’m right, and she really is just a harmless little thing, we keep her, and I get to have the first go.”
Suppose there isn’t anything better to do aside from killing you straight away, which would only have been a waste of food, water, clothes, and bandages. 
“Fine.”
The other grins at the agreeance, humming, “I guess until then, we’ll just have to make do with each other—I've been hard since we watched her shower.” He leans forward for contact but is shut down as his bedmate rolls around with his back turned to him.
“Tch—take care of it yourself.” Tonight has been too stressful to tug each other’s dicks. 
He can hear him whine behind him, but he settles down soon enough.
Suppose it would be nice fucking a woman again. It’s been so many years he figured he wouldn’t need it anymore. They’ve made do with each other so far. But even he can’t deny, once you’d washed all the blood and muck off, once he saw the dewy hue of your soft skin and the silk of your hair, all those plush curves, and not to mention that awfully sweet look on your face—he felt the tug in his pants too.
He'll do a medical check on you tomorrow. He hopes you’re fertile. But even if you’re not, he might give in to the other’s wishes and keep you anyway. After all, they might have many luxuries, but the comfort of pussy is one they haven’t had in a long, long, long time.
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♡ BNHA – KiriBaku, BakuDeku, ShinKami, DabiHawks, EndHawks, ErasurMic ♡ JJK – SatoSugu, ItaFushi, SukuIta, ♡ HQ – Miya twins, KageHina, BokuAka, ♡ CSM – AkiDen, YoshiDen ♡ BLLK – NagiReo
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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chilumi-shipper · 2 months ago
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Soulbound
Zhongli x GN!Reader (Soulmate!AU)
Summary: Zhongli hated the mark on his neck, and he hated whoever the mark bounded him to. But fate plays a cruel joke, matching him with you, as he swore he would love no one else but Guizhong.
Tags: Angst/No Comfort, Short Story, Rejection, Hurtful Words, Hatred to Love
Soulmark - A mark that binds two individuals as soulmates.
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Morax had always been frustrated by the mark on his neck.
A glowing, permanent part of his body that marks him tied to a soulmate. He thinks its stupid, for the love of his life was already in front of him, a gray-haired inventor that no carving in his body could ever stop him from adoring.
He finds it unbelievable that his neck is claimed by a soulmark yet Guizhong's remain blank, and he curses Celestia above for such a foul joke.
How could he be for anyone else but her?
When her dust settled in the field of glaze lilies he thought were incomparable to her beauty, he was utterly devasted, his clawed hands held onto his neck, wanting to rip the soulmark that had been taunting him for centuries.
How could he be marked for someone else while the love of his life laid lifeless?
He loathed his mark, everything about it, and he will till his last breath.
...
Zhongli deeply dislikes you.
You are a messy, silly, babbling buffoon.
An adventurer from Mondstadt that embodies the nation's will of freedom. Bubbly, carefree, and loud, much like a fellow god he didn't particularly like.
Despite of his disdain of you, your affection towards him never wavered. You filled his somber days with excitement as you joyfully tell him stories about your adventures, share some new recipes you've learned, even ushering him to talk about obscure Liyue historical facts that you've always found interesting.
He was much too proper to shoo you away, and his cold looks and short responses didn't discourage you to try to make friends with the man that peeked your curiosity.
Ever so slowly, you had pried open his caged heart, planting a small seed that was so distinctly you.
He would have accepted you, he would have seen you as a friend... and yet...
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a faint, familiar mark on your neck, revealed when you put your hair up into a ponytail.
Zhongli knew he truly disliked you.
...
"I don't believe in the marks either, Mr. Zhongli..." You reasoned with him, but his gaze still stung you with daggers.
He caged himself back up, ensuring that you could not care for the little seed you planted, no light would be able to reach it again.
His heart would not open...
No matter how many times he catches himself smiling at your antics.
No matter if he displays every gift and trinket you give him from your travels.
No matter how much he preferred your cooking over anyone else's.
No matter how beautiful you look staring up at him with your doe eyes as you confess your affection.
No matter how frustrated he felt at himself when he made you cry as he rejects your feelings.
Because, for him, how could there be anyone else but her?
...
"Do you see why it could never be you?"
You both stood in front of a monument, surrounded by various plants and objects you assume to be from friends of this ancient goddess.
"I bet she was amazing."
"She was perfect. Perhaps that's why I was not worthy to share a mark with her."
At this point, you were used to his words, how they praise her, how they degrade you.
"You're pretty great too, Zhongli..."
Faith places identical marks on the necks of two soulmates, and the rest is a romantic story of the passion that builds up as people pursue their marks of love.
Fate is cruel to you and him.
"That mark is not for you, Y/N." The Geo Archon says to you, tearing you apart silently, as you stand and take his words.
His heart quivers despite the harsh words coming from his own mouth. Even after millennia of having the mark engraved on his neck, after concluding that maybe he would allow your little seed to prosper even just for a bit, he still chooses to cling onto his hopeless past.
Tears fall down from your eyes, but you remain quiet, only nodding in agreement.
You loathed the mark on your neck.
...
Zhongli opens the cage of his heart a little, allowing him to peak at the small sprout from the seed you planted.
So distinctly you, it was the only thing he has of you.
After letting you leave him at Guizhong's monument with tears still staining your face, he couldn't help but miss you.
He couldn't help but let you finally take your place in his heart, after so long of hating his soulmark, hating whoever the mark tied him to, he fears he has finally accepted faith.
...
"Where is it?" He grips your arm harshly, his hold not faltering as you try to shake him off. His gaze was cold, yet you could still catch the hint of alarm in his eyes. "What have you done?"
After weeks... you return to him... missing something.
You winced at the stress of his words, feeling frightened under his tense hold. "I..." His bruising grip didn't falter, urging you to explain yourself. "S-Surprise...?"
"You..." Zhongli looks at you in disbelief. "How stupid could you be?"
"M-Mr. Zhongli... it's a blessing of the Anemo Archon... I prayed for him set us free from fate."
"Y/N... I..." He was at a loss for words, his heart ached as his eyes searched your neck in vain. "Fate... going against it is painful. It must've been excruciating."
"It was... but this if for you, Zhongli..." You smiled, feeling him loosen his grip. "Because I love... loved you." You fully free yourself from him, rubbing at where he previously held you.
The wind around him picked up, and he hears the faint whispers of an old friend along with it. Whispers of comfort, as he clearly ruined what would have been the light of the rest of his days.
Your soulmark fades, but his remains...
Zhongli loathed his mark, for it bears no meaning, no one but him bears that mark.
As you leave, trying to fade away in the background of his life, you remain under a spotlight in his eyes, for you will always be the one that shares his mark, no matter if it is visible.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
What y'all think of this one? :3
I bet y'all's feelings were hurt hehe
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amethystarachnid · 16 days ago
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BET
⤷ JAMES B. “BUCKY” BARNES
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ᯓ★ Pairing: James B. “Bucky” Barnes x fem!reader
ᯓ★ Genre: romance, angst and fluff
ᯓ★ Request from: not requested but taken from MARVEL bingo
ᯓ★ Story type: one shot
ᯓ★ Word count: 10k (damn this surprises me too)
ᯓ★ Summary: When Bucky Barnes suddenly starts talking to you you don't think much of it and when he asks you out on a date you couldn't be happier, Bucky truly is everything you could ever want in a man, a man that really loves you...At least that's what you thought until you discovered that it was real all just a bet.
ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of virginity and virginity loss, small mentions of a smut scene
ᯓ★ AU: college au
ᯓ★ Request: not requested
ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)
ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)
ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests closed)
ᯓ★ Masterlist
ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier fan click on this link!
ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language and this isn’t proof read
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The music is loud, pulsing through the walls of the frat house as Bucky sits slouched on a couch, one arm draped lazily over the back. The night is already wearing on him, but he knows he’s going to be here until Sam and Steve call it a night, which—based on the collection of red solo cups by their feet—might be a while.
They’re all trading stories from the semester, voices buzzing with that blend of laughter and cheap beer. Sam is in the middle of recounting his latest dare when he nudges Bucky’s arm, catching his attention.
“Bet you couldn’t last a month with someone like her,” Sam says, nodding toward the corner of the room.
Bucky glances up, following Sam’s gaze until he spots you. You’re perched near the bookshelf, alone and fidgeting with your drink as you flip through a book someone left behind. He’s seen you around campus before, usually with your nose buried in a novel or surrounded by a pile of textbooks. There’s something unassuming about you, something quiet and untouchable. His friends know he’s more the type to go for a party girl—someone loud, someone who doesn’t ask too many questions.
“What, the bookworm?” Bucky scoffs, raising an eyebrow. But his friends don’t let up, and soon Steve and Sam are egging him on.
“You’re always chasing the same type,” Steve chimes in. “What are you afraid of, that she’d actually challenge you?”
Bucky laughs, rolling his eyes. He knows he should shut it down, but their teasing digs at him, scratching at that competitive edge that’s always lurking just beneath his smirk.
“All right,” Bucky finally says, shrugging. “I’ll do it. One month.”
His friends exchange knowing grins, slapping him on the back. But as soon as the words leave his mouth, Bucky feels a strange knot settle low in his stomach—a feeling he’s not used to. He brushes it off. It’s just a game, a challenge. It’s not like he’s actually going to care.
The next day, you’re tucked into your usual corner in the library, surrounded by a fortress of books. You barely notice him when he walks up, leaning against the edge of the table with a casual confidence that doesn’t match the usual quiet of the space.
“Mind if I join you?” His voice is smooth, low enough that you almost have to lean in to hear him clearly.
You glance up, surprised to see Bucky Barnes standing there, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You’ve seen him around campus—he’s hard to miss with that leather jacket and effortlessly messy hair, the type of guy who always has someone laughing beside him.
“Sure,” you murmur, unsure of what else to say as you move your books aside, offering him a seat. You’re used to people mostly ignoring you here. It’s your refuge, your sanctuary. So when he sits across from you, stretching out as if he belongs there, it feels jarringly out of place.
“You look like you’re buried in work,” he observes, nodding at the mountain of papers in front of you. “What’s got you so busy?”
You hesitate, but something in his easygoing manner convinces you to answer. “Just…assignments. Trying to keep up with everything.” You give him a small smile, your guard still up but feeling oddly curious.
“What’s your major?” he asks, and the question catches you off guard. Most people don’t bother to ask; they assume or don’t care enough to wonder. He listens as you talk about your studies, nodding, asking small questions. Before you know it, you’re telling him more than you intended, falling into an easy rhythm that surprises you.
It becomes a pattern. Over the next few weeks, he finds reasons to run into you—at the coffee shop, in the library, even in the quad between classes. Each time, he stays a little longer, asks a little more, his eyes holding yours with that subtle intensity he wears so well. At first, you’re wary, cautious of his attention. But Bucky is good, easing his way in like he has all the time in the world, his jokes and questions slowly weaving a thread of trust between you two.
And Bucky? He’s surprised at how much he finds himself drawn to you. Each time you laugh, he catches himself watching, feeling something strange and warm unfurl in his chest. There’s a gentleness in you, a quiet intelligence, that keeps him coming back even as he reminds himself this isn’t supposed to mean anything.
But the longer he spends time with you, the more he feels the weight of what he agreed to, creeping up on him every time he catches your smile, every time you look at him like he’s someone worth knowing.
He tells himself it’s just part of the bet. But deep down, he knows he’s starting to cross a line he never meant to touch.
It’s been a few weeks since Bucky started spending time with you, and against every reminder he gives himself, he’s found himself looking forward to it more than he wants to admit. He tells himself it’s harmless—he’s just getting to know you, just finding ways to pass the time. But he knows he’s lying, especially when he starts finding excuses to see you outside of the library or when he catches himself glancing at his phone, hoping for a text from you.
One night, back at the frat house, he’s lounging with Sam and Steve again, half-listening to their conversation when Sam nudges him.
“So, Barnes. How’s it going with the bookworm?” Sam asks with a knowing smirk. Bucky rolls his eyes, trying to brush it off, but Sam isn’t so easily deterred. “Don’t tell me you’re catching feelings.”
Bucky scoffs, forcing a laugh to keep the truth buried. “It’s going fine. Like I said, a month’s no problem.”
Sam exchanges a glance with Steve, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Let’s make this interesting then. If you really want to win this thing, you’ve got to take it further.”
Bucky’s jaw clenches. “Further?” He has a bad feeling about where this is going.
Steve raises his eyebrows. “Come on, Buck. You’ve been hanging out with her, sure, but we’re talking about actually making her fall for you. Ask her out, and, you know—” He raises an eyebrow meaningfully.
“Sleep with her,” Sam adds bluntly, laughing. “Seal the deal, and there’s two hundred bucks in it for you.”
Bucky hesitates, that uncomfortable knot tightening in his stomach again. He tells himself it’s just a stupid bet. He’s done things like this before—gotten close to people just to prove he could, had plenty of meaningless hookups that never meant a thing. He’s Bucky Barnes, the guy who doesn’t do commitment or complications. But for some reason, picturing it with you makes him feel…off.
“Fine,” he says after a beat, his voice steady, betraying nothing of the uncertainty he’s trying to ignore. “Two hundred bucks. Done.”
The next day, he texts you, his fingers hovering over the keys a little too long before he finally sends, Hey, you free Friday? Let me take you out somewhere nice.
When you see his message, your heart skips a beat. It’s been a while since anyone has asked you on an actual date, and even longer since you’ve felt genuinely excited about someone. Bucky’s been different from the start—warm, attentive, and surprisingly easy to talk to. You’ve caught yourself looking forward to his company, replaying the moments he laughs at one of your jokes or leans in close enough for you to catch a hint of his cologne.
After a second, you type back, Yeah, I’d love to! You add a smiley face, feeling almost giddy as you press send.
The days leading up to Friday drag by, each one marked with bursts of nerves and anticipation. You spend a little more time getting ready than usual, finally deciding on a simple but pretty dress that makes you feel confident. When Bucky picks you up, his usual leather jacket replaced with a dark button-up, you feel a thrill of excitement. He looks genuinely happy to see you, his eyes scanning over you appreciatively as he gives you a lopsided grin.
“You look amazing,” he says, his gaze warm. There’s something softer in his eyes, something that makes you blush.
“Thanks,” you mumble, smiling as you walk beside him. He leads you to a small Italian place tucked away from campus, the kind of cozy, dimly lit restaurant you wouldn’t have expected him to know about. The conversation flows easily between you two, laughter spilling out as you talk about classes, hometowns, and childhood memories.
The night feels magical, almost surreal, and you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, there’s something real here. Every time his hand brushes against yours, a spark shoots up your spine. And when he reaches across the table, fingers lightly grazing your wrist as he laughs at something you said, your heart flutters in a way that’s both thrilling and terrifying.
After dinner, he suggests taking a walk, and soon you’re strolling through the quiet streets, the chill of the night air making you shiver just slightly. Without a word, Bucky slips his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. It feels so natural, like you belong there.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been on a date this nice,” you admit, smiling up at him, your voice soft.
He chuckles, though it sounds slightly strained. “Really? I find that hard to believe.”
You shrug, trying to brush it off. “I guess I’ve just never…met anyone like you before.”
There’s a flash of something in his eyes—guilt, maybe, or regret. But it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced with that charming grin. He steps closer, his arm slipping from your shoulders, and you hold your breath as he cups your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.
“You’re pretty amazing, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice low.
You feel like the world has stopped, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the moment you’ve been dreaming of, the moment where everything finally falls into place.
But for Bucky, something sharp and painful twists inside him. He can feel the weight of what he’s doing pressing down on him, can see the way your eyes look at him with such unguarded trust, and it’s enough to make his stomach turn. He’s never felt guilty over a stupid bet before, but right now, the idea of hurting you feels unbearable.
“Hey,” he says softly, his hand still on your cheek. “You trust me, right?”
Your eyes widen, and you nod slowly, too caught up in the moment to notice the tension in his gaze. “Yeah,” you whisper, a small smile forming on your lips.
He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours as he takes a steadying breath. “Good,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. Because if he’s going to go through with this, he tells himself he has to believe that none of it matters—that he won’t let himself care. But even as he kisses you, his lips soft and warm against yours, he knows he’s lying to himself.
The days after that first date drift into a series of moments that feel surreal, almost like they’re happening to someone else. You find yourself checking your phone at odd times, waiting for his texts, smiling down at your screen whenever his name lights up. Bucky is a part of your routine now, and it feels strange, thrilling even, like there’s this magnetic force that draws you to him despite every bit of caution you try to hold onto.
Every time you’re with him, the outside world fades. He makes you laugh with stories about his friends, leaning in close, his voice warm and low as if he’s sharing some secret just for you. You catch yourself stealing glances when he’s not looking—at the way his jaw clenches when he’s lost in thought or how his eyes soften when he looks at you, a mix of curiosity and something you can’t quite name.
It’s after one of your study sessions at the library that Bucky invites you over to his dorm room for the first time. He tells you he’s got some old movies you’ve probably never seen, and, honestly, he’s right—you’d never pictured Bucky as the type to own black-and-white classics, but that’s exactly what he has, a surprisingly large collection lined up on a low shelf near his TV. He insists you pick one, and soon you’re sitting side by side on his couch, your legs tucked up beneath you, feeling almost shy in the soft glow of the screen.
The movie starts, but his arm stretches along the back of the couch, barely brushing your shoulders. The faintest touch sends electricity through you, but you stay quiet, not wanting to ruin the moment. Then, halfway through the movie, he shifts, glancing at you.
“You can get closer, you know,” he murmurs, his eyes glinting with something mischievous yet gentle.
Your heart flutters as you scoot closer, until you’re tucked into his side, his arm draped around you in a way that feels possessive yet comforting. He smells faintly like cedar and something distinctly him, a scent that’s becoming familiar. Before you know it, your head is resting on his shoulder, his hand absently tracing patterns on your arm, and you feel like you could stay there forever.
Time slips by in a collection of small, perfect moments. There are more dates—little coffee shops tucked away from campus, a bookstore where he buys you a copy of a novel you mentioned in passing, a late-night diner where you both end up after laughing so hard that you can’t breathe. You never expected him to be so attentive, so eager to listen to your stories and learn every detail about your life. He even surprises you with your favorite snack on study nights, tossing it to you with a grin before leaning in close to steal a bite for himself.
One evening, after a long day of classes and a surprise text from Bucky inviting you over, you find yourself curled up on his couch once again. This time, he’s stretched out beside you, one arm tucked under his head while the other rests around your shoulders. His fingers brush against your arm absently, and you can’t help but notice how natural this feels. It’s terrifying, too, the way he seems to melt into your life so effortlessly, as if he’s always been there.
You glance up at him, catching him mid-laugh as he recounts an embarrassing story about Sam, who apparently tried to show off on a skateboard and ended up with a sprained ankle.
“You’re terrible,” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder, though you’re laughing too.
“Oh, come on. It was hilarious,” he insists, grinning down at you. He tilts his head, his gaze dropping to your lips for just a second, and your laughter fades as something shifts between you.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask softly, your voice barely more than a whisper.
He shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching in a faint smile. “I just…can’t believe you’re real sometimes.”
The words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you’re too stunned to reply. But then he leans down, his lips brushing yours with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. The kiss deepens slowly, each touch feeling like a promise, and you lose yourself in the warmth of his embrace, forgetting every doubt, every insecurity that ever kept you guarded.
As the weeks pass, you find yourself falling harder than you ever expected. Bucky seems to find every crack in your armor, every scar and hidden fear, and instead of pulling away, he draws closer, listening to your stories and letting you into his own in ways that leave you breathless. He’s there to listen on your tough days, wrapping his arms around you and murmuring words of reassurance. He’s there on your good days, too, laughing with you, pressing kisses to your forehead as if he can’t believe his luck.
One night, you’re back on his couch, cuddled up under a thick blanket as a storm rages outside, the rain tapping against the windows. You’re nestled against him, his arm holding you close, and he’s quiet, his fingers tracing patterns along your shoulder absentmindedly.
“Bucky?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Hmm?” he murmurs, his gaze dropping to yours, his eyes soft and warm in the dim light.
“Thank you,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “For everything.”
He frowns slightly, shifting so he can look at you fully. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” he says, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Being with you…it’s the easiest thing in the world.”
You smile, warmth spreading through your chest, and he kisses you again, slow and soft, like he’s savoring every second. It’s moments like this that make you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re finally safe with someone, that this is something real.
But for Bucky, each moment with you is a double-edged sword. He’s never felt this way before—this calm, this…connected. Every time you laugh at one of his jokes or lean against him, trusting and unguarded, he feels that awful twist of guilt, the memory of that stupid bet lurking in the back of his mind.
He’s supposed to ask for more. That’s what Sam and Steve were expecting, weren’t they? They wanted him to win the bet, to seal the deal and prove he could pull this off. But every time he thinks about going further, about pushing this relationship into a place where he can’t turn back, he feels that nagging ache, that quiet, gnawing feeling that he’s crossing a line he can’t uncross.
He knows he needs to tell you. He needs to come clean, but every time he opens his mouth, the words get stuck in his throat. You look at him with those bright, trusting eyes, and he can’t bring himself to shatter the way you see him. So he holds his silence, hoping that somehow, he can bury the truth forever, that maybe you’ll never have to know.
One evening, as you’re lying together on his couch, you let out a contented sigh, resting your head on his chest as his hand traces lazy patterns along your back.
“Bucky?” you whisper, your voice soft.
He glances down at you, his fingers pausing as he meets your gaze. “Yeah?”
You hesitate, then take a steadying breath. “I…I think I’m falling for you.”
The words hang in the air, vulnerable and open, and for a second, his face goes still, his eyes widening just slightly. Then, his expression softens, and he tightens his arms around you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.
“You have no idea how much that means to me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. But as he kisses you, the warmth of his touch hiding the flicker of guilt behind his eyes, a single thought haunts him.
She deserves the truth.
That night, Bucky barely sleeps, lying awake with the knowledge that he’s in far too deep to ever come out of this unscathed. Every soft breath you take beside him reminds him of how much he’s risking by staying silent. He knows he has to tell you, but he’s terrified—terrified that this fragile, beautiful thing you’ve built together will shatter, that you’ll look at him with betrayal instead of trust.
In the morning, he makes a decision. He’ll find a way to tell you, he promises himself, but he wants one more day, one more memory before he risks everything. Just one last perfect day where he can pretend that none of it was ever a lie.
So he takes you out, leading you down to the pier just as the sun begins to set, casting the sky in hues of pink and gold. You laugh, leaning into him, and he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, watching the waves lap against the shore.
“Yeah,” he replies, his voice soft. “It is.”
But as he stands there, holding you close, he knows that the beauty of this moment is fleeting, that the truth waiting in his chest is too big to ignore. And tonight, when he finally gathers the courage to tell you, he knows there’s a chance he’ll lose you forever. But for now, he lets himself savor this last quiet moment, memorizing the feeling of you in his arms, the warmth of your laughter as it fills the air.
For now, he holds onto the hope that maybe, somehow, you’ll understand.
The sunset fades, leaving the world painted in muted purples and blues, but neither of you seem ready to break away from each other. Bucky holds you close, feeling the steady rhythm of your breath against his chest as if it’s his own. He knows he should say something—that he needs to say something—but the words seem so impossible now, tangled up in his chest. The truth would ruin this moment, shatter whatever he’s built with you. And so, he tells himself it can wait just a little longer.
As the evening slips into night, Bucky leads you back to his dorm room, his hand intertwined with yours. You can feel the heat of his palm, the way his fingers wrap around yours as if he never wants to let go. The air feels charged, every touch electric, each shared glance simmering with something that feels fragile and exhilarating. Neither of you says much, as though speaking would break the quiet spell between you.
Once you’re inside, Bucky hesitates. He turns to you, his expression vulnerable, softer than you’ve ever seen it. "You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand.
“I want to,” you say, the words escaping before you can even think. There’s no hesitation in your voice, only a gentle certainty that makes his chest tighten. The way you look at him, so open and trusting, makes his heart ache with a mix of guilt and longing.
Bucky’s eyes search yours, lingering for a moment that stretches into forever. He reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before his fingers trail down to your jaw, cradling your face as if you’re something fragile and precious. Slowly, he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s softer than any before. It’s unhurried, tender, as if he’s savoring every second.
The kiss deepens, and you can feel yourself melting into him, your heart pounding so hard you think it might burst. His hands move to your waist, steady and grounding, and he pulls you closer until there’s no space left between you. You can feel the strength of him, the warmth radiating through his clothes, and it makes your head spin.
Before long, you find yourselves tangled together on his bed, the world outside fading into nothingness. Each kiss is deeper than the last, each touch laced with a longing neither of you can deny. There’s a gentleness to Bucky’s movements, a quiet patience as he explores the curve of your shoulder, the softness of your waist, as if he’s memorizing every inch of you. He’s slow and careful, constantly looking at you as if to make sure this is what you want.
“Are you okay?” he whispers, his voice rough with barely-contained emotion.
You nod, feeling breathless but certain. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
His eyes darken, filled with a tenderness that makes your chest ache, and then he’s kissing you again, deeper this time, his hands skimming over your skin with a reverence that leaves you feeling cherished. You lose track of time, surrendering to the way he makes you feel—safe, wanted, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.
When you finally fall back against the bed, your bodies wrapped around each other, you’re exhausted yet filled with a warmth that feels all-encompassing. The reality of what just happened settles in, but instead of feeling nervous, you feel at peace, secure in the quiet intimacy that has grown between you.
Bucky shifts beside you, pulling you closer until your head rests against his chest, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders. The steady thump of his heartbeat lulls you into a peaceful daze, and you feel his fingers trace small circles on your back, soothing and grounding.
You’re both quiet for a long time, the silence comfortable as you bask in each other’s presence. Eventually, though, you feel a need to tell him something you’ve been holding back, something you hadn’t planned on revealing but that feels right to share in this moment.
“Bucky,” you begin softly, lifting your head to look at him. He gazes down at you, his eyes warm and attentive, as if you’re the only thing he sees. “I…I want you to know that this was my first time.”
The words hang in the air, and for a moment, you’re afraid he’ll pull away, that he’ll think you were too inexperienced or that you should have told him sooner. But he doesn’t flinch or hesitate. His hand moves up to gently cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin.
“Your first?” he echoes, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and something that sounds almost like reverence.
You nod, feeling your cheeks heat as you look down, suddenly self-conscious. “Yeah…I wanted it to be with someone who made me feel safe. Someone I trusted.”
Bucky’s chest rises and falls slowly as he takes this in, his expression softening. He seems almost humbled, like he’s just been given something rare and delicate. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting his own against yours.
“You have no idea how much that means to me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. There’s a vulnerability in his gaze, as if he’s holding back a hundred things he wants to say but can’t find the words for.
You smile, the last traces of your nervousness melting away. “Thank you, Bucky…for making it so special.”
He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you like he’s afraid to let you go. “I’d do anything to make you feel special,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.
You nestle into his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling safe and cherished in a way you never have before. And as you lie there, drifting between sleep and wakefulness, you wonder if this is what it feels like to be truly, deeply in love.
But as you fall asleep in his arms, Bucky lies awake, his heart heavy with the weight of everything he’s kept from you. He knows he should be content, that he should just let himself savor this night and the closeness you’ve shared. But the memory of that stupid, careless bet gnaws at him, a dark cloud looming over everything.
He runs a hand through his hair, staring up at the ceiling, feeling torn between the desire to protect you from the truth and the fear that he’s already crossed a line he can’t uncross. The realization that you trusted him enough to give him something so deeply personal makes the weight of his lie even heavier, almost unbearable. He swallows hard, tightening his hold on you as he resolves to tell you the truth—soon, somehow, even if it means risking everything.
But tonight, he lets himself stay silent. He closes his eyes, breathing in the scent of your hair, the warmth of your body against his, and allows himself to believe, if only for a moment, that this can last.
The morning sunlight filters softly through the blinds, casting warm, golden patterns across the bed. You stir beside him, your movements gentle as you wake up, and Bucky watches you with a quiet awe, his heart racing as he takes in the peaceful expression on your face. For a moment, it feels like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.
You blink up at him, your face lighting up with a sleepy smile that makes his chest tighten.
“Good morning,” you murmur, your voice soft and a little shy, as if the night is still too fresh, too beautiful to fully believe.
He grins, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Morning,” he replies, his voice low and warm. His fingers trail down to your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, and you squeeze back, a shared moment of silent understanding passing between you.
The morning stretches on in a gentle haze of quiet touches and soft words. Bucky makes you coffee, insisting you stay curled up under his blanket while he brings it over to you, and you laugh, watching him with a mix of affection and disbelief. This side of him—the playful, thoughtful side—is something you never expected to see, and it makes you fall for him even harder.
You’re both lounging on his bed, your legs tangled together, talking in low voices about everything and nothing. He tells you stories about his childhood, tales about him and Steve getting into trouble, and you share your own memories, laughing as he reacts with wide eyes and exaggerated shock.
It feels so real, so natural, that you almost forget about everything outside this room, about the possibility that this could be something fleeting. You feel like you’ve found a place that’s safe, a person who makes you feel more like yourself than you ever have before.
But in the quiet moments, when you catch him staring at you with that far-off look, you wonder if there’s something he’s not telling you, a hesitation lurking behind his gaze. You don’t press, not wanting to shatter the peace between you. But part of you wonders if you’re seeing a glimpse of something deeper, something you’re not yet ready to confront.
As you leave his dorm room later that morning, he kisses you softly, lingering as if he’s trying to memorize the taste of your lips, the feel of your hand in his. There’s an unspoken promise in his touch, a silent assurance that this isn’t the end.
Later that afternoon, you make your way back to the frat house, humming softly as you climb the steps to Bucky's door. You left your notebook there, a little blue book you’re pretty sure you’ll need for your upcoming assignment. You barely slept last night, too caught up in the warmth of his touch, the memory of his whispered words that lingered long after you left his dorm this morning. You’re nervous, too; you feel so much for him that it scares you.
As you approach his room, laughter drifts out into the hallway, low voices filtering through the partially open door. You recognize Bucky’s laugh, the familiar sound stirring warmth in your chest, but the laughter feels different, carefree and loud. And then you hear a familiar voice—Sam’s—cutting through, low and joking.
"Guess she fell for it pretty hard, huh?" Sam’s voice sounds amused, lighthearted, as if he’s talking about something trivial.
You freeze, your hand hovering inches from the door. Something about his tone makes you hesitate, a strange, unsettling feeling creeping into your chest.
"Come on, Bucky," Sam presses, “don’t act all innocent now. I saw you this morning, looking like you just won the lottery.” You can hear the grin in his voice, a laugh bubbling beneath it. “So? How was it?”
Bucky laughs, the sound uncomfortable, but he doesn’t argue. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, his voice casual, light. “It was… good.”
You feel a stab in your chest, a faint panic that tells you to leave, to walk away before you hear any more. But your feet don’t move, and you find yourself listening, every word driving another splinter into your heart.
Steve’s voice joins in, chuckling. “Well, you earned it, man. She had no clue, huh?”
“No clue,” Bucky murmurs, his voice softer now, almost unreadable. You can picture him there, maybe rubbing the back of his neck the way he does when he’s nervous. But the words are there, undeniable.
Sam laughs again, louder this time. “And hey, bet’s a bet,” he says, and then there’s a pause before you hear the unmistakable rustling of bills being exchanged. “Two hundred dollars, as promised. Can’t say you didn’t earn it, though—you even managed to get her into bed. Didn’t think you had it in you, but here we are!”
Your vision blurs, the words echoing in your mind, distorting into something raw and jagged. Every affectionate touch, every gentle kiss, every whispered promise from the past few weeks twists into something ugly, something unrecognizable. You feel sick, the image of Bucky’s earnest smile, his soft words about wanting to make you feel special, tainted beyond repair. Everything you felt for him, the trust you’d handed him so freely, crumbles beneath the weight of their laughter.
Slowly, you turn and leave, gripping the strap of your bag tightly as you make your way out of the frat house. You don’t let yourself cry, not yet, not when you still feel the echo of his betrayal throbbing in your chest, too raw, too painful to acknowledge fully.
Hours later, you’re back in your dorm room, your heart aching as you sit in silence, the truth settling over you in waves. Part of you wants to believe it was a misunderstanding, that maybe there’s an explanation you’re missing. But the memory of their laughter, the casual way Sam handed him that money, makes the truth impossible to ignore.
A knock on your door interrupts your thoughts, and your heart skips a beat as you hear Bucky’s voice calling your name softly from the hallway. It’s just him now, his voice hesitant, almost as if he senses that something’s wrong. You take a steadying breath, steeling yourself before you answer the door.
When you open it, Bucky’s eyes light up, and he steps forward, a soft smile on his face as he reaches for your hand. “Hey, you,” he murmurs, his voice warm. But when he sees the look on your face, he pauses, his smile fading. “What’s wrong?”
For a moment, you can’t bring yourself to speak. You can only look at him, trying to reconcile the gentle, caring person you thought you knew with the man who took a bet to seduce you. You pull your hand away from his, ignoring the confusion in his gaze as he watches you.
“Were you even going to tell me?” Your voice comes out quieter than you intended, a dull ache threading through every word. “Or were you just going to take the money and pretend it never happened?”
Bucky blinks, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Tell you what? I—I don’t understand.”
A bitter laugh escapes your lips, and you look away, wrapping your arms around yourself as if it’ll keep you from falling apart. “Don’t play dumb, Bucky. I heard you. I was at the frat house earlier, and I heard everything.”
He freezes, his face going pale, and you see the truth in his eyes, clear as day. He opens his mouth, stumbling over his words. “Y/N, I—I didn’t… I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”
The admission twists the knife deeper, and you feel yourself trembling as you look back at him, tears stinging your eyes. “So, it’s true, then? All of it? This whole… this whole thing was just for some stupid bet?”
He reaches for you, his expression desperate, his hands hovering just inches from your arms. “Y/N, please. Just let me explain. It wasn’t like that, I swear. It started that way, but then… then it became real. I fell for you, okay? Everything we did, everything we shared—it was real.”
You shake your head, pulling away from him, the anger and betrayal simmering beneath the surface. “Real? You think that makes this okay? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Your voice breaks, and a tear slips down your cheek before you can stop it. “I trusted you, Bucky. I thought… I thought you cared about me.”
His face crumples, and he takes a step closer, his hand reaching out as if to wipe away the tear on your cheek. “I do care about you. More than anything, Y/N. That’s why I wanted to tell you, I just—”
“Wanted to tell me?” you interrupt, your voice shaking. “When, Bucky? After you cashed in your winnings? After I found out on my own?”
The silence stretches between you, heavy and unbearable, and Bucky’s shoulders sag as he looks away, guilt etched deeply into his face.
“Do you even realize how humiliating this is?” you continue, your voice a mixture of anger and heartbreak. “I trusted you with something… something I’d never given anyone. And the whole time, it was just part of a game to you.”
His eyes snap back to yours, filled with anguish, his voice barely a whisper. “It was never just a game, not after the first night. I swear, Y/N, I was going to tell you everything. I just… I didn’t want to lose you.”
“You didn’t want to lose me?” you repeat, laughing bitterly. “You lost me the moment you made that bet. You had no right to… to play with me like that, to make me believe that any of it was real.”
He looks at you, his blue eyes full of desperation, his voice breaking. “Y/N, please. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you, but I need you to believe me when I say I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“Just stop,” you whisper, the weight of it all crashing over you. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to make me feel sorry for you when you’re the one who lied.”
Bucky’s face falls, and he drops his gaze, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I know. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But please, just… give me a chance to make it right.”
Your heart aches, torn between the memories of every gentle touch, every whispered word, and the undeniable truth of his betrayal. Part of you wants to believe him, wants to believe that somewhere in all of this, there was something real. But the pain is too deep, the wound too fresh, and you don’t know if you can ever look at him the same way again.
“I can’t do this,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I can’t just forget what you did. You hurt me, Bucky. And right now, I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
He flinches, as if your words physically hurt him, and he nods slowly, a look of resignation in his eyes. “I understand. I’ll… I’ll leave, if that’s what you want.”
You nod, wrapping your arms around yourself as he takes a step back, his gaze lingering on you one last time before he turns and walks toward the door. Just as he reaches it, he pauses, his hand resting on the doorknob as he glances back at you, his voice soft, broken.
“For what it’s worth, Y/N… I love you. I know I don’t deserve to say that, but it’s the truth.”
You don’t reply, staring at him with tear-filled eyes as he finally steps out of your dorm, the door closing softly behind him. The silence that follows is deafening, and you sink to the floor, the weight of everything crashing down as you realize that the person you thought you loved never truly existed.
The days blur together in a haze of heartbreak and emptiness. You go through the motions, attending classes, completing assignments, and showing up to study groups, but it all feels mechanical, like you’re on autopilot. It’s as if something inside you has shut down, leaving only an echo of who you were before you met him, before he became the center of your world.
It doesn’t take long for your friends to notice the change. They ask if you’re okay, if something happened, if maybe you just need a break. But you give them the same answer each time—a nod, a small smile, and an assurance that you’re just tired. It’s easier than explaining the mess of emotions tangled inside you, the hurt that seems too big to fit into words.
Late at night, lying alone in your dorm room, you can still feel the warmth of his arms around you, the softness of his voice in the quiet hours when he’d whisper promises you thought would last forever. The memory feels cruel now, tainted by the knowledge that it was all built on a lie. And yet, despite everything, you miss him. You hate yourself for it, but you miss the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel safe, special, as if you were the only person in the world who mattered.
Bucky isn’t doing any better. In fact, he’s a mess. Days have passed, but the guilt, the emptiness—it lingers, gnawing at him, refusing to let him move on. He can barely sleep, haunted by the look in your eyes, the betrayal, the hurt he put there. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees you, hears the way your voice cracked when you told him you didn’t know who he was anymore. And the worst part is, he doesn’t blame you. He knows he did this, that he ruined everything, and now he has to live with the consequences.
Sam and Steve notice almost immediately. Bucky, the confident, charming guy they’d known for years, looks hollow, as if he’s carrying a weight he can’t shake. He barely speaks, keeps to himself, and they rarely see him at the frat house anymore. Instead, he spends most of his time shut up in his dorm, a shadow of the person he used to be.
One evening, as the sun dips below the horizon, Sam and Steve exchange a glance, silently agreeing that they need to intervene. They knock on his door, and when he doesn’t answer, Sam pushes it open, finding him lying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
“Hey, man,” Sam says, stepping inside. Steve follows, closing the door behind them as they both approach Bucky’s bed.
Bucky doesn’t react right away, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling. But eventually, he sits up, running a hand through his hair, looking exhausted and defeated.
“What’s up, guys?” he mumbles, though his voice lacks any real curiosity.
“We should be asking you that,” Steve says, his tone softer than usual. “You haven’t been yourself lately. Ever since things ended with Y/N, it’s like… you’re a completely different person.”
At the sound of your name, Bucky’s face falls, and he lets out a long, shaky breath. “Yeah,” he says quietly, almost to himself. “That’s because I am.”
Sam frowns, studying Bucky’s expression, the guilt etched into every line of his face. “Look, man, we didn’t mean for things to get this serious. But if you cared about her, really cared… why didn’t you just tell her the truth from the start?”
Bucky shakes his head, his hands gripping the edge of the bed so tightly his knuckles turn white. “I don’t know,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I was scared, I guess. I knew I’d screwed up, and every time I tried to tell her, I just… couldn’t. I thought I could fix things, somehow, make it up to her without her ever finding out.” He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Stupid, right?”
Steve sighs, sitting beside him on the bed. “Not stupid, just… a mistake. A big one, yeah, but you’re not the first guy to mess up. You’re just… Bucky, this isn’t like you. I’ve never seen you like this over anyone before.”
Bucky looks away, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s because I’ve never felt this way before. Not like this. I love her, Steve. And I threw it all away over some stupid bet that meant nothing. I hurt her in ways I can’t even fix.”
Sam places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “So what are you gonna do about it? You can’t just sit here, wallowing. If she meant that much to you, then maybe you owe it to her—and to yourself—to try and make it right.”
Bucky laughs, but it’s empty, hollow. “And how am I supposed to do that, Sam? She told me herself she doesn’t know who I am. She doesn’t trust me. I don’t deserve another chance.”
Steve exchanges a look with Sam, and then he says, “Maybe. But you can’t just give up without trying. If you really love her, Bucky, you have to prove it. Show her that you’re not just the guy who hurt her, that you’re willing to fight for her. And if she doesn’t take you back… at least you’ll know you tried.”
Bucky sighs, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stares at the floor. “I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me. I don’t even know if I deserve it.”
Sam crosses his arms, his expression softening. “Look, man, I get that you’re hurting. But don’t you think she’s hurting, too? She’s probably out there feeling just as broken, wondering if anything between you was ever real.”
Bucky swallows hard, his chest tightening at the thought. He knows you’re hurting, knows you trusted him with something precious, something he didn’t deserve. And knowing that he’s the reason for your pain… it’s a feeling he wouldn’t wish on anyone.
Over the next few days, Bucky wrestles with himself, caught between the fear of making things worse and the desire to show you that he’s truly sorry, that he wants to be the man you thought he was. He writes and rewrites texts he never sends, shows up outside your dorm but never works up the courage to knock. He’s terrified, but he can’t ignore the way his heart aches for you, the empty, gnawing feeling that only seems to grow with each passing day.
Finally, he decides to try one last time. He doesn’t know if you’ll listen, doesn’t know if you’ll even give him a chance. But he has to try—to give you the truth, no matter how painful it might be.
And so, as the evening sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over campus, Bucky finds himself standing outside your dorm, his heart pounding as he gathers the courage to knock. He knows this is his last chance, that this is the moment that will decide everything. And he only hopes, as he takes a deep breath and raises his hand to the door, that you’ll give him the chance to show you that he’s not the man who hurt you—that he’s ready to fight for you, no matter what it takes.
The knock on your door is soft, almost hesitant, but it’s enough to pull you from your thoughts. You’ve been lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to find the strength to move forward, to somehow patch yourself up after everything that happened. When you open the door, you see him standing there, his eyes filled with an uncertainty that’s almost heartbreaking. He’s gripping a small notebook in his hands—your notebook, the one you left in his room—and his gaze is fixed on you with a desperation you’ve never seen before.
“Hi,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
You don’t reply right away, the sight of him dredging up the familiar ache in your chest. Part of you wants to slam the door and hide, to keep yourself safe from any more hurt. But you don’t. Instead, you meet his gaze, forcing yourself to remain steady.
“Hi,” you reply, your voice guarded.
He shifts on his feet, glancing down at the notebook before offering it to you. “I, uh… you left this. Thought you might need it.”
You take it from him, feeling the familiar weight of it in your hands. “Thanks.”
A heavy silence hangs between you, one that neither of you seems willing to break. Bucky swallows, his face creased with an anxious, uncertain look that makes him seem vulnerable in a way you’ve never seen before.
“Can we… can we talk?” he asks, his voice almost pleading. “Please. I know I don’t deserve it, but I just need to say a few things. If you don’t want to listen, I’ll understand, and I’ll leave you alone. I just… I need you to know the truth.”
You hesitate, but finally, you nod, stepping back to let him into your room. He steps inside, closing the door softly behind him, and takes a seat in the small chair by your desk while you remain standing, arms crossed protectively over your chest.
For a moment, he just looks at you, his gaze heavy with regret. Then he sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“I know you have every right to hate me,” he starts, his voice barely steady. “I know I messed up in ways I can’t even fix. And I know… I know what I did was horrible. I just—” He swallows, his throat tight. “I just need you to know that it wasn’t all a lie. When we started this… when we first got close, I didn’t expect any of this to happen. I didn’t think I’d feel the way I did.”
You look down, his words stirring a fresh wave of pain in your chest. “But it was a bet, Bucky,” you murmur, your voice trembling. “You… you did all of that just to win some money. To you, it was just a game.”
He flinches, guilt flashing in his eyes, and he nods. “I know. I won’t make excuses for it—I was stupid, and I hurt you. But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about the bet. It stopped being a game. And I started… I started caring about you, more than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”
You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you force yourself to keep your voice steady. “Then why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair again, his expression tortured. “Because I was scared. I was terrified that you’d look at me the way you’re looking at me now, that I’d lose you. I know that doesn’t make it better, but it’s the truth. I tried to find the right time, tried to find the right words, but I kept putting it off, thinking maybe… maybe I could make it up to you before you ever found out.” He looks down, his voice breaking. “But that was stupid. I should’ve just been honest with you from the start.”
You take a shaky breath, feeling the full weight of everything he’s saying. Part of you wants to believe him, wants to forgive him, but the wound he left is still fresh, still raw. “I trusted you, Bucky,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “I thought… I thought what we had was real.”
He looks up at you, his eyes filled with a desperate sincerity that takes you off guard. “It was real. For me, it was real. And I know that doesn’t change anything, but I need you to know that. I never meant to hurt you, and I’ll spend as long as it takes to make it up to you if you’ll let me.”
You study him for a long moment, searching his face, trying to find some indication of sincerity, something to show that he’s truly sorry. And when you see the remorse in his eyes, the sadness that mirrors your own, you feel something in your chest soften, just slightly.
“Bucky,” you begin softly, forcing yourself to stay strong, “I can’t just go back to how things were. I can’t pretend this didn’t happen. You hurt me more than anyone ever has, and it’s going to take time for me to get past that.”
He nods, his expression resigned, but he doesn’t look away. “I understand. And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. I just… I just want the chance to prove to you that I’m more than the guy who hurt you. Even if we can’t go back, I want to be there for you, even if it’s just as a friend.”
You let his words sink in, feeling a flicker of hope amidst the ache in your heart. Part of you still longs for what you had, for the closeness you shared, but you know that you can’t rush back into it. If Bucky truly wants a second chance, he’ll have to earn it, piece by piece, day by day.
“Maybe…” You hesitate, feeling vulnerable but determined. “Maybe we can start as friends. Just… friends. No promises, no expectations. If you’re willing to do that, to rebuild things from the ground up… then maybe, someday, I’ll be able to trust you again.”
Relief floods his face, and he nods, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll take that. Anything you’re willing to give, I’ll take it. I’ll prove to you that I can be better. I’ll prove that I’m worth your trust.”
You give him a tentative smile, and for the first time in days, you feel a flicker of hope. It’s small and fragile, but it’s enough to remind you that maybe healing is possible.
Over the next few weeks, Bucky becomes a constant but careful presence in your life. He shows up when you need help with an assignment, offers a listening ear when you need to vent about a long day, and joins you for coffee on campus, keeping the conversation light and easy. He respects your boundaries, never pushing for more, never expecting anything beyond friendship. You’re surprised at how attentive he is, how willing he is to wait, to prove that he’s serious about making things right.
Slowly, the walls around your heart begin to crack. You start to feel comfortable with him again, to let your guard down, if only a little. You catch him glancing at you sometimes, a soft, almost wistful look in his eyes, as if he’s seeing something precious he thought he’d lost forever. It’s in these moments that you remember why you fell for him in the first place, why his smile used to make your heart race, why his touch felt like home.
One day, as you’re both sitting on a bench by the campus pond, he turns to you, a hesitant smile on his face. “I know we’re just friends right now, and I’m okay with that. But I want you to know that I’m grateful for every moment I get to spend with you, even if it’s just like this.”
You feel a warmth spread through you, a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. “Thank you, Bucky,” you say softly. “For not giving up. For being patient with me.”
He reaches out, hesitating for a moment before resting his hand on yours, his touch warm and steady. “I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’ll prove to you that I’m here for you, no matter what.”
And as you look into his eyes, you feel a flicker of something you thought was lost—a tentative, fragile hope that maybe things could be different this time. That he could truly be the person he’s trying to be, the person you wanted him to be all along. And though you know there’s a long road ahead, you’re finally willing to take that first step with him, trusting that maybe, this time, he won’t let you down.
The night is alive with music and laughter as you step into the crowded frat house. It’s your first time back here since everything happened, and you can’t deny the nervous flutter in your stomach as you take in the familiar scene. But tonight feels different—Bucky is by your side, watching you with a gentle smile as he guides you through the chaos of people, his hand warm and steady on your arm.
Over the past few weeks, things between you and Bucky have been slowly mending. He’s proven himself time and time again, showing up when it mattered, respecting your boundaries, and never pressuring you for more than you were willing to give. He’s become someone you can lean on, someone who’s earned back your trust bit by bit. And, to your own surprise, you feel something new blossoming between you—something deeper, stronger, and more genuine than before.
When you reach the main room, you spot Sam and Steve near the keg, both of them giving you a thumbs-up as soon as they see you with Bucky. You laugh, rolling your eyes, but Bucky just grins, shrugging as if to say, They’re harmless.
“Glad you came tonight,” he says, leaning closer so you can hear him over the noise. “I was worried you might skip.”
You shrug, glancing up at him. “Well, I figured it was about time I faced the frat house again.”
He chuckles, a warm, rich sound that sends a spark of something familiar through you. It’s the same feeling you used to get when you first met, when you were just getting to know him, before anything got complicated. Only now, it feels even better—because you’re finally on solid ground with him, without secrets or lies standing between you.
As the night goes on, you find yourself enjoying the party, laughing with friends, and even dancing a bit. Bucky stays close, his presence a comforting, steady anchor amidst the noise and chaos. He’s attentive, offering you drinks and glancing over every so often to make sure you’re comfortable. And every time you catch his gaze, you feel your heart race just a little faster.
At one point, as you’re talking with a friend, you feel Bucky’s hand gently touch your arm, and he leans in close, his voice soft and intimate against your ear. “Want to get some air?”
You nod, letting him lead you through the throngs of people until you step out onto the back porch. The cool night air is a welcome relief from the warmth inside, and you breathe deeply, taking in the quiet calm of the evening. Bucky leans against the railing, watching you with a soft, almost nervous smile, his hands tucked into his pockets.
“I’ve been wanting to tell you something,” he begins, his voice low and steady, as if he’s thought about this moment a thousand times. “I know we’ve been rebuilding things, and I know you wanted to take it slow. But, Y/N… being with you these past few weeks, even just as friends, has been everything to me. And I can’t stop thinking about you. About us.”
Your heart stirs at his words, and you feel a warmth spread through you, a sense of longing that’s been building quietly since the day he asked for a second chance.
“Bucky,” you say softly, stepping a little closer. “I… I feel the same. It’s been hard, letting go of the past. But I think—no, I know—I’ve forgiven you. You’ve shown me who you really are, and… I like that person.”
His eyes brighten at your words, and he reaches out, his hand brushing your cheek as his thumb strokes gently across your skin. He leans closer, his gaze searching your face as if to make sure you’re truly ready for this.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, his voice barely audible in the quiet night air.
You feel your heart skip a beat, and you give him a small, almost shy nod, your pulse racing as he leans in, closing the distance between you. The moment his lips meet yours, it’s like the world melts away, leaving only the warmth of his touch, the softness of his mouth against yours. It’s gentle at first, tentative, as if he’s afraid of breaking the spell. But as you respond, his hand slips to the back of your neck, pulling you a little closer, deepening the kiss with a quiet, aching intensity.
When you finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath, sharing a smile that’s equal parts relief and joy.
“Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice full of warmth, “I promise, I’m not going to mess this up again. I want this with you—for real, no games.”
You smile, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “Good, because you’re stuck with me now.”
He laughs, pulling you into a tight hug, and you bury your face in his shoulder, feeling a happiness you haven’t felt in a long time. You’re finally ready to move forward with him, to start fresh, knowing that this time, it’s real.
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maybe I should've made it more angsty? I love angst, request angst people! lol
1K notes · View notes
misserabella · 6 days ago
Text
@ entersandman 2
☆☆☆☆☆ (a film for two)
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summary; after lots of teasing, you finally tell spencer who you are and help him out with his ‘little’ problem.
cw; +18 minors dni, pure porn, teasing, praising, praise kink, sexting, spencer being a needy mess, mention of streams, sex toys, a lot of orgasms, media au!, semi-public sex, oral sex (f and m receiving), cum swallowing, spitting in spencer’s mouth, pillow humping (spencer), mommy kink, sub! spencer and dom! reader, sex calls, dirty nastyyyy talking, breeding kink, fingering (r receiving), so many pet names for spencer ‘cause he deserves them, face riding/use (spencer receiving), nipple play, nipple sucking, spencer cursing, reading being a smug little shit, hickeys, this is so explicit omg, chocking (spencer receiving), spencer talking dirty?!?
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an orgasm is a very human thing. and spencer has had many, many orgasms before. he lived basically off of having them. but none of them have been as good as the one he had while seeing the pictures and videos you’d sent him.
and he’s tried…
tried so hard…
a whole week. he’s been going live every night for a week. his arms is sore at this point, he swears it’ll hurt if he got hard again. and he had made so much money… it was stupid, but maybe it was because he had tried everything that week. everything to get an orgasm as good as the one you’d given him. he had used all his toys too; his fleshlight —into which he pumped his dick with abandon using his eidetic memory to remember the sound you made on your videos—, his vibrator —which he’s run up and down his cock and around the leaking tip—, his other vibrator that stimulated his prostate —the overstimulation made him a mess, but it wasn’t as good as your guidance and words—, her blowing masturbator — to imagine what your mouth would feel like—…
but of course… it didn’t work. and you hadn’t joined not even one of those lives. he looked like a kicked puppy on all of them out of camera, needing you to cum easier and well… better, harder.
@ entersandman
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@ entersandman; want your mouth on me. i can say please.
@ entersandman
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@ entersandman; where are you? i miss you…
it wasn’t fair. you couldn’t just... show him how good “sex” could feel and then leave him like that. he grew paranoid, watching everyone —female of course— in his classes in hopes of a sign, a slip, and needy, that too.
soooooooo needy.
@ entersandman
mommy please
please need you
you smirked at the new messages on your phone.
@ puredoll
can’t baby, you know i’m studying, not everyone is smart as you, my clever boy
@ entersandman
i’ll help you! just tell me who you are and we can study together!
you snickered and sent him a picture of your cleavage, since you were laying downwards on bed, reading your philosophy books.
@ puredoll
almost got me baby. but we both know that studying isn’t what you want.
spencer groaned, at the sight and at the feeling of his cock standing up, pretty and ready to go. he pouted, and thought about sending you a picture to try and get you with his puppy eyes, but ended up getting shy about the idea and gave up.
@ entersandman
you’re mean.
you couldn’t help but laugh when the notification of spencer’s new stream popped up.
toying with him was easy, but you too had needs, and were growing needy as well. you wanted him. so bad it almost hurt. and he was growing closer to finding out who you were since you couldn’t help but stare at him in class, lost in his beauty.
so, one day, you decided to make your move…
it was a sunny day, and you had opted to wear one of your best outfits, a white snug dress that laced up around your neck with golden sandals. your hair was up in a curly hairdo with little strands cupping your face and your makeup was done with a large eyeliner and glossy cherry lips. you looked amazing —like any other day— but you decided that today you wanted to notch it up one bit by applying your favorite scented body cream, repainting your toes and nails in white and spritzing your favorite and most precious perfume around your whole body.
then, you took your school purse and keys and left for the day.
you didn’t even need to find him, he came to you like as if god knew of your intentions. he looked pretty. with a blue shirt and tie, and brown trousers and shoes. preppy, nerdy, slim fingers sliding up the bridge of his nose his glasses. his hair was taimed, perfectly combed, and he was clinging onto his satchel like a little kid.
cute. you smiled and slowed your walking towards the class, so you could…
“oh. sorry. please go ahead.” he said as he almost bumped into you going pass the threshold and into the room.
you looked up at him and with a kind smile said. “thanks, pretty.” the last part was tinged in teasing, your lips curving more into a smirk now as you looked away and made your way inside, your perfume engulfing him as you passed by.
and he stood there, frozen. ‘cause not only a pretty girl had just called him pretty himself, but… “pretty”, what you always called him on streams and in your nightly chats. and that smirk…
he gulped. could it be? he looked inside and saw you watching him, curving your eyebrows as in ‘aren’t you gonna come inside?’
his feet moved alone, and before he could stop himself he was sitting right by your side.
“bold move, spencer.” you said, and he shook to the core.
spencer, spencer, spencer, spencer…
it was as if you were made to say his name.
“is it you?” he inquired, his eyes on your profile until you turned towards him with a playful frown.
“ ‘is it me’? who am i, spencer?” you were teasing him. of course you were. he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists on his thighs, his checks flushing, adam’s apple bobbing. he looked around, at the almost empty classroom. “what is it? you can’t say it?” he shook his head and you cooed. “aw, i thought better of you than this, spencer.”
he swallowed harshly and closed his eyes for a second before looking at you like a puppy.
“mommy.” he muttered and you smiled.
“good boy.” you praised him, and he had to swallow down a moan, it sounded better than he had imagined. you were better than he had imagined. you were beautiful, gorgeous, breathtaking… you surely knew how to take his breath away.
“why… why now? why are you telling me now?” he inquired and you hummed.
“you aren’t happy?”
“no! of course not, it’s not that! it’s just…” you understood.
“well i was growing tired and… i really wanted to play with you.” you pouted, and reached for his cheek, caressing it. spencer swallowed again, and gripped his satchel over his legs. you smirked. “what are you hiding, huh?”
“nothing.”
“spence…” you warned and his cheeks got impossibly red.
“you know.”
“yeah, i know. but i want you to say it.” his whole neck flushed and his lips trembled. “come on, be a good boy.” you purred.
“you made me hard.” he explained and you smirked.
“aw, that easy? baby… someone’s needy, hm?” your hand came into his hair, and he hummed, almost moaned as you scratched at his scalp.
“you… you left me.”
“what do you mean baby?” you played with the little hairs on his nape.
“you didn’t enter my streams.” you cooed once again.
“i know. did you miss me?” he nodded. “you did, huh? what did you do on those streams, hm? tell mommy.” god. you couldn’t talk about this things in public, but again, there were two more people in the class since it still was early, and they were on the furthest seats ever on the back chatting away. there’s no way they could hear you. his eyes trailed over to them anxiously and your other hand fell to his thigh. he almost jumped out of his seat. “spence.”
“i… i played with my toys.” he quivered.
“played with your toys, huh?” he nodded, hair falling to his pretty eyes. “what kind of toys?” he gulped when your hand started to move up his inner thigh and below his satchel.
“my… vibrators.” you hummed.
“and did you cum?” he nodded. “was it good?” he shook his head this time. “why not?” you were now drawing circles with your thumb on his thigh and he was stuttering.
“you weren’t there.” you almost melted at his pout. you would give him anything if he played that move on you, by your reaction, spencer knew, and he was gonna take it to his advantage. “i missed you so much mommy…” suddenly someone shouted in the back and startled you. it was a shriek of joy.
‘the class got cancelled!!’
‘are you joking?’
‘nuh-huh! god i’m gonna go back to my house and sleep the rest of the day.’
you could hear the other couple chatting as they quickly gathered their things and left from the back exists in a hurry to get back into their beds.
it was as if god loved you. how else could you have gotten spencer alone… with you?
spencer suddenly felt as if he were being stalked by a predator by how your eyes changed. your hand moved up… up… up… until you were cupping his erection, and he let out the prettiest whimper you’ve ever heard.
“god, you sound prettier than through the screen…” you sighed.
“mommy…”
“what is it baby?” you started to touch him from over his pants, with your hand measuring his length. he was big…
“we can’t… we’re at school…” he whined, although his hips thrusted against your touch in need for more.
“you don’t seem too sure about that.” you smirked. “you’re so pretty, the prettiest boy ever. you know how badly i wanted to enter those streams and see you? but no. i had to go slow with you. well i’m tired of going slow. aren’t you, spence?” he nodded.
“yes, yes, god…”
you pushed his satchel aside. “wanna see you.” he nodded once again, and with desperate fingers struggled to open his pants, pulling from his clothes so his cock would slip free. you clicked your tongue at the sight of his reddened tip. “baby… look at you. doesn’t it hurt?” he nodded.
“i just couldn’t help it…” he cried out. he had touched himself raw. “every time i thought about you…” he flushed. you understood.
“i can’t touch you like this, it’ll hurt you.” you cooed and his puppy eyes came back.
“no! please! it won’t hurt i promise! i’ll be good!” he begged, and you shook your head. “please mommy please…” you sighed.
“i can’t use my hands…” you said, but smirked, there were other ways to make him cum. and you were good at them. his eyes almost popped out of their spheres when you got on your knees in front of him.
“oh god…” he whispered at the sight and the implication of what you were about to do.
“i’m about to ruin my lipstick, so you better behave, hm?” he quickly nodded, desperately even.
“i’ll behave mommy, i promise.”
“good boy, pretty.” you said, and took him in your hand. he moaned, his head falling backwards on his seat. “baby… i haven’t even started yet.” you chuckled.
“sorry, it’s just… i’ve thought so much about this…” he bit down on his botton lip and you let out another chuckle.
“you’re so cute…” and with that your tongue swiped a stroke across his red and raw head. your lips curved at the whimper that fell from his lips and just how quickly his hand came to the top of your head. you licked clean the beads of precum there with a hum. “taste so good baby… better than i imagined.”
“keep praising me and i’ll cum.” he whined breathlessly and you laughed, pumping him slowly from his base before taking him into your mouth with a little moan.
him and his praise kink…
you loved the heady taste, how thick and large he was, and how warm he felt in your mouth.
he wouldn’t stop leaking, and you started to suck, slowly taking more and more of him in your mouth with the bobs of your head. you thanked this was a secluded area and 1. the doors were all closed and 2. there were no cameras, ‘cause spencer wasn’t good at keeping quiet, and you’d kill anyone who saw the pretty faces he was making right now as you fucked him with your mouth.
“mommy…” he moaned, his back arching as you sped up. “fuck. feels so good mommy, so good… thank you, fuck, thank you…” he praised you, and you felt your core getting wetter than it already was. you too had a praise kink after all.
his hips started to thrust up and your hands left him to go to his hips and push him down on his seat.
“sorry, sorry mommy…” he cried as you popped him out of your mouth and hissed a ‘stay put’ at him.
“you’re gonna be good and take it, aren’t you pretty?” he nodded. “that’s my good boy.” you went back at him, licking him from base to tip before taking him back down your throat.
“oh my god…” he was a mess. but he was your mess. he hissed when you gave special attention to his head, licking and sucking harshly. but the pain only made the whole experience better. he was a gentleman, pushing the little strands of hair out of your face, but he was getting lost on the feeling of his impending orgasm. “mommy, i’m gonna…”
“you’re gonna cum for me?” you asked as you pumped him. he nodded, his tongue peeking to wet his lips.
“yes, yes mommy…”
“where do you wanna cum, hm pretty?” you inquired, sucking on his head.
he blushed. “can i…?” he stopped, stuttering.
“come on baby, be good and use your big words.”
“can i cum in your mouth?” his puppy eyes were back, his adam’s apple bobbing. you smiled.
“you wanna cum in my mouth? wanna fill me up and watch me swallow it all?” you haunted him and he nodded. “how do we ask for it?”
“please mommy, please… can i?” you hummed in thought, just to tease him, before nodding.
“yes, you can, baby.” he moaned, and you went back to taking him back in your throat, down to the base, almost choking. the feeling of your throat closing around him making him whimper and thrash.
“ah-ah-ah!” he hiccuped, voice airy and the grip of his hand tightening on your hair. his cock twitching inside your mouth, and with one last suck, he couldn’t hold it anymore. he let go with a high-pitched whimper, his mouth falling open in a silent moan as his head fell back and his neck got exposed to your hungry eyes. you swallowed everything he gave you as you continued bobbing your head to extend his orgasm.
once down from it, you popped him out of your mouth, licking your lips clean.
you looked up at him to watch his chest rising and heaving in breathless puffs of air.
“are you okay baby?” you inquired him, and he mindlessly nodded. you had just sucked him braindead. “that good, huh?” you smirked, and he nodded.
“so good, mommy. thank you.”
“aw… so polite…” you got up from your knees, but not before putting him back in his briefs. “open up.” you patted his lips and he followed your orders. you spat into it and he moaned, happily swallowing. “good boy.”“tastes good?” he nodded. “does it hurt, baby?” you patted his chest, your noses touching.
“no, mommy.” he shook his head.
“still. you’ve gotta take care of yourself baby, how else am i gonna have fun with you, mh?” he nodded. he was still breathless and with a fuzzy mind. “no more touching until you’re all better, understood?”
“understood.”
“atta boy.”
later that day spencer posted on his twitter.
@ entersandman
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@ entersandman; head so good i’d be losing mine
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after that spencer really did lose his mind.
you were serious about the “no touching”, but this. this was pure torture.
not only he could remember every little thing about your head, but you just looked so good everyday at school, and your messages, and your pictures… god… he was going crazy.
he needed to touch himself but he was supposed to be a good boy, so he couldn’t.
@ entersandman
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@ entersandman; i’m being a good boy i promise mommy
but he wanted to rub one out so badly…
“mommy…” he whimpered.
it was a late night friday. 2AM. and spencer was desperately and ridiculously grinding against his pillow. it had been a week since he had the feeling of your mouth around him. a whole week of teasing from your part. he was already healed. and so, oh so desperate.
he hadn’t cum in a week, and it was getting to his head. that’s how he found himself right were he was right now.
“that’s it baby, keep humping that pillow for me.”
you had been surprised by the incoming call. this late at night? it shouldn’t have been bad, but not spencer moaning and whimpering on the other end, what quickly turned you the fuck on.
“oh fuck…” he whined, his sweatpants being the perfect friction against his leaking cock.
“what are you thinking about, huh?”
“your mouth…” he sighed. “mommy please… let me touch myself, please…”
“mmmh… you sound so pretty begging for it, baby… it’s been long since you last did it, huh?”
“yes.” he whimpered.
“awww, poor baby.” you cooed and he groaned at the way his cock jumped. “you wanna touch yourself baby? you wanna cum?” he moaned as a positive. “but what if i want it for me, huh? all that pent up, heavy load of yours, hm?”
he almost came right that instant as he thrusted against the pillow.
“you want it?” he panted and you hummed. “where?”
“in my pussy.” spencer’s eyes rolled.
“oh my god.”
“so… are you sure you wanna waste it in your hand?”
“no, but…” he whined.
“but?”
“you’re not here…”
“so why don’t you come here?” his eyebrows perked up. “come to my place.”
“are you serious?” he questioned you, and you giggled.
“of course i am, it must have been so hard for you this week… you should come here and let me make you feel better.” you purred. he moaned.
“i’ll be there in 10 minutes.” he quickly babbled, and hung up.
you sent him your address as he quickly put on some clothes and took the keys to his car.
now you just had to wait.
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“mmmph!” your mouth was on his as soon as he stepped through the door, tongue swiping his lower lip for entrance. what little of his erection had gone down in the way was quickly back as you pushed into his mouth.
“you taste so good…” you whispered against his lips, his hands on your hips as he kissed you once again, desperately.
“need you…” he whined, his cock throbbing against your belly.
“you do, huh?” he nodded. “how much?”
“so much…”
“yeah?” your fingers trailed down his jaw, and he shivered.
“yeah.” he whispered against your lips.
“then show me.” without needing to tell him twice, his hands shot up to the sides of your face, pulling him for the wettest and neediest kiss someone had ever given you. he was pouring everything he had on it, and you moaned, melting against him as he guided you backwards.
“room?” he hummed between kisses.
“to the right.” you answered and squeaked when his big hands came down to your thighs and pulled you up, making you surround his hips. the two of you groaned at the feeling of his erection against your pussy, and you rocked your hips to feel more.
“fuck.”
he quickly made his way into the room, never straying from your lips and softly placing you onto your bed.
“mommy.” he whispered against your jaw as he kissed his way down to your neck.
“yeah, baby?”
“wanna eat your pussy.” he whispered against your skin, and you shivered.
“yeah? you wanna eat my pussy, honey?”
“yes, please.” he begged and you groaned, nodding. he whimpered at just the thought, his hands quickly followed yours to your shorts, pulling them off along with your underwear as you moved up the bed and him; down, kissing at the exposed skin on your stomach. you groaned at the feeling. you had thought so much about this…
he kissed at the skin of your hip, nibbling and sucking as he made his way in between your legs, pulling them over his shoulders.
“you’re so beautiful…” he groaned at the sight of you all spread out for him and glistening… “god i just can’t wait.” he whispered before diving in and licking a fat stroke up your slit with a moan, whimpering when you did too and your hands made their way into his hair and tugged.
“oh god, spencer…” he ate you out like a man starved, sucking at your clit before going back down to your entrance and plunging his tongue inside to slurp out your juices.
“so good, mommy, you taste so good…” he moaned, licking his lips before going back at it. you pulled at his hair, messing it all up as you rocked your pussy against his tongue, riding his face and pulling him closer. he was even louder than you were as he licked everything up.
one of his fingers caressed your entrance and your hips canted upwards, moaning as he pushed it inside.
“fuck, pretty. you’re so good at this… fuck me with your fingers baby.” you ordered and he complied, starting with the one already inside, pumping it in and out as he suckled at your clit. “just like that, good boy.” he whimpered and added another, curling them to hit your g spot. he wanted to make you feel good. he needed the praise. his hips rocked against the mattress as he fucked you with his fingers and licked your clit. “atta boy, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum…” your back arched. “gonna give you this pussy baby. gonna make you a fucking mess. want your load inside of me, fuck, spencer, fuck!” you could feel yourself reaching it, getting closer and closer and closer… “yes, yes, yes!!!!” you used his face as with a final suck and curl of his fingers you fell apart, your eyes rolling back. he moaned when he felt you squeezing his fingers, fucking you through it.
once you came down, he licked you clean. sucking his fingers inside his mouth with a moan.
“come here.” you ordered, pulling from his tee-shirt until he was in between your legs. “you did so good baby… ate me out so good…” you praised him, and he sighed, smiling. “now give me a taste, will you?” you purred, pulling down his bottom lip to open up his mouth as you guided him to yours, kissing him hungrily as you took off his top.
he whimpered, his tongue dancing with your own as you rolled the two of you over and sitting on his lap. “fuuuuck…” he moaned when you started to roll your hips against his.
“you’re so hard…” you bit down on your bottom lip, discarding your shirt. his eyes widened at the sight of your naked and exposed chest, his hands quickly going to your breasts and thumbs rolling your nipples. “i want you now.” you smirked, and he nodded, helping you get rid of the last piece of clothing that was on him, since he wasn’t wearing any underwear. “no underwear? someone came ready…” you smirked and he whined, being cut off by his own moan when your pussy made contact with his cock. your lips engulfed his length as you rocked your hips, lubing him up.
“you’re killing me.” he cried out, his dick twitching, head dribbling with precum.
“shhh… let me make you feel better, pretty.” you kissed his lips, taking him in your hand as you rose your hips and guided him to your entrance. “gonna fuck you so good spence… you’ll forget your own name.” you promised before you slowly sank down on him.
and spencer knew you were telling the truth, ‘cause just with the tip inside, his mind was blank.
“oh god, oh my god, jesus christ, fuck, shit…” you wanted to laugh at the indecent amount of words that were stumbling past his lips.
“aw come on baby, already?” you smirked. “it’s just the tip.” his hands were on your hips, fingertips pressing against your supple skin. “are you sure can you handle it?” you inquired but he didn’t answer, moaning as you lowered yourself just the slightest amount, taking another inch. “spencer.” you harshly called out his name.
“yes?” he dazedly replied, chest heaving, cheeks flushed. you could eat him up.
“i said. can. you. handle it?”
“yesyesyes, please mommy. i can. i promise.”
“good. don’t you dare cum until i tell you to.” you ordered before taking all of him in in a quick movement. his eyes rolled backwards and from his mouth erupted the most beautiful whimper you’ve ever heard.
“oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”
“sure, if you wanna call me that.” you shrugged, a smug smile on your lips as you started rolling your hips to adjust to his girth. “fuck, you’re stretching me out so good baby, so fucking big… a pretty boy with a pretty and big cock, you have it all don’t you?” he moaned, nodding at your words even if he hadn’t really processed them. he was trying his best not to burst.
come on, he hadn’t come in a week. a week in which you hadn’t stopped edging him. you had to know what you were doing to him. you just had to.
“don’t move, please.” he muttered, his dick twitching, he was gonna cum so hard.
“we haven’t even started yet…” you sighed, and he pouted. he wanted to make you feel good, but you had this effect on him in which he could cum with just one single touch. “i thought you could handle it…”
“i can! it’s just…” he saw you smirk. “god… you know what you do to me, you know.” you puckered your lips as you leaned closer to his own.
“that i drive you crazy?” you rolled your hips and he moaned, his grip tightening. “oh i know darling, i can feel it…” you whispered against his ear before your lips latched to his neck and your hips started to slightly move.
“you’re killing me.” he whimpered, and you hummed, sucking a pretty mark where you knew he wouldn’t be able to hide it. “don’t stop.” his hands wandered to your ass and helped you move more, slowly riding his cock.
you moaned when his tip kissed your cervix.
“fuck baby you’re so deep, can’t wait to feel you pump me full.” he moaned, and his hips subconsciously pumped upwards, making you laugh, although you almost squeaked. “oh you liked that, huh? like the idea or your cum inside me, pretty?” he nodded.
“yes, fuck, yes. want it all deep inside your pussy mommy.” you moaned, moving harder. the squelches of your wetness around his dick moving in and out of you filled your room, only turning the two of you more.
“yeah baby? want me round and pretty for you?” the idea almost made him cum and you noticed. one of your hands surrounded his neck. “answer me, baby.”
“yes,yes,yes.”
“good boy.” you started to ride him in earnest. his eyes fell to your jumping breasts and then his hands followed, rolling your nipples to stimulate you. your back arched. “that’s it, touch me pretty, touch my tits.” your hand tightened around his neck and his hips stuttered against yours. “you like it, hm? like my hand around your neck baby?” he nodded.
“harder.” he begged and your smile got wider.
“atta boy.” you complied and his moans increased in volume. “that’s it pretty, let me hear you.”
“mommy…” he whimpered. “i can’t, it feels so good…!”
“don’t you dare. i’ve just started playing with you.” he whined, but nodded, his muscles tensing as you went faster, your own moans spilling into the room. “fuck, such a good cock. love it. love your cock baby.” you praised him, and you felt it twitch. he rose to hold you, his hands back on your ass to drive you harder down on his cock until his tip was breaching your cervix and your eyes were rolling back.
you wouldn’t let him cum? fine. then he’ll make you cum first.
his mouth latched to your right nipple as his hips snapped up against yours.
“spencer!” you screamed in ecstasy.
“mommy, fuck, mommy.” he panted against your chest, moaning against your skin before his tongue would circle your nipples and suck.
“don’t stop. don’t stop, just like that.” you were surprised at his sudden change, but you weren’t gonna complain, not when he was fucking the lights out of you.
“it was made for me, mommy. your pussy was made for me. it takes me so good…” he was babbling, whimpering as you tugged on his hair. the two of you moved messily, taking from the other, giving at the same time. desperate. hungry. it was as if you two were in heat, lost on each other.
“fuck baby, i’m gonna cum. gonna cum all over your pretty cock.” you moaned, and he went harder, one of his hands surrounding your waist to keep you in place for his incessant thrusts and the other moving to your clit, drawing circles on it to push you closer. “fuck,fuck,fuck!!!!!” you screamed, your back arching as with a couple more thrusts your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, clenching down hard on his dick.
spencer whimpered, driving into you over and over again to fuck you through it, begging like crazy during it. “please mommy, can i cum? can i cum now? please let me cum, let me fill you up mommy.”
“yes pretty yes, fuck my pussy, pump me full of your cum. i want it in my womb.” his hips stuttered and with, one, two, three more pumps he was burying himself impossibly deeper, breaching your cervix and spilling into your womb with a moan.
you two continued to rock against the other to ride the high down until all that was left was pure bliss. you two flopped down against the bed, you on top of him as you tried catching your breaths.
“uh…” he tried, clearing his throat. he was out of words.
“yeah.” you nodded. “that was…”
“yeah.” he copied you. “wanna go again?” he asked after a beat, too eager to make you feel good again.
“yeah.” you muttered before devouring his lips.
[…]
months passed, and spencer was once again on one of his lives, shirtless, his stomach tied up in knots in nervousness. his adam’s apple bobber, his breath hitched as your fingers scratched his neck.
“hey you all, i have a surprise for you.” he said before an unknown figure slowly joined him on his bed, completely clad in lingerie. “this… is my girlfriend, and today… she’ll be joining me.” he stuttered as you pressed wet kisses to his neck and jaw.
“ready, pretty?” you inquired him, kissing his lips. and he nodded, puppy eyes staring at you. “good. cause i’m gonna fuck you dumb. and they are all gonna watch.”
☆☆☆☆☆
1K notes · View notes
oreo-creampie · 10 months ago
Text
𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐢𝐧’, 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧’ 𝐧’ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: high!reader, satosugu au, cocksucking/face-fucking/pussy-eating, double pentration (same hole/no anal), heavy heavy praise/teasing, confessions, heavy overstimulation, mindbreak, squirting, dacryphilia, begging, creampie, satoru sucks on the mix of cum that suguru scoops out of your cunt, cervix fucking, letting wine trickle into your mouth with a kiss/licking wine off of you, first time with the reader, size kink, satosugu in an established relationship (they had talked about their feelings with each other for you previously/Satoru has talked to you and set something up for suguru’s b-day), bdsm sex room, bondage (with long silk ribbon instead of rope), suguru is blindfolded temporarily, biting, spanking
𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞! 3.1k/11 minutes
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: HI PRETTY;!! today marks geto suguru's birthday iirc (3rd of February), so could this nonnie pretty please with a cherry ontop request something, anything that involves his birthday!! :3 bonus points if Satoru's being a tease to him all the way through ♡♡ can be smutty or fluffy according to your own fantasies, author!
Oreo: thank you anon for reminding me about his b day it straight slipped my mind! 🫶🏽
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Satoru leads Suguru towards you, long blue ribbons wrap around your chest, and waist, binding your arms behind your back. Your legs are free, unable to touch the floor. A small bullet vibrator is pulsing on your soft, sensitive clit. Your cunt is dripping wet, your body is trembling, and you can't stop moaning.
Satoru reminds you, “Don't speak yet gorgeous you’ll ruin it.” Suguru’s cheek, stopping Suguru close to your bound body. Satoru glides two long, thick fingers in with a loud squelch. “You can moan all you want sweetheart.” Satoru pumps his fingers faster, stroking your sweet spot.
Satoru lets go of Suguru, leaving him standing with a blindfold on and his hard cock hanging. There is a thick white pre-cum beading up on the tip of his cock. He remarks, “She sounds sexy, looks like we don't have to gag this one.”
“I had a feeling you’ll like how she’s sounds. Best birthday gift we’ve given in years.”
“We?”
“You'll see.”
Satoru admires your soft cunt stretching for his thick fingers. “I wanna be able to hear you when I close my eyes and touch myself.” Satoru glides his fingers out, smearing your slick on Suguru’s lips.
Suguru takes Satoru’s fingers into his mouth, licking and sucking with a loud groan. Till Satoru glides them out. “She tastes so good, I want more, lemme eat her out.” He reaches for the blindfold when Satoru gently grabs his wrist.
Satoru spits twice into his palm smearing it cover Suguru. Lowering Suguru’s hand as he drops his head back, softly sighing. “Fuck, love your hand is so damn soft.” Satoru lets him go, and closing the small space. Grinding his hips rubbing their cocks together.
Satoru looks down at the soft smile of lustful bliss on Suguru’s lips. “I'll let you take this off if you let me give you something first. It’s your birthday.” He slips Suguru’s blindfold off, tossing it aside.
Satoru steps aside to let Suguru see you. “We indeed, princess your trembling, how many times have you cummed? Let’s see if he can guess.” Satoru hugs Suguru from behind with one arm. Grabbing Suguru’s thick, heavy cock, slowly gliding his fingers over his head, smearing Suguru’s thick pre-cum.
You moan, “Lost count! It feels good! I want more! Want something to split my cunt open.” The veins in Suguru’s cock pulse with his heartbeat racing.
Satoru pumps his swirling fist faster. “Helped her get high as fuck before tying her up. Left her with a vibrator on her clit, which is why she left the party a little early and why I spent so long in the bathroom.” He kisses Suguru’s shoulder, then bites.
Suguru moans, grinding his ass into Satoru’s cock. “Both of you will be forgiven if you let me do what I want.” Satoru grabs Suguru’s hair and tugs.
He protests, “But it’s your birthday!” Satoru slowly swipes his thumb over Suguru’s head. “Lemme suck you off, you can watch her cum, that vibrator is not going anywhere.” Satoru gets on his knees in front of Suguru, looking up at him, holding his cock up. His head close to Satoru’s lips.
“You look beautiful staring up at me like that.” Suguru grabs Satoru’s hair. “How’s about you suck my cock in between me stuffing it in her cunt?” He nudges Satoru’s lips then glides his cock deep into Satoru’s soft, warm wet mouth.
You can't string the words together, “Nnn fuck! Gonna! Nn! It feels!” Your soft cunt is squirting thick clear cum, writhing in the blue ribbon, your thighs trembling, your loud moans feeling the room.
You whine, “Too much! Wanna cum! Too muuuch!" Thick tears trickle down your face, and your cunt is dripping, adding to the puddle.
Satoru grabs Suguru’s thighs, digging his nails in. Suguru lets up, gliding his cock out and giving Satoru a moment to breathe.
Suguru remarks, “Our beautiful princess is obliterated n’ so fuckin’ wet. It’s been two hours! You’re so mean to her but fuck this is the best birthday gift y'all could have given me.” Suguru holds Satoru’s head still, his thick cock in Satoru’s throat, his nose touching Suguru’s short dark hair.
Slowly Suguru glides his cock out of Satoru’s mouth. Spit drips down Satoru’s chin, tears trickling down his face. “Crying from choking on my cock this easily? You’re such a pretty mess.” He smacks Satoru’s cheek with his heavy cock.
Satoru grabs his cock and trails soft kisses along him. He looks up at him with bright blue eyes. “Says the one getting off on it. Isn't that right daddy? You always like makin' me cry, make me beg to cum while my cock is drooling pre-cum.” Satoru quickly glides Suguru into his throat, gagging.
Suguru groans, tightening his grasp on Satoru’s hair. Keeping Satoru’s head still Suguru decides, “You less annoying with my dick in your throat.”
You cry, “Fuck!” The toy on your clit is becoming too much. You rub your thighs together; do nothing to move the vibrator off your clit. “Please! Please! Please!” Suguru glides his cock out of Satoru’s throat and steps around him. Leaving him on his knees trying to steady his breath.
Suguru turns off the toy, giving you instant relief and frustration. “Wanna be touched. Please! Wanna cum! But I'm tired of the toy!” Suguru gently takes the tape off, and you tense up, wincing from the soft stinging.
He tosses the toy onto the nearby bed. Then looks down at you, the admiration in his eyes has you feeling beautiful and desirable. “Poor sweet, beautiful mama. he gave you a lot didn't he, left you tied up in our sex room and made me think you left early.” He kisses your sensitive, puffy clit. You can feel your pulse in your clit. Going from the intense stimulation to no at all is unbearable.
Suguru grabs your thigh, holding it up, gliding one thick, long finger into you, softly pressing his thumb on your throbbing clit. You tense up, the pleasure is boarding on pain. He croons, “So sore and sensitive, the sudden lack of stimulation must be unbearable." He keeps his finger and thumb still.
You moan, "It is! Your hand feels wonderful, I love it when you touch me." His hands are slightly rougher and bigger than Satoru's.
Suguru wonders, "Are you sure you want more? I can take you down, clean you up, cuddle you close. keep my hand on your cunt. We can possibly let Satoru cuddle us." Satoru turns around on his knees and grabs Suguru’s hips then bites his ass.
Suguru jolts, his knees momentarily buckling before regaining the strength. He reaches back and grabs Satoru’s hair, “Damn brat.” He pulls Satoru off of his ass, pulling him up to his side. Causing Satoru to quickly move on his knees.
Suguru glares at Satoru who proudly smiles up at him. He wraps his hand around Suguru's cock slowly pumping his fist. "Do you want Suguru's fat cock in you?" Suguru lets go of Satoru's hair.
Satoru leans in and licks your dripping wet hole. You groan, "Fuck me please do what you want." You wrap your leg around Suguru's waist pulling him closer. Suguru stops you from closing the space completely. Gliding in another finger stretching you out.
Satoru pulls away, then sucks on Suguru's balls. Suguru groans, "He's such a fuckin' whore, now he can bother you more and me a little less. Welcome to the gojo problem."
Satoru pulls away from Suguru's balls and exclaims, "Hey I'm a delight."
"Sometimes."
"Occasionally a menace but you're our menace. It can be charming."
Suguru kisses your forehead then warns, "You're encouraging him."
Satoru stands up and wraps his arms around Suguru’s waist. Resting his head on Suguru’s broad shoulder. "She's right, you love it about me." Suguru's hips lightly buck when Satoru traces along his v-line.
Satoru insists to you, "Tell him sweetheart."
You wonder, “Like this?! Why not after?”
"Why not now?"
Suguru softly cups face. “You’re incredible mama, the color of your nipples, your soft clit, your wet lips.” He leans in, “Tell me princess.”
Your body flushes with a different type of heat. You look away from Suguru's intense gaze, “It’s stupid!” Tilting your head back groaning when Suguru's fingers graze that sweet spot that consumes you with sweet pleasure.
Satoru croons, “Aw you're sexy getting embarrassed while tied up."
Suguru pumps his fingers faster, lightly swiping your clit with his thumb. He gently kisses your cheek, urging you, "Close your eyes and say it beautiful."
You close your eyes and blurt out, “I'm not dating either of you so how can I be in love with you?" Suguru softly kisses you, gliding another finger in. Stretching out and loosening your soft cunt with his thick fingers. Your soft cunt squelches as he fucks three thick fingers into you.
Satoru pulls away from Suguru, moving behind you. Softly squeezes your ass before slapping both cheeks twice. He brings up, "It’s not like you don't already live here, it’s not like we message you good morning and goodnight when you do stay at your place.” He softly plays with your nipples, lightly squeezing, pulling, and massaging between two fingers.
Suguru adds, “Taking you on our dates, putting you in the middle. It chases off anyone that wants to flirt with you, we’ve been so damn obvious." He flicks, pinches, and twists your soft nipples.
You cry into Suguru's sweet, soft kiss. Suguru focuses on your sweet spot. Your soft cunt clenches his thick fingers. You're so close, getting off on the sweet pain as much as the overwhelming pleasure.
Satoru eases up, taunting you, "Aw how badly did that hurt?" He softly massages your aching nipples. Pressing his hard cock against your back, slowly rutting his hips. His pre-cum is smearing on your back, soaking into the silk wrapping around your waist.
Suguru glides his fingers out, smearing your slick on his thick cock. Then lines himself up with your soft cunt, lightly nudging his thick cockhead into you. "Fuck your soft cunt looks so beautiful love seeing the way she stretches to take my fat cock."
You moan and tug Suguru forward with your thigh gliding more of his cock into you. Suguru bottoms out and grinds his cock on your cunt, your soft cunt rubbing the soft ridge of his cockhead.
You whine, "Please!" Suguru slowly sinks his cock into you. Watching every inch glide inside your soft lips rubbing his cock. Satoru gets on his knees, groaning as he licks your hole stretching around Suguru's cock.
He kisses Suguru's balls and bites his thighs. Causing Suguru to roughly thrust in you. You whine, "Nnn fuuuck me." Suguru slowly fucks your squelching, warm cunt. His balls hit Satoru's face as he loudly groans. His warm tongue is soft on your cunt and Suguru's cock.
Suguru softly wraps his hand around your throat. "I thought we were too obvious. We haven't gone a single day without seeing you in the past year that we have met you." Satoru bites your ass, slapping your other cheek.
You cry and try to twist your hips away from Satoru. Who moves out from underneath you when he lets go. He grabs your hips and fucks you on Suguru's cock, making you meet Suguru's slow hard thrust faster.
You sheepishly moan, “I thought! Nnn I thought! Both of you were being really friendly.” Satoru rolls his eyes, letting you go and stepping away. His attention shifts to the wine in a bucket of ice.
Suguru lets your throat go, letting him grab your hips. Keeping his rough, hard pace steady. His face looks so beautiful when he is chasing his own pleasure with your cunt.
His soft brown eyes are fiery with an intense passion. His cheek flushing a soft pink, his mouth forming an o.
Satoru rolls his eyes, “Suguru might look sweet, but he is an asshole look at him! He barely tolerates anyone." He pops the wooden top off making Suguru and you jump.
Suguru with his cock in you snaps at Satoru, “I don't want to hear it from the sadistic dick that left her drugged and tied up with a vibrator.” He flips Satoru off who comes over, pouring some of the wine onto your tits soaking you.
Satoru defenses himself with, “I checked up on her when I was going to the bathroom.” He takes a swing then grabs your hair, yanking your head back and kissing you roughly. You part your lips and cool wine trickles in, forcing you to roughly swallow.
Suguru dips his head and licks the wine dripping down your chest. Slowly rolling his hips gliding his cock into you. Satoru pulls away and walks behind you, keeping his grasp on your hair firm.
He tilts the bottle pouring wine. You have to close your eyes and open your mouth Some of it trickles down your chin and neck. Suguru licks it up, wrapping his muscular arm around your waist.
The wine run dry, Satoru slaps your ass and lets your hair go. He walks away with the bottle setting it down on the closest surface.
Suguru groans “You’re so fucking wet, so soft n’ warm, love feeling your soft cunt squeezing my hard cock.” Fucking his thick, veiny cocky into you harder, faster, groaning when your cunt clenched him.
You loudly cry, “Daddy! Harder! Please! Fuck! Right there! Please wanna cum, please.” Suguru cock head is stroke that sweet spot. The pleasure is overwhelming, sweet and addicting making it hard to think.
Satoru comes back cock in hand waiting for Suguru to slow down and move his arm so he can line himself up.
You whine when Suguru stops and Satoru croons, “Don't worry your daddies are gonna help you cum, fill you full of cum, then cuddle you close after we clean you up.” Suguru bites your neck causing you to cry.
Satoru groans gliding his thinner but longer cock in, touching your cervix. The gentle burning ache fades with each of their unevenly thrusts, become toe curling pleasure, you’re so full of their thick, warm cocks.
Their cocks are rubbing together inside of you. Fondling your soft body with their large hands unable to get enough of how you feel. The sweet high makes your pleasure mind-numbing, body-tingling and intense.
It’s like you can't stop cumming. Your cunt is squelching, quivering and dripping wet.
Suguru groans, “You’re our’s! Need to hear you say it princess.” He slips his hand in between swiping your clit with his thumb, watching your cunt. “It’s so fucking sexy that your soft cunt can take both of us. Nnn Satoru’s is longer so my head keeps rubbing right beneath his.”
Satoru moans "It’s pushing me against her cervix, it’s like I might slip through, get deep in her guts.” Fucking you harder, you tense up, your toes curling jaw crying and eyes burning with tears from the sweet pain.
Satoru insists, “Tell our Daddy what he wants to hear, make this the best birthday we could give him." But the words are barely registering with you.
Fat tears trickle down your face. You cry, "Mine! Fuck! Miiiinnnnn! Daddy! Wanna!!”
Satoru breathy chuckle becomes a loud groan. He smirks at Suguru, "Hear that we are her new boyfriends and eventual baby daddies. I wonder if our cum mixes together in her does the dna-" Suguru chokes Satoru, who grabs your other thigh keeping it up, helping them bully your soft cunt with their cocks.
“I love you but shut up.” He pulls him in for a kiss. Your smaller body in between their large, hard muscular chest. You bite Suguru's thick pec as they make out over your head. He groans into Satoru's mouth.
Suguru's veins pulse warm thick cum spurts from his thick cock. He tightens his grasp on your thigh and you let his pec go. Satoru and Suguru break away, Suguru whines, biting his trembling body lip, his big muscular body quivering.
Suguru whines, "Fuck it's too much!" He goes to pull out when Satoru lets your thigh go. You wrap your leg around his waist. Satoru grabs a handful of Suguru's hair.
Satoru slips his hands between squeezing one of Suguru's tits along with pinching your nipple. "Don't pull out yet, wanna keep feeling rubbing our cocks together inside her soft warm soaking wet cunt." He looks down at your face, taking in your cock drunk expression as you rest your head on his chest.
"I can't believe you're our's to hold close, to fuck, to kiss, to say I fuckin' love you too." Satoru leans down for a soft kiss, contrasting his sloppy, rough pace. Suguru's legs are becoming wobbly, the pleasure becoming too much for him.
Suguru hunches over and bites your neck. Grabbing your hip, his thick fingers sinking into your soft hip's crease. He's trying to manage how good it feels to have your soft cunt squeezing him against Satoru's hard cock.
Suguru begs, "Fuck please cum Satoru." Satoru lets your sore nipple go, pulling Suguru in close crushing you with Suguru's chest.
He demands, "Wanna hear you both call me daddy."
"Please cum daddy!" Overlaps with,
"Wanna feel you cum daddy!" Satoru cum is thicker, tricking out of his cock when he's only half in you. He roughly stuff his cock in deeper, grinding his hips, rubbing his cockhead against your cervix. Pushing his cum in deeper with Suguru's.
"Happy birthday handsome." Suguru quickly bottoms out and stumbles over to the nearby bed where he collapses. Suguru stares up at the ceiling mirror, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths.
You slur, "Appybirrday!" Suguru dryly chuckles, sitting up slowly. Admiring your tired, tied up the body with Satoru's cock in your soft cunt.
He softly smiles. "Both of you are beautiful." He stands up as Satoru slowly pulls his cock out. Together they carefully untie you, softly scattering kisses on your thighs, stomach, tits, ass, and cunt.
Satoru cradles your soft body to his chest, he kisses your forehead. Suguru kisses your cheek, "Let's get clean and fall asleep cuddling. I want her soft cheeks on my cock while I fall asleep." Suguru dips his thick fingers into your soft cunt scooping out a mix of cum which he stuffs into Satoru’s mouth.
He groans “Fuck that tastes so good.” Following Suguru to the bedroom. Where Suguru gets the shower started and Satoru sets you down on the toilet to use it.
When you try to stand your legs quickly give before you can even fully make get on your feet. Satoru grabs his hips, and croons, "Aw can't walk princess?" He bends over, holding his finger up next to his face. "Whose help do you need?" He softly taps the tip of your nose.
"Please carry me around and help me get cleaned up."
Satoru wiggles his finger, "No I wanna hear you say we are yours again." Suguru nudges him to the side and picks you up.
He insists to Satoru, "Stop holding her hostage." He sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. Following Suguru and You into the large shower. Where Suguru holds you to him underneath the warm shower.
Satoru wraps his arm around both of you. He whines, "You're no fun! I just wanna tease our princess a little."
Oreo’s m.list! 💕
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lokissweater · 3 months ago
Text
sunday's 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚
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{yuta okkotsu x popular f!reader}
summary: yuta okkotsu has been in love with you since he started college— living in the shadows of your popularity as he watched from afar how your bouncy and genuine kind soul prospered and shined everywhere you went. but during one of his shifts at the 50s diner down the street from his campus, you walk in with you friends one sunday night and immediately bond over your shared love for elvis presley’s music, yuta stammering and fidgety at how pretty you are up close, and you falling fast for his pinky cheeks, sweet little words, and how he takes care of you every single day.
warnings: college!au, FLUUUFFF omg so cute, lovesick yuta he thinks you’re so prettyyy, no smut in this one!, popular reader, cursing, afab!reader, lots of mentions of elvis presley LOL, little bit of angst, clueless yuta, strangers to friends to lovers.
word count: 9.6k
authors note: THIS ONE HITS HOMEEE FOR MEEE AAAHHHH CAN YOU TELL I LOVE ELVIS PRESLEY? i live and breathe that man and oldies in general, so this is a love letter to him! :] this fic is all of my favorite things combined and it is SO FREAKING CUUTEEEE UGH i hope you all love it seriously <3333 MWAAHHH I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU—
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yuta okkotsu had never seen a girl so beautiful.
you were breathtaking, watching from afar, it was truly as if the world revolved around you in the most positive way yuta could think of.
you were popular— a beam of gorgeous light following you everywhere you went as you were always just enveloped by people and strangers and friends, them wanting to talk to you, wanting to get to know you, wanting you to better their lives because that’s what you selflessly liked to do for everyone without knowing.
and every time he’d walk in between lectures and spot you— feeling in the dumps if on certain days he’d miss your presence entirely, he’d just stare. stare with pink cheeks and softened eyes as you laughed and messed around with your friends or did extracurricular activities around campus, always giving a helping hand to those who needed it no matter the status.
that’s what yuta admired the most about you. you didn’t treat anybody differently just because they didn’t stand in the same level as you. you didn’t care about things like that, and you spoke to people with such fucking class and poise, that he always dozed off picturing how it would be like if he ever had the privilege of actually speaking with you.
that’s how most of his work shifts went at the diner after his classes.
he would wait tables or be in the kitchen, wipe down the windows or run the hostess stand… and you’d be on his mind— permanently there to torment him in the loveliest way he knew how.
and on one sunday night, you were unexpectedly there right in front of him at his job.
“hello?”
you waved a gentle hand over his face, and he snapped out of it immediately, cheeks pinky and bright, your friends snickering.
“yes! s—sorry.” he reached behind the hostess stand. “how many are with you?”
“four!” you responded sweetly, yuta having to swallow the huge lump in his throat as he officially saw your smile up close for the first time in his life— a gorgeous contrast to what it looked like from far away.
yuta quickly grabbed the corresponding menus and stepped to the side of the hostess stand, leading you and your friends through the empty restaurant and to a big booth— placing two menus down on each side of the table.
a series of elvis presley oldies (a personal pick from yuta) played through the jukebox in the middle of the diner while you and your friends scanned the menu, yuta fidgeting and anxious with his pen and notepad, waiting for you to order.
“do you have a favorite milkshake from here?” your kind voice spoke, looking up at him.
“uh— milkshake?”
your friends snickered again, but this time, you turned to them and shot them all a menacing glare.
“hey!— stop that you guys…” you shook your head at them and turned back to a red faced yuta, smiling apologetically. “i’m sorry! i’m really sorry.”
your friends only looked annoyed as they buried their faces in their menus or looked away entirely— yuta shaking his head softly.
“n—no it’s alright. um— i usually prefer this one-”
he timidly pointed his pen downward, the words ‘elvis shake’ reading from it.
“it has uh— vanilla ice cream with peanut butter and bananas.” he pursed his lips. “if… if you like that?”
“oh i’m a whore for anything with peanut butter in it!…” your hands spread flat across the menu as you leaned closer, yuta shyly laughing a little at your wording.
you looked up then, your eyes bright and excited and yuta doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him the way you were at that moment.
“is that why you like it? because of the peanut butter?”
“yeah! yeah definitely... m— mainly because of the name though.”
you stopped and your eyebrows furrowed. “elvis? do you listen to him?”
his cheeks buzzed. “do you?”
“y/n!” one of your friends harshly whispered to you from across the table. “are we here to chit chat or are we here to eat?”
“fuck okay! jesus—”
you and the rest of your group ordered, yuta nervously scribbling down the names of various platters and drinks before silently excusing himself to send the note off to the kitchen staff.
and when it came around to serving your food, placing each individual dish down for each person— yuta gently settled the elvis shake you got in front of you, adorned with baby pink sprinkles over a mountain of whipped cream with a cherry on top, something that yuta did extra for you out of the goodness of his infatuated heart, since it didn’t come with the drink in the first place.
he didn’t know why, but he could tell that the energy was different between you and your friends the second time he came around, and after hiding in the kitchen for the entirety of the time you were there instead of outside waiting tables like he was supposed to, by the third time he came back around— you were fighting with them.
he quickly retreated behind the bar and made himself look busy, guiltily eavesdropping as he picked up a random salt shaker and falsely examined it.
“i don’t understand why you guys can’t just be nice!” you pushed. “is having a normal conversation with somebody that funny? every time?”
“y/n you always talk to a bunch of rando’s of course it’s funny.”
“what the hell does that even mean?”
“it means it looks odd and you’re embarrassing yourself every time you skip around not being mindful of who you’re having conversations with!” one of them seethed, their tone judgemental and rude and one yuta didn’t like at all.
“like— like the server today! i’m pretty sure i’ve seen him around campus, he’s odd. why were you asking him about— about— who the fuck were you asking him about?“
“elvis.” you spat. “i was asking him about elvis."
“that guy! who cares? he works here why do you have to always talk to people like that—”
“like what?!” you threw your arms up. “like a normal decent human being would? i can see why you’d lack that.”
“excuse me?”
“yeah. and it sucks for you.”
“sucks for?— okay. i think we’re done here.”
“way fucking done.”
as each of them scooched out of the booth, yuta watched with wide panicked eyes while you stayed seated and silent, arms crossed over your chest and lips tight as you glared.
“i don’t know why everyone loves you so much…” one of them muttered. “there isn’t anything to you.”
and they all walked out, the bell above the door chiming as they did.
yuta’s eyes darted from you to the exit and to them through the window outside in the parking lot, watching fucking gobsmacked as they all got in one singular car and sped off, leaving you there by yourself and with the responsibility of the bill.
soft sniffles reached him, and he turned then, your body hunched over on the table as you cried with your head down, yuta’s heart aching for you.
he put down the random salt shaker he was holding and walked around the bar, slowly making his way towards your table.
“you don’t—”
you shot up startled.
“sorry! sorry—” he awkwardly scratched his pinky cheek. “i was just— gonna say you don’t have to pay the bill… i— i can—”
“oh! no you don’t have to do that.” you wiped your cheeks. “it’s okay i can pay it.”
“but they left you the entire bill.” he said softly.
“i know… it’s okay! really.” you smiled a little through your tears, the sight making his shoulders slump.
how you could possibly smile at a time like this was beyond him.
yuta started clearing the empty plates from your table when you spoke up again.
“i’m sorry you had to deal with their attitude...” you mumbled. “and my ugly crying.”
he smiled softly and shook his head. “no it’s okay. you shouldn’t apologize for them.”
“i should though…” you whined a little. “they were being mean the moment we got here and were just straight disrespectful.”
you leaned back against the plush of the booth and crossed your arms, muttering. “it’s not like they were my friends either..”
yuta quirked a confused brow, setting the last of the plates away in the kitchen before coming back around. “they weren’t?”
“nuh uh.” you shook your head. “i had just met them today actually, from a sorority event. i thought they were nice at first but i started noticing they were a little bitchy.”
“bitchy?” he laughed a little, his heart leaping like a little leap frog at the realization that it was just you and him at the diner alone, the cooks having already gone home seeing as it was past closing time for the diner.
“yeah…” you sighed deeply through your nose. “they weren’t being very nice to the other girls there either… and— and when they asked me if i wanted to come eat here with them i didn’t really want to go but—” you pursed your lips, a sheepish look on your face. “i have a hard time saying no to people so…”
yuta’s eyes softened, leaning back against the edge of the long bar table as he eyed how resilient you tried to come across but damn well knowing you were hurting inside by their actions, your cheeks still wet and your bottom lip in a slight pout.
“what they said to you wasn’t very nice…” he murmured. “i’m sorry they did that.”
you smiled warmly. “it’s okay. i get it here and there.”
his eyebrows furrowed. “here and there? what do you mean?”
“from other people that i meet.” you perked up slightly then. “do you wanna sit?” you signaled to the seat across from you in the booth and he stiffened, eyes wide and cheeks pink as he reluctantly scooched his legs over and sat across from you.
“they just get a little mad when i don’t do what they want me to do.”
“like be mean? like them?”
you shrugged a little, but the way your gorgeous eyes peered up at him indicated that he was right. “i suppose.”
“are all of your friends like that?”
“oh no! thankfully not…” you fiddled with your fingers on the table. “a lot of them are really sweet.”
yuta never thought about how something like this could be a possibility, as all he saw was how much you were loved and idolized and sought after by literally anyone who knew your name— but he missed the mark on the logistics of it. he should’ve known certain girls wouldn’t be in favor of you and desired what you didn’t have to work very hard for to get.
he saw how you wiped the remnants of your wet cheeks and sniffed, looking like you had at least recovered from crying but still a little dejected as you slouched over the table, eyes down.
“do you want… another elvis shake?”
you looked up. “what?”
“a—another shake. do you want one?” he stood slowly from the booth. “or i could get you ice cream? we just have vanilla and chocolate but—”
“oh no! it’s okay really i don’t want to freeload over what you have—”
he giggled a little. “you’re not freeloading. i’m offering.”
and before you could reject him again, he was already making his way to the kitchen— hands skillfully prepping his favorite milkshake like he’d done so many times before since the age of sixteen, and now skillfully and lovingly preparing it for you, the girl he’s adored since the moment he started college.
you stood and timidly followed after him, but instead of fully going into the kitchen, you stopped in front of the vintage burgundy jukebox and scanned the selection of songs.
“you won’t get in trouble?” you worriedly called over your shoulder. “i don’t want you to run into issues with your job…”
“no it’s okay!” you heard from the kitchen, glasses and silverware clinking together. “i’ve been working here since high school and my manager doesn’t mind. i usually um— close on sunday’s on my own too.”
the blender went off as you spotted your favorite elvis presley song on the list of selections, perking up and quickly digging into your purse for any stray quarters you magically hoped would appear inside.
yuta switched the blender off and unhooked it from the base, pouring out the frothy liquid into a fountain glass cup.
“you close on your own on sunday’s?” your head turned to where he was, catching little glimpses of him from the doorway as he moved to and fro. “the entire restaurant?”
“yeah…” he laughed awkwardly. “well— all of the time.”
“all of the time?!” you gawked, popping your head into the kitchen and accidentally scaring him.
“oh shit!—”
“sorry!” you giggled cutely. “i’m sorry…”
he laughed with you and waved you off. “it’s okay.”
yuta looked down and proceeded topping your milkshake with baby pink sprinkles again. “and yeah we’re kind of… understaffed right now. it’s just me and another kid.”
you hummed understandingly, watching the way he finished off your shake with two cherries on top instead of one like last time, making you softly smile in response.
he plopped a straw in. “here you go.”
“thank you!” you bounced excitedly on your little toes and he grinned, handing the glass over to you gently.
“i hope you feel better…”
your milkshake filled cheeks made him laugh as you paused and swallowed, the sweetest expression ever on your face as your eyes flickered to his name tag and back to him.
“i do yuta… thank you!”
the way his name rang off your tongue, something he never ever would’ve thought to hear come out of your mouth, to come out from you, sent him feeling lightheaded as fuck as he dropped his head down to hide his rosy cheeks, walking out of the kitchen as you followed after him.
you paused in front of the jukebox again.
“oh! i didn’t get to hear your answer from earlier.”
he picked his head up. “from earlier?”
“if— if you listen to elvis?”
“oh—” his gaze drifted to where you had your focus on the elvis presley selection panel on the machine. “i do! i love his music.”
you beamed, eyes lighting up so excitedly as you looked at him.
“oh my god i love him too! so much!”
“really?” he smiled. “do you— do you have a favorite song?”
“yeah! i have a lot...” you giggled shyly. “but i mainly like ‘always on my mind.’”
“that one’s a good one!” his smile grew. “i love that one too.”
“right?!” you stepped closer to him, and his face flushed. “and you? what about you?”
“i uh— i like ‘moody blue’…”
you gushed. “i like that one too!”
you loved the way his pinky cheeks bloomed and how kind he was— the way he tried his best to make you, a stranger, feel better with a cute little milkshake, his stuttering and fidgeting something that you found yourself adoring and only made your heart mushy with the weird need to pinch his rosy cheeks.
and he loved elvis.
“i’m glad you like him.” you hummed, running the pad of your index finger mindlessly over the smooth glittery surface of the jukebox. “people don’t really listen to him or oldies in general now.”
you gently set your nearly finished milkshake on the bar table as he nodded his head in agreement, thinking he couldn’t fall more in love with you over the fact that you actually liked one of his favorite artists. “i didn’t—expect you to either…”
you tilted your head. “really? why?”
“because—” he stammered, eyes darting around your breathtaking face. “well you’re popular. and pretty. and in a sorority. and i just—”
“oh— i see!” you smiled with blushing cheeks at his quick compliment, but it didn’t really reach your eyes. “i understand.”
“no but!—” your eyes stayed glued to the jukebox, and he worried that he might’ve accidentally offended you as he frantically tried to get his words together.
“i know it’s all stereotypes and assumptions so i’m— i’m sorry.”
“it’s alright!” you giggled softly. “i just don’t want you or anyone to get the wrong impression of me because of those things is all…”
your eyebrows pinched in thought, and he quickly shook his head.
“i’ve never!” he reached and placed a hand on your shoulder, your cheeks growing hot as he did so. “i’ve never gotten the wrong impression of you…”
“no?”
“no.”
you peered up at him. “what do you think of me then?”
“what do i—” he gulped. “what do i think?”
“yeah!”
“i think uh… you’re really nice.” he mumbled. “really nice. to everyone.. to me. doesn’t matter who honestly. and… you’re not afraid to say something if someone is being rude.”
yuta shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he avoided your gaze. “and you’re helpful… you put a lot of care into the things that you do, which are always never for your own benefit but for the benefit of others.”
he froze. “i— i see you around campus! a lot— so…”
your doe eyes were soft and filled with affection and warmth, the weight of his words settling into your mind as if they’ve always belonged there. as if he’s always belonged there.
you wrung your fingers behind your back then and leaned up on your tippy toes.
“you think i’m pretty?”
beautiful.
yuta hadn’t even realized that he had called you that until the moment you mentioned it again, his eyes widening as his wobbly lips tried to form coherent sentences for you.
“well— well who doesn’t...” he squeaked.
“but do you?” you leaned even closer, your cute smile nearly making him want to blurt out that he’s in love with you and that he’s maybe thought about you being the mother of his children from time to time.
“i— i do.” his eyes flickered back to yours. “i do.”
you bit your bottom lip and gleamed, giving into your impulses and reaching up to gently squeeze his flushed cheek.
“you’re so cute yuta…” you murmured, arm falling back to your side and eyes casting over the jukebox again.
and he nearly just about died.
“do you want a little donut?” he asked. “i— i can get it from the back—”
you and yuta spent literally the rest of the night until two in the morning chit chatting, playing various oldies tunes on the jukebox that conspired of mainly elvis presley, and yuta literally feeding you and giving you anything he possibly could just so he could watch the way you beamed at him every time he did— even when at one point you literally begged him that it was okay, your tummy absolutely filled with sugary sweets and drinks.
you even helped yuta close— disinfecting and wiping down all of the tables, sweeping the floors, triple shining the little elvis mural the diner had by the hostess stand, and organizing the menu’s for tomorrow’s shift.
in the midst of you wiping down the last of the big glass windows by the entrance with him, you thought of something.
“oh my god yuta—” your head snapped in his direction, his eyes widening at your sudden outburst.
“what if i work here?”
he stopped.
“work here?”
“yeah!” you nodded vigorously. “with you!”
he bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from screaming. “with me?”
“uh huh!” you chirped sweetly. “i would love to wipe down tables and listen to music with you everyday..”
yuta’s ears went red as he heard your soft voice say something so cute, wanting to literally run into the kitchen to the sink and dunk his face in sink water to cool off his boiling face.
“if that’s okay!” you sputtered. “am i being weird? am i freaking you out—”
“no! no not at all!” the corners of his lips curled, and he smiled, genuinely smiled. a big loving one that made his cheeks hurt with how hard he was doing it, and one that made your heart lightly flutter inside your chest at the way he was looking at you.
“i can talk to my manager.” he spoke gently. “i’m pretty sure he’ll take you.”
you bounced excitedly on your tippy toes, unexpectedly throwing your arms around him and landing a big fat kiss to his cheek.
“thank you thank you!”
yuta kept true to his word and talked to his manager the following day, who barely even had to think about it since he trusted yuta more than his own damn kids, waving him off and giving him the all clear to have you start the coming week.
“look look! do you likkeeyyy?”
you twirled around in your waitress uniform, the frilly pink fabric moving and swaying with every spin you made as he casually tried to bite down on his thumb in stupid restraint.
“it’s great!” he muttered, teeth locked around his thumb still. “you look great y/n.”
“thanks thanks!”
and you hopped over, giving him another quick kiss on the cheek before skipping away to the kitchen, him ecstatic as he’d been wanting another one so fucking badly again since the first time you did it— him biting down even harder on his thumb when you disappeared from view.
“why do you look like you’re about to shit yourself?”
yuta whipped around and saw his other coworker, yuji, the kid who shares shifts with him sometimes and spills everything and anything that comes out of his mouth without thinking twice about it, standing next to him with a clueless face.
yuji then wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. “is it the girl? the pretty one? the one with the big ass—”
“knock it off—” yuta shoved him away lightly and walked off, crouching down behind the bar counter and sorting through piles of rolled up silverware and buffet napkins.
“do you like her? yes or no?” yuji leaned against the edge of the bar.
his cheeks went pink.
“because if not i’m gonna go try y’know—”
yuta scoffed. “yuji you’re a freshman in high school and we’re in college. she’s in college—”
“okay maybe she likes them young? cougar moment?”
yuta looked at him absolutely horrified and bewildered. “you’re fucking insane—”
his reaction and response only made yuji double over in a fit of laughter, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath as yuta looked at him with an unamused face.
“i’m kidding! i’m just kidding i know you like her you’ve been red in the face the minute she clocked in—”
“what’s so funny?”
you popped your head in from the kitchen, making yuta jump again and yuji double over laughing like before, you giving yuta an apologetic look.
“i wanna laugh!” you pouted. “what happened? what’s funny?”
“yuta didn’t like the joke i made.” yuji quipped.
“well what was it? maybe i will!” you smiled sweetly.
“i said—”
“don’t say it!”
yuji ducked as yuta threw a kids menu at him.
“yuta has a cru—”
“shut the fuck up!—”
you covered your mouth with your hands in a little fit of giggles, the sound halting yuta mid throw to look at you with wide dreamy eyes— not wanting to miss the way you laughed and the way your nose crinkled with every hiccup.
yuji snickered and he shot him a glare before standing and walking over to where you stood.
“you don’t wanna hear it…” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with a buffet napkin. “it was freaking weird.”
you settled your giggles down and breathed, nodding cutely. “i’ll take your word for it, yu.”
yu.
“eeehh?! look y/n! look at his face!—”
“shut up!”
for the rest of the days and shifts that you spent together, yuta made it his mission to do things for you to hopefully earn him a sweet cheek kiss in return like last time, all while desperately trying to avoid yuji and his big ginormous annoying mouth actively corrupting some of his attempts on purpose.
yuta would try and bring you any kind of pastry he could give away to you without his manager knowing, or make you milkshakes randomly throughout your shifts or small BLT’s during lunch time to feed you, all for the purpose of watching the way you’d smile and hug him gratefully each time, and if he got lucky, a sweet kiss on the cheek.
“i don’t get it.” yuji shook his head during one of your shifts, him shuffling through a movie magazine on his break. “why don’t you just ask her for a kiss on the cheek? hm? i’d bet she’d do it! ooo better yet—” he looked at him with sarcastic laced excitement. “ask her out you little loser.”
yuta’s cheeks were hot as he listened, watching you from the kitchen take orders and scribble them down on a notepad.
“it’s been months yuta. months. i am in agony every day watching you follow her around like a lost puppy even though it’s the funniest thing i’ve ever seen.”
yuta rolled his eyes, but sent him a small sad smile. “can’t do it.”
“why not?” he whined. “she likes you too!”
“because she’s out of my league.” yuta pursed his lips. “and no i don’t think she likes me.”
“oh man—” yuji hunched over the sink, tossing his magazine to the side and gripping the rim in exhaustion. “she kisses your cheeks and hugs you and literally took this job because of you! what more proof do you want?!” he grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “a straight up confession?! a straight up kiss?!”
yuta’s heart accelerated at the thought as he pictured yuji’s words clear in his mind.
would you ever kiss him?… would you ever like him back?
“m—maybe?”
“what about school! do you guys not hang out or talk at school?”
“we do!” yuta perked up, but his shoulders quickly slumped. “we’re in different circles though so it’s always just for a little bit or casually.”
yuji groaned loudly and smacked a hand over his forehead. “it’s useless. you’re on your own man i tried i tried so hard i can’t help you—”
he continued to mutter under his breath as he picked up his backpack and walked out of the kitchen and out of the restaurant, the end of his shift drawing near as yuta laughed to himself over his words.
he appreciated how much yuji cared and how badly he wanted him to succeed, but even though his unrealistic expectations and hopes annoyed him most of the time as he blabbed on to him about them, yuta knew he was just a kid. so he valued it anyways.
“yu!” you spoke from behind the bar, him quickly rubbing his sweaty palms over his pants as he walked out of the kitchen to you.
“i’m so excited for tonight!” you smiled, your giddy little self practically bouncing off the walls in anticipation.
he laughed. “you’re excited to clean?”
“yup yup! i’m excited to clean with you.”
with him.
yuta adored sunday’s because that’s when you were both scheduled to close together on your own— just like the first time you did months ago, back when you weren’t working there yet.
there were no cooks, no yuji, no manager, and no customers. just you and him as you blasted elvis singles on the jukebox and got a sugar high from the ice cream machine as you wiped down tables and dusted off shelves— one time you literally slipping on the checkered tile by the entrance because you forgot you had just mopped the floor, yuta practically jumping over the bar counter to see if you were okay and him absolutely sick and worried over nothing as he showered you with more pastries and sweets to help you feel better.
that sunday night he got a kiss on the cheek.
so as you both bid the last customers a good night and got right to work, yuta considered yuji’s dumb words.
maybe he should just ask?
“if elvis was still alive i would probably sell myself to go see him.”
he let out a shocked laugh. “sell yourself? like prostitution?”
“mhm!” you hummed, wiping down the bar counter. “think about it— his tickets would probably cost like three thousand dollars. where the hell am i gonna get three thousand dollars? i’m broke and in college.”
yuta shook his head, his lips in an amused grin. “anything for elvis.”
“exactly!” you leaned over the counter excitedly, yuta on the other side with pink cheeks and a fuzzy feeling in his heart. “you get it. only you understand me.”
he laughed.
“i think it’d be cool if they brought him back as a hologram and did concerts that way.” yuta suggested.
you gasped incredulously as a hand flew to slap over your mouth. “yu! you little genius! oh my god i have to start pimping myself out now—”
yuta laughed again and shook his head. “don’t do that. we’ll find a way to get in.”
“we?!” you propped yourself up on the counter with your elbows and cupped his hands in yours, him stiffening with wide eyes and wobbly nervous lips. “you wanna go with me?”
“y—yeah.” he stammered. “of— of course…”
you squealed and nodded quickly, seemingly accepting the hypothetical proposal.
but then you settled down a little. your eyelashes slowly fluttering as you stared at him— a slow 50s love song statically murmuring through the jukebox adding to the atmosphere as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
but this time it was different.
it wasn’t quick and cutesy and one that yuta barely had time to bask over before you pranced away. it was slow, tender, and yuta could feel the way your soft lips touched his skin and left behind a burn as he let his eyes close at the blissful gentle feeling, him finally able to relish in the rarity of it before you slightly began pulling away, eyes twinkling.
“…do you still think i’m pretty?” you whispered.
he swallowed thickly, your face so close he could feel your breath fanning across his lips.
“i do.” he whispered back, eyes locked on yours. “very much so.”
you bit your bottom lip as you smiled, ever so slightly leaning closer and closer to him as your lips nearly brushed against—
riinnggg!
you quickly pulled away and ran to the back to answer the phone, leaving yuta sitting there swooning and nearly collapsing on the table, his hands cold from not being encased in your own soft hands anymore.
but most of all… leaving him confused. he didn’t know why you were leaning in like that.
“i’m sorry we’re closed for the day!… uh huh… we open at eight am tomorrow if—”
yuta could still feel the blaze your lips left behind on his cheek as you spoke on the phone, his hands coming up to rub his eyes as he tried to get his head back down from the clouds and simmer down the beating of his heart.
“someone wanted to come in right now!” you exclaimed, coming back over to your previous spot.
he furrowed his eyebrows. “right now? are you serious? it’s—” he spun around on the barstool and turned his head to the coca cola themed vintage clock on the wall. “it’s nearly twelve am?”
“i know!” you breathed out. “we closed four hours ago.”
“four?!—”
it dawned on the both of you how long you had been inside the diner, fully convinced it would’ve been longer if you hadn’t noticed.
so as the two of you mutually agreed to finish up and gather your things— the jukebox switched to an iconic elvis presley slow love song as you were just about halfway through the entrance double doors, eyes snapping to each other’s.
“aw i love this one…” you spoke softly, a little whine seeping through.
a small close lipped smile spread across his face. “i love this one too.”
“do you wanna—” you stopped.
his eyebrows pinched. “do i wanna what?”
“do you wanna… dance with meee?” you dragged out cutely, slightly bouncing on your toes.
“dance?” his eyes widened. “i— i don’t know how—”
“s’okay! i’ll teach you!”
you quickly pulled his hand and dragged him out, opening one door and jamming a door stopper underneath it so the music of the jukebox leaked out of the diner and through the empty street.
the pavement was a little wet from the morning rain as you took his hand again and pulled him to the middle of the dead empty street, the bottom of your shoes tapping and splashing a little with each tiny puddle you stepped in.
elvis presley’s voice softly hummed through the air, but it was loud and clear to the both of you as you gently took yuta’s hands and set them around your waist, his heart fucking palpitating and feeling like he was about to have a stroke when you wrung your arms over his neck and showed him that pretty smile he loved so much.
you both slowly stepped side to side, the air crispy and cold as your breath’s blew out foggy misty clouds due to the condensation, both of your noses and cheeks flushing red and buzzing warmly as you continued to slow dance— yuta’s grip slowly tightening until he was practically hugging you flush against his body.
out of anything that could possibly happen to yuta in his life, he wanted to remember this moment specifically— with you, dancing in the middle of the street listening to the man that essentially brought you both together in the first place, your beautiful beautiful face looking at him like he was the most important thing in your life… yuta wanting so badly for that to come true as he basked in this little made up scenario in his head that you were already his.
“yu…” you murmured.
he didn’t trust his voice.
“hm?”
“why haven’t you kissed me yet.”
what?
“kissed… you?”
“yeah..” you whispered, your bodies swaying. “don’t you like me?”
yuta let out a shaky breath. “i— i mean yeah… who doesn’t?”
your smile faltered. “i’m talking about you though…”
“oh. well you know i do. i’m sure a lot of other guys would want to kiss you.”
the song drawled to a gradual close and the jukebox reset, you both no longer swaying but still holding on to each other.
your eyes drifted to the side. “other guys?”
he pursed his lips, not really liking the thought of you kissing guys, but answering your question anyways. “yeah… other guys.”
his emphasis on other guys and not on himself left a bad taste in your mouth.
your eyes narrowed in confusion as you looked up at him, yuta a little shocked at your sad expression.
did he say something wrong?
“i thought—” you shook your head softly. “i thought you…?”
“…thought me what?” he cocked his head to the side, his genuine confusion solidifying his rejection in your eyes.
“i— i thought—”
your hands slipped from his shoulders and you stepped back, yuta sadly complying and letting his arms open and fall beside him as you rapidly blinked back tears, his eyes slowly widening once he caught it.
“hey— are you okay? what’s wrong?”
yuta went and reached for you, you backing away in response as you shook your head and gave him a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes at all.
“why are you crying? did i say something mean? i’m sorry—”
“no no i’m fine.” your voice was quiet and sad. “i think we should go home now.”
his shoulders deflated.
“are you sure? we— we usually hang out until at least one in the morning on sunday’s…”
you walked past him and towards the double doors of the diner, letting your tears slip in secret as you picked up your school bag and swung it over your shoulder, quickly wiping your cheeks before picking up his bag and giving it to him.
yuta thanked you and hoisted his backpack up on himself, ushering you gently to step to the side as he pulled the door stopper from beneath and placed it in its corresponding place by the entrance, letting the door close on its own before pulling out the keys from the pocket of his jacket and locking the diner up.
he did all of this— completely unaware to the way you were trying to quiet down your sniffles behind him.
you were so sure he liked you back… now you just felt a little stupid.
of course— the one genuine guy you came across that you actually liked out of all the others that you’ve met, one that wasn’t like the rest and was sweet and funny and caring and so so attentive of you… didn’t like you back.
the one thing you truly truly wanted, you simply couldn’t have— you walking ahead of yuta in silence through the parking lot with your arms crossed as you wondered if the way he treated you was literally just because that’s how he was as a person.
a good person at that. way too good for this world, and way too good for you.
yuta didn’t know why you were so quiet, his chest a bit achy at the absence of your usual cheerful voice.
when you reached your cars, you barely even bid him a proper goodbye like you always did before you got in your car and sped away, leaving a perplexed yuta standing alone in the parking lot— eyebrows pinched together in clueless concern.
you were acting so weird, and you unfortunately continued to do so for the following week.
the next time you came into the diner (which was literally the next day), yuta was taken aback by how bloodshot and sunken your eyes were when you came in for your shift, not saying a single peep to yuji and him when you walked through the kitchen or through the bar counter like you usually did… and it was weird.
through the bustling of the busy restaurant, it was oddly quiet to the two boys, simply because you weren’t your usual boastful self.
and you were hardly talking to yuta either… which pained him the most. you kept it strictly casual— as if you weren’t completely tied together every fucking day for almost a year now, you just completely casual about your day and about the things you had to do whenever he asked you, your one word dry responses sending him through the worst confusing and sadistic loop of his life.
but it wasn’t casual at all. nothing about you was casual. so why were you acting like this? did you finally maybe open your eyes and realize yuta was a big fat nobody who didn’t belong with a girl like you?
yuta nearly cried at the thought. perhaps you had finally realized that.
but how fucking cruel was it that he lived a year of love and beauty and everything that was just you, getting a taste of what it would be like to live a life where you thought of him as something really special and a life where you wanted to basically do everything with him— only to be ripped away from him overnight? with no explanation?
by wednesday, yuta was dead inside.
you didn’t seem to want to do anything with him anymore like before. you didn’t excitedly jump and squeal and bounce on your little toes when it was time for the both of you to clean during your shift or restock the ice cream machine. you didn’t talk to him about elvis anymore or about another ludicrous idea on how to resurrect him from the dead— you didn’t smile like you used to whenever he tried to give you a small pastry, actually rejecting it instead, and you didn’t kiss his cheeks anymore.
by friday, yuji was fed the fuck up.
“what the fuck did you do?!” he whispered harshly at him from the bar, you somewhere in the diner taking orders. “that woman is like a walking zombie. her eyes have been red like red since monday, and she’s not yapping about elvis anymore.”
yuta leaned against the counter with a flat palm to his forehead in worry, feeling like he was gonna be fucking sick over you.
“i— i don’t know.” he stuttered. “i truly don’t know i don’t know what i said that’s making her act like that.”
“okay run it back for me run it back.” he placed both hands on his shoulders and roughly pulled yuta to face him. “explain to me again what happened on sunday.”
“we were closing…”
“uh huh?”
“she wanted to slow dance in the street so we did…”
“okay cute i love that part okay keep going..?”
“and then she asked why haven’t i kissed her—“
“she what?!” yuji choked, “you didn’t tell me this part! you fucking jumped to the parking lot!”
“my bad…” yuta muttered.
“shit— whatever keep going.”
“she also said that she thought i liked her and i said who doesn’t… and then i told her i was sure other guys would want to kiss her.”
“you said other guys?”
yuta’s eyebrows pinched. “yeah?”
“you. said…” yuji repeatedly slowly. “other. guys.”
“yes i did—”
“oh you’re done.” he rapidly shook his head. “i can’t help you i’ve done all i can you’re my buddy and i love you but i cannot take this anymore—”
“woah woah slow the fuck down—” he narrowed his eyes. “what’s so bad about what i said?”
“you rejected her.”
“what? no i didn’t—”
“yes!” yuji nodded frantically. “yes you did you freaking dingus! yuta she wanted a kiss from you a kiss! she literally said ‘when are you going to kiss me!’”
“i thought she was joking about that?” he answered softly.
“i might die early if you don’t figure this out right now.” yuji spat. “when you said other guys, she took it as you saying you’re sure other guys would want to kiss her and not you! do you understand what i’m trying to say?!”
yuta stayed silent.
“you said ‘i’m sure other guys would wanna kiss you,’ which is you indirectly saying ‘i’m sure other guys would wanna kiss you but not me.’ emphasis on others—”
“holy fucking shit.”
why was yuji kind of smart?
“oh thank god!” yuji breathed out, throwing his hands up in the air before clasping them together and looking up at the ceiling, his eyes screwed shut as he shook his interlocked hands and prayed.
“thank you! thank you elvis presley for finally making him see what a dumbass he’s been this entire year especially this moment your music has never been better—”
yuta shoved his fingers through his hair, his eyes bulging open. “holy fucking shit what the fuck did i do?!”
you walked past the bar just then and they both shot their arms down and tried to appear as nonchalant as humanly possible, you not even sparing them a glance as you walked over to the kitchen and disappeared from view.
“oh you have got to fix this.”
yuta spent the rest of the week trying to devise a plan to ease into the situation and have a conversation with you about it, but doing it fucking poorly as he miserably couldn’t come up with anything and yuji having even worse ideas— going as far as to suggesting he kidnaps you and takes you to elvis presley’s home in graceland and apologize there, yuji calling it a ‘grand gesture.’
by sunday, yuta was grasping at straws.
you slowly looked up from the bar as you saw a little sprinkled donut pastry slide across from the other side, your stinging eyes locking with yuta’s and feeling an immediate colossal pang through your chest when you saw him.
“you um—” yuta sighed softly through his nose. “you haven’t had a donut from here in a while…”
“oh.” your eyes stayed glued to the pastry. “thank you but i’m alright. i’m not that hungry right now.”
yuta bit his tongue. “please.”
he wasn’t pleading for you to eat the damn donut, but he pathetically couldn’t get the words out properly either.
“i don’t want it i’m okay.”
“why not?” he pushed. “you love donuts. you haven’t accepted my milkshakes either and you love those too.”
“i got sick of them.”
yuta froze.
you sounded like a completely different person at the moment, and yuta knew that your words held an entirely different meaning to them— his heart literally throwing up all over his insides in distress.
it was near closing time, the last pair of customers just about finishing up their meal as you both stared solemnly at the uneaten donut.
“are you—” yuta cleared his throat. “are you mad at me?”
the customers called you over then, and you quickly pushed yourself off from the edge and walked over as yuta heard your kind customer service voice from somewhere in the diner finalizing the bill for them, the bell above the door chiming as they left— you coming back around to stand back on the other side of the bar.
“sorry what did—”
“are you mad at me.”
you shook your head, eyebrows pinched. “no. why would i be mad?”
“are you upset with me?”
you hummed a no.
yuta wanted to rip his hair out at the fact that he couldn’t fucking think of what to say to you— not wanting to accidentally say something that could offend you like last time without him even knowing, as he didn’t trust his mouth for shit.
“you haven’t looked okay since last sunday.” he murmured. “you don’t look happy around me anymore.”
you pulled your lips into a thin line and pressed hard, already feeling tears threatening to spill.
“it’s just school. it’s tough at the moment.” you mumbled.
“you’re lying.”
you slightly snorted. “okay thanks.”
“no— fuck i did it again.” he screwed his eyes shut. “i know you’re upset with me and i know you’re mad at me. you don’t talk to me as much, you don’t— you don’t take any of the sweets and drinks i give you when you always do, and you refuse to talk to me about elvis.”
“it’s school yuta i don’t know what else to tell you.”
he groaned and pushed himself off the bar, swiftly making his way around the counter to stand right in front of you as your pretty red eyes widened, your body immediately fidgeting.
“please… i miss you.” he mumbled, and your bottom lip started to wobble. “i miss when you wanted me around.”
“i— i do want you around.” you said, so so softly he could barely hear you.
“then please tell me what you’re feeling.”
you brought your hands up and pressed your fingers into your eyes, trying your absolute hardest to keep the tears inside as your body trembled.
“it’s all me it’s not you so— so please don’t worry about it it’s school and— and—”
“i love you.”
you paused.
yuta shakily pried your fingers away from your eyes, holding them in his hands as silent tears escaped down your cheeks.
you shook your head. “no you don’t. you’re just saying that—”
“i love you.”
“stop it you’re being mean i don’t need you to tell me you love me because you feel bad for me—”
you tried to tear your hands away but his grip only tightened as he shook his head and wrung you in, pressing your hands flat over his heart and holding them there as he leaned and pushed his lips to yours, the taste and feeling of you complete fucking paradise as he hoped that the weight of his lips were conveying how much he truly fucking loved you, how much he truly needed you in his life and how much he wanted you to treat him like he was something to you again.
he was tired of you carrying around the missing half of him, but not because he wanted you to give it back.
he wanted you to keep it. he wanted you to keep it forever and ever and not let it dangle over ineptly like you’d done for the past week. he wanted you to kiss it and shove it next to your heart and keep it there snug where it belonged until the day that he died.
the jukebox murmured another soft 50s tune, you slowly but surely letting your tense shoulders relax as you allowed your lips to move against his, your heart screaming and zooming through your bones at the fact that this man was kissing you like you’d wanted and dreamed for him to do so badly for the past year.
you both slowly pulled away with your lips quietly smacking apart, your stunning face finally looking at him the way you always did, the way you used to, even if it was a little timid still.
“are you lying?” you murmured.
his eyes softened as he gently shook his head.
“absolutely not.”
“but you rejected me.”
he sighed through his nose, his hands still pressing yours over his heart as you felt it beat rapidly under your palms.
“i— i didn’t mean to. i swear to god i didn’t mean to.” he gently dropped his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “i was being stupid and worded everything wrong. but— but i’m telling you now that i wanted to kiss you… so fucking bad. you’re too pretty for me so i honestly thought i just didn’t stand a chance…”
you couldn’t believe it.
“i don’t want other guys to kiss you.” he continued. “not at all… just me.”
“just you?” you murmured, and he nodded against your forehead.
“just me.” he propped his chin on the top of your head. “i’m sorry i hurt you and made you cry.”
“no yu…” you spoke gently. “i’m sorry too. and i’m sorry i said i was sick of the sweets you give me… i was lying i love them.”
he chuckled softly.
“it’s okay… i know.” yuta gently caressed your fingers with his thumbs. “but i love you pretty.”
“i love you.” you whispered, and you slid your hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him down in a warm embrace as he copied and pulled your body to his so so tightly, your hearts beating in time with one another as he felt his fingertips go numb at your confession, kissing your soft little cheeks over and over and over again until he got giggles out of you.
yuta loved sunday’s… and so did you.
and when he asked you to be his girlfriend that same night while standing over the jukebox, staring at the elvis presley song selection like you’d done many times together before in the past, yuta for the first time realized that he hadn’t felt alone since the moment you came into the diner with your mean friends— finding himself actually thanking them in his head for that, realizing that if they hadn’t then you probably would’ve left with them and he would’ve never gotten the chance to speak to you that night.
the next time you both came into work, you back to your usual jumpy self as you took every pastry that yuta gave you again and babbled about elvis and how you were gonna spend your hypothetical prostitution money on a flight to memphis to see his grave and pay your respects, yuji was elated.
“what happened?! you have to tell me what happened come on you can’t keep it from me i’m just a boy—”
you skipped into the kitchen then and smoothly walked in between them, pressing a gentle cute peck to yuta’s lips before grabbing what you needed from the back and walking back out, yuji’s mouth flinging open and his jaw hitting the fucking floor.
“how— what— when— where—”
you stepped back in after a second and bounded over next to yuta, his eyes soft as he watched you lean your head on his shoulder.
“what?” you asked. “what’s wrong yuji?”
“oh god no!” he wailed, dramatically throwing an arm over his eyes in agony. “i thought this is what i wanted but it’s not! i want a kiss like that man!”
he flew to his knees in front of you and took your hand in his. “y/n why can’t you just wait for me please?! wait five years you’re so pretty i won’t confuse you like this dingbat and i’ll give you better sweets and milkshakes than him please!—”
yuta took your hand and slapped yuji’s away. “you freak stand up man the floor is dirty—”
“i need a popular gorgeous girlfriend like you yuta! how could you do this?! i thought we were brothers?! what spell did you cast?! have you ever learned jujutsu?! what have i done!—”
your manager popped his head into the kitchen and you all stiffened.
“yuji why are you crying? everyone outside can hear you, kid.”
yuji flew to his feet and shook his head. “m’not crying sir. everything is fine just fine and dandy sir.”
“okay… well can you check on your tables? leave yuta and y/n to work.”
“yes sir i’ll check on them sir.”
your manager nodded, muttering something about today’s generation as he left and went back inside his office, yuji walking out of the kitchen shortly after with his head down as you both tried your hardest to keep your laughter in, hands tightly clasped over your mouths and silently snickering to keep yuji from hearing it on the other side.
“p—poor him.” you heaved, a hand over your chest. “i hope— i hope he finds his ‘popular girlfriend’ when he’s older.”
“i wish her luck.” he muttered, and your hand slapped back over your mouth again as you burst into another fit of giggles alongside him.
yuta sheepishly outstretched his arms for you once you both settled down, you perking up excitedly with a cutesy little grin as you skipped into them, your arms wrapping snug around his torso as he brought his around your shoulders and squeezed, earning a tiny squeak from you that made him laugh.
he hoped to god he wasn’t dreaming.
yuta started shifting his weight from one to the other, gently moving and swaying you side to side in the kitchen as you giggled and let him lead you like that.
“you slow dancing yu?” you murmured softly, head coming up to give him a kiss on the cheek as he blushed.
“yeah..” he hummed. “i like it when we do.”
“i do too yu… it’s like our little thing! we’re so vintage.”
he snorted, and a charming beautiful smile spread across your face— one that made him wonder how he ever managed to land you when all he did was wait tables and stutter foolishly and wasn’t anyone particularly special like you were.
but you. you were everything. everything and way fucking more as you looked at him like he built the diner himself brick by brick for reasons he still couldn’t understand why.
yuta spoke after a moment.
“…what do you think of me?” he murmured suddenly, cheek mushing up against the side of your head as your brows furrowed.
“what do i think of you?” you asked, your perplexed face slowly shifting to one of realization as it dawned on you how yuta was reiterating your words to him from when you first met.
he grinned. “yeah.”
you pulled back to face him.
“i think you’re kind… you always have been even when i didn’t deserve it.”
his jaw dropped. “what? didn’t deserve it?—”
“i’m not finished!” you pouted, and he playfully rolled his eyes as he shut his lips.
“you’re too good to me yu…” you sighed a little. “you’re so helpful and selfless, and even when things piss you off you still take the time to appreciate them… like yuji.”
you both snickered then, and yuta brought his head down and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.
“i love the way you love, yuta. i love the way you love me and take care of me and always feed me…” you giggled. “without me ever having to ask.”
you felt his arms tighten around you.
“don’t ever think that you aren’t special to me or anyone or i’ll kill you and go to graceland without you.”
he laughed loudly in your neck and pulled back, half lidded ditzy loving eyes staring back as he leaned in and kissed you— gentle and delicate, his hands coming up to cup your warm cheeks.
“jesus man table nine would not stop asking me for— oh god no!”
you and yuta jumped apart, yuji immediately wailing and crying again as he flung himself to the floor on his knees.
“really?! in my kitchen?! in front of my face?! how cruel can you be yuta?! y/n can you maybe give me a ki—”
yuta leaned down and smacked him upside the head.
“owwwuhh! what’s wrong with just one little kiss man?!—”
“cut. it. out!—”
and just like always, the week came and went, sunday fast approaching as the day eventually came to close the diner together like lovely clockwork— wiping down tables and sweeping the floors, organizing the menu’s and restocking the crayons for the little kids, gulping down milkshakes with yuta like water as you worked…
but most importantly— sharing long kisses in between each sweeping rotation, kissing and pinching his cheeks repeatedly whenever he asked or did literally anything, and slow dancing to the same 50s love song that played when you first tried to kiss him at the bar that one night, swaying together in a silly way and giggling whenever you’d both nearly topple over to the floor— yuta beaming and lovesick as he looked down at your gorgeous smile and your gorgeous face… it gleaming with so much purpose, so much pure love and importance and value for him as you danced—
that yuta decided he wanted you to keep the other remaining half of him too.
forever.
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this! is the song that was playing when reader was about to give yuta a kissy kissy on the bar counter, and again at the end if you’re curious :3 it was playing when i wrote it and it literally fit so well and lifted my entire body and spirit and i felt like i was THERE MAN! <333
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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs
(HATE when tumblr doesn’t let me tag some of yall i don’t know why it does that!!)
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soft4gguk · 3 months ago
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yearning | jjk one shot
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the one that finds you in Jungkook's doorstep after a night out...
Description: idol!jungkook x reader, fwb 
Content: porn with loads of plot!
Word Count: 7.5k
Warnings: oc smokes 1 cigarette lol, they’re so flirty ouch, so much kissing, cutest little dynamic, dry humping (a personal fave in this house), fingering, protected sex (they’re so smart!!), loads of spanking, jaykay ass man forever. 
Author’s Note: i once sworn to never write idol aus because… i know nothing about this man ok? i do not claim to know what he’s like in a relationship or a situationship or in his personal life!! so please thread carefully when reading <3333 that being said, his lives last year and these first couple of episodes of “are you sure?” have me feeling very delulu so here u go!! hope you enjoy xo
★ masterlist ★
This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x
The moment you exit the club, a gust of summer breeze engulfs you. It makes you wrap your arms around your body, but it amounts to nothing, the little black dress that you’d made the executive decision to wear, in the name of fashion, betraying you. The tequila shots you'd downed before leaving the house sure had deceived your senses, too.
Needless to say, you regret said decision, a shiver running down your spine all the way to your legs, making you jump a little in place as you tipsily look around you. You’d cut the night short. Your friends had found another lonely pair they’d quickly gotten cozy with, leaving you to drink one too many gin & tonics all by yourself. You hadn’t minded it for the first two hours, enjoying the music, sparking conversation with the bartender from time to time and entertaining the occasional stranger. Eventually though, it became boring, predictable, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel a little shitty about yourself. 
It was all getting repetitive. Friday nights, the same faces, small talk, ice breakers. Even the strangers you met had a similar M.O., making it all seem predictable. It made it feel like a waste of self, more than a waste of time, and it ate at you in moments like these, where it was strange to feel lonely amongst a sea of people, unable to shake the feeling.
The bright city lights illuminate the night, lacing it with something livelier than your mood and you smile. At least the scenery is always pretty. Pretty places. You hear the laughter of a group of people that stand a couple of feet away from you, they seem happy in that genuine way that reflects in pure, unadulterated beauty. Pretty people. 
You think of him. 
It’s rather instant. Or perhaps instinctive. The very own butterfly effect of your thoughts because to you, he’s the prettiest of them all. He’d been since the very first day, and as you lose focus of the pretty sights the more you stare into the city lights with him on your mind, you can’t help but think nothing will ever stand close. 
A girl stands next to you, audibly shivering as she exits the club and the air greets her with the same fate it did you. She holds a cigarette between her red lips, the fire from her pink lighter shining on her red hair. It makes you crave one, too, rummaging through your bag for your own. You smile when you remember how he would tease you for smoking “the skinny kind” as he would call them. Calling you a bit of a snob, but all in lighthearted nature. After all, he could. He knew you enough to let your closeness turn into inside jokes, banter. 
Perhaps giving into a vice could prevent you from falling into another. 
“Can I borrow your lighter?” she smiles at you before she’s handing it over. Her nails are pink, too. 
The fire feels pleasant for all of five seconds, warm against your face as you take the first drag. You give into one instinct so as to distract yourself from the one that’s tugging at your heart and senses, begging you to make a reckless call. 
You check the time. 
2:32 A.M.
~
Jungkook scrolls through the endless list of channels aimlessly. Small snippets from whatever’s playing that he cuts short, not really giving it much thought. He settles on one, solely so he can stop putting exertion on his thumb and go back to leaning against his couch – fully relaxed. He sighs. On the screen, some drama he hasn’t gotten around to watching plays, and the story seems to be developing quickly. He doesn’t care for it, if he’s honest, simply content with the white noise it fills the room with. 
Bam leaves his dog house, standing right in front of him and they seem to start an unspoken staring contest. He smiles, patting the spot right next to him on the couch and the pup rushes to take the place excitedly. He gets cuddles and kisses simply for existing. For keeping him company – his presence giving Jungkook more peace than he’ll ever know. 
“Hey, Bam, should we, like, meet up in our next life as well? Perhaps I’ll be the dog in that one and you’ll be my owner.”
Bam simply stares and Jungkook swears if he could, he’d let out a deep sigh right now. This makes him laugh. 
“Hey, don’t be jumping of excitement at the idea, man.”
At this, he attacks. With kisses, that is – wet, sloppy kisses that have Jungkook giggling and pushing back, though it is no use, his dog is that determined to give him love.
“Alright, you win. Let’s go get a beer. For me, not for you. You’re still too young. One day, son.” His voice takes on a lower tone, imitating his father. Or maybe Yoongi’s, he can’t tell anymore. 
He retrieves a cold beer mug from his freezer and cracks the can open, nodding his head at the sound it makes, the fizziness bubbling up before he pours it in the cold glass. He takes a sip as he walks back to the couch, blissed out in leisure.
He doesn’t mind being alone, specially not on nights like this when sleep leaves him and everything but seems more tempting. He likes the way everything slows down at this time of day, the ease of it all. No one to see, no texts to reply to. As for what the world is concerned for, he’s asleep. It’s peaceful, just being. 
Plopping down on the couch, he rests against the pillows, making himself comfortable. He must’ve spoken too soon, he thinks, because it’s not thirty seconds after this that his phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of him. He ponders on the possibility of simply ignoring it, let it sit there, facing down. But something tells him he should check the message. It could be important, or not. The pull isn’t necessarily violent, just a quiet voice that tells him so, like a little nudge. He leans forward, setting his beer on the table before he’s taking a hold of his phone. 
He gets it now – the pull. 
From ___: jungkookie, u awake?
To ___: no
From ___: can I call?
He smiles – so fucking big he almost hates that he does, slightly flustered and embarrassed you have this quick of an effect on him. And before he can talk himself out of it, he calls you. 
~
Seeing his name flash on your phone screen does more to you than anything you’ve deemed exhilarating tonight. The simple prospect of hearing his voice rushes more excitement through your body than any of the mindless conversations you had this evening. Than any of the conversations you’ve had all week perhaps. You smile and there’s no doubt that he can hear it in your voice when you say,
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
There’s a moment of silence and you can hear the smile on his face, too. It’s warmth – he’s warmth, even far. How far is he, you wonder. Did you happen to demand of him at a bad time? Will the end of this call find you disappointed?
You cut to the chase. 
“What are you up to?”
There’s a pause and you can hear the way he sinks into his couch. “Can’t sleep so I’m having a beer and watching some TV with Bamie.”
He’s home and a giddy giggle escapes you. “Ahh,” you say.
“You? It sounds busy in there.”
“Yeah, I’m outside the club.”
“Fun night?”
“No.” You don’t lie, you never lie to him. Don’t have the need to, or the want to. Everything about Jungkook is comfort – the kind that welcomes. 
“Yeah, had a feeling. It’s not really your scene, is it?”
Your head leans to the side, eyes closing for a moment. He knows you in ways most people don’t, and it’s a simple remark but it gets to you. The fact that he doesn’t see you for the parts of you that feel the emptiest settles on your heart. It’s good, you think, to be seen by someone who observes.
“I want to see you.” There’s all the point in the world to be honest right now. 
“Come over. I’ll make you ramen.”
“Will you show me your cat?”
There’s a pause. You picture him smiling, biting his lip, running a hand through his hair. 
“Yeah, that too.”
~
You sway from side to side, a little drunkenly and a whole lot excited, as you stand in front of his door. It’s brief, but as you wait you make a little reflection on your emotions. What exactly do you feel right now? It’s been so long – probably not that long – but long enough to make you happier than usual to be seeing his face. Anyone else would make you nervous, and perhaps he does, too, if only a little. But it’s a different kind of nervous. It’s laced with sweetness, as opposed to anxiety. And the minute he opens his front door, it’s replaced by something sweeter. 
Yearning. 
He stands there, glasses and black sweatpants on, signature oversized shirt – something so very home about him. Your eyes widen as you take in his hair, it’s grown significantly, giving you a rough idea of when it was you last saw him. Two, three months ago. He looks good; rested, fresh, beautiful. You can smell him before you even touch him and it makes you smile. He returns it. 
Yeah – yearning. 
“I like your hair,” you say, because anything else would give you away. 
“Yeah?” he runs a hand through it. “I like you.”
“I like you, too.” Let it give you away, you think. Who cares?
“Alright, well- it was nice seeing you.” He says, closing the door in a too casual, yet dramatic manner and you laugh, simply standing there – a little flustered because, oh does it feel good when Jeon Jungkook flirts with you in that boyish, teasing way only he knows how. 
He doesn’t close the door all the way. Instead, he leaves it open far enough for you to see the way he peeks his head out, nose scrunch and toothy smile to signal just how proud he is of himself right now. 
“Come here,” he tells you, reaching his hand out from the little gap and pulling you closer as you yelp, squeezing through the nearly closed door. “I missed you.”
You’re in his arms again, and the moment he closes the door behind you, his lips are on yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that says I missed you because you know him well enough by now to understand the things he says with his lips, and his eyes. With his hands, too.
“Mm,-“ you don’t want to pull back to get your words out, so you don’t. “Me more.”
Jungkook was always a happy coincidence – or at least that’s what you told yourself in a futile attempt to tame the feelings down. But the truth was that being back in his arms felt like fate, in that gentle way that doesn’t come in a movie-like encounter or in some sort of catastrophe bringing you together. Just being here. Anywhere, with him, felt fateful. You opt to believe in angels right this second just to thank them. 
“How are you,” his hand cups your cheek, pecking your lips before you can answer. 
“Good- better now.” His kisses muffle your words and you think you could live with this interruption for the rest of your life. 
“Yeah, me too.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as he circles his around your middle. You take him in, not one for big displays of affection yet this one you could never deny, could never not welcome. 
It’s a sweet moment but the pull turns hasty soon enough the more your lips become familiar with one another yet again. You run your fingers through his long hair, rejoicing in its softness and length. His hand travels down, slowly but a bit desperately, squeezing when they meet your ass. 
What has a promising ending is cut short by none other than your rumbling stomach. It’s rather loudly and you both hear it, laughing in the middle of the kiss you two seem to refuse parting from. 
“You hungry, baby?”
“You promised ramen. And something about a cat.” Your lips part and you look at him, a pretty smile on his equally pretty face. 
“Mm, yeah. I did. I’m all stocked up on ramen but the cat…,”
“I prefer Bamie anyways.” 
You leave his arms, a smile on your face as you walk towards his beloved child’s crate. The moment he sees you, he hesitates for a moment, not yet having Jungkook’s command to leave his space but he’s excited – you can even make up his little tail wagging from side to side. 
“Come here, baby.”
He runs to you and nearly tackles you, settling into the floor to give him the proper cuddles he deserves. He steps on you the way he did when he was a puppy, sitting down on your knees as you scratch under his ears. 
“No one’s allowed to tell him he’s grown up. He’s little forever.”
Jungkook laughs. “He’s Jiminie’s height.” 
You sneer at him, shaking your head at his joke. He stands there, staring at you with a fondness he reserves for certain things that bring him that kind of comfort that’s gotten rarer over the years. He’s grown up, matured and gotten real about a lot of things but not you.
Never you. 
You’re still the innocence he kissed you with that very first time and the little bit of fear it wouldn’t go further than that. You’re the excitement he had when it did. You’re the flirty teasing and the falling in trust, opening himself little by little. You’re still something he once dreamt about – he still does. You’re the thing he has and doesn’t at the same time. You’re you. 
Your loud giggles as Bam licks your cheek wake him up from his little daydream and he winces at the sloppy kisses he’s leaving. You don’t seem to mind though and he knows that if it were up to you, you’d stay there til dawn. No ramen, no cat. 
“Alright, alright. Daddy’s getting jealous now. You can’t have her all to yourself.”
Your cheeky smile tells him you’re up to no good. “Daddy, huh? Have we ever tried that?”
“What haven’t we tried?” He genuinely ponders on his own question. 
“Pegging!” You say, a little too quickly and excitedly for his liking. 
“Absolutely not.”
“Mean.”
“Come on, let’s feed you.”
You smile. “Okay, daddy.”
~
It’s a chaos in the kitchen in between distracting kisses and your tipsy antics, munching on Jungkook’s leftover fried chicken as you scavenger hunt his cupboards for anything that could satisfy your alcohol induced need for sweets and carbs. You’d begged for pancakes, but he didn’t have any honey, and what’s pancakes without honey, really? 
“Ramen. Enoki and spring onions.” He says, convincing himself more than he convinces you.
“Okayyyyy. Ramen, enoki- what else did you say?”
His thumb and pointer finger rest at his temples in mock exasperation, making you giggle. “Hey, why don’t you go shower? This’ll be ready when you’re done.”
“Will you be able to work a knife with the thought of me all wet and naked in your shower?” 
“I’ll get you wet and naked later. Go sober up. Quick, quick!”
You laugh, kissing his cheek loudly and ruffling his hair before you leave the kitchen, making your way to his bedroom with familiarity - like you’ve done it hundreds of times and perhaps you have if you were to count. 
You know where he keeps the towels, that it’s the left tap that opens the hot water, the way his soap smells and what brand of shampoo he uses. His face wash and moisturizer are familiar to you because it’s the same brand you use. You’d left them here once and never got the bottles back. He began purchasing them after they ran out. 
You put on the same black Carhartt shirt you always do. It feels and smells the same. It makes you yearn and when you miss him, you smile in the comfort of knowing he’s in the kitchen, probably eating ramen from the pot as you take your sweet time in the bathroom. 
All clean and cozy, his house always being the perfect temperature with the add on warmth that swarms your insides at knowing you’re with him, you make your way back to the kitchen. He’s reaching for bowls, back to you and your voice startles him when you say,
“Don’t get dishes dirty, let’s eat from the pot.”
He turns to you, a boyish smile forming on his lips at the sight of you in his comfy, oversized shirt. He’s seen you in it more times than he can count but it still makes his insides tingle. Butterflies, dare he say, is what the sight gives him. 
“You sure?”
“Aren’t you? Afraid of exchanging saliva?” You poke your tongue at him and he grabs your wrist, pulling you swiftly towards him. 
“Not the funnest way we’ve exchanged juices, but it’ll do for now.”
“Juices.” Your nose scrunches at his words.
“Mm.”
He kisses you, ramen getting cold in the pot as your lips make him forget all about his hunger in the first place. Your stomach doesn’t, though. Interrupting your heated little moment yet again. 
“Feed me.”
“On your knees, then.” He teases, lips still on yours. 
“That sounds more like a treat than a threat.”
He smiles, passing you the chopsticks. “I knew you’d say that.”
“Am I that predictable?”
“With me. Yes. Just me.”
His words are selfish, of this much he’s aware. He knows exclusivity is too much to ask for. He knows the baggage he comes with and the hesitation that shines through your eyes whenever you find yourselves slipping into comfort and familiarity a little too much. How he can almost tell he’s about to go a season without you, just by this comfort alone. But he can’t help but want you, all to himself. He can’t help but say you’re his even if he’s just saying it. And when the smile on your lips meet your eyes in an almost nostalgic way, he knows you feel the same. 
“Yeah. I am.”
“I am with you, too.”
“I’d say I tried to talk myself out of texting you tonight, but I’d be lying.” Your chopsticks play with the noodles, eyes not meeting his. 
“Why would you talk yourself out of texting me?”
You shrug. 
“Don’t.” His voice is firm and your eyes finally look at his. “I’m always- I always want to see you, ___.”
“I know, it’s just- you know.” You say, and he does. He knows what you mean and he’s glad you don’t voice it because he doesn’t think he can bear the words that would only add insult to injury to the way your gaze falls, that spark threatening to dim its light.
“Yeah,” he gets closer, but it’s almost careful. His thumb caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch. “But you’re here now. I want you here now. Come back to me.”
You stare into his big eyes, smiling at him not because your heart isn’t breaking but because you wouldn’t dare break his with the reality of the situation. So you lie, but it holds truth. “I’m always with you.” 
As you two eat, in bursts of comfortable silences and mindless yet meaningful conversations, you start to get used to him again. You’re too tired to fight it, and when you welcome it, it’s sweet. 
~
The pot is empty, your bellies full. You lean against the counter as he puts you to date, catches you up on what his life has looked like for the past two months or so. Trips to L.A., New York, photoshoots, late nights in the recording studio, music videos, long flights and a Calvin Klein campaign you shamelessly admit to swoon over every time you pass by it. He asks about you and you keep your updates mostly work related. Long flights, long meetings, long days. Short bursts of inspiration and even shorter waves of motivation. You omit to tell him about the things you’re maybe not so proud of. The partying, the drinking on a wednesday night, the way your friends don’t feel like your friends anymore, more like acquaintances that keep you around when they deem convenient. You think his words could help, provide comfort and advice, but at the same time you fear the reality of the situation could burst the bubble of bliss you find yourself in right this moment. 
So you talk. You catch up. You play friends for a while, feel real mature when he shares snippets of his life that involve other people, other girls. People in his radar, his line of work, the love interest in his music video. Jungkook does, too. Feels like perhaps he’s come a long way when you tell him about trips you’ve taken with friends, new restaurants you’ve tried, galas he knows you haven’t attended alone. It’s all fine, it’s good. Total control of your feelings as you take each other in. 
Bam interrupts him mid-sentence, a sleepy whine in half protest he lets out as he walks inside the kitchen. 
“Aw, Jungkook,” you coo, “he’s sleepy.”
“Time for bed, Bamie?” He smiles, reaching down to scratch under his ears. “I’ll be right back.” 
“I’ll be here.” 
You smile, well aware that he keeps his dog bed in a cozy room in his house, quite literally puts him to bed every night. It makes you think about how good of a dad he’ll make one day, how much love is stored inside of him, how he likes to be needed and shows affection through acts of service. Your smile drops a bit, a feeling taking over you that you don’t like but have grown used to over the years. 
You snap out of it, busying yourself as you begin to tidy up the kitchen, sliding his pink rubber gloves over your hands before you start washing the single pot, knife and chopsticks he’d used to make you dinner. It doesn’t take him long to be back, though, walking back inside the kitchen and smiling at the sight before him. You hum a song he can’t make up, hips shimmying to the beat as you scrub the pot. Your shirt rides up a little and he cocks his head to the side, smiling at the way your underwear peeks from underneath the fabric. A black and lacy thong that has him nodding his head in boyish satisfaction. 
“You don’t have to do that,” he tells you, making you jump in place a bit at the sound of his voice.
You turn around, bringing a gloved finger to your lips as you shush him before you’re pointing it at the couch and shooing him away. “I’ll only be a second. Wait for me there.”
“‘Kay, boss.” He army salutes you, turning around and walking back to the couch, sitting down and sinking further into the cushions, legs spreading as he scrolls through his phone, a bit impatiently, missing you even though you’re so close. 
And to Jungkook’s great fortune, he doesn’t have to wait for much longer. Wrapping it up in the kitchen, you give it one last glance to make sure it’s back to its pristine state before you’re making your way towards him. He looks up at you, throwing his phone to the side and following you with his eyes, smiling when you’re in front of him.
“Thank you for dinner,” you say, voice sweet and low, eyes a bit hazy.
“Come here.” He takes your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as you throw your legs at either side of him, straddling him. 
“I needed this,” you admit.
“Me too,” he breathes. “I’m glad you called.”
You pout, eyes looking up for a second as you ponder. “You called me.”
He chuckles, not a single ounce of desire to deny you. “I’m glad I called.”
You giggle, arms wrapping around his neck and fingers getting lost in his long hair. His head draws back as your nails massage his scalp gently and he relaxes at your touch, goosebumps adorning his skin. His hands travel under your shirt, promptly finding your hips, waist, and then threatening to go higher but Jungkook wants to take his time tonight. He wants to stay in the sweet state of wanting you for a bit longer. When his eyes are back on yours, you kiss him. He sighs against your lips, bringing you closer to him by the waist, letting his tongue taste your bottom lip before he’s tasting your mouth. It’s slow, a bit sloppy and lazy, holds the quality of anything that happens in the middle of the night, when no one’s watching and time stills for the two of you. 
“Your skin is so soft,” he says, lips still on yours. 
“It’s your body lotion.” You roll your hips over his, smiling when you pull a low groan straight out of him. 
“Yeah,” he says, hands traveling down before he’s squeezing your ass, guiding your hips into his. “You smell like me. I like it.”
“I like it, too.” Your words get caught up in a moan as the outline of his cock parts your slit perfectly. 
You pull away a bit hesitantly, hands coming to rest at his shoulders as your hips pick up the pace. You go slow but sink deeper into him with every roll of your lips, eyes never parting from his as you take in the way his face starts to contort in pleasure, mouth parting slightly as his breathing grows heavier, little grunts leaving his lips with every push and pull. His hands travel back down to your hips, squeezing a little at the soft flesh, guiding them as you move over his cock. He’s so hard, can feel you through the layers, can bet on the fact that you’re wet and pulsing for him right now. 
“That feels good,” he sighs, gaze dropping as he rides your shirt up a bit at the front. His eyes fixate on the way the thin, lacy fabric of your panties bunches up every time you throw your hips back. 
“Brings back memories,” you say, voice a bit shaky when a particular roll of your hips has the tip of his cock hitting right against your clit. 
Jungkook smiles, mind hazy but perfectly able to picture the memories you refer to. “Mhm,” he sighs, so entrapped by the feeling he swears he can feel you pulse against him. He likes the way you consume his senses. The way everything around him stills and all he can think about is you. His hands squeeze at the flesh on your hips before he says, “turn around, baby.”
“‘Kay.”
Jungkook feels the loss of your warmth as you stand up before him once again, smiling at him before you’re turning around and sitting on his lap. You press your back to his chest, letting your head fall to his shoulder, your lips meeting his cheek in an open mouth kiss. His hands travel up your body, palms closing around your tits, thumbs playing with your nipples over the thick fabric of your shirt. You circle your hips, chasing the same friction from before but it’s not enough in this position. You bring your body forward, hands resting on his thighs as you throw your ass back at him, your pussy perfectly aligned on top of his cock, making you both moan at the same time. Jungkook’s gaze drops to your ass, enthralled by the way he feels, by the way you look. He rides your shirt up your back, exposes you to him and it only eggs you on, moving against his cock at the perfect rhythm. 
He hooks a finger down the side of your panties, letting it travel down, smiling lazily at the way you trap his knuckles between your pussy and his cock, moaning as you grind on them. He can feel how wet you are, dripping for him already even though he hasn’t touched you yet. “Want my fingers, baby?”
“Yes, please,” you plead, voice shaky as you look back at him. 
He’d usually tease you, make you beg for it a little longer, but tonight Jungkook obliges. It’s been long – too long – and all he can think about is being inside you, feeling you around him, making you feel good. He takes his time simply so he can savor the moment. So he can memorize it well enough to store it somewhere inside of him, just in case it’s another three months until he sees you again. 
He pushes his middle and ring finger inside of you, hissing at your warmth, cock jumping inside his sweatpants in anticipation and a little big of neglect. You close your eyes, pleasure taking over you as he begins to thrust his fingers inside of you slowly, arching expertly every time they hit your g-spot. His free hand squeezes around your ass cheek, groaning when the hand that fucks into you pushes down on his cock, aiding at giving him some much needed friction. You feel lightheaded already, all-consumed in his hold as he takes over your every sense. Your body relaxes and you can feel the way your tummy tenses right away. 
“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum,” your voice is faint but he hears you well enough. 
“Already? That was fast, baby.” You don’t miss the cocky tone his words hint at. 
“Shut up and don’t stop,” you say, looking back at him playfully. 
You see the way he smiles at you before his gaze is dropping back down, fingers moving expertly inside of you at the same pace, applying a bit more force as he pushes in, massaging that spot with the tip of his fingers. The added pressure has you mewling in no time, nails digging into his thighs, teeth biting at your bottom lip to ground you back into the moment as you let go. 
“Fuck,” he says as he feels you cum around his fingers, sweet moans filling the space around you and he so badly wishes he could look at your face right now. “Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He feels the way you contract around him, hips circling over his hand as you ride the waves of pleasure. 
You come down after a minute, mind still hazy as you fall back into him, lips finding his the moment he turns his head to the side. You kiss him, breathing into his mouth, smiling in your fucked out bliss. “That was so good.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” you say, pressing your forehead to his. “I need you to fuck me now.”
“Want it?” he asks, and you nod your head. “You can have it.” 
“Yeah, want it so bad, Jungkook.” Your voice is needy, holds a dreaminess to it that Jungkook doesn’t miss – one that makes him melt into your words, your touch, your lips as you kiss him again. 
Jungkook presses his hips into you, raising them a bit as he pushes his sweatpants down. You help him take them off, hand reaching back before you’re wrapping it around his cock. He’s hard and pulsing for you and if you weren’t pulsing for him, too, you’d probably want him in your mouth right this second. He feels heavy, big and thick in your hold, a grunt leaving his lips when your thumb circles around the head. You love how sensitive he is, how receptive. 
“Condom,” he says, before he runs out of blood in his brain and it all falls down to his cock. 
“In my bag,” you say, reaching to the side and pulling it towards you. You rummage around it for a second too long – a second that has Jungkook’s mind betraying him. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But nonetheless he can’t help but wonder where you’d be right now if he’d been asleep and hadn’t seen your text. Perhaps in the same position but with a stranger. Or maybe a stranger only to Jungkook. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only person you texted tonight. “Here you go, baby.” 
Your voice dismantles his worries and he’s warm again, all thoughts vanishing and it’s back to you and him. He leans forward, kissing your lips as he takes the condom from your hand. It makes you blush slightly, biting your lip in anticipation as you watch as he rips the foil of the packaging with his teeth. You watch the way he smirks as he rolls the condom on. 
“Why are you smiling?”
“Just thinking,” he says, smile growing wider, cheek dimples making him look cute but something about his voice begs to differ. 
You hum. “Thinking about what?”
He smiles. “July 14th, 2021.”
You both crack up, laughter filling the air the moment the words leave his mouth because of course you know what July 14th, 2021 meant. You’d been in a position very similar to this one, perhaps a bit more hazy minded, the true meaning of the heat of the moment finding you the minute you’d realized neither of you had a condom. You’d looked into each other’s eyes and made the silent agreement to be a little reckless and put a whole lot of trust on birth control and Jungkook’s pull out game. 
He said he’d never forget that day. 
“Long live, July 14th, 2021,” you say. 
“Shhh,” he says, squinting his eyes and bringing a finger to his mouth. “Don’t remind me.”
“You reminded yourself,” you bite back. “Now, can you fuck me? Pretty please.”
“Yeah, baby, come here.”
You push your ass back at him, looking at him from over your shoulder, biting your lip in anticipation as he strokes his cock once, twice, before he’s lining himself against your entrance. His hand comes to your hip, pulling you down towards him as you push him inside of you. You both sigh, moaning as he bottoms out, so deep and warm it has Jungkook throwing his head back against the couch, sinking further into it and pushing impossibly deeper into you. 
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimper, nails digging into his flesh. 
“Fuck me, baby,” he says, running a hand through his long hair. You nod, circling your hips a couple of times as you adjust to his size before you start moving your hips into him, ass bouncing with every push and pull. He hisses at the sight alone, bringing his hand down as he delivers a hard slap against your cheek, making you moan. “Shit, just like that. You’re so hot, ___.”
“Jungkook,” you whisper.
“Yeah, baby?” His eyes are back on yours, threatening to close in pleasure at the way your pussy feels around him. 
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, baby. So much.”
You fall into his chest, kissing him as he wraps his hand around your throat, not applying any pressure, just simply holding you. You gasp into his mouth when his other hand travels down and finds your clit, drawing lazy circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. You whine and he moans when you move your hips to the rhythm of his touch.
“I don’t wanna be on top anymore,” you say, pouting into his lips, frowning when you feel his chest shake in laughter. 
“Of course you don’t.”
“I’m an awful top.”
“You’re not a top.”
“Hey, I was a good top that one time,” you protest.
“Mm, yeah, that was hot. You got all bossy on me.”
“Oh, but that’s regardless,” you tell him, pushing your lips into his once more and straightening your back, smiling as you look back at him. He wipes said smile off your face in a second, hand meeting your ass in another hard slap. 
“Stay there,” he says, holding firmly onto your hips. 
“Okay, daddy.” That earns you another slap, though you can’t say it wasn’t exactly the goal in mind. 
“Behave.”
Your face grows pliant as you nod at him and Jungkook has to fight to keep up the front because if he’s being honest, the sight alone drives him crazy, threatens to break him down completely and leave him a needy, whiny mess. He holds you in place, legs raising you up a bit before he starts pistoling his hips against you, fucking you hard and fast and even though you saw it coming, it still takes you by surprise. The force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain translates into pleasure, the noises he makes – it’s all too much but fuck, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth parts in a silent moan, eyes closing as your face contorts in pleasure before the sensation ripples through you and you’re crying out. Your hand holds onto his arm and the firm grasp you have on it let’s him know.
“Fuck, I’m cummin,” you breathe out.
“Fuck yeah, baby. Cum all over my cock.”
“Oh my God,” you say, voice shaky and faint as you throw your body back into his. 
“Fuck, I love your pussy.”
“I love your cock,” you say, fucked out giggles escaping your lips. 
It takes you both a minute to steady your breathing and regain your strength. Jungkook kisses your neck, snaking a hand inside your shirt and squeezing your boob as you arch your back at the feel. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”
“Music to my ears,” you say, giddy and excited. 
Your knees buckle a bit when your feet touch the floor, the both of you laughing at your loss of balance, Jungkook a bit more cockily than you. He slaps your ass softly once, then twice as you begin to walk towards his bedroom. Once inside he takes his shirt off and when you turn around, your eyes scan over his body, metaphorically and possibly physically drooling over him. Your hands find the hem of your t-shirt before you’re pulling it off your body and tossing it aside until it’s landing on top of his. Your tits bounce as you do, and he nods his head at you, a satisfied pout adorning his lips. The pout turns sour the moment you turn around but is soon enough replaced with a smile when you start to crawl on top of his big mattress, finding the perfect spot over his pillows and laying down comfortably. 
“You’re so perfect.” Jungkook says, because anything else would downplay it and he’s not in the mood to run away from the truth. You giggle, soft and sweet and he feels the way his heart aches for you inside his chest. 
“Come to me,” you say, arms outstretched towards him. He makes his way to you, letting himself hover over you for a minute as he takes you in before he’s falling perfectly between your legs. You kiss him, letting your fingers get lost in his hair, breathing into the kiss and you swear this moment is laced in pure, unadulterated bliss. “Want to feel you inside me.”
“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.”
There it is, yet again, and without a fail. It’s so common you nearly miss it – the way the moment turns tender. It’s mostly soft, this unspoken agreement you’ve fallen into with Jungkook. It’s friendship and attraction, good sex and years of exploring each other. It’s trust and communication. It’s understanding. It’s soft at the beginning and tender halfway through. It’s so tender it feels tangible, like the moment itself could fit inside the palm of your hand and feel ripe to the touch as you hold onto it. It’s tender when he looks into your eyes, it’s tender when his voice says your name, when you kiss his lips. It’s tender when the lust borders on something else. It’s tender when it lingers, when it threatens to fall. 
He fucks you, hips moving against yours slowly, pulling moans out of your lips that get caught between his own when he kisses you. 
“You feel so good,” you whisper into his mouth, words that only he could hear even if it weren’t just the two of you. 
“Fuck, baby, so do you,” he whines, supple and yours, even if for that moment. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”
You smile, hand running through his hair before your fingers are pushing a strand behind his hear. “Cum for me, Kookie. Wanna feel you cum for me.”
Your words throw him over the edge, falling blissfully into you. It feels so fucking good. Your fingers running through his hair, down his neck and then back up again. The way your pussy clenches around him, cock throbbing for you at the wake of his release. Your lips are soft and the rise and fall of your chest falls into perfect sync with his. His hand squeezes at your breast before it’s traveling down your body, squeezing at your thigh before you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, flushed to him. Every little thing you do heightens his senses until all he can breathe, think and feel is you. His face falls down the crook of your neck and you breathe out a moan into his ear, unraveling him completely.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.” His hips slow down before they still completely, a moan passing his lips as he releases into the condom, your nails softly running down his spine. His body feels spent but he doesn’t miss the way it relaxes on top of you, blissful and peaceful, growing sleepy right away. 
“Feel good?” you ask, your fingertips running down his back in what feels like a feathery whisper. 
“So fucking good,” he mumbles against the skin of your shoulder before his eyes are finding yours again. He kisses you. He kisses you because in moments like this he wants to say something else, something that makes more sense to his heart than anything his brain could say.
You kiss him back, afraid your heart will betray you, too. 
~
You stare at him as you make your way back to his bed. He lays on his tummy, cheek pressed against the soft pillow, his pretty hair framing his face in a way that makes him look dreamlike. He doesn’t move an inch when you pull back the covers, if only for a second, to get back in bed with him. You lay on your side, eyes still fixed on him and your heart grows a new kind of tender at the sight of his sleeping form. He’s pouty and soft and so, so peaceful. Something sinks in your tummy, but it’s not in a way that signals bad news. Perhaps it’s the butterflies settling, perhaps the heat of the moment has began to cool down. 
Your hand comes to his face, fingers gently pushing his hair out of his eyes before you let them wander down his face. His cheeks are soft, his ears cold and when it tickles, he frowns. Your thumb travels up again, smoothing his brow bone and he relaxes. Your eyes follow your touch as you trace the bridge of his nose, slowly, softly, as if you were being quizzed on it later. Wanting to take everything in, afraid that even blinking could take away from the moment. And when your finger lands on his lips, you trace that too the way your own did only minutes prior. 
His eyes begin to flutter, a failed attempt to open them but you know he’s partially awake from the smile that pulls at his lips. You feel it on your finger before your eyes meet his gesture and when they do, you close them instinctively, leaning over and kissing him. His body can’t respond to his brain right now, exhausted and more asleep than he is awake, but he hums in satisfaction, lips puckering as he tries to give into his instincts. 
“Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll go buy honey and make you pancakes.” 
You smile, though he can’t see, and perhaps it’s for the best. Your voice is a whisper when you say, “deal.”
His smile is the last thing you see before you fall asleep.
~
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mononijikayu · 2 months ago
Text
a day in a life — ryomen sukuna.
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You set Yuji down, and he immediately takes your hand in his tiny one, his other hand reaching out to grab Sukuna's sleeve, tugging at him. "Uncle Sukuna, come on!" Sukuna grunts, letting Yuji pull him along, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and reluctant affection. “Alright, alright, brat….I’m coming.” he says, trying to sound grumpy but failing spectacularly. You smile at the sight of them together and take Sukuna's other hand. "Looks like we're both in for an adventure, aren’t you?" you whisper.
GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;
WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), fluff, family, slice of life, family dynamic, light hearted, domestic, romance, protectiveness, crying, hugging, banter, humour, physical touch, happy ending, hurt/comfort, depictions of family dynamic, depiction of getting lost, depiction of anxiety, depiction of slice of life, menction of amnesia, boyfriend! sukuna, amnesiac! girlfriend! reader, domestic uncle sukuna!, nephew!yuji, i love you nephew!yuji;
WORD COUNT: 6.4k words
NOTE: the people have spoken and ryomen sukuna won my poll (again) so this is a special treat for yall!!! this is the aftermath of amnesia and reader and sukuna got back together. this is maybe a year or so to them getting back together. yuji loves his auntie!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy it. i had a lovely time writing it because this is what we deserved from gege!!! i love you all!!! thank you for your continued love <3
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── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
IT WAS YOUR DAY OFF. And that was something you and Sukuna had agreed about in the early dawn of your relationship together. You wanted to get to know this man you fell in love with, and many years had passed since you both even got together after your amnesia. One of those days was today. With no work obligations today and Sukuna taking a break from managing his gym, the two of you had indulged in a much-needed cozy day. 
A lot of things would change. So, Ryomen Sukuna stepped up to the plate and took some time off to just have days to cherish your time together. 
Everything had been blissfully quiet, a rarity for both you and Sukuna. Like always on these days, you’d spent the morning wrapped in a warm blanket together, watching a movie you both had half-paid attention to, more engrossed in each other’s company than the plot unfolding on screen.
Ryomen Sukuna had his arm draped around your shoulders, his fingers lazily drawing patterns against your skin. Your boyfriend doesn’t sleep that much, but when he’s in his lazy days with you — he makes an effort to rest. You worry a lot for him, after all. And he doesn’t want to add more to those worries. Begrudgingly he does it, but it makes you happy. 
He expected to spend the day with you like this all day. And Sukuna was happy with that. He likes having time with you like this, just embracing each other’s warmth and talking over the bad television shows and ordering in if you don’t feel like getting up and making a meal together.
Life was great. This was his day in a life. Sukuna had dreamed of it for years since you parted. And now that you’re together again, it just all fell into place. Nothing could be better than this. And he adores it. 
But then Sukuna's phone rang, and you watched as his expression shifted from contentment to annoyance. He sighed, glancing at the caller ID — his twin brother, Itadori Jin. You looked at him curiously as he sighed.
Reluctantly, Sukuna answered, his voice gruff. "What’s up?"
You could only hear Jin’s voice faintly on the other end, speaking quickly. Sukuna’s face darkened as Jin explained the situation — some emergency at work that demanded his immediate attention.
Because of this, Kaori, Jin's wife, would have to go and pick up their eldest son Choso alone for vacation. They didn’t wanna agitate with a long drive, since Yuji is still a little boy. And with no one else to watch over their young son, Itadori Jin was left with only one option.
Ryomen Sukuna pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated. You could almost hear his internal mantra: ‘Don’t say it, don’t say it…’
But Jin, with his usual charm and desperation, finally got to the point. “Look, can you just babysit Yuji for a couple of days until we’re back? We don’t have anyone else.”
Sukuna opened his mouth, ready to protest, but before he could even get a word out, you grinned and cut in. "Oh, we'd love to! Right, Sukuna?"
Sukuna shot you a glare that was more pout than anything else. He looked betrayed, as if you had just handed him the world’s most inconvenient challenge. You couldn't help but bit your lip, trying to stop your laughter. He's always like this when it comes to his nephew. He likes to pretend that he doesn't like him and yet, he does. A lot.
For a moment, you think he was almost like a kitten who found his owner’s antics unpleasant. You felt the tension in his arm, the muscles flexing in silent rebellion. He’d been so ready to complain, to give a flat ‘no’ but your enthusiasm left him no room to argue.
Jin laughed on the other end. “Great! Thank you, sister in law! We’ll drop him off in an hour.”
As the call ended, Sukuna tossed his phone onto the couch with a dramatic sigh, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as if he’d just endured a great ordeal. “Really?” he muttered, a sulky undertone in his voice. "You had to say yes?"
You laughed softly and nudged him with your elbow. "Oh, come on, baby. It'll be fun! Besides, Yuji is adorable. Don't you think so?"
Sukuna opened one eye, giving you a side-eyed glance. "He’s a menace, that brat." he grumbled, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "A little gremlin in disguise."
You leaned closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. "And I think you secretly like him." you teased.
He snorted, though his arm tightened around you instinctively. "Yeah, well, I like my peace and quiet more. ‘specially since I get my fill of you."
You blushed at his words. For a moment, you could feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, steady and strong, and you knew he would complain, sulk, and groan about this for the next hour.
But you also knew, without a doubt, that he’d be the one sneaking Yuji cookies before dinner, making silly faces just to hear him giggle, and pretending to be indifferent even as he kept a protective eye on the kid. After all, he loved his little nephew. Even if he doesn’t say it out loud.
“Fine." Sukuna grumbled finally, his voice resigned but affectionate. "But don’t blame me if he decides to climb the walls or something.”
You smiled, planting a soft kiss on his jaw. "Deal." 
Sukuna’s sigh was heavy, dramatic, but there was no mistaking the way he leaned into your touch, accepting his fate with a grumpy fondness that only made you love him more.
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
day one
IN NO TIME, YOU WERE ALREADY PARKING. You watched as your boyfriend carefully looked at the space as he parks with precision. You liked being in the Itadori household. Somehow, you just felt the warmth of bing alive here. They treated you like family even when you and Sukuna haven't even married. And today was no different.
When you and Sukuna arrive at Jin and Kaori’s house, you could just feel how the sun shines brightly as you pull up to the driveway. Itadori Yuji is already waiting outside, a tiny bundle of energy with his little red backpack on, his face lighting up the moment he sees you. You barely have time to get out of the car before Yuji bolts over, throwing himself at you with an enthusiastic hug that nearly knocks you back.
“Auntie!” he squeals, wrapping his small arms around your legs.
Your heart melts instantly. "Hey, Yuji!" you greet him, scooping him up effortlessly and spinning him around in a playful circle. "I’ve missed you, little guy!"
Yuji giggles, clutching onto you tighter, his face buried in your shoulder. Over your shoulder, you see Sukuna standing by the car, arms crossed, his mouth set in a grumpy line. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the simmering annoyance rolling off him in waves.
You shoot him a playful smile. "Look, baby!" you tease. "He's already so attached!"
Sukuna rolls his eyes, but there’s no real malice in his expression. “Yeah, yeah.” he grumbles, though his lips twitch like he’s trying to hold back a smile. “Don't spoil him too much.”
You grin and bounce Yuji in your arms, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "How could I not? He's too cute. So precious too!”
Yuji beams up at you, clearly enjoying the attention. "Auntie, can we go to the playground?" he asks excitedly, his eyes wide and hopeful.
You look at him, amused. "Of course, we can, buddy! What do you want to do at the playground?"
Yuji's face lights up even more, if that was possible. "I wanna see my best friends! Nobara and Megumi! They’ll be there like usual!" he declares with all the seriousness a toddler can muster.
Sukuna lets out a low groan from behind you. “Great.” he mutters sarcastically. “Not only do we have to babysit the brat, but now we’re running a daycare service.”
You glance over at him with a laugh. "Come on, it'll be fun! Besides, it'll be nice to meet his little friends."
Sukuna sighs dramatically, but you catch the way his gaze softens just a fraction when he looks at Yuji. You know he would never admit it, but he has a soft spot for his nephew, even if he won’t say it out loud.
You set Yuji down, and he immediately takes your hand in his tiny one, his other hand reaching out to grab Sukuna's sleeve, tugging at him. "Uncle Sukuna, come on!"
Sukuna grunts, letting Yuji pull him along, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and reluctant affection. “Alright, alright, brat….I’m coming.” he says, trying to sound grumpy but failing spectacularly.
You smile at the sight of them together and take Sukuna's other hand. "Looks like we're both in for an adventure, aren’t you?" you whisper.
Sukuna shoots you a look, but the corner of his mouth quirks up just slightly. "Yeah, sure. An adventure." he mutters, but you see the way his grip tightens around your hand.
Yuji swings between you two, his laughter bright and infectious as you make your way to the playground, where a day full of play, giggles, and unexpected joy awaits. You can’t help but think that he’s the purest thing in life.
The neighborhood playground is a colorful blur of swings, slides, and a few scattered benches where parents and caregivers chat while keeping an eye on their kids. You could pick up the sound of laughter filling the air from afar, and Yuji’s excitement is palpable as he practically vibrates with energy between you and Sukuna. He seems to love this place.
“Where are they?” Yuji asks, his head swiveling in every direction with tenderness, searching for his friends. “Where’s Nobara? Where’s Megumi?”
You crouch down to his level, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon, Yuji. Do you want to try the swings while we wait?”
Yuji nods eagerly. “Yes! Push me, Auntie!” He drags you over to the swings, his little legs moving as fast as they can. Sukuna trails behind, hands shoved into his pockets, doing his best to appear indifferent. But you catch him watching Yuji with a faint smile on his face when he thinks you aren’t looking.
You carefully lift Yuji into the swing, securing him before giving him a gentle push. Soon enough, his little fits of laughter fills the air, bright and pure, as he kicks his legs back and forth, asking for “Higher, higher!”
Sukuna leans against the swing set's metal frame, observing the scene with a mix of amusement and begrudging fondness. "Careful, babe." he warns, though his tone lacks any real bite. "Don't launch him into orbit."
You laugh softly. "Come on, he's having fun!" You give Yuji another push, his giggles ringing out as he soars through the air. "See, Sukuna? This is what a good day looks like."
Sukuna grunts, but there’s no hiding the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Sure, sure. I’ll take your word for it.”
Just then, a small voice calls out from behind you, full of excitement. “Yuji!”
You turn to see a little girl with a red bow in her hair running over, a boy with dark, serious eyes following at a more measured pace. Yuji’s face lights up even brighter. “Nobara! Megumi!” he shouts, waving his arms enthusiastically.
Nobara reaches you first, hands on her hips and a bright grin on her face. “Hey, Yuji! Hi!” She waves up at you, her bright grin was confident and charming. "Are you Yuji's auntie?"
You nod, charmed by her boldness. "I am! It's nice to meet you, Nobara. And you must be Megumi?" you say, looking over at the quiet boy who stands just a bit behind Nobara.
Megumi nods, his expression serious. “Hi.” he says quietly, his gaze shifting between you and Sukuna, assessing. He seemed like a weary kid, but you don’t blame him. 
Sukuna raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You two Yuji’s bodyguards or something?” he teases.
Nobara puffs out her chest, clearly taking it as an offense. “Huh?!  No we’re not! We’re his best friends!” she declares proudly. Megumi gives a small nod as he hides that almost imperceptible smile at her confidence. 
“Tch, brat—”
“That’s great!” You grinned at her. “Thank you for taking care of Yuji!”
Yuji hops off the swing, rushing over to grab his friends’ hands. “Let’s play!” he shouts, already pulling them toward the jungle gym.
You stand beside Sukuna, watching them run off with a fond smile. “See? Isn’t this nice?”
Sukuna grunts, though there’s no mistaking the soft expression on his face as he watches Yuji. “Yeah, yeah… maybe.” he mutters. “As long as nobody starts crying. Or falling and then crying.”
You laugh and nudge him playfully with your elbow. “Just admit it, you’re having a good time.”
He finally relents, sighing dramatically. “Fine, maybe it’s not that bad.” He turns his head slightly to look at you, a glint of affection in his eyes. “But only because you’re here.”
You feel a warm flutter in your chest at his words and lean closer, brushing a kiss against his cheek. “That’s the spirit, baby.” you tease softly.
As you both stand there, watching Yuji play with his friends, you feel a sense of contentment settle over you. It’s simple, this moment, but somehow perfect in its simplicity — surrounded by laughter, sun, and Sukuna’s reluctant but undeniable fondness for his nephew. And you were enjoying it all. Taking it all as it is. It was the perfect day.
Suddenly, Yuji runs back over, out of breath but beaming. “Auntie, Uncle! Can you come play too?” he asks, tugging at both of your hands with his small ones.
You glance at Sukuna, who looks momentarily caught off guard. But then, with a sigh and a half-smile, he bends down, ruffling Yuji's hair. “Alright, brat.” he says, his voice mock-gruff. “What do you want us to do?”
Yuji's eyes shine with excitement. "You can be the monsters, and we'll be the heroes!"
Sukuna raises an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm a monster now?" he grumbles, but you can tell he's already warming up to the idea.
You laugh, taking Yuji’s hand. “Okay, monsters it is. But you better run fast, heroes!”
With that, Yuji squeals in delight, dragging his friends back to the jungle gym as you and Sukuna pretend to chase after them. Sukuna might act like he’s reluctant, but you catch the way he’s smiling, truly smiling, and your heart feels impossibly full.
For now, there’s no place else you’d rather be. And you meant it.
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
day two
THE EXHAUSTION FROM YESTERDAY DIDN’T PREVENT YUJI FROM WANTING TO ENJOY TODAY. When the next day dawns with bright and clear skies, you could only think that it was the perfect weather for a trip to the zoo. Itadori Yuji was up early, bouncing with excitement, and his enthusiasm quickly became infectious. 
Even your boyfriend, who had initially grumbled about being dragged to a “smelly zoo” eventually caved in to his nephew Yuji’s pleas — especially after you flashed him a knowing smile and those eyes, reminding him how much this meant to his nephew. He couldn't deny you, no matter how much he tried. He grumbled loudly about it before finally saying yes. But you knew just as much that he was enjoying himself. 
You haven’t been in a zoo in a very long time, that much you could be honest about. Sukuna doesn’t seem to care for it either growing up. But you think that this was going to be great for Yuji. He adored animals. Even just seeing them on the television makes him happy and curious. It was his first time going and seeing animals like this, up close. And you just know that it would be such a great time for him.
As soon as you arrive, Yuji is practically vibrating with energy. He tugs at your hand and points at the map, his little face glowing with excitement. “Auntie, Uncle, can we see the lions first? And then the penguins! Oh, and the monkeys too!” he babbles, his words tumbling over each other in his eagerness.
You nod with a smile. “Of course, Yuji. We have all day to see everything!”
Sukuna shakes his head, hiding a grin. “Just try not to run off, brat.” he warns, ruffling Yuji’s hair. “We don’t want to be chasing after you like yesterday at the playground.”
Yuji beams up at him. “Okay, Uncle Sukuna! I’ll stay with you!”
You spend the morning moving from one exhibit to another, enjoying the wonder in Yuji’s eyes as he watches the animals with wide-eyed fascination. He claps excitedly at the lions, laughs at the playful monkeys, and insists on mimicking the penguins’ waddles, much to your amusement and Sukuna’s reluctant chuckles.
You take plenty of photos, capturing the joy on Yuji’s face and even getting a rare shot of Sukuna smiling genuinely, one arm slung casually around your shoulders as he watches Yuji with a fond, if exasperated, expression. You think that you’ll have fun looking through it and printing it out for the photo albums. You were sure Kaori and Jin would love to have some copies too.
By lunchtime, you settle down at a picnic table near the petting zoo area. You hand Yuji a juice box, and he takes it eagerly, swinging his legs and chattering non-stop about the animals he’s seen and what he wants to see next. You all carefully eat your lunches and just let the food settle down for a little while. Sukuna sat beside you, drinking a big glass of cola to try and cool off the heat.
“Auntie, Uncle, can we see the elephants next?” Yuji asks between sips, his face flushed with excitement.
You nod. “Absolutely. After we finish lunch, we’ll head over there.”
“That's on the other side of the zoo.” Sukuna points out to you.
You looked at your boyfriend with a small smile. “And guess what? We’re still going!”
Yuji grins and quickly finishes his juice, already standing up and tugging at your arm. “Okay, let’s go now!”
You laugh softly, but Sukuna gently pulls him back to the table. “Hey, slow down, kid. Let us finish our food first.”
Yuji pouts for a moment but eventually nods, bouncing on his toes while he waits. A few moments pass, and you’re almost done with your meal when a family nearby starts laughing loudly, drawing Yuji’s attention. Curious, he takes a few steps toward them, his bright almond eyes wide with interest.
“Yuji, stay close to us.” you remind him, keeping an eye on him as he moves closer to see what’s happening.
But as you turn to answer a question from Sukuna, just for a second, when you look back, Yuji is gone. Your heart drops to your stomach as your eyes open widely, your mouth shaking as you try to speak. You suddenly couldn’t speak and fright started to get to you.
“Yuji?” you call out, your voice a bit louder now, scanning the area. Panic begins to creep into your chest.
Your boyfriend Sukuna immediately stands up, his expression shifting from relaxed to alert in an instant. You can tell by the look in his eyes. He was just as panicked. 
“Where’d he go?” he asks, his voice tight with concern.
You feel a knot forming in your stomach as you look around frantically. “He was just here, babe…i just….”
Sukuna curses under his breath, his eyes scanning the crowded area with growing urgency. “Yuji!” he calls out, louder this time, his voice cutting through the chatter of the crowd.
You quickly weave through the nearby groups of people, calling Yuji's name, your heart racing. You could feel the knot of guilt in you. Your mind started to race with many thoughts. You could have looked after him better, you could have been more vigilant. You were the adult. How could you let this happen? Sukuna is right behind you, his hand protectively on your back as you search, his expression darkening with worry.
“He couldn't have gone far, babe.” you say, trying to keep the panic from your voice. “He’s probably just wandered off… right?”
Sukuna clenches his jaw, a determined look crossing his face. “Yeah, but we need to find him now.” he says firmly.
You both decided to split up, checking around the petting zoo and nearby exhibits. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and a dozen scenarios flash through your mind. But you push them aside, focusing on finding Yuji.
Minutes feel like hours as you weave through the crowds, your desperate voice growing hoarse from calling his name. Just as your heart is about to leap into full-blown panic, you hear a familiar, small voice.
“Auntie?”
You turn sharply and spot Itadori Yuji standing a few feet away, holding the hand of a zookeeper. Relief floods over you as you rush over, immediately dropping to your knees and wrapping your arms around him. You could feel like you were going to burst into tears just holding him like this. You were relieved. He was here. He was safe. He’s okay. You thank the gods above.
“Yuji! Thank goodness, you’re okay!” you say, your voice trembling with relief.
Yuji looks up at you with wide eyes, his lower lip trembling. “I’m sorry, Auntie. I just wanted to see the elephants…”
You hug him tighter, feeling your boyfriend’s presence beside you as he drops down to Yuji’s level, his expression stern but his eyes soft. He must have seen you both and ran over here as quickly as he could. He purses his lips int a tight line as he observed his nephew for injuries or bruises and even cuts.
“Brat, you scared us.” Sukuna says, ruffling Yuji’s hair more gently this time. “You have to stay close, got it? Don’t do that again.”
Yuji nods, tears brimming in his bright big eyes. “I’m sorry, Uncle Sukuna… I didn’t mean to…”
Sukuna’s expression softens completely, and he sighs, pulling Yuji into a hug. “Yeah, yeah, it’s okay, brat.” he mutters, his voice a little rough. “‘s not your fault, okay? Just….hold my hand next time.”
Yuji nods against his shoulder, and you reach over, brushing a tear from his cheek. “Come on, let’s go see those elephants, hmm? Together this time,” you say softly.
Yuji sniffles but nods, and you stand up, taking his hand. Sukuna rises too, keeping a protective arm around you both. “Yeah, together.” he agrees, his tone firm but warm.
You thank the zookeeper and solemnly leave, with Sukuna carrying Yuji in his arms still trying to comfort him. Your boyfriend pat his nephew’s back, stroking it over and over to comfort him. It broke your heart that Yuji was upset. But he was here. And he’ll be okay. That’s all that mattered to you. You knew just as much that Sukuna was the same.
The three of you head toward the elephant exhibit, Yuji keeps close between the two of you, his little hand gripping yours tightly, and Sukuna’s hand resting on his shoulder. Despite the scare, you feel a sense of calm wash over you, knowing that as long as you’re all together, everything will be alright. 
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
day three
THE SLEEP WAS ROUGH LAST NIGHT. You didn’t want to let go of Yuji in your sleep. He had ended up not wanting to leave your bed last night and slept with you and Sukuna in your bedroom. He still was anxious from being lost, you can’t help but think. And you don’t really blame him for it. Sukuna didn’t utter a word and just let it be, wrapping the covers on your bodies and went to close the night light.
Come morning, you wake up to the sound of muffled clinking and clattering coming from the kitchen. You couldn’t help but blink your eyes open, the early light filtering through the curtains. Beside you, Sukuna stirs, frowning slightly at the noise. 
“What’s that racket?” he grumbles, rubbing his eyes.
You sit up, listening closely. The noise continues — the unmistakable sound of plates and silverware being moved around, a chair being dragged across the floor. You glance at Sukuna, a smile tugging at your lips. “Sounds like our little guest is up to something.”
Sukuna narrows his eyes suspiciously. “That brat better not be doing anything dangerous in there.” he mutters, though there’s no real heat in his voice.
You both get out of bed and quietly make your way to the kitchen, peeking around the corner. There, in the middle of the kitchen, stands Yuji, a determined expression on his face as he tries to balance on a chair he's pushed against the counter.
His small hands are busy spreading a thick, uneven layer of butter on a piece of bread, followed by an enthusiastic dollop of jam. Nearby, a bowl of cereal overflows with milk, and a few spilled Cheerios are scattered across the counter.
Yuji mutters to himself under his breath, clearly focused on his task. “Okay, okay… just a little more…” He tips the milk carton a bit too far, and more milk splashes onto the counter. He gasps softly but quickly goes back to his sandwich-making, a look of concentration on his face.
You can’t help but smile, and Sukuna, despite his earlier grumbling, looks a bit amused too. “What’s he doing?” Sukuna whispers, leaning closer to you.
“I think… he’s making us breakfast, babe.” you whisper back, feeling your heart melt a little.
Before you can say anything, Yuji notices you both standing there. His eyes widen in surprise, but then he beams, his face lighting up with pride.
“Auntie! Uncle Sukuna!” he exclaims. “Good morning! I… I made you breakfast!” He gestures to the chaotic spread on the counter, looking so proud of himself that you can’t help but feel a swell of affection.
You step forward, giving him a warm smile. “Wow, Yuji! This looks… delicious!” you say, trying to sound as genuine as possible while suppressing a laugh at the mess.
Sukuna crosses his arms, one eyebrow raised, but there’s a soft look in his eyes. “Yeah, brat, you really outdid yourself.” he says with a small grin. “What’s the occasion?”
Yuji’s smile falters a little, and he looks down at his feet, shuffling nervously. “I… I wanted to say sorry for yesterday.” he mumbles. “I didn’t mean to make you worry… So I wanted to make you a special breakfast to make up for it.”
Your heart melts at his sincerity. You crouch down to his level and pull him into a gentle hug. “Oh, Yuji, you don’t have to do that for us.” you say softly. “We know you didn’t mean to worry us. We’re just happy you’re safe.”
Yuji hugs you back tightly, burying his face in your shoulder for a moment. “But I wanted to, Auntie!” he insists. “Because I love you and Uncle Sukuna… and I wanted to make you smile.”
Sukuna’s expression softens further, and he crouches down next to you, ruffling Yuji’s hair. “Hey, brat, you already made us feel relieved.” he says gruffly, though his voice is unusually gentle. “But I guess we should at least taste this fine meal you’ve prepared, huh?”
Yuji’s face lights up again, and he nods eagerly. “Yes! I made a sandwich and cereal! It’s my favorite!”
You and Sukuna exchange a glance, amused but touched by Yuji’s earnestness. You take a bite of the butter-and-jam sandwich, doing your best to keep a straight face as the unevenly spread butter melts on your tongue alongside a very generous layer of sweet jam.
“It’s… unique.” you say, giving Yuji a big smile. “Thank you, Yuji.”
Sukuna follows suit, picking up the cereal bowl and taking a careful sip of the overly milky concoction. “Mmm.” he says with a nod, holding back a chuckle. “Not bad, brat. Not bad at all.”
Yuji beams, clearly delighted by your reactions. “Yay! I’m glad you like it!” He claps his hands, his earlier nerves completely gone now.
You reach over and give Yuji another hug. “Thank you for being so thoughtful, Yuji.” you say warmly. “You’ve definitely made our morning.”
Sukuna nods, wrapping an arm around Yuji’s shoulders. “Yeah, brat….you’re alright.” he says, a rare softness in his tone. “But next time, let’s make breakfast together, okay? Might save a little bit of the kitchen from total destruction.”
Yuji giggles, nodding eagerly. “Okay, Uncle Sukuna! Next time, we’ll make pancakes!”
You smile, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you as you look at the two of them. Despite the mess, despite the unexpectedness of it all, you can’t think of a better way to start the day.
Later that morning, as you and Sukuna help Yuji clean up the kitchen — which now looks like it’s survived a mini tornado — your phone rings. You glance at the screen and see it’s Jin calling. You exchange a quick look with Sukuna, who’s wiping a smear of jam off the counter, and answer the call.
“Hey, Jin!” you greet him warmly, keeping an eye on Yuji, who is carefully stacking dishes in the sink. “How’s everything going?”
Jin’s voice comes through, sounding a bit tired but cheerful. “Hey! We’re wrapping up at work sooner than we thought. Kaori’s gonna arrive in a day or two. I just wanted to let you know I’m on my way back home. I should be there in a few hours.”
You feel a pang of mixed emotions — relief that Jin and Kaori are safe and on their way back, but also a little sadness knowing this means Yuji’s stay with you is coming to an end. “That’s great news, Jin.” you say, glancing at Yuji. “We’ve had such a fun time with Yuji, he’s been wonderful.”
Jin laughs. “I’m glad to hear that! I hope he wasn't too much trouble for you guys.”
Sukuna snorts softly, overhearing the conversation. “Trouble? That’s an understatement.” he mutters, though there’s a fondness in his voice that he doesn’t bother hiding.
You grin at Sukuna’s comment before turning your attention back to Jin. “No trouble at all.” you assure him. “Yuji’s been an absolute sweetheart.”
Jin sighs, a smile evident in his tone. “Thanks for looking after him. We’ll come to pick him up as soon as we get back.”
You hang up the phone and turn to Yuji, who’s watching you with wide, curious eyes. He tilts his head slightly. “Was that Daddy?” he asks, his little voice hopeful.
You nod, smiling gently. “Yes, Yuji. Your dad said he and your mom are on their way back. They’ll be here to pick you up soon.”
Yuji’s face falls, and his shoulders slump. “But… but I don’t wanna go home yet.” he murmurs, his lower lip jutting out in a pout. “I’m having so much fun with you and Uncle Sukuna…”
Sukuna raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looks down at his nephew. “Oh, come on, brat.” he says, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. “You miss your parents, don’t you?”
Yuji frowns and shakes his head, his small hands clenching the hem of his shirt. “But I wanna stay here longer! We didn’t even make cookies yet!” he protests, looking between you and Sukuna with pleading eyes.
You kneel down to his level, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Yuji, we’ve had so much fun with you, and we’re going to miss you too.” you say softly. “But your mom and dad miss you too, and they can’t wait to see you.”
Yuji’s eyes welled up with tears, and he looked down, his voice barely a whisper. “I know… but I like being here… with you two.”
Sukuna sighs, his expression softening. He crouches down beside you, his hand resting on Yuji’s shoulder. “Hey, brat.” he says, his tone gentler now, “Just because you’re going home doesn’t mean we won’t see you again. We’ll have more fun days together, I promise.”
Yuji sniffles, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Really?”
“Really.” Sukuna confirms, ruffling his hair. “And next time, we’ll definitely make those cookies, huh? Maybe even chocolate chip ones. What do you say?”
Yuji’s face brightens a little, and he nods, his tears already forgotten at the mention of chocolate chip cookies. “Okay… but can we still go to the park one last time before I go home?”
You exchange a glance with Sukuna, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “Alright, one last trip to the park.” he concedes with a smirk. “But only because you already made us breakfast.”
Yuji grins, and you can’t help but smile too, your heart feeling full. “Let’s get ready, then.” you say, standing up and taking Yuji’s hand. “One more adventure before your parents come to get you.”
Yuji cheers, jumping up and down excitedly. “Yay! Let’s go!” he exclaims, all traces of sadness gone.
As you head out the door, you feel Sukuna’s hand slip into yours, giving it a light squeeze. “You’re good with him, you know? Thank you for that, babe.” he murmurs, a rare softness in his voice. 
You smile up at him. “Oh, you don’t have to thank me. You’re just as good with taking care of him, you know? Love that about you, babe.” you reply.
Sukuna couldn’t help but snorts but doesn’t disagree, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he leads the way, Yuji’s laughter filling the air. And for now, that’s all that matters.
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──
epilogue
Itadori Choso finally arrives home from college after a long drive. He was eager to spend some time with his little brother, Yuji. Being far gone in college, all he thinks about is when he’d get to play with his little brother. And he can’t wait. He steps into the house, dropping his bags by the door with a loud thud, and immediately calls out in front of his mother.
“Yuji! I’m back!”
Yuji, who has been doodling in the living room, perks up and runs over to greet him. “Big brother!” he shouts, throwing his arms around his older brother in a big hug. But no sooner has he hugged Choso than he starts babbling excitedly. “Guess what! I had the best time ever with Uncle Sukuna and Auntie!”
Choso’s smile wavers slightly, and he looks down at Yuji with a puzzled expression. “Oh, did you?” he asks, his tone laced with a bit of unease. “What did you do with them?”
Yuji’s eyes light up as he launches into a detailed recount of every moment spent with you and Sukuna, from the trip to the zoo to making breakfast and playing at the park. “And then Uncle Sukuna said we’ll make chocolate chip cookies next time! And Auntie said we could go to the beach too!”
Choso’s smile turns into a slightly forced grin as he listens, nodding along but feeling a twinge of jealousy in his chest. “Wow, sounds like you had… a lot of fun.” he says, trying to keep his voice light. “But hey, I’m back now, so we can have fun too, right? We can do all the things we used to do!”
Yuji’s face scrunches up in thought for a moment before he shrugs. “I guess…” he says, a bit too nonchalantly for Choso’s liking. “But Uncle Sukuna is really funny, and Auntie gives the best hugs. And we were going to make pancakes!”
Choso’s eye twitches slightly. “I can make cookies too, you know,” he says, sounding just a tad defensive. “I’ve been making them for you since forever, Yuji.”
Yuji nods, but he looks unconvinced. “Yeah, but… Uncle Sukuna flips them really high in the air. And Auntie says we can put as many chocolate chips as we want!”
Choso crosses his arms, his brow furrowing. “Oh, really?” he mutters. “Well, I bet Uncle Sukuna can’t make cookies shaped like dinosaurs like I can.” He puffs out his chest a little, feeling smug.
Yuji’s eyes widen for a second, but then he shrugs again. “Maybe!” he admits. “But Uncle Sukuna and Auntie took me to the zoo and the park, and we saw a real dinosaur—uh, I mean, a lizard that looked like one!”
Choso’s eyebrow twitches again, and he huffs. “Yeah, well, that’s cool and all, but I’m way cooler than Uncle Sukuna, right?” he says, trying to sound casual, but his voice pitches a little higher than usual.
Yuji tilts his head, considering this for a long, exaggerated moment. “Umm… I dunno…” he finally says, looking genuinely torn. “You’re both cool. But Uncle Sukuna can lift me with one arm! Can you do that?”
Choso frowns. “Of course, I can! I’m your big brother!” He scoops Yuji up in a single swift motion, lifting him high into the air. “See? I’m strong too!”
Yuji giggles, kicking his legs. “Okay, okay! You’re strong too, Choso!”
Choso sets him down with a triumphant grin, feeling like he’s finally won this little contest. “See? You don’t need Uncle Sukuna. You’ve got me.”
But then, just as Choso thinks he’s secured his place as Yuji’s favorite, you and Sukuna walk through the front door, having stopped by to return a forgotten toy. Yuji’s face lights up like a thousand-watt bulb. “Auntie! Uncle Sukuna!” he squeals, running over to you both.
Choso watches, deflated, as Yuji clings to your leg, babbling excitedly about your return. He turns to Sukuna, glaring a little. “So, you think you’re the cool uncle, huh?” he grumbles.
Sukuna smirks, crossing his arms with a cocky grin. “I don’t think, kid. I know.”
Choso rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, “I knew I should’ve stayed home this semester…” 
You laugh, noticing Choso’s pout, and lean in conspiratorially. “Don’t worry, Choso.” you say with a wink. “There’s always room for many cool people in Yuji’s life.”
Choso sighs but manages a smile. “Yeah, yeah, I guess so.” he mutters, giving in with a playful eye roll. “But I’m still making those dinosaur cookies with him today.”
Yuji bounces up and down excitedly. “Dinosaur cookies with chocolate chips!” he exclaims, clearly enjoying this newfound competition for his affection.
Sukuna scoffs, grinning. “Game on, Choso. Game on.”
And with that, Choso knows his days of being Yuji’s favorite are numbered… but at least it’ll be fun trying to win back the title.
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