#I have had these two stuck in my head all damn day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kamitv · 1 month

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▷ First Time?

Synopsis . When you get paired with the campus asshole, Sukuna, for a project, the last thing you expect to learn about him is that he’s a damn virgin. Nor did you expect to be the one to change that. / Pairing . virgin!Sukuna x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, oral sex (m!receiving), premature ejac, non-curse college au, dirty talk, pet names, degrading, porn w plot, teasing, taunting, filth, etc. / wc . 6k

A/N: ty to the nonnie on my main who asked if I’d ever write virgin!jjk men :3 [MDNI]

Who would’ve thought?

Of all people, Sukuna, a virgin? It just didn’t make sense.

He was this stand-offish asshole who most people respected out of pure fear. He didn’t exactly do parties and yet you could always find him at one. He’d always have some chick on his arm or even in his lap so, in what world would anyone with a brain assume he’s actually never been inside a woman before?

And to make his lack of game all the more unbelievable, he’s even rumored to have a big dick— it’s like some overly well-known campus fact about the guy.

So, again, what reason would anyone have to think the guy was a virgin?

Certainly not you, of course. And you don’t expect to be the only person to find out such information either.

The way you find out is probably even more bizarre than the fact itself. You and him had little to no reason to ever interact with each other. You weren’t some shy nerd who holed herself up in her room all day or anything but you weren’t much of the party type other.

You were stuck somewhere in the middle of all that, vicariously living through some of your friends who had better things going for them.

As such, there was no real reason for you and Sukuna to cross paths. He never even had a reason to acknowledge your existence until the two of you are paired up together for a project in the one class you happen to take together.

——

The background noise is the chatter of your fellow classmates and their own project partners, you find your partner grumbling out a low, “What?” In response to your last statement, having hardly heard a thing you said.

“I said,” You huff, sitting beside the man in question as today marks week two of you being paired up with him for this semester’s project, “We should be meeting up outside of class too. We could get his knocked out in like a day if you just-“

“Oh that,” Sukuna cuts off casually. Seated all slouched back in his seat, his legs sprawled out in that signature manspread of his— he rolls his eyes at your little reminder, “You said somethin’ about that last week.”

You speak through slightly gritted teeth, fighting the headache he’s about to give you from this conversation alone, “All the more reason for you to take it into consideration. The faster we get this done, the less we have to deal with each other.”

As you say that, you glance at him only to find his eyes directly on yours already. He’s got such lazy posture, his head tilted slightly whilst he gazes at you so intently, and his big muscular arms folded across his chest. Even wearing a black hoodie and gray sweats, he still looks as attractive as ever— mean low-lidded crimson eyes locked on yours, tattooed face so beautifully defined, and rosy lips pulled into such an uninterested little frown.

Up until your words hit his ears properly, “The less we have to deal with each other, huh?” Sukuna repeats, narrowing his eyes even further at you, “You barely even know me ‘nd yet you want nothing to do with me already.”

“I know enough about you, Sukuna,” You say with a sigh, “And you hardly contribute to this project as is. Which only proves that everything they say about you is probably true.”

He arches a brow, his interest piquing, “And what exactly do people say about me?”

You let off a light scoff, “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

“But I don’t know,” Sukuna tells you honestly, maroon eyes boring into yours.

You stare for a moment as you try to decipher whether or not he’s being honest right now. How does he not know what people say about him? Everyone talks about his brooding personality very openly.

“They say you’re an ass,” You eventually say to the man.

To which his lips twitch into a slight smirk, “And you believe that?”

“Seeing as I’ve asked you to, at the very least, type your name on this document and you haven’t even done that yet,” You scoff, “Yes.”

The two of you mildly glare at one another for a moment before Sukuna leans up in his seat. Breaking eye contact for just a moment to look at his laptop, he swiftly moves to open up that shared document of yours and types his name out with a heavy sigh.

After which, he’s slouching back again and looking at you, “Don’t believe everything people tell you, woman.”

You roll your eyes at him, “What? Are you not fond of rumors? That still doesn’t negate the fact that you’re an assho-“

“When do you want to meet up?” Sukuna grumbles out almost reluctantly, watching the way you pause and swallow thickly as he catches you off-guard.

He’s almost even intrigued by how quickly you bounce back, despite being caught by surprise, “Friday. Are you free?”

“Unfortunately,” He grumps.

You give him a little shrug, “Good. I’ll see you then.”

And that was it. That was how each and every interaction with you and Sukuna went. Bickering back and forth about him not doing shit to help you with something that’ll affect your grade majorly, criticizing you about being too focused and needing to relax every now and then, and even calling you a stuck-up little brat one time— it was safe to say, you and Sukuna didn’t get along too well.

Not that you minded anyway. He wasn’t your first partner to care little about their grade so, you knew how to deal with these kinds of people by now. Typically, you indulge yourself in their craving to ‘relax’ just once and then they promise to start helping. You’ve gone down that path before and it’s worked for you then so you assume things will go the same way with Sukuna.

Plus, you guess you can give him a slight pass for his asshole attitude, at least he has a pretty face to look at. Dark ink always decorating his awfully smooth skin, deep dark yet beautiful ruby-shaded eyes boring into whatever it is his focus on, and broad shoulders looming over your smaller figure every time he stands in front of you— you can't help but feel both attracted and intimidated by the man.

——

Which is exactly why when you open your apartment door for the scheduled meetup that Friday to crane your head up at him, you’re swallowing thickly to settle your nerves. You’ve never been alone with the man so of course you’re a bit nervous.

Especially with the way he gazes down at you like that’s exactly where you belong: beneath him. His eyes are filled to the brim with intensity and yet he’s only just set them on you. Wearing a noticeable black compression shirt and those signature gray sweets of his, he almost appears as though he’d just come from the gym.

And just as you take in his appearance, he very openly takes in yours— his eyes raking over your body and taking in every single inch of you. After all, just as it was your first time alone with him, it was his first time seeing you dress so comfortably. He doesn’t even try to hide the way he stares at your tits peeking out from the rather thin spaghetti-strap top you were wearing, his eyes soon trailing down slowly to those tauntingly short shorts you had on.

“So,” Sukuna swipes his tongue over his lips and cocks his head to the side, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes yet to lift from your legs, “Are you gonna stare at me all day or are you gonna let me in?”

You blink out of whatever little daze you were in, having found yourself gazing at his chest far longer than you meant to. It was right in front of your face after all, how could you look anywhere else? And his shirt was so damn tight, the fabric hugging his well-toned body perfectly, so much so that you swore you could make out piercings on his-

Sukuna leans forward suddenly, his face nearing yours to gain your full attention, “If you keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna assume you invited me over for something else-“

“Sorry,” You chirp out as you clear your throat and awkwardly step back a bit to let him in, “You can come in.”

Nodding, Sukuna slips by you and you shut your apartment door behind him. Then, you’re quick to lead him over to your living room where you’d previously been working on your project.

The two of you are hasty to take a seat on your couch, both of you only a few inches apart from one another whilst you lean toward your coffee table and log into your already open laptop. Sukuna’s eyes are all over you as always, studying your side profile, your intent focus on the screen in front of you, and even the way you-

“Did you even bring anything?” You suddenly ask before you glance at the man.

Sukuna quickly meets your gaze, ripping his eyes off of wherever they’d been previously, “Was I supposed to?”

“Sukuna,” You sigh out, “Please tell me you’re joking right now.”

He swallows at the mere sound of his name rolling off your tongue in that scolding tone of yours— he’s heard such a tone from you time and time again and yet, for whatever reason, it never seems to annoy him.

“I’m not.” He says plainly.

“How are we supposed to work on this if you-,” You cut yourself off and decide not to even attempt arguing with him. Arguing won’t change the fact that he showed up with nothing. “Just uhm,” You glance elsewhere for a second before an idea comes to mind and you place your laptop down and stand up, “Stay here.”

Sukuna doesn’t say anything. He merely watches as you huff and walk off, swiftly exiting the living room and disappearing down a nearby hall. He swears he finds himself looking at you a bit more than intended. Especially as you walked off, his eyes dropping to your ass and those damn shorts of yours.

Even when you’re out of his sight, he still finds himself staring in the direction of which you went, almost unable to look away for whatever strange reason.

That lasts for a few minutes until he snaps out of it and leans back against the couch, tossing his head back and letting out a long sigh. You soon return to find him with an arm stretched along the back of the couch, his legs spread as usual, and his eyes up on the ceiling.

He doesn’t even notice you’ve returned until he feels something placed in his lap. Looking down, Sukuna finds your laptop kindly set on top of him. To which his brows furrowed in confusion and he looked at you to see you sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table with a paper and pencil in front of you.

“What’s this?” Sukuna scoffs.

You don’t even spare him a glance as you begin writing something down, “How we’ll get things done.” He opens his mouth to say something but then you’re looking back at him with a glare, “I already organized the parts of this project that you have to do so, since it’s on my computer, you can work on that and I’ll work with what I remember.”

You wholeheartedly expected him to find something about this to disagree with you on but, to your surprise, he simply nods and redirects his focus to your laptop immediately.

And then, the two of you work exactly like that for the remainder of that little study session.

——

Sukuna’s not terrible to work with when it’s just you and him. If anything, he’s rather cooperative and a lot smarter than he leads on.

Which is why a solid two hours of productivity flies by surprisingly smoothly with him. If you asked him a question, he answered. Told him to do something, he’d say something snarky, and then do whatever it is you’ve instructed anyway.

It all went so perfectly up until he let out a really heavy sigh, “Alright, I’ve had enough for this.” Sukuna says casually.

He’s been repeating a similar phrase every thirty minutes or so but he usually gets right back to work after getting ignored by you. This time though, you get the feeling he’s serious when he pushes your laptop off of his lap and places it forward on the coffee table.

It’s then that you frown, “Oh c’mon, we were getting so much done,” You comment as you glance back to him.

He shrugs, “I can’t keep looking at that damn screen, it’s giving me a headache.”

“Of course it is,” You utter sarcastically, rolling your eyes whilst you place your pencil down and throw your arms up to stretch, “Fine then, we can take a break.”

Sukuna’s brows lift in surprise. He didn’t expect you to listen to him, “Good.” He hums, “I was getting bored as well.”

You scoff, “Were you?”

“Yeah, can we do something else?” He asks.

Turning around, you rotate the way you’re sitting so that you’re facing him and your back is resting against your coffee table. “Like what?” You muse, meeting his low-lidded gaze.

“Talk,” Sukuna says.

That’s it? He wanted a break to talk to you? Your eyes are narrowing at him before you even realize, “Talk?” You repeat with a scoff, “Seriously?”

He nods, “Mhm.”

“What do you wanna talk about, Sukuna?” As you ask him that, you watch the way his eyes casually slide down to your lips.

Does he mean to be this indiscreet with his looks? Or is he eyeing you down like that on purpose?

The man shrugs, “Anything outside of fuckin’ school.”

You laugh at that, “Okay, I can work with that.”

He tilts his head at you and licks his lips, “Yeah?” Something about your little laugh threw him off.

“Mhm,” You hum as you look down at your hand, fiddling with your nails a bit, “The rumors… are they true?”

Thrown off yet again, Sukuna’s brows pinch together. “Rumors?” He echoes in a genuinely confused tone, “What rumors, woman?”

The sound of your scoff makes him stiffen in his seat. Almost in an instant, the atmosphere had changed suddenly. “C’mon, don’t play dumb,” You tease, lifting your gaze to him again, “The rumors about you.”

He gives you a perplexed look and it’s almost as though you could see the gears in his head turning. “If you know something, say it.” He demands.

You sigh, “Sukuna, do you seriously hear nothing people say about you?”

Sukuna shrugs, “I don’t care enough to remember. So what is it? What rumor?”

You’re just curious. You swear that’s all it was. And, naturally, since he seemed to have warmed up to you— of course you wanted to know if that rumor about his dick was true. You’re both adults and it’s just a silly question. Plus, with the way he’s been looking at you all afternoon, you’re sure he won’t mind answering you with a simple yes or no.

Glancing to the side, your shoulders lift a bit, “It’s uh, rather intimate.” You hush out.

Sukuna narrows his eyes at you, “Intimate?? An intimate rumor about me?”

His emphasis on himself makes your eyes flick back over to him. “Yeah, are you sure you don’t know what they say about you??” You ask again.

“Positive. Now speak, what is it they say?” Sukuna huffs impatiently, even more curious about this little rumor after the mention of it being intimate. After all, he’s never-

“People say you have a big dick,” You utter way too casually.

So nonchalantly that it makes him choke, a choke you don’t mess with the way he clears his throat and sits up a little. “What?” He rasps out.

You bat those stupidly false innocent eyes at him, “I didn’t stutter,” Your tone dips into something different and he catches every bit of it, “People say you have a big dick, is it true?”

Sukuna clears his throat and for the first time, he glances away from you. Then, he opens and closes his mouth, contemplating his next words carefully before they soon fall from his lips, “You wanna find out?”

His offer spurs a shift in your seat from you as you scoot closer to him ever so slightly, “You wanna show me?” You ask boldly, your tone direct, and not even a flicker of hesitation present.

“Do I want to-,” Sukuna pauses, his eyes scanning the entirety of your seated frame as you inch closer to him, “What?” He huffs, swallowing thickly.

You move to stand on your knees and lean forward to the couch, soon propping your chin up on your palm as you look at him, “Show me,” You chuckle, “I asked if you wanted to show me, Sukuna.”

He blinks, “Show you my cock?”

You shrug, “Yeah.”

The air is so thick right now, Sukuna’s not sure how exactly he can play this off without making a fool of himself. He gulps yet again, only to watch as your eyes start to drop down along his body.

“Stop,” He rushes out, “Keep your eyes up here. On mine,” He commands in a low tone, earning your gaze once more.

And then it’s quiet for a moment. He’s staring at you and you’re obediently keeping your eyes up on his. Sukuna hates it but he doesn’t know what to say or do from here. The last thing he wanted was for you to find out his little secret.

It’s like he was waiting for a fucking pin to drop, something to break the silence. Yet, his mind was going blank and words were failing him at the moment. He’s flirted with women before, plenty of times actually, effortlessly even— but for whatever reason, as you sit there with those stupidly pretty eyes staring at him, his mind simply flakes on him.

He’s like that for a minute longer until you move. So subtly too, sliding a hand to his thigh, leaning forward slightly, batting your lashes at him, “Sukuna?” You whisper.

His hips are rolling upward slightly at the sound of his name alone. “W-What?” He stammers, mentally cursing himself a thousand times over.

“If you don’t wanna show me you can jus’ say no,” You hum, smiling a bit, “Y’know that, right?”

He scoffs, “Of course I know that, woman.”

“If you know that then…” Your fingers lightly squeeze his thigh and you tilt your head, “Are you gonna tell me or show me whether or not those rumors are true?”

Something simply clicks inside Sukuna’s head. Rose-tinted lips cracking into a smirk, the man spreads his legs further and slouches back into the couch, “Find out for yourself since you’re so curious.”

Your eyes go wide, “What?”

Sukuna scoffs lightly, moving one of his arms from the back of the couch and placing his hand over his crotch. Of course, your gaze sinks down to his veiny hand, watching as he palms a stupidly large bulge in his sweats.

Your breath hitches a bit, “I-I-“

You don’t even get the chance to get it out before he’s cutting you off, “C’mere,” Sukuna hums in that low voice of his.

“What?” You whisper.

You and him make eye contact again and he nods his chin toward the space in between his legs. Nothing can really explain why you follow his gesture and quickly find yourself sitting in between his legs, taking a deep breath as you settle your hands on his thighs.

Sliding your touch up and up and up until your fingers graze his hand. The same hand that was resting on top of that aching bulge of his.

Sukuna slowly lifts his hand up and away, relaxing his arm on the back of the couch again as he stares down at you. Cocking his head to the side, “Well? Feel it.” He huffs.

You don’t even hesitate. Trailing your fingers upward carefully until you feel the outline of his cock beneath your fingertips, gulping as you drag your hand up to cup his length in your hand firmly, and smirking at the way his cock twitches furiously beneath your small touch.

Sukuna’s mouth falls open for a second but you’re too engrossed in feeling him to notice. He lets out a shuddered breath as he watches the way you grope his steadily growing erection. His head even tosses back and his fingers dig into the couch for a moment.

“It is big,” You whisper to yourself, your words only making him twitch more within your hand.

“Fuck,” Sukuna grits out lowly, hips unconsciously lifting to press himself further against you.

His curse earns your attention. You quickly glance up to him and see the way he’s got his head tossed back, Adam's apple bobbing with every heavy gulp he takes, and his chest rising and falling rather quickly.

You lift your hand carefully and decide to test something out. Slowly, you lean forward and just barely press your lips against his clothed cock.

Sukuna’s whole body reacts. He gasps louder than he means to and he’s weaving his fingers through your hair faster than he realizes, palming your scalp as he quickly looks down at you. “T-The fuck are you doing? Huh?” He huffs while gripping onto your hair.

You lift your head a bit but he keeps you in place, despite his question to you. “I just…” You’re not exactly sure you can explain yourself.

And by this point, Sukuna doesn’t think he cares enough to hear an excuse from you, “…You what? You wanna see it?”

All you can do is give him a little nod before he moves his free hand to the drawstring of his sweatpants. Then you're quick to help him tug them down until his boxers are revealed to you— a noticeable dampness in the fabric right where his leaking tip is. Was that because of you?

Before you can dawn on your own questions, Sukuna’s moving to tug his cock out. And fuck is he even bigger revealed before your eyes. With an upward curve, such an angry flushed tip, precum dripping from the slit of his fat cockhead, veins decorating his shaft and-

Shit, you were drooling. How’d you get like this again?? Ah, who cares?

“Sukuna,” You breathe out, ripping your eyes away from his cock just to look up at him.

He was almost panting, dark maroon eyes pouring down into yours, face flushed with different shades of red and pink, his lips parted softly— hell, he looked like he was in heat or something.

Gulping before he answers you, Sukuna clears his throat and his voice is already husky, “What?”

You shift against the floor, your hands relaxing against his large thighs, “Can I-“

“Yeah,” He cuts off. Lord knows if you got that question out he was going to lose his damn mind.

You raise a brow and lean forward, keeping your eyes on his while your lips near his tip, “Yeah?”

The last thing you get from him is a nod before you’re parting your lips. And from that moment forward, it all goes downhill. Everything from the way you’re sitting in between his legs to that initial connection of your plush lips against his drooling cock had Sukuna’s mind spinning.

He’s never been sucked off before. Hell, the farthest he’s gone as far as sexual activities are concerned is a little bit of dry humping. But this? Oh hell, this was his first time and he had zero idea how he was going to keep that information away from you.

Especially when he feels your tongue slip from between your lips and swirl around the head of his cock, kittenly lapping up that slim layer of precum sitting so prettily on his tip.

“Oh f-fuuck,” Sukuna groans huskily, the hand on your head gripping tighter.

You pull away from him slightly just to take in his expression and the way he tosses his head back. It was almost cute to you. The last thing you expected was for him to be so damn sensitive, you hardly did anything.

His sensitivity only worsens as you finally start wrapping your lips around his cock, feeling him throb when you sink your mouth down on him. Sukuna’s jaw goes slack and his brows twist up. He tries his best to hold it in but he can’t help but moan at the way you leisurely suck on half of his lengthy cock.

Your saliva wets up the rest of his shaft and you make up for what your mouth hasn’t reached yet with your hand, stroking him lightly whilst you take the rest of his girth in and out of your mouth. Rolling your tongue around him, pulling off just to messily spit and kiss on his blushing tip, and slobbering all over him— Sukuna almost fucking kicked something with how good your mouth felt around him.

He’s used his hand and other shit before but holy fuck, nothing, and he means nothing compares to that damn mouth of yours. The way you look with his cock stuffed right in between those lips he’s been staring at for God knows how long— your lips all slick with spit, eyes rolling back the deeper you take him, and tongue sticking out every time you pull your mouth off of him.

You soon slip your mouth off of him and start jerking him off, focusing your tongue on his tip and slithering the wet muscle in between the slit of his cock, lathering your tongue up with his glistening precum.

The sound of Sukuna groaning makes you look up at him, finding his eyes on yours again. He’s panting, trying his best to look like this wasn’t phasing him but failing in every way with how flushed his face was.

Your tongue sticks out and your hand continues to slide up and down his cock as you tap his tip on your tongue, making his brows twist up.

He bites back a throaty sound, “Hah… damn brat,” Sukuna huffs out as if to… degrade you?

You almost find it cute how clearly inexperienced he is, spitting a fat wad of spit onto his pretty wet tip and then smiling at him, “Sukuna,” You coo, your hand gripping his shaft tighter, “Is this your first time?”

He instantly looks off to the side, the veins in his neck and along his jawline tensing as he grits his teeth. Since he decides to ignore your little question, you take it a step further and slide your hand down his cock, gripping his thick base firmly before taking him into your heavenly warm mouth again.

His expression breaks completely, “Oh shit,” Sukuna moans, his hips bucking up into your mouth as you slide him deeper into your mouth than you did before.

Then his hand is pushing your head down further on instinct and he’s subtly rutting his hips up. You lift your head up despite his constant pushing, soon causing your head to bob up and down whilst you suck him off skillfully.

“Jus’ like that,” Sukuna suddenly groans and you moan around his cock in reaction. To which he keeps giving your mouth mindless little thrusts, “Don’t s-, agh, stop.”

Sucking him deeper and deeper before you move your hand completely, you suck in a deep breath of air through your nose, open up the very back of your throat, and sink all the way down, your lips meeting his pelvis as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Sukuna kicks something. Probably your coffee table with the way one of his legs extends out so suddenly, a choked-out groan ripped from his throat as your little move was all it took for him to cum. And it’s so much too, hot thick ropes of cum spurting down your throat, his hand holding onto your head for dear life whilst a moan of your name rolls off his tongue.

You’re still sucking too, pulling up only to swallow what he’s gifted you and then stick your tongue out. Laying it flat against his tip, you leisurely lick at him as if to beg for more and now the man’s pushing your head away for the first time.

When you lift your eyes up to him again, you notice he’s got his tattooed arm over his mouth and his lashes are batting softly at you. For such a big man, he was so ridiculously cute right now. Panting, sweating, cursing under his breath as if you couldn’t hear him.

“Yeah,” Sukuna utters suddenly, clearing his throat, “That was… my first… time. I uh-“

“Do you want more?” Is the last thing you asked him before you were sitting back on your heels and he was stumbling to his feet.

You had to guide him through it of course but, Sukuna doesn’t hesitate to stuff your face full of his cock again. You take him so kindly too, obediently sitting there with your hands gripping his thighs for support with every careful thrust of his hips.

He was trying to be gentle with you at first. Partially because he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, and also because he just loved the initial entry into your mouth. Over and over, Sukuna slid his dick in and out of your mouth like he was possessed, addicted to the feeling of you greedily sucking on him.

He was still sensitive from his first orgasm but his cock had yet to go down— twitching inside that sloppy mouth of yours, aching against your tongue, and dripping into the depths of your throat. Sukuna wasn’t much of a talker but he damn sure let out a plethora of grunts and groans.

They were so husk too, coming from deep within his chest, some getting caught in his throat when he felt your tongue flick against a specific vein on the underside of his cock. His fat tip knocked into the back of your throat with a single heavy thrust before his hands were latching onto the sides of your head.

Again, he’s not much of a talker but, something seems to come over him all at once because soon he’s got his gaze locked down on the messy sight of you and he’s huffing out words before he realizes. “Eyes up here, c’mon, hah… look at me,” Sukuna grunts.

Your eyes are completely glossed over as they flutter up to him. A moan vibrates against his skin as you make such intimate eye contact with the man, feeling his hips pick up.

Sukuna nods, “Good girl,” He praises in a low purr, and fuck does that do wonders for you because your legs are squeezing together more than they were before and you’re whining against him. “Fuck, y’like that?” He huffs, earning a sloppy lil’ nod from you.

He then feels you hum, “M-Mhm.” And he’s got chills slipping up his spine in pleasure.

Cracking a lazy, lopsided, and almost fucked-out little smirk, Sukuna scoffs, “Yeah? Fuck, behind all those g-glares ‘nd-, agh, scolding me… this is all you wanted, hm? A throat full of cock?”

His words had you whining again, fluttering your lashes at him as your fingertips dug into his thighs a little. Sukuna eases his hips back slowly, tipping his head to the side as he gently caresses the side of your face with his thumb.

“Messy girl,” He hums deeply, biting his lower lip at the way you’re just drooling for more and more as he pulls himself out of your mouth completely. “Jus’ look at this face,” Sukuna chuckles, “Y’look like a slut cryin’ like that— it’s cute.”

Blinking, you hadn’t even realized you had a tear or two sliding down your face. Your mouth remains open for a second before he moves to rub his tip against your plump lips, smearing your spit and his cum all over the damn place with a little grin on his face.

“‘Kuna…” You whisper, earning a quirk of his brow, “I can’t believe you’re a virg-“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” He grunts, moving a thumb to your chin to widen how open your mouth is for him, “Jus’… keep sittin’ there lookin’ pretty f’me,” Sukuna says.

You roll your eyes at him and all he can do is smile, pushing his hips forward again and easing his cock in between your lips. He slides in slowly until you can feel him pressing right against the back of your throat. To which he keeps himself there for a second, testing that gag reflex of yours and watching your eyes water.

Moving his hand back to the top of your head, he buries his fingers in your hair, “So fuckin’ sexy like this,” Sukuna compliments, feeling you moan in response, “M’gonna cum again, stay j-just like that,” He breathes out heavily, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull before he’s throwing his head back.

And as if to coax his orgasm out, you carefully move a hand to cup his balls, sucking on his cock as best as you can and earning an accidental sound from his throat. The second your palm is felt against him, the moment he feels your tongue slicking against him, Sukuna whines.

Then his thighs are tensing and he’s groaning loudly as if to cover up the sound that just left his lips, filling your throat with his seed and then tugging your mouth off of him with a quick pull of your head. You’re quick to swallow for yet a second time, letting out a needed cough after the fact while he stumbles back just a bit, his calves hitting the couch.

“Vixen,” Sukuna growls.

You clear your throat and send a smile his way, “Not my fault you cum easy.”

Sukuna’s slow to sit back down on the couch to catch his breath, “Tell anyone about this ‘nd I’ll-“

“Oh,” You suddenly purr, cutting him off as you lift yourself up from the ground. He watches with slightly widened eyes as you move to straddle him, “Don’t tell me you thought we were done?”

He’s at a loss for words all over again, his confidence suddenly getting caught in his throat and flying out the window. Your hands slip to his broad shoulders and you lean forward a little.

Sukuna’s hands shakily find their way to your waist as he stares up at you, “You want more?”

You smirk, tilting your head at the dumbfounded male, “Don’t you?” You ask in a sultry little whisper, making his sensitive cock twitch once more. “At the very least…” Your lips slowly near his and he’s losing his breath, “Taste yourself, Sukuna.”

And then your lips are on his and he’s taking your tongue into his mouth. His grip on your waist tightens before he pulls you flush against him, feeling your crotch press right against his cock that’s steadily twitching back to life.

The two of you share a heated and messy kiss, your hips carefully swaying against him to encourage his returning arousal. You can’t really use curiosity as an excuse anymore, can you?

Well, you can. And you do with the way your hands slide down to his chest, your fingers slipping over his nipples to find exactly what you’d been curious about. You flick your fingers over his piercing there and Sukuna lets out a low hiss, prying his lips from yours and sending you a glare.

Not only did that little move of yours make his cock spring up completely but, you also notice the frown on his face.

Smiling at him, “Sukuna…”

“Don’t.” He huffs.

“You have nipple piercings?” You end up asking anyway in a happy little tone.

He grits his teeth slightly, “…Obviously.”

Chuckling, you press a soft peck against his lips and whisper, “Can I see them?”

“No.” He replies.

Part two.

3K notes · View notes

neopuppy · 2 months

Text

Boys Like U (M)

pairing. jeno x female reader

genre. summer vacation AU, friends enemies who fuck, , love triangleish, M/F, smut, pwp, angst, fluff, one shot

warnings. profanity, alcohol mentioned, mean Jeno, explicit smut, mild slut-shaming, jealousy, possessive behavior, y/n is Mark’s cousin, side characters. smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

wc. 19k

now playing. Boys Like You//Tanerélle

a/n. before you assume anything has been stolen and plagiarized please remember that I *am* @drunkhazed😑💚

smut warnings. dry humping/with an audience(a bit dubcon), rough and unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, under negotiated kinks, improper aftercare, choking, slapping, multiple orgasms, over-stimulation, manhandling(y/n can be lifted and thrown around), degradation, humiliation, etc

♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡

Summertime and the livin’s easy

The same lyrics repeat over and over again. Jaemin’s been looping this same god damn song for the last hour, wailing along with the lyrics like a banshee.

“I love her so bad, but she treats me like shit!” He’s been singing along the entire time too. Sniffling tears away from his eyes, earning another round of groans from everyone trapped inside of the car with him.

“Enough dude!” Haechan shouts, reaching to switch the song. “I can’t fucking take it anymore. It’s summertime and the livin’s easy! Not fucking summertime and torture my fucking friends.”

“Jaemin- listen man, I know this break up has been hard on you, but you don’t have to make all of us suffer with you!” Renjun adds, reaching around the driver’s seat to massage his shoulders.

“Definitely not the best way to go about that..” Jisung mumbles, pinching the skin between his eyebrows.

“Screw her dude, we’re gonna find you so much pussy to lose yourself in the next couple of weeks.” Haechan cheers, reaching over to pat Jaemin’s stomach right as the tears he’s been trying to hold in burst free. “Aw man, gross. Don’t do that!”

Evil, I’ve come to tell you that she’s evil, most definitely

Falling in love must be horrible.

Jeno should probably say something, Jaemin’s his best friend after all.. but they’ve been talking about Jini nonstop for the past 30 days now! And they break up every other month! She said it was for good this time.. but he can’t help to think that’s a lie. Renjun’s not exactly wrong, they’ve been excited about this trip for days now. He’s half-way to throwing out a ‘suck it up!’ right before they exit the Pacific coast highway and he lets out a huge sigh.

“You know I’m right man, enough is enough.” Renjun leans in closer to his ear, whispering low enough for only Jisung and Jeno to catch.

“He’s still our friend..” Jisung mutters, pursing his lips into a thin line.

“I can already smell the coconut tanning lotion melting on fat juicy titties.” Haechan shoves his head out of the passenger seat window. Eyes shut, sucking down a long-winded inhale of the ocean breeze infiltrating the car. “Fuck, I love summer!!!” He shouts out happily, smacking the side of the jeep.

Jaemin breaks into a smile, shaking off the tears that managed to escape. “You guys are right, next time I bring her up—hit me upside my head or something. It’s one our our last summer’s out here, we need to have the best time.”

“That’s my boy!” Renjun yells, wrapping a playful chokehold around his throat. “We’re gonna have the best time!”

“We’re here!” Jaemin shouts out between laughs, slapping at Renjun’s arms still firmly wrapped around his neck.

“Fucking finally.”

Jeno stretches his limbs out, back cracking as he arches back and lets out the deepest and loudest yawn after sitting cramped up in the backseat of Jaemin’s jeep for the last five hours. A ride that could have been less cramped if everyone had stuck to only packing one bag for the next two weeks and Renjun hadn’t changed his plans last minute to tag along.

“You made it!” Mark’s cheerful boisterous giggle sounds out from the front door, throwing it open to run down the driveway in his flip flops that clap loudly against the pavement. Immediately breaking into a round of high-fives and hugs to greet all of them.

“Course we did Markie! Even though Jaemin made us stop five damn times to piss.” Haechan snickers, glaring toward the backseat of his car.

“I drank an entire large cold brew!” Jaemin says to defend himself, waving around the now empty large plastic cup. “Forgot how long this drive is.”

“See, this is what Hannah Montana meant when she said nodding my head like yeah! Moving my hips like yeah! You know I’m gonna be okay!” Haechan sings out terribly, adding a sway of his hips with his arms held up toward the sky. “It’s a party in the USA!”

“Ugh.” Jisung grimaces, dragging his bag past Renjun who joins him, bumping their hips into each other.

Jeno can’t stop the smile from forming on his face, rolling his eyes as he takes in the street. Not much has changed, palm trees full as ever, bright sunlight burning down on the concrete. Santa Barbara really has a charm that Santa Monica can’t compare to.

It is a long drive, especially to be stuck together with his friends all maintaining different levels of energy and patience, but it’s worth it every single time. Because for some reason Mark’s parents agreed to loaning out their beach house a couple of weeks out of the year during summer for their son and his friends to fuck around. The reason really being that he’s spoiled rotten and they cut a deal that as long as a few of his family members can tag along, the summer house is all his.

That’s where you enter.

The first summer Jeno was allowed to venture out to Santa Barbara with his friends was also the first summer he met you. It’s not his favorite memory, in fact, he fucking hates how clearly he remembers every detail from that day.

‘This is my cousin.’ Mark had introduced you with his usual cheerful smile, motioning to his friends that responded with their names one by one.

‘A girl.’ Jaemin mumbled, nudging Jeno’s side.

‘I didn’t think she’d actually want to come after I told her that all of you guys were joining me, but we always hang out during summer since she lives kind of far. You guys don’t mind right?’

‘As long as she doesn’t care, I don’t see anything wrong with having her around.’ Jisung said with his thumbs held up, nodding hard enough for his hair to bounce around.

Yeah. What’s the big deal? Sure, you’re pretty, maybe even one of the prettiest girls Jeno’s ever seen before. And yeah, you smell great, wafting your scent around each time you flip your hair away from your shoulders. Not to add on that he also noticed how you only seem to look away when you find him staring at you.

Jaemin easily started joking around with you, even including you in on some of their legendary inside jokes right away. Haechan, he’s always helpful and cool, cutting up fruit for you and checking to see if you need more snacks or something to drink. Even Renjun, who’s usually awkward around girls, got close to you after a night of a heated Monopoly game while the power went out.

Jeno should have asked if he could join too, desperately racking his brain for how he could break the ice and get to know you better. It shouldn’t be this hard, right? Except it is, because his mouth gets more dry when you’re around. His bottom lip grows raw from biting down on it, his nails get bitten down to nothing but skin, even bleeding at times. He’s a mess in your presence and can’t even figure out why. Surely it has nothing to do with how his chest pinches and pounds faster the second you enter his proximity.

The last time he felt this way was probably junior high when he had a crush— wait no, that wouldn’t make sense. He doesn’t have a crush or anything like that, no way.

Not that his dickhead friends would agree as they laughed and wiggled their eyebrows at him insisting they play spin the bottle.

‘Come on, we’ll make it interesting, the bottle lands on you and you have to choose truth or dare. We’re kind of an uneven number to be playing tonsil hockey right now anyways.’

Haechan smirked, dragging his tongue across his lips. ‘You got nothing to hide anyway, Jeno.’

Great. Fucking pricks. They wouldn’t ask him something about you if he chooses dare. That would be so fucked up, but also- that does not explain why Jaemin winked at him, and why Renjun kept nudging into his side. How the hell can they tell? Has he been too obvious?

‘Oh Jeno! It’s your lucky day!’

The tip of the emptied glass bottle unceremoniously comes to a halt directly pointed at his figure. He sighs, head dropping back as he shakes it back and forth to avoid your curious gaze from across the circle you’ve all ended up in.

It’s still as clear as if it happened just yesterday, and he fucking hates it. Hates that he can still remember the look of disgust forever ruining your pretty face. The loud obnoxious ‘eww!’ You shrieked as his friends bursted out laughing around him after he admitted to finding you cute.

It should have been harmless. He should have fucking gone for a dare, anything better than the rush of embarrassment that sped up to his cheeks and rapidly lit them up to a mortifying shade of red.

God, what was he thinking? Why the hell did he even answer Jaemin’s stupid question honestly!

‘No bullshit alright dude, you into her?’ He smirked, nodding your direction. A look of fear and worry scattered all over your face as he peered back and forth between the two of you.

‘I mean, yeah sure. She’s pretty cute.’

It was innocent, and maybe he had expected—hoped for a better reaction. What would it hurt to imagine you’d reciprocate his feelings? God, it was so dumb, his biggest regret for the last 7 years; even worse than the first time he got high and ran around in his boxers with his ass crack fully out. Albeit, the photos to remind him of his actions the next day didn’t help, he’s never been able to forget that look on your face. Your disgusted repulsed face that he’s only ever seen once, when he fucking called you cute.

Not to mention the way you avoided him after as if he had leprosy, too grossed out to even accept the dishes he set down in front of you for lunch the next day.

Flat out cruel and mean for no reason, making it very clear to him that you wanted nothing to do with him.

Fine.

If that’s the way you want to spend your summer vacation together, then he’d make sure to give you a real reason to hate him.

It started with smearing nutella on your swimsuits that were hanging out to dry. Then purposely aiming the ball at your head during the pool game of volleyball you had the next day, not even apologizing as he smiled and shrugged.

‘Not my fault this airhead can’t see for shit.’

That must have really hit a nerve, sporting a frown throughout the rest of the game until you gave up and refused to continue playing after he accidentally punted the ball right at your face.

Any time he had the chance to grill or cook, he always made sure to make your plate of food extra crispy, real charred.

‘I thought that’s how you liked it, burnt to a crisp.’ He’d smile proudly, scraping a knife down the blackened hotdog he set down for you.

Of course it was childish, he was fucking fifteen years old and you bruised his ego to hell and back as far as he was concerned. Had him pulling at his face in the mirror before bed, tussling his hair, double checking the scent of his body after showering, analyzing his clothes and lack of developed muscle.

You didn’t have to act like he was the most repulsive boy to ever walk the earth! And the reality is, it hurt.

It hurt so bad, he had to shake off the moisture forming behind his eyes after heading to his bedroom, unable to turn off the repeated cry of disgust you let out after all he said is that you’re cute. A harmless fucking compliment.

Really, as much as he hates to say it- you’re a real bitch.

Jeno’s mother would be appalled if she could hear his thoughts when it comes to you. He was raised to be polite, only to respect women. But you, something about you seriously pisses him the fuck off.

It’s not because he likes you. Even his friends were convinced after those first two weeks that you two hated each other, because of course you decided to retaliate. Cutting holes into his swim trunks, pouring itching powder all over his bed, filling his sunscreen bottle up with hair removal cream that left painful welts on his skin after rubbing it in like lotion and laying in the sun.

You. You’re seriously such a bitch, he can’t stand it. Can’t control how his rage rises to a boiling point the second he even catches a glimpse of you. You’re quite possibly the most fucking annoying girl he’s ever met, maybe the only girl that has ever annoyed him this much.

And yet his eyes still scan the room for your presence as he steps inside of the house he’s spent the last 7 summers at. The same room he gave you a kiss in against your will. Right in front of everyone, your cousin, his friends. The night he revisits in his memories time and time again that he can’t move on from.

It was all Jisung’s fault.

‘Fine.’ Jisung smirks mischievously, rubbing his hands together. ‘We’re too old for childish games.’

‘Finally, someone with sense.’ Jeno adds, still pouring salt on his wounds from the time he got stuck inside of a closet with you for seven minutes.

‘Not so fast Jeno. I said childish games, not games in general, and there is one we’ve yet to play.’

‘Here we go.’ Haechan grunts, motioning toward his friend and rolling his eyes. He’s been chatting up some of the girls they met at the beach earlier for the last couple of hours. Refilling their cups and flexing his thin bare arms to entice them. ‘Come on Ji, you always want to play these stupid games.’

’Well, are you too chicken?‘ Jisung’s grin grows larger, raising his eyebrows.

Are you too chicken? He repeated deviously, eyeing everyone around the room. They all refuted his suspicions, turning the question around on him until he agreed to go first and was dared to break Haechan’s cool demeanor

The room erupted with hoots and hollers as he plopped his ass down on the olders lap and Haechan stuttered, eyebrows furrowed together, teeth clenched to hold back a curse.

‘Ji, get the fuck off of me.’

‘Do you give up?’

‘Fuck off.’

Haechan choked on his spit, coughing and shoving the younger away once their lips grazed together. Sitting up without falter, Jisung raised his arms triumphantly. ‘And that is how you play chicken.’

Another stupid game, only now drinks are involved, sipping on tepid beer as he watches Jaemin and Haechan lock lips before both losing at the same time. Dramatically spitting and swiping at their mouths as they kick at each other.

‘YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO KISS ME BACK ASSHOLE!’

Embarrassment covered their faces as the girls surrounding giggled and cooed, letting them know they looked so cute kissing.

‘Fine fine! We start over from whoever hasn’t spun the bottle yet.’ Mark interrupts the ruckus, pointing toward Jeno. ‘Your turn.’

‘Not playing.’

‘And why is that?’ Jisung asks with an arched up eyebrow. ‘Scared?’

‘We know why..’ Renjun mumbles by his side, earning a round of snorts and hushed laughs from his friends.

They know exactly how to get under his skin, how to force his hand to grab onto the stupid bottle. Gripping the body of the emptied glass hard enough to feel the sticky residue left behind from the label that was peeled off. He gulps, refusing to glance around, not wanting to risk the chance of meeting your gaze.

There’s no way he can actually be so unlucky, not twice. The bottle will land on one of his friends, one of the girls they picked up. It won’t land on you, not again. The universe can’t be that cruel to him.

As he watches the bottle slow down, he swallows hard, eyes falling shut right as it comes to a stop. Confirming that some God out there must be an actual monster intent to ruin his life.

‘The two people who hate each other.’ Jaemin laughs out loud, clasping his hands together. ‘This should be good.’

‘Don’t forget the rules.’ Jisung coughs out nervously, nodding toward you. ‘If you don’t want to continue, you forfeit.’

‘Don’t kiss me.’ You murmured, trying to be quiet enough for only him to hear. ‘Please.’

Jeno contemplated ending this fast and doing just that, would you give up before his lips could even get a small taste of yours? Not as if he even wants to know what the lip gloss you’re constantly reapplying tastes like anymore..

‘Go.’ Renjun motions to the both of you, flapping his hands.

If you don’t want him to kiss you, he’ll have to come up with something else. Taking in a deep breath to raise his confidence, he reaches to push loose strands of hair behind your ear; gaining rounds of gasps and amused sounds from your audience.

Wide eyes full of uncertainty, or maybe even dread, stare back at him anticipating his next move. There’s no point in bothering to ask if you’re okay with this, obviously you aren’t. Given the way your nose wrinkles as he moves closer to you and cups your cheeks.

Soft, warm, so squishy beneath his palms that have been beat up from falling off his skateboard and landing hands first against pavement for years. You’re as pretty as ever up close, maybe even prettier. Churning his stomach as he looks over your lips, appearing to be pouting out enticingly on purpose if you ask him. And yet you don’t want a kiss, anything but that..

‘Don’t.’ You whisper again, hardly moving your mouth.

‘Don’t what.’ He repeats monotonously, thumbs slowly sliding down your cheeks. His curious gaze follows, eyeing the swimsuit cover up you have on. The damp one-piece hot pink suit underneath.

Jeno forgets momentarily that this is just a game, that you hate him, that his friends are all snorting and chuckling around you other than Mark who has his eyes covered. He forgets that he’s parting your thighs open to make space for himself against your will, smoothing his hands up your shivering soft inner thighs.

‘She’ll definitely crack..’ Jaemin’s sitting the closests to you, speaking to the others from behind his hand. ‘Jeno’s got this.’ He smirks, but his eyes widen within the next second. His full attention returning to his best friend's hands roaming up your body. To the way your stomach convulses and you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid looking at any of them.

‘No closing your eyes.’ Renjun speaks up, waving at Jaemin to do something.

Jeno slowly lifts his heavy gaze to his friend, practically threatening him with his blown out lust-ridden gaze to dare to try and touch you. This is his time, and the only one that should ever be lucky enough to lay his hands on you is him. The other seems to understand, silently nodding and shrugging Renjun’s command away.

‘You heard them.’ Jeno cups your chin, jerking your head to look at him. Lowering himself deep between your thighs, he grinds down as he lands. The heavy weight of the warm bulge inside of his shorts stealing a gasp from your throat, shooting your eyes fully open to land on his. ‘That’s it.’

Striking your core with another roll of his hips, he can hear the deep inhales around him. Everyone watching the tiny jolts your body gives, digging your back against the floor with each movement.

‘This is too much.’ Mark says from further back, having moved away from the circle to cover his ears and look in the opposite direction. ‘I can’t watch.’

‘Can’t believe she hasn’t tapped out..’ Haechan whispers, biting down on his lips when Jeno picks up his pace, slinking a hand between your bodies.

‘Jeno..’ you grit between clenched teeth, unable to move yourself out from under his weight.

‘Loser?’ He taunts, shifting his lower half down more for his hardened bulge to press against your clothed slit. The tips of his perverse fingers seeking their destination as he taps at your bundle of nerves and pulls your spine to bow up. ‘Give up.’ He mouths, thrusting his stiff hard-on forward roughly. Successfully manipulating the fabric of your swimsuit to close in, sink between your folds.

Panic runs all over your face as you shake your head and lower your gaze to where your hips meld into each other. Biting down on the backs of your teeth to quell down the moans beating at the inside of your throat. Jeno would shove his shorts and boxers off in one go given any other circumstance. Desperate to let his cock breathe the more he builds up his thrusts and slams his hips down.

‘Fuck this is..’ Jisung wipes the sweat collecting at his neck.

‘Hot.’ Jaemin finishes, cheeks flushed pink with big glossy eyes scanning you from your pleasured face to your curved up spine.

Jeno would agree with them, if only he wasn’t so painfully horny. Clutching onto one of your thighs, he throws it over his hip for better leverage to nestle his cock right between your cunt. The material of his swim trunks all sticky and wet from the pre-cum that won’t stop dripping out of his cock. He grunts, using his free hand to grab onto your neck before his next thrust can jerk you too far up the floor. A moan gets caught up in his throat, panicking that it may slip free, he lowers closer to your face. Lips hovering dangerously near by, only a few inches away; each fan of breath emitting from his lips more threatening than the last.

Flailing out your arms in a panic, you stare up at him wide tear-filled eyes, reaching for his wrist. ‘N-no!’

‘Shit.’ He bites down, clasping your throat tighter. ‘Tapping out?’

With your eyes squeezed shut you weakly throw out your free hand at his chest. ‘No m-more!’

‘Fuck.’ Renjun groans, rubbing over his face.

‘J-Jeno wins.’ Jisung says brokenly, stretching his shirt down to his folded in knees to hide the embarrassingly obvious bulge that's formed in his shorts.

Bending down, he hits you with one more firm thrust, lips pressed to your ear. The corners of his mouth twitch as he presses a kiss along your earlobe and nips at your jaw. ‘You lose.’

He watched your face crumble, squeezing your eyes shut as a whimper fled from your lips. Desperate for a taste he plastered his sweaty palm over your mouth. The way your eyes shot open and burned holes into him has never left his mind. Much like the way your thighs clenched around his hips, fear and arousal hitting you all at once.

‘I know you want a kiss.’ Pressing his lips to your forehead, he thrusted against your core pointedly one more time. Rolling off to the side with a proud grin as he sat up victoriously.

Ever since that night, he hasn’t been able to keep his hands off of you whenever you meet up for summer vacation again. Well, that’s not exactly true, since he can’t actually touch you in front of all of his friends. What would Mark think if he saw the way you drop to your knees for him so easily, how you spit on his cock and gobble him down better than any slut in grade A quality porn?

What would any of them think? And why does he still give a damn. If anything, his friends would be raging with jealousy if they could only hear the way you moan and cry on his cock..

“Jaemin!”

There you are- jumping up from the couch only to run right past him and leap into his best friend's open arms; wrapped up in a tight embrace straight out of some cheesy romcom. Even snaking your legs around his hips, straight up looking like a pair of long-distance lovers.

Jeno would be offended if not for the act you two have successfully kept up the last few summers now. Because why would you greet him first? You hate him.

He hates you.

At least that’s what everyone around the two of you believes.

“Ah, I’ve missed you so much.” His friend sighs, nose pressed against your hair with his eyes falling shut as he deeply inhales. It’s not unusual to see you this close with any of them, but his fingers still itch and jerk by his hips when you take a step back to cup Jaemin’s cheeks and squeeze them until his smooth lips pop forward and he brings out his signature big dolly eyes. Blinking those long eyelashes at you that he knows melts hundreds of girls' hearts.

“You’ve been crying.”

He nods and accentuates his plump pout, bitten over pink lips jutting forward much too close to yours. “It’s okay Jaemin, I’m here now. I’ve got you baby.”

Another hug, another sight that makes Jeno’s eyes shake as you rub up and down Jaemin’s spine, cooing and waving behind his back at Haechan and Renjun who enter next.

Jeno won’t so much as get a nod or ‘sup?’ And he knows it. Clenching his teeth as he looks away and rolls his eyes. It’s not a big deal, nothing to overreact about, not like he’s your boyfriend or anything..

“Boooo!! Break up the love fest!” Haechan shouts, dropping his bag to hold out a thumbs down and obnoxiously blow his tongue out. “Gross.”

“Heyy, my poor Jaemin’s heart is broken!” You scoff, smacking his hand down. “He needs me, unlike you emotionless brutes, I know how to comfort him.”

Oh? You know about Jaemin’s break-up? The one that just happened 2 days ago? That seems to make Jeno’s ears perk up, watching from the corner of his eye as you motion for his best friend to follow you down the hall. “Come on, let’s get you all settled in. I brought you something.”

That’s weird.

Surely Jaemin will tell him about it later, you two have always been closer than you are even with Mark. It’s probably nothing, friends catching up.. that’s all.

Jeno will sneak to your room later, after everyone falls asleep and then you can properly reunite. He can’t wait really, would have made his way to your room once everyone settled into their rooms if you weren’t so occupied with Jaemin..

“Man, she wastes no time.” Renjun laughs, interrupting his thoughts. “Dude’s dick probably still smells like Jini, but here she is ready to claim.”

“Jaemin said they’ve been talking a lot though, must really want him since she never gave up.” Mark mentions, reminding everyone of their usual assigned bedrooms.

“Who’s been talking?” Jeno asks abruptly, shifting to stand awkwardly when everyone’s attention lands on him. “What are you guys on about?”

“This is like the first summer Jaemin’s ever been single.” Jisung shrugs, pointing down the hallway. “I do not want to sleep in the rooms next to either one of them.”

“Jaemin and Jini break up all of the time.” Jeno says flatly, patience wearing thin. “They’ll get back together before we even head home.”

“Not if she has anything to do with it.” Haechan snorts, smiling lazily to one side. Nodding in the direction you’ve disappeared off to with Jaemin.. “I know you hate her, but we all know she’s been dying to fuck Jaemin.”

What?

Renjun rolls his eyes. “Should have been me.”

“Dude.”

“Sorry Mark, but it’s true!” Renjun’s tongue clicks, glaring down the hallway. “I’ve been flirting with her since we were kids!”

“Haven’t we all?” Haechan adds, turning toward Jeno. “I mean, the rest of us. Not you.” He corrects mostly to calm the anger radiating off of his friend.

“Can’t believe we’ve been here for longer than 10 minutes without the two of you exploding at each other yet.” Mark forces a smile, scratching his neck nervously. “Hope uhh.. we can skip that for the next couple of weeks.”

Jeno’s lips tighten together, sealing them shut to stop himself from screaming out something outlandish that he won’t be able to explain. There’s no fucking way you’re seriously trying to hook up with Jaemin? His best fucking friend? You’d never.

But you would, because you love to piss him off, whether it’s intentional or not.

‘I want to see you. Right now.’ Quickly turning around, he shoots you a text. Squinting when his ears pick up on the sound of buzzing clattering on the kitchen counter. Of course you left your phone behind, great.

Text Message From ‘the biggest asshole I know’ reads across the screen. Real mature. At least now he has an excuse to bother you.

“Uh, I’ll be in my usual room.” He nods toward Mark, hauling his bag up the stairs. “Need a shower and a quick nap.”

“Later bro.”

Dropping off his bag in the room across from yours, he tries to unlock your phone. Unable to access more than your lock screen when asked for the passcode, he grunts and walks over to your bedroom for the next couple of weeks. It already smells like you in here, all of your lotions and body sprays set up on one of the dressers, empty luggage on the floor. You must have gotten in early today.. didn’t even bother to text him and let him know.

You probably let Jaemin know, he thinks, eyes rolling off to one side annoyed.

“What are you doing here?”

Jeno’s head snaps to find you at the door, pulling your phone from his pocket. “Forget something?”

“Oh.. thanks.”

“That’s all you have to say to me? What happened to hello? How have you been?”

“When have I ever cared about your well-being?”

“Right.”

He hasn’t even had time to get a good look at you yet. Slowly dragging his eyes down your figure to the sandals you have on, your cutely painted toes. The same toes he’s stuffed inside of his mouth while 9 inches deep inside of you. “If I was Jaemin, you’d care.”

“Jaemin’s my friend.” You say snarkily, letting the door stay open behind you. “Is that a problem?”

“Seems like a lot more than a ‘friend’ to me.”

The questioning look in your eye screams something he can’t decipher, maybe something he doesn’t want to begin to figure out. “You shouldn’t use my best friend just to make me jealous.”

“God, you seriously think that my world revolves around you.” Rolling your eyes, you point behind yourself toward the door. “Get the hell out of my room.”

“Are you gonna make me?” Jeno’s head feels fuzzy already as his palm slams against your door to close it shut. He can’t deny he missed this, the way you stare at him with disgust written all over your pretty features, a little fear hidden in your gaze. Your tight-lipped frown, puffing your chest out to come off more intimidating than you could ever pull off. It makes his blood buzz, ears light up pink filled with fire, intoxicated by the hate that only you are capable of giving him.

“I said get out of my roo—!” A large palm around your throat cuts off your screaming before you can finish. Stealing your next breath with the heavy weight of his hand encased around your neck.

“Wanna repeat that for me?” He mocks, leaning in closer to hiss near your ear before your eyes roll up to find his. That lost empty headed look he’s become addicted to locks in on him, the same exact way it did in the coat closet downstairs near the entrance only a few years ago.

7 minutes in heaven never stood a chance between the bickering and insults you lashed out at each other alone in the middle of hung up jackets and stuffed away pillows. Somehow you two always ended up in these situations, whether it be your friends looking for a laugh or destiny sending you down the same path.

‘Let’s get this over with.’ You rolled your eyes like such a brat. He hated it, hated how easy one little stupid movement could make his skin crawl. No reason you should look that good showing off the whites of your eyes, acting like a little bitch.

‘I’m not fucking kissing you.’

‘You think I want this?! I’m so sick of always getting stuck with you! You’re probably the worst kisser—‘

He had cut you off back then too, the same exact way. Enraged by the lies you continued to hurl at him with intent to hurt. ‘You never shut the fuck up.’

The moan that slipped out of your lips caught the both of you off guard. Tightening his chokehold on your throat to earn another more desperate whiny sound. ‘You like that?’

You still like that, love it in fact. Pursing your lips together to shoot a wad of spit at his face, you gain a bit of momentum while he curses and shakes off the saliva dripping down his cheek. Using his moment of distraction to claw at his shoulders and slam your hips down onto the leg he trapped you against the door with.

“You fucking bitch.”

He knows you hate it when he calls you that, evident by the added pressure you dig into his shoulders with. Strong enough to tear tiny holes through the material of his worn down t-shirt. He hisses and shoves the back of your head against the door. “I’ve been great by the way, in case you’re curious. Thanks for the warm welcome.”

“Did you expect the red carpet rolled out sunshine?”

“It’s not everyday a girl moans out that I’m the best fuck of her life.” He teases meanly, raising an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten already?”

Averting your gaze, you curse under your breath. Blinking away the heat that’s rushed up to your cheeks and burned up to the rims of your eyes. “That’s not—“

“Not what?” He cuts you off, digging his fingers into your hips to roll your lower half up and down his thigh. “Not true?”

It was a moment of weakness, Jeno knows. Knew last summer when you whimpered and trembled on his cock inside of the small pool house he followed you into. Lost in the euphoria of your orgasm or not, nothing you cried out had been a lie and you both know it. Even if you refused to meet his gaze after and changed the subject when he brought it up again later.

“Fucking hate you.” You whisper, showing lack of resistance as he speeds up how fast you rock up and down his thigh.

“I’m the worst.” He cooes, licking his lip. Pressing in to nudge his nose against yours. “Say it, tell me I’m the worst.”

“Sick is what you are,” you spit out breathily. The taut skin between your eyebrows folding together. “So.. fucking annoying.” You pant, the loose summer dress you threw on riding up to your stomach. Underwear scratching against your clit maliciously. “St-stop.”

“Come on baby, tell me.” He huffs, thigh bouncing against your circling hips. “Who fucks you as good as me?”

No one. No one does.

Shaking your head, you look away, face scrunching up as your orgasm begins to unfold. “Bullshit.”

“Making a mess all over my thigh after only a few minutes?” He questions huskily, licking up your sweat damp cheek. The mocking tone unravels a frantic panic through your gut, flushed by the embarrassment. “And you expect me to believe anything you’re saying right now?”

“Ugh! Get off of me.” You grunt, pushing your weight against his chest. Beating your rolled up fists down on his pecs. “Asshole.”

“What’s your problem?”

“You. Always you.” You spit, moving around him to open one of the nightstands drawers. Thighs gripped together to stop yourself from making a mess down your thighs. “Only came in here to grab Jaemin’s gift.”

“Oh?” Jeno’s eyebrows raise all the way up high, tongue dragging across the upper row of his teeth. “Wasn’t aware of the Birthday party?”

“I don’t need celebratory excuses to buy my friends gifts.” You sneer, intentionally walking into him on your way to the door. “You wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“What’d you get him?” He asks curiously, attempting to grab the bag from your hands.

“None of your fucking business.” Taking a big leap toward the door, you yank it open. “And get out of my room.”

“Why? I can just wait in here for you.”

“I’m busy catching up with Jaemin, won’t be back soon. Don’t want you stinking up the place.” Blowing him a kiss, you finish with a raised middle finger. “Fuck outta here.”

Jeno watches you head down the hallway toward the room Jaemin typically shares with Jisung, confusion streaked across his face.

“This doesn’t make any sense..” he whispers, leaning against your door. You seriously just ditched him like that?!? When you’ve practically damn near mounted him and tackled him down for a quickie each time you reunited the past few summers?!

Shaking off his insecure thoughts, he trudges to his bedroom to finish off what you should be on your knees for. It’d be too weird to storm into Jaemin’s bedroom pitching a full tent to yell at you right now.. no way to explain that..

Whatever you’re up to, he doesn’t like it. Ruining his orgasm in the shower as he lightly bangs his head against the wet tile. Frustrated by all of the scenarios he keeps imagining you and Jaemin falling into, alone, in his room, on his bed, probably sucking face with his best friend.

“She wouldn’t.” He nods to himself, convinced that you may be dumb- but you can’t be that dumb.

Scrubbing at his wet hair with a towel, he catches the annoyed look on his face in the wet fogged up bathroom mirror. “She would.”

♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡

“Holy hell.” Haechan whistles as you step outside, gaining Jeno’s attention to follow his line of gaze.

What the fuck.

“Mama Mia.” Renjun fist bumps Haechan, both nodding proudly. “No more granny one piece swimsuits.”

“Always knew she had a nice ass on her.”

Jeno’s upper lip curls upwards, glaring at you setting down a towel on one of the pool chairs. Making a real show of it with all the unnecessary bending over and hair flips you do.

“If it walks like a whore and talks like a whore.” He mutters, scoffing. “Can only be a fucking whore.”

“Ehh, you’re just mad she’ll never let you hit.” Renjun jeers, pinching Jeno’s cheek. “Grow up!”

Slapping his hand away, he refocuses on setting off laser beams from his eyes into your backside. Your extremely exposed backside that he should have left marked up yesterday with his handprints and teeth marks. That would shut his friends up who have no chance with you, because you belong to him.

At least sometimes.

The huge smile that graces your pretty face as Jaemin approaches you tells him otherwise. Sucking in the insides of his cheeks to bite down on as he watches the two of you embrace and his best friend's hands float much too close to the perk of your ass.

“Luckiest motherfucker in the world I swear.” Haechan curses, sucking air between his teeth when Jaemin takes the chance and gently pats your hip. “I give it one more day before they’re hooking up.”

“You’re probably right.” Renjun hums and agrees. “The sooner the better so we can swoop in next.”

“Wanna tag team?”

“Let’s do it.”

“She doesn’t want any of you.” Jeno shuts them up, frustrated by their banter interrupting his thoughts. Rolling his eyes petulantly and scoffing loudly to announce how annoyed he is.

Who the fuck does Jaemin think he is?! Suddenly single and immediately ready to deep dive between the first pair of legs ready to spread for him?! And you! Who the hell do you think you are! Shamelessly flirting with his friend?!

“This guy.” Haechan rolls his eyes, straightening up and puffing his chest out as you approach them.

“What’s on the menu today boys?” You ask cheerfully, not sparing Jeno a look.

“How about a mimosa for the pretty lady?”

“Sounds great!” You say cheerfully, bouncing up and down much too eagerly for Jeno’s liking.

“What are you wearing?” He hisses as quietly as possible, not wanting to draw attention from Haechan and Renjun as they scour through the pool bar for champagne. “What the hell is this?”

“Huh?” You ask dumbly, making the same old disgusted face you always pull when he tries to speak to you. “What did you say to me?”

Jeno watches his friends squat down in search of orange juice, grabbing onto your elbow to draw you closer to him. “I said, what the hell are you wearing?!”

“Uhm, a bathing suit?” Attempting to shrug him off, you push at his bare chest. “Let go of me!”

“Quiet down..” his lip curls in, tugging you closer. “Where’d you buy this? A fucking Hustler store?”

“I’ll have you know this is Beach Bunny! And I paid a lot for it!”

“Yeah, with daddy’s money.”

“You shouldn’t talk, West LA trash.”

Ah, there it is. The same shit your spoiled little princess ass always has to say to him. Nothing new, the same fucking boring drag. “That’s all you got? Come on, you can do better than that.”

“Let go of me, Jeno.” You say sternly, with a serious tone. Failing to free yourself from his grip.

“Cover up slut.” He spits, nostrils flaring. “Prancing around showing everything off like that for free? Who fucking raised you?”

“What’s your fucking problem?!”

“Hey uhh,” Haechan clears his throat, taking light steps toward you with Renjun in tow. “Drink’s ready.”

The two peer back and forth between you and Jeno, worry etched across their faces. Repeatedly stealing looks at his hand cradled around your elbow.

“Thanks.”

Before you can reach the flute of champagne and orange juice, Jeno’s arm shoots out faster than he can think. Stealing the glass from Haechan’s hand to pour down your chest and stomach. A round of shocked gasps coming from his friends and the high-pitched scream you let out snaps him fully alert. Taking a step back with wide eyes as you shake off the sticky liquid and proceed to glare at him with balled up fists.

“What. The. Fuck!”

An apology nearly rolls off of his tongue before Renjun rushes to clean off your stomach, shifty-eyed as he takes extra time to dry off your chest. “My new bathing suit!”

Jeno acted abruptly off anger and worry, mostly worried of what his friends could be wondering about finding the two of you like that. Clenching his fists, he bites back the apology that tries to push through.

“Dude, that was not cool.” Haechan snickers at him, snatching the glass back with a look full of disappointment.

“Yeah Jeno, grow the fuck up man.”

Ugh! Great. Now he’s made a fool of himself all thanks to you once again. Shaking his head, he catches your piercing gaze before squatting down to hide behind the bar. You knew good and well what you were doing stepping outside in some skimpy little two piece, dental floss riding up your ass. It’s not his fault that you get off on making him angry or whatever the hell it is that motivates you to piss him off.

“Don’t worry, you still look sexy as fuck.” He hears Renjun mumble. Grinding his teeth together as he continues to pretend to look for something to drink.

“Yeah, here, take this one to Jaemin.” Haechan adds, handing you two champagne flutes. “Go get your boy.”

“You guysss,” you giggle playfully, shooting them both a wink before heading off.

“That was really low, even for you man.” Haechan leans over the bar just as Jeno stands up, distracting himself by reading the label on the bottle in his hold.

“Get over it.” He mutters, ignoring the judging looks his friends share.

“He’s too old to be going through a hormonal imbalance.” Renjun whispers, nudging Haechan’s side to look over in the direction you headed off to. “Kind of funny how Jaemin’s the prey instead of the predator.”

“He doesn’t stand a chance.” Haechan snorts, taking a sip of his beer. “Wish I was dead meat instead, would gladly lay my body out like a corpse to be picked over.”

“What’s that about?” Jeno glares toward the corner of the pool you’ve sidled up to with Jaemin much too close by your side. Floating there, occasionally leaning against the stairs. Smiling and laughing all too much for his liking. The champagne flutes sitting emptied along the edge of the pool along with other bottles his best friends already finished off.

“They’re probably gonna fuck.” Haechan shrugs, speaking casually. “We all saw that coming.”

What?!

Jeno’s mouth pops open, quickly picking up his jaw, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand to properly look at his friend. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

“Literally that.” Renjun adds, coating the glass in his hand with sugar along the rim before pouring in various shots of alcohol. “Good for her, she’s been trying to get inside of Jaemin’s pants for years. Wish it was me, but whatever.”

You have?! Since when!

Jeno quickly stands up straight, fists clenched at his sides. “Sh-she said that? She told you that?”

“Pftt, it’s obvious. She hardly even keeps in contact with any of us all year except Jaemin.”

WHAT?!

“Yeah, she’s helped him a lot through this break-up with Jini.” Renjun shrugs, mixing his drink. “But from what Jaemin showed me, they pretty much just flirt all of the time.”

“What?? Jaemin’s never mentioned her to me!”

“Probably because you hate her dude.” Haechan tips his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to get a look at him. Cocking an eyebrow up with intrigue. “Anytime we so much as say her name you get all pissy and blow a gasket.”

“You’re worse than a girl sometimes.” Renjun snorts, joining Haechan’s side on one of the pool chairs under a canopy.

Okay. Valid. Maybe Jaemin would avoid mentioning you if that's the case. He works hard to keep this act up around his friends. Not that it is an act, he really does hate you..

But why would you fail to say anything?! You’ve never once told him you’re into Jaemin! Not that you would.. whore.

“Dude, you okay? Why are you making that face?” Haechan laughs, pointing toward the frustrated wrinkles formed between Jeno’s eyebrows. “Look like you’re about to shit yourself.”

“Shut up.” Jeno waves him and Renjun off, stomping toward the house while sneaking a look back at you and Jaemin. There’s no fucking way you’re seriously trying to hook up with his best friend, right in front of his face! Even through the water he can see your hands groping over his thighs, lips only an inch away from each other.

Who the hell do you think you are! Probably want him to suffer and watch you flirt with some other guy right in front of him. Not just any other guy but his best god damn friend. The one person he holds above all and trusts with his life.

Haechan and Renjun think he’s too old to be acting like this?! If only they even knew what the hell you’re up to at your grown ass age.

Stomping inside of the house, he paces around the kitchen rubbing at his face. To think he had plans on taking the next step with you this summer. Of admitting something he’s not even sure he wants to be honest about anymore.

“Did the big pissy baby get overheated out there?”

Your voice shatters his stupor, twisting around to find you leaned over the kitchen island with a pleased shit-eating grin on your face. “What are you doing?” He asks flatly, charging to lean over the other side of the counter and meet you half-way. “Or, what do you think you’re doing, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re going on about.” You shrug, walking around him to get to the fridge. “Came in here to get Jaemin some ice, everything’s melted down in the cooler.”

“Bullshit.” Pressing against your back, he flattens you against the cool freezer door before you can get it open. “I’m not into this game you’re playing, so stop it.”

“Like I said,” you push back against him, groaning as he uses extra strength to keep you pressed. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“You don’t?” Curling a digit under the strap of your bottoms, he tugs until the material painfully stretches across your rim. Peering down and licking his lips at the way your hips jut back toward him. “This pretty flimsy poor excuse of a swimsuit wasn’t to impress me, was it?”

“Stop pulling at it!” Grabbing onto his wrist, you try to tug him off. Hissing at the friction caused against your core. “I’m serious Jeno! It’s expensive!”

“You know what else is?” Letting go of the strap to crack against your hip, he wraps around your waist and turns you fast. Manhandling you into a bent position over the kitchen counter. “What you owe me for that stupid little act out there.”

“Don’t! Jaemin’s waiting for me!” You wriggle, grabbing at the counter ledge to escape. Firm heavy hands settle against the end of your spine. Locking your lower half in place with his hips pressed securely against your backside.

“Being way too loud, you’re trying to get caught at this point.” Peering outside of the nearest window, his friends seem oblivious to anything taking place outside of drinking and splashing around. “What if Jaemin sees you like this? Acting like the filthy whore you are. Does he know that side of you yet?”

“Stop!” You writhe against him, squeezing your eyes shut as his nails trace down your back to the swell of your ass.

“Answer me.” The warmth of his palms cup under your butt, shoving up until the fleshy skin folds over on your lower back. “Does he know?”

“No..” you mewl, grip on the counter loosening. Struggling to stay balanced on your tiptoes with shaky knees.

“Why not?” Jeno tuts, rolling his hips in a circle against your lifted bottom. “Only for me?”

“…mhm..” you admit, full of shame, dropping your cheek to lay flat against the cool marble of the counter. “Only for you.”

“If I leave you marked up right now..” he mutters, sucking in air between his teeth. Pulling off of you an inch to admire how much smaller his hands look trying to knead and squeeze all of your plump backside. “How will you explain what happened to all of your admirers?”

“Please Jeno, come on..”

“What are you begging for?” He says mockingly, digging his blunt nails deep enough to hurt but not leave behind more than faded indentations. “For me to fuck you right here?” Bending over on top of you back, he grabs onto your jaw to make sure your eyes find the window. “Want them all to see, don’t you?”

“N-no..”

“Why? Afraid they’ll find out what a slut you really are? After playing this fake innocent act all these years?”

“Jeno—seriously, this isn’t funny!”

“We both know,” dragging the tip of his nose down your cheek, he bites down on your jawline. Pushing off to pull your bikini bottoms to one side and expose your core. “You love being watched.”

It’s reminiscent of that first time he broke you down in front of all of your friends. Laying here, letting him have his way with you again, excited by the idea of getting caught. “Left me hanging yesterday..”

Squatting down to his knees, he cups your ass, slowly pulling you apart to get an up close look between your thighs. Wet warmth painted between your slit eagerly greets him, sucking in a long-winded breath. “Don’t tell me you’re this wet because of someone else?”

A pathetic sound comes out muffled with half of your mouth pressed to the counter. Shivering as he purses his lips and blows out soft breaths of air along your middle.

“I asked you something.” Landing a hard smack down on your ass, he grips your hips to stay in place when they jump back.

“Only you.” You mumble quietly.

“Say that shit again, I want them to hear you.” Another rough hit jolts your backside. Bouncing against the counter, digging into your pelvis from the pressure you slam back down with.

“Jeno..”

The backyard door creaks open, snapping both of your necks straight and jumping up to stand. Fixing your bottoms into place as Jeno curses and stands awkwardly by your side, left with no time to dig inside of his swim trunks and adjust himself before he spots the intruder.

Jisung’s dark hair bounces through the corridor to the kitchen not a second later, surprised to see you standing together in the kitchen.

“What’s going on here? You two fighting again?” Jisung rolls his eyes, pausing to take in the disoriented state both of you are in. “That’s weird.”

“What?” Jeno asks shortly, jaw clenching annoyed by the interruption.

“Uhm,” blinking down toward the olders crotch, he quickly shakes his head and continues to walk to the bathroom. “Nothing.”

Waiting for Jisung to disappear from your line of sight, you let out a sigh. Nodding to the huge tent Jeno’s sporting in his trunks. “Might want to go take care of that before going back out there.”

“Aw man, fuck. Little fucker definitely saw that.” Jeno lets out a long-winded breath, banging the back of his head against one of the cabinets. “Come to my room later?”

“Can’t.” You say stiffly, pretending to ignore the throb between your thighs. “Already told Jaemin we could watch a movie together. Anyway, try not to cum inside of your shorts.” Without giving him a chance to respond, you rush back outside to curl up close to his best friend's side under one of the sun umbrellas.

Jeno takes a few steps ready to chase after you, cursing out when his lower half brushes against the counter. “Fuck.”

He’d ignore how hard the veins lining his cock thrum, engorged and full of blood from the thought of finally getting some and wait a few more minutes until he goes soft, but you just look too damn good in that stupid flimsy bikini. Better than you should flaunting yourself for anyone other than him. This is the second time he’s had to jerk off thanks to you. How stupid of you to think this shit you’re pulling will pay off in the end, unless you’re looking to get fucked close to to death. Two can play hard ball, and he knows he can play much harder than what you’re able to handle.

“Whatever.”

♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡

“I’m always here for you Jaemin.”

A smile finally appears, ducking his face as he chuckles softly and reaches for your hand hanging by your hip. “You’ve been too good to me ever since the break-up. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me for anything, I’m your friend. It’s my duty to make sure that smile never leaves your handsome face.”

He pauses for a minute, thumb rubbing the back of your hand as he zones out and nods. “You are my friend. She never really liked that, said I’d call this a boys trip just to come out here to flirt with Mark’s cousin..”

A swell of hope crashes through your chest when his eyes lift to yours and he smiles large enough for the top row of his teeth to fully show. One of your favorite things about Jaemin, his blinding smile that you really would do anything to bring out. “Friends aren’t supposed to flirt, right?”

“I wouldn’t even know how to begin flirting.” You pout, exaggerating your blinks. “How would I flirt? Can you show me?”

A clear tinge of red rises up his neck, dropping his head back to let out a howling laugh, inadvertently squeezing your hand tightly. “The idea of you- of all people, not knowing how to flirt is too funny. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“I don’t see what’s so funny about that.” You smirk, leaning in to sway closer to him for your face to only stand a couple of inches apart. “Can’t you teach me how to flirt? I bet you’re real good at it.”

Jaemin staggers for a moment, smile fading slowly as he takes in your curious gaze. The glint in his gaze darkens, slowly dragging across your lips. “You really want me to show you? Not just bullshitting me?”

“Mhmm.” You nod, biting down a grin.

Clearing his throat, he straightens, releasing your hand to rest his arm above your head against the door frame to your bedroom. “Say, we just wrapped up a first date..” He hums, painting a scenario out for you without breaking eye-contact. “I walk you home, thank you for gracing me with your presence.” He huffs, lip lifting to one side holding back an amused smirk. “And then I stop to look you up and down, just like this.”

Slowly, long thick dark eyelashes take their time to fan down over his pinkened cheeks, tucking his lower lip in beneath his teeth as he passes over your chest. Licking the plumpness filling his red juicy bottom lip. “And I lean in close enough to feel your breath quickening, to watch your chest rise faster. Making it obvious that I can’t stop staring at you, can’t get enough of your beauty. Really make every second feel like minutes as I admire how gorgeous and sexy you are.”

His voice deepens to a low rumble, re-enacting everything he says until your backs pressed flat against the door, breathing shallowly, gone silent with evident awe all over your face.

“I don’t have to say much..” he smirks slightly, the standard traditional cute cocky and charming smirk he always pulls when getting his way. His hands lift to move a loose strand of hair behind your ear, intentionally slowly grazing the shell of your ear. Pleased by the obvious shiver that passes down your body. “I just..”

Taking one more step forward he meets you at eye level, dragging his fingers down your jawline to your chin to pinch, focusing on your lips naturally parting open for him, so inviting.

“Lick my lips,” and he does, dragging his tongue from one side to the other, gaze more sultry and hooded now. “And whisper right here like this..” only a hair’s breadth away, he whispers less than an inch away from your mouth. “And when do I get to see you again?”

Fuck.

Ready to scream, you have to bite down on your tongue when he abruptly pulls away and shrugs, standing up straight. “Works every time.”

“Uhm,” sucking down a dry gulp, you nod rapidly, patting for the doorknob behind you. “I’ll definitely have to try that out sometime.”

Jaemin backs away, stepping backwards and shooting you a wink. “You’ll have to let me know if it works. Now get some rest, we have a long day by the pool tomorrow.”

You’d swear he hasn’t stopped flirting given the way he spins around and watches you from over his shoulder still stuck in place against your door as if you’ve been hot glued there. May as well be, clenching your thighs in a deathgrip out of fear that the sticky heat pooling your underwear could trickle free.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You whine once he’s disappeared to the other side of the house. Letting out a long exhausted sigh, you quickly make to enter your room, reaching for the light switch as the door shuts behind you, coating everything in darkness. That’s strang—

“You can’t be fucking serious.”

A roar full of anger charges at you, rasping deep before colliding with your chest, crashing your back against the opposite side of the door you were just fighting to free yourself from.

“Ah, fuck!” You hiss, reaching to rub the back of your head sure to have a walnut sized bump by morning. “Jeno?? Is that you?!?”

“Who the fuck else would it be Sherlock.” He rasps angrily directly in your face, lodging one of his thick forearms under your chin until you cough from lack of air.

“Wh-what the hell are you doing?!” You manage to squeak out, slapping his elbow. “Get off of me!”

“What the hell am I doing?!” He growls, nose digging against your forehead. “What the hell are you doing!!”

“Huh??”

“My best friend?!” Jeno’s screaming, crackling the louder he gets, jerking his arm against your neck to congest your air flow. “Please be fucking serious. I’ve had enough of this shit! You and whatever this is- it ends now.”

“Wh-what?!” You cough, clutching onto his muscular forearm with both hands, struggling to suck in large inhales of oxygen. “I said get off of me, you fucking dick!”

“God you won’t be satisfied until you fuck literally everyone.” Dropping his arm, he gives you no time to recover, manhandling you around to slam you chest first against the door. He scoots up behind you, slotting his covered lower half against yours. The familiar addictive warmth you’ve hungered for since last summer break throbs against your bottom, having to grind your teeth to control an onslaught of whimpers from giving away your arousal. It’s been hard enough to stop yourself from tapping at his door. Having to distract yourself with another cheesy Disney film to watch with Jaemin until you can’t fight sleep off any longer.

“You’re such a whore, fucking open up your legs for anyone.” Strong hands grip the backs of your thighs, slowly climbing up higher to cup the swell of your ass. “I don’t give a fuck who you fuck. Haechan, Renjun, you can even take Jisung’s virginity for all I fucking care. I’d expect no less from a whore like you.”

Pressing in, he flattens to your back, shoving his arm around your neck from behind, cupping your chin to turn your face to the side. “But you will not,” Jeno breathes heavily against your cheek, licking down to the corner of your mouth. “Fuck him.”

You know by now it’s better to stay silent judging by how riled up he already is after blue-balling him twice now. Rutting against your ass like some starved beast desperate to feed, fuck and kill.

But you both know the real reason you sneak around, fight in front of everyone else, taunt and torment each other. The real reason you glare at him from the corner of your eye and suck on his fingers in private. It’s a game for the two of you, and you’re just about ready to cross the finish line to wrap this up for good. Win or lose, you’re tired of playing.

“Oh yeah? And who’s going to stop me?”

Jeno’s mouth hangs open against your cheek, hot gaze burning down your face. “Why him. Why him out of everyone?”

“I like him.” You admit, reaching back to dig your nails into his sides. “And I think he likes me too.”

“Fuck you.” He emphasizes with a hard thrust rocking your hips roughly against the door. “You’re only doing this to piss me off.”

“This is going to shock you but my world does not revolve around you.” You huff, smacking at his sides. “So full of yourself.”

“Maybe I am.” He grunts, bicep curling around your throat tighter, dragging his lips up to your ear. “And you? Wanna be full of me?”

Wet thirsty eyes roll up to meet his, slowly tucking your juicy bottom lip in to suck on. “Mhm..”

“Don’t play fucking dumb.” He jerks, squeezing his arm around your throat harder. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me.”

“To you? What am I doing to you?” You ask in a cocky tone, jamming your bottom against his groin. “Besides making your dick grow a couple more inches?”

“Best cock you’ve ever taken.” He reminds you. Breaking you down round after round last summer until you were acting brainless, spilling out nonsensical thoughts worshipping him for fucking you so damn well.

Best mouth too, you refuse to add, sleek gaze thinning on him expectantly. “And me? What the fuck am I to you?”

“My whore.” Biting down on your cheek, he tightens the chokehold on your throat even more. Fully stealing your breath and pulling tight until you’re perched onto your tippy toes. “Only mine, got that?”

This is really the foreplay between you, learning early on how much you enjoy being roughed up and dragged around. It’s your thing, what really brings your true self out. And Jeno’s the only one that’s ever picked up on what you really want in bed. How you dream of being fucked, what makes your cunt slick up. Never even having to ask or confirm if what he’s doing to turn you on is enough.

All he has to do is remind you of how ashamed you should feel, how dirty you really are for giving it up to him so willingly. A little smack to your face, asphyxiating your lungs and spitting in your mouth, that’s all it took to have you groveling for more on your knees. Begging him to slap you with his long thick cock, literally drooling at the sight of it with your hands pressed together pleading for him to fuck your throat.

Each time you’ve hooked up repeats in his mind non-stop. No one else he fucks with back home matches up to how good you take it, how submissively you melt down at his voice. He can’t stop coming back for more, tingling at the thought of getting his mouth and hands back on your body. That’s why you always end up here together alone in a safe dark place only built for the two of you.

He’ll never admit how much this means to him, how much you mean to him. How much this turns him on, because part of him believes you have to know by now even if he doesn’t do a proper job of showing it. This, these intimate moments with you, bare naked shedding all your inhibitions away one by one, he wouldn’t trade this in for anything in the world.

“Y-yes,” you croak, snaking your fingers around his forearm to create an inch of space. “Yours.”

“Exactly.” He says proudly, licking across his upper lip. Forever and always his, because no one else will ever compare. Certainly not Jaemin, and no fucking bum that tries to earn your attention after him.

The fuzzy look in your eyes that drives him mad sets off a coil in his stomach. Heat invading his chest as he looks over your swollen bitten lips, hazy gaze hooded by lazed eyelids making you even more seductive and enticing. “Made me wait so long for this, you know that.”

It’s a warning for what’s to come, landing a weighted slap down on your ass before he strips off the shorts you have on. Even through the minimal light entering your room from the window, he sucks in a breath between his teeth and gropes over your hips and thighs, scooping your ass to bounce against his palms. “Think you deserve to get fucked after the way you’ve been acting?”

“Y-yes..” you whisper shamelessly, glancing over your shoulder at him. “I deserve it, don’t I puppy?” A hint of playfulness in your voice lifts the corner of his mouth up, fast to shake off his smirk. Jeno’s jaw falls open, blinking furiously to ward off his shock.

Nothing gets under his skin more than that bullshit cute nickname you use on him. Always at the worst times, sparking up annoyance and butterflies through his chest. “Don’t call me that.”

Dropping down to his knees, he wastes no more time to dig his face between your ass cheeks. Dragging the tip of his nose against your wrinkled rim, he breathes in deep knowing you hate when he does that. Or at least you pretend to by squealing and kicking your feet back at him. Mortified and having to look away when he spreads your ass apart to kiss up and down the crevice of your ass.

Tugging his shirt off, he gets back between your legs. Dragging his pouted lips between your slit, sucking small amounts of your arousal onto his tongue. He groans against your core, vibrating up to where you look over your shoulder at him waiting patiently for what he knows you want.

What you want and won’t get.

Pressing firm kisses to your clit and rim, he bites along the perk of your ass. Gently nipping at the fleshy skin, slapping your hips for your butt to ripple against his face. “Shaved your pussy all cute like that for Jaemin?”

A muffled sound of surprise gets lost in your palm, covering your mouth to hide your shock. “No..”

“Sure you didn't, baby.” Slowly standing back up he litters kisses up your back. Gathering your hair to one side to suck on your ear until you squirm and push against him. Kissing down your neck and biting at your shoulder blade before pulling off, he crosses your bedroom to sit on the edge of your bed. “Get your sexy ass over here and sit that pretty pussy on my cock.”

Outstretching his legs, he nods his chin for you to move quick. Walking on trembling legs to quickly obey him, you move to stand in front of him and grab onto his shoulders.

“Jeno..”

Bleary blown out dark irises peer up at you beneath a thick layer of eyelashes. Losing himself in the heat of the room and your aroused scents beginning to infiltrate the space. Tightening his lips, he adjusts to your hands snaking up his throat, jaw twitching as you dig your thumbs into his chin. “Are you still my puppy?”

Jeno wishes you’d let it go. One night a few summers back when you drank far beyond your limits and he found you in the backyard before you were able to cannonball into the pool. Dragging you back inside, he held your hair back as you emptied your guts and cried about ruining the night. It was a moment of weakness on his part, much like yours. Assuming you’d forget about everything that took place in that bathroom he soothingly rubbed down your spine and told you to stop whining.

‘You haven’t ruined anything.’ No, just his heart and ego that have never fully healed since you entered his life. Not that you’re allowed to know any of that, God forbid he be honest even if you looked so cute as he cleaned off your face.

‘You know,’ you mumbled, relaxed against the wall as he dabbed your cheeks free of tears and remnants of alcohol. ‘You’re such a puppy.’

Jeno squinted at you, snickering under his breath. ‘Whatever that means.’ Ignoring the ache in his chest, he dampened a cloth and wiped down your neck.

‘Means you’re so cute.’ You whined, weakly smacking his arm. ‘My cute puppy, making those sweet eyes at me.’

My cute puppy. His hand hing mid-air, wide eyes full of surprise. You’re never this nice to him, or this drunk..

‘How much did you drink?’ He scoffed, swallowing the tightness away from his throat. ‘Too much.’ He whispers.

‘Mmh.. you’re right. Way too much.’

And yet, the smile creeping onto your face right now makes his stomach ache. Grinding his teeth together as he steadily grabs you by the waist and you lowers onto his thighs to seek the fat tip of his cock, hissing as it snags along your wet pulsating entrance.

“Hurry the fuck up and quit pissing me off.” He growls, slapping your ass hard enough to echo through the room.

Taking a deep breath, you have to reach down to guide him in. Stomach sucking in as the familiar stretch begins to split you open. It’s been so long, too long since you’ve taken not only Jeno’s cock, but a cock this fucking thick in girth. Squeezing your eyes shut as a cry pushes out from your lips and the thick head of his size inches in, lighting a fire under your cheeks as creamy wet sounds gush their way up to your ears.

“I don’t have all fucking day.” He snaps, slapping your buttcheeks with both hands even harder than before. Forcing your posture to slump forward, other hand shaking on his shoulder as another inch pushes in. Already wasted enough of his time with whatever that was, probably just trying to manipulate him to get your way again.

“S’too big—“ you whine frustratedly, wrapping both of your arms around his shoulders.

“Never too big for you,” Jeno exhales deeply. “Sluts like you only know how to get fucked.”

Taking it upon himself, he wraps around your waist good and tight, bucking his hips up and pushing you down at the same time to fully take in each and every inch. Burying himself deep inside of you to the brim, coercing your wet arousal to drip down his length and pour down heavily onto his sack. He curses between the strangled scream you wail out, wedging each inch in as deep as possible. Dragging his wide length against your tight hot walls with smooth rolls of his hips grinding upward. “Fuck that’s it.”

“S’too much.” You repeat stupidly, already fucking babbling. Drooling onto your chin and rolling your eyes shut above him. Nails drag down his shoulders to his biceps, circling his arms for something to keep you grounded to earth, fearful you’ll float away as pleasure builds up higher and higher.

Winding his arms around your waist tightly, he sucks on your neck. Licking at the sweat pooling its way down to your collarbone. Grunting against your skin hot and heavy as you start to relax around him after minutes of grinding his cock between your thighs. “Take it.” He whispers along your throat, biting down hard enough to leave marks. Slamming his hips up harshly, colliding your ass down on his upper thighs and filling the room with the sound of your damp wet skin clapping against his.

Lack of response drives him to pummel inside of you even faster. Bracing his hands under your thighs to lift you up and down his size easier, he begins to hoist your limpened weight up and down. The stretch around his cock snapping with each pull out to the tip, dragging deliciously through your clenching heat. Wet pussy slickening up and drenching his cock making each glide inside of you easier than the last, clinging sticky arousal down to his balls. The skin between his own thighs sloppy with it, one of his favorite parts about fucking you, always amazed by how wet you get for him.

“Always so wet for me.” He pants already out of his mind, exerting more energy to mold your cunt to the shape of his cock. Providing noisy loud squelches with each penetrating hit of his length. It’s always so good with you, the best he’s ever had, as if he’d ever dare to admit out loud. Lost so deep in the heat of your eager tight pussy, he has to bite down on his lip hard enough to draw blood to not shout out something he could end up regretting later.

“Fuck you baby, so good for me aren’t you.” He opts to say instead, gaining speed as he moves back to your waist and pulls you down onto his cock faster. His length grazing against each nerve that shoots straight through your limbs, the clap of your ass hitting his thighs deafeningly loud throughout the room.

“Uh-huh,” you croon, panting wildly against his shoulder. “Deep, so deep.”

“Yeah,” Jeno grinds hot against your most shallow area, the tip of his size kissing your womb. “Greedy pussy wants me even deeper?”

“Y-yes,” it’s impossible to ask for more, drooling down to your chest. Jolting on his cock like a rag doll. The aggressive pace he’s fallen into bouncing your breasts against his chest, creating more heat and sweat all over your bodies. “Please!”

So perfect how much you cry and moan for him, always perfect and good for him. Rasping his own groans out as he possessively grasps your hips and squeezes onto your ass. Hitting you with another succession of slaps before slamming you down onto his complete length. “Fuckfuck!”

“Pleasepleaseplease!” The combination of your pleasured moans sets something off inside of him. Unleashing his need to feel every part of himself buried inside of you. Reaching to secure your thighs around his waist, he shoves off the bed. Knees bent as he uses all of his strength to stand up and haul your body up in the air with him. The arms around his neck scurrying to wrap around him tighter out of fear of being dropped.

Alarmed, frightened eyes shoot open to look at him, head shaking before his arms flex out using each and every muscle to impale you down onto his cock once again. Ripping an orgasm right out of you before you can even fully process that he’s standing up carrying all of your body as if you weigh nothing. Rushing a powerful orgasm out of you that spills down to his shins, splattering on the ground around his feet. “Fuck—yes!”

Letting out a deep guttural howling moan, he chases after release. Unbothered by the despaired cries you continuously let out as he fucks your sensitive pussy wide open. Bicep muscles flex large around your thighs and torso, dripping with a sheen of sweat the more he uses his lower half to push up and bury his length deep inside of you with each barreling thrust. Pliant like a good little doll as you get thrown up and down on him the exact way he likes. Aroused all the more by how your cunt still squeezes around him despite the sad broken little pained ‘ow’s’ you whimper between moans. Clumsily still trying to keep your hold on his shoulders through each sloppy wet stroke.

“Fuck!” All Jeno can do is let out strings of curses. The blunt tip of his cock hitting deep enough to prod the skin under your navel out in this position. Deep, hard, so tenderless, evoking rough brutality with each violent pounding collision of his thighs crashing against your ass.

“Puppy,” you squeak, unable to form a coherent sentence or thought anymore. Toes curled up around his lower back as your thighs weakly flex to keep a tight grip around his waist. “H-hurts!”

The complaint only fuels him to fuck you faster, blinking away the sweat rolling into his eyes, his hold on you tightens. Crashing your weight down on his length to take take and take. All your good for, to take his cock like the fucking whore you are. Merciless with each slap of his full balls landing against your ass. “Gonna fuck you full of cum,” he says with a tight-locked jaw. Spinning on his foot to fall onto the bed with you.

Without missing a beat he reaches for the backs of your knees. Changing the position to keep his cock buried all the way inside of you. Pushing your legs toward your chest and slapping the sides of your thighs in silent demand to hold them in place. “Exactly like that, good little slut.” He says gruffly, hips returning to full on hammer inside of you without anything to stop him. Not the way you cry and scream, letting your legs flop out weakly from your hold when he brings down his thumb to rub at your clit meanly. Scorching another orgasm to flood throughout your body.

“Jeno! P-please! Enough!”

The hot wrap of your pussy around his thick girth is too good to stop. He’d fuck you everyday, keep you sat on his cock even when he’s busy. Trained like his good slut to be ready anytime, anywhere, at any given moment. Drooling down your neck exactly like this, eyes fluttering open and shut as if you can’t believe this is really happening. Chest bouncing up and down so hard, hitting the underside of your chin. The arch in your spine is painful at this point. Struggling to not allow another orgasm to roll through your body as you lay there in defeat and let him have his way with you.

Curling a hand around your throat, he grabs onto one of your floppy legs, throwing your calve onto his shoulder. Drawing out to the tip of his length, he sucks in a wet saliva-coated breath at the sight of your beat up pussy. Ripe and dripping for the taking, only for him. He feeds the entirety of his cock back inside your velvety soft wet walls. Dropping your jaw open to let out a silent cry as he full on rails your cunt with abandon.

“Made to take my cock,” he groans huskily, throat burning from this workout of fucking you. Pushing his stamina to its limits. But he can’t stop, won’t stop his hips from slipping his cock in and out. Clutching onto your thigh to control your writhing hips that jump with every sharp thrust that shapes your insides to take only his cock. “Only mine.”

Still gaining momentum, he fucks into you with inhumane speed when you shout that you’re gonna cum again. Garbled by the sobs you won’t stop letting out, sounding more like chanted prayers worshipping the way he fucks you. Hips slap down against your thighs vigorously, fat cock making sure to permanently destroy your pussy, playing out the loudest wettest sounds with each penetrating hit.

“Oh God!” You helplessly cry out loud, back bowing upward. Shooting pain from your lower back up your spine as another orgasm rains down on you. This one nearly shoving his size out from the force of your release. Stuttering his movements enough for wetness to squirt out around his cock, splashing all over his groin and thighs.

“Fuck, so sexy.” He sighs, swiping down to where his cock disappears inside of you. “One more.”

“N-no! No more!” Overwhelmed by pleasure, you can’t even sob anymore. Too short of breath and dizzy, numb between your thighs as he pulls out completely and readjusts your legs to press down the fronts of your thighs to your chest. “Je-jeno..”

“Shhh, one more for me. Only me.” Bracing his hands on the backs of your knees, he shakes off the sweat dripping down his face. Shoving every inch of his length back inside of your swollen used up pussy. Grinding pointed and perfectly right against the spot deep inside of you, the special place only he’s ever been able to repeatedly reach.

In a blur he races to reach his release. Pretzeling your body in half with his knees lifted off the bed, fully mounted on top of you akin to a predator that’s successfully acquired its kill. Circling its prey with hungry ravenous eyes, licking at his canine teeth ready to dig in. He fucks you through each tear, each trickle of drool that slips from the corners of your lips, each pulsing painful grip your cunt gives his cock. Furiously digging his toes into the bed to bury his length to the hilt, his thrust grow sloppy. Grinding into you one last time as his hips stutter and the sudden mind-crushing weight of his orgasm slams into him like a car wreck.

“Fuck, every drop,” he whines, hitting you with one more weak thrust as hot sticky semen floods your pussy. “All of it for you.”

Gasping through his orgasm, you blink the glassy wet away from your eyes. Sent over the edge again by the visual of his jaw hung open above you, filling you full with cum, warming its way through your twitching stomach.

The weak orgasm that hits you still tightens your muscles around his length. Both of you hissing when he tries to pull his overly sensitive cock away from it, dropping your legs to rest on his hips. He collapses to your side, biting down on his teeth as he pulls out with a loud pop and cum follows after him, dribbling down to your ass and the bed.

“Puppy..” you whine desperately, continuing to tremble through the aftershocks of repeated orgasms. “Kiss me.”

His eyes widen upon your request, staring up at the dark ceiling, still trying to catch his breath. “What?”

“Kiss me, I want a kiss.” You whisper with less confidence, scratching at his shoulder. “Please..”

Jeno’s eyebrows furrow, eyeing you from his peripheral vision. “I should go to my room, clean off before I fall asleep..”

“What?”

Sitting up, he hops off the bed in search of his clothing. “Yeah uh, it’s getting late.” He mumbles out quickly, hopping one leg into his pants. “I’ll end up falling asleep in here if I don’t get up now.”

“Is that..” You sniffle, sitting up with your arms circling around your chest. “..a bad thing?”

“Well yeah.” Setting your dress onto the bed, he tugs back on his shirt. “What if someone sees me leaving your room in the morning?”

“Because that’s all you care about.” You nod, sucking in your lips to hold in a cry.

“We both care about that, pretty sure.”

“You don’t get it.” You snap, getting up to throw on an oversized t-shirt. “You don’t fucking get it. You never have and you never will!”

“Get what?” Jeno glances around one more time to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. Oblivious to the tears that continue to roll down your face as you storm past him toward the door.

“Where are you going?!”

“Leave me alone!” You shout, attempting to slam your bedroom door shut before rushing out down the hallway. Using his chest to halt the wood from meeting the frame, he follows after you, eyes wide and full of panic.

“What the hell is your problem?!” He hisses, fully aware of everyone’s bedrooms that you’re passing by on the way toward the backyard. “Come back here! Let’s go inside!”

“I said leave me alone!” You scream deeply once stepping outside. Running past the pool toward the gate that leads out to the sand and beach. “Go away Jeno!”

“No! Come on! What the hell are you doing! It’s so late!”

“Then go away! Fuck off! God just fucking leave me alone!! You were going to anyways!”

“Stop!” Finally catching up to you, he latches onto your arm halfway through the sand. Toes burying into the now cooled off grains that scratch and soothe his skin at the same time. “Let’s go back inside, right now!”

“Why! You don’t fucking care.” You spit out, snatching your arm away. “Don’t fucking touch me, please! Leave me alone!”

Jeno’s jaw hangs loose, staring at you with a look full of confusion and disbelief. “We were having a good time—I don’t get it, what the hell—“

“You were having a good time.” You bark, shoving at his chest. “You.”

“Is this about him? Is this about Jaemin?”

“You’re un-fucking-believable, you know that?!? Ugh! I’m such an idiot! All of this time I’ve wasted on your ass!”

“What are you yelling about?!”

“Do you even know! Do you even have a damn fucking clue how many times your friends have tried to fuck me! And I still choose you!” Digging through your hair in a furious rage, you bellow out a scream between a sob. The sadness you’ve pushed aside consuming your anger as tears push out in rivlets. “You don’t get it! And I’m the dumb idiot that held onto hope that you would..”

“Why are you telling me this?! To piss me off even more!” Jeno’s fist clench, jaw locked tight at the mention of his friends. Who fucking cares if they all want to fuck you. They don’t get to! And that’s the point, you belong to him and only him.

“Oh God,” the sound of waves crashing against sand behind you only spins your head around faster. Trying to fully snap out of every thought and concern you’d locked up because you just liked him too damn much. “I’m gonna be sick. I can’t believe I—I did this to myself. That I let you do this to me!”

“Do what to you?!” Jeno wishes you’d spit it out already. Rubbing at his temples with his thumb and ring finger, he thinks about earlier. The way you were flirting up a damn hurricane with Jaemin. “If you want to be with him, fucking say that! Stop dragging me around—“

“Dragging you around?!” You cut him off, shouting nearly demonically. Grabbing your own throat out of shock at your gravelly tone. “You have the nerve! The fucking gull to corner me every chance you get and tell me I am dragging you around?! Oh my God.”

“Listen, you need to calm down.” Holding up his hands as a sign of peace, he startles and jumps back when you slap them out of your way.

“No!” The corners of your lips drag down more, sucking up the tears that won’t stop. Wet sobs mixing between your struggling breaths. “I’m so so stupid. All of this time, so stupid. Wish I hated you so fucking badly.”

“You do..” he should shut up at this point. But he can’t, much like vomit, speech continues to spew from his mouth despite his mind insisting he shut up. “You do hate me. You hate everything about me.”

“Yeah.” Scrubbing your closed up fists down your cheeks, you glare at him with the most pained expression he’s ever seen on your delicate face. Ripping right through his chest with the lack of hope left in your gaze. “I hate this. Hate how I fall for you so easily.”

Jeno’s mind seems to finally win, digging his hands into his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to grab you. He listens, sealing his mouth shut to finally listen.

“Hate when I feel your eyes on me when you think I don’t notice you. Hate how I have to pretend your stupid immature jokes aren’t funny. Hate when I do find you watching me, and you look away, even blush and try to play it off. How pretty your eyes look when they disappear when you smile. How stupid you look coming out of the pool with your messy hair sticking up every direction. How you sing along to all of my favorite songs and ruin them for me.” Letting out a long sigh, you cross your arms to hug your chest, shivering from the cool breeze that builds the longer you stand there.

“I hate how I smile when I see a new text from you. How nice you smell when you shouldn’t, how your clothes always feel softer than anyone else’s. Hate the way you play guitar, how you pretended to yawn during that sappy romance movie we watched last summer when you were actually trying not to cry. Hate how you always play with the beach dogs by barking back at them with your tongue hanging out.”

Jeno can feel the warmth gathering behind his eyes, desperate to pull a yawn right now for the same reason he did while watching Silver Linings Playbook last summer. He pulls at the inside lining in his pockets, biting down on his lip, blinking rapidly.

“But mostly, I hate myself, because I tried so hard.” You blink a fresh cascade of tears, bringing your hands up to hide your face. “I tried so hard to pretend to hate you, to avoid this, to not get hurt.”

His mouth opens to speak, throat locked tight by invisible chains that squeeze around his vocal chords. “I—“

“You don’t care.” Shrugging, you wipe at your face and step around him.

“Wait! No—“ scrambling to stop you, he wraps around your elbow. Practically losing his balance in the sand to stop you as his feet dig in for a better hold.

“Leave me alone!” You plead, ripping your hands free of his hold. “Please. Please do this one thing for me, for once.”

As much as it aches and pinches between his chest, he drops his hands, fingers twitching by his hips to stop you.

Dropping your head back, you aggressively wipe at your eyes, turning away from him without another look.

Standing there with his feet surrounded by cooled sand, he watches your figure grow smaller and smaller until you disappear back inside of the house. You don’t want to be around him right now.. he needs to understand that.

Tomorrow. You can talk about this tomorrow when you’re both feeling more level-headed and have had time to cool down. Sinking down to his knees, he pats over the footprints you left behind. Squeezing his eyes shut as the tears he held in finally find an escape and burn down his cheeks.

This feels wrong, in his heart all of this feels so wrong. But for once he’ll do as you say and leave you alone..

Tomorrow, he’ll fix this.

♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡

Sleep never comes.

Not even counting sheep or chewing down melatonin gummies made a difference. Jeno couldn’t stop thinking about the way you cried and screamed, threw him off and ran away.

You just needed to cool off. The two of you always fight, it’s what you do, and then you fuck and everythings fine again. This fight was different, more intense and left him feeling guilty. With bloodshot eyes he stared at the ceiling for hours thinking of all the different ways he could explain himself to you.

He had fully intended to confess his real feelings to you this summer. Even if it led to getting egg smeared all over his face, embarrassment and rejection. Not as if it’d be anything new, you love to humiliate him..

It’s still early, but he can’t take it anymore. The sound of pots clinking and dishes clattering from the kitchen gets him on his feet. If the guys are already awake and being noisy, you’ll follow in no time. He has to talk to you even if you haven’t cooled off by now..

Pacing in front of your door, he chews at his fingernails. Biting them down to the skin until a few feel raw and sore. He’s psyching himself out, building up the fear of what will happen after he knocks on your door.

“What’re you doing?” Jaemin groans, draping himself against the wall in only his boxers. Eyes puffy and hair sticking up in every direction. “Why are you walking back and forth out here?”

“I’m uh,” Jeno runs a hand through his hair. “Gonna make some coffee, wanted to ask if she wants any.” Coming up with a fast excuse, he points toward your bedroom with his thumb.

“Didn’t she leave already?” Jaemin yawns, rubbing and slapping his face to wake up.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I woke up to pee a few hours ago,” Jaemin yawns again, shaking the sleep away with wide wet eyes. “She said bye, had her luggage.” He shrugs. “Something about having to head home early.”

“What??” Jeno freezes, quickly turning to your door to shove it open. Everything’s gone, the beds made, the closet open and emptied. All of your belongings are gone, as if you hadn’t just occupied the room mere hours ago. “Why would she..”

“I don’t know,” tapping his head against the wall, Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him. “Can I ask you something?”

“What??” Jeno’s still in a panic, pulling at a chunk of his hair with a distressed appearance. Why the fuck would you leave?! Without even telling him??

“You know, like, years ago? That one time we were all playing chicken.” Jaemin asks quietly, morning voice still thick and raspy from lack of use. “I thought..” he laughs softly, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I thought—but you know, when it was your turn..”

“What about it??”

“Obviously all of us thought it was uh—you know,” he coughs awkwardly, rubbing over his bare chest self consciously. “Hot. I’ve been with Jini all these years, but I guess I’ve sort of had a small crush I’ve been ignoring ever since that night..”

Jeno stops pacing in front of your door to glare at his friend. A befuddled expression skewing his face. “What are you trying to say right now?”

“You see, you’re my best friend.” Jaemin straightens up, standing up straight, blinking his eyes open. “Even so, I know to mind my own business but..”

“Spit it out Jaemin.”

“Do you like her?” He squints, lip trembling as if he’s too nervous to even ask. “It’s just..”

“I do.” Jeno says between gritted teeth, holding in his breath to calm down. “I do, and I messed up everything. I fucking—fucked everything up.”

Jaemin nods, patting him on the arm. “Maybe you did, but Laguna isn’t that far of a drive from here.” Adding a nod of encouragement, he squeezes Jeno’s shoulder.

“But..”

“Don’t bring my car back with an empty tank.” Jaemin smiles, motioning for his friend to head out. “Keys are on the kitchen counter.”

Jeno stares at him for a moment, wondering how Jaemin figured everything out. Mildly guilted by the fact that he’s never shared his feelings for you with him.

“Go.” Jaemin smiles, nudging him further down the hall. “The bus to Orange County doesn’t take that long.”

“I’ll explain everything later.” Jeno assures, throwing an arm around Jaemin before running off toward the kitchen. He hasn’t even had time to shower, eat, drink any caffeine. The anxiety rising in his chest lifts his feet off the ground, quickly waving off his friends that yell at him to slow down as he races past them and snatches up the keys to Jaemin’s jeep.

There’s no time to waste, assuming that you’re on your way home, he runs to start the car's engine up. Pure adrenaline sets his foot on the gas before the jeeps even had enough time to warm up, rushing out of the streets to get on the freeway.

He hasn’t thought this through at all. Never even been to your house or visited your city once before. What if you don’t want to see him? This will all be a waste of time.

But he has time to waste on you, he wants to fix this, needs to talk to you. Needs you to know how he really feels about you. Last night was more overwhelming than he had anticipated.

He tries and tries so hard to read you, figure out what’s going on in your head. To know if you even see him as more than a quick and easy way to get off..

What if you tell him to fuck off? Leave you alone like you screamed at him not even more than 10 hours ago..

It’s all he can think about on this quiet long drive. Fighting off his emotions and guilt-ridden conscience that continues to replay your tearful eyes. Alone with his thoughts again, his heart that screams out your name.

“This has to be it.”

‘The big house in the middle of the street with a dusty pink roof, you can’t miss it.’

That’s how Mark described it over the phone when he pulled out of the driveway and realized he had no idea where exactly you live other than knowing you’re somewhere out in Laguna.

‘And the mailbox, you can’t miss the mailbox. My aunt’s like a hippie, she built it herself to resemble a birdhouse.’

Yup. There’s the cute dusty rose mailbox your mom must have made. He nods, messing with his messy head of bed hair that he had no time to even bother fixing before rushing out of the summer house. The drive took nearly 4 hours without traffic. Maybe your bus beat his time, he should ring the doorbell..

God, what if your mom answers?! Or worse, your father?! He really didn’t think this through. He could call you, but what are the chances you’ll even answer him right now.

“I’m such an idiot.” He sighs, sitting down on the steps in front of your house.

Maybe this was a mistake, choosing to impulsively run after you. He fucked up badly, and there’s no way to prove that to you now. Jaemin would treat you way better than he has, he can’t even be upset about it either. He knows his best friend well enough to know he’d worship at your feet probably even worse than he did with Jini. You deserve to be adored and loved.. all he’s ever done is shown you hatred.

“Jeno?”

The sound of a car driving off follows, lifting his gaze to find your confused expression looking back at him as your driver pulls off. He did make it here before you..

“What are you doing here.” And you don’t sound happy about it. Speaking with a stiff tone and lack of curiosity, voice laced with anger. Why would you be happy to see him? He couldn’t have really expected that, even if he hoped for it.

“I, uh,” hopping to stand up, he pats off his jeans. Clearing his throat to ward off the tremble that passes through his vocal chords. “You left.��

Looking over Jaemin’s jeep, you squint, glaring back and forth between the car and back at him. “Did you drive here all the way from Santa Barbara?!”

“Yes.” He says clearly, hands fidgeting by his hips.

“Why.” The stern tone you speak with fails to waver, only emphasized by your stressed features. “Why are you here, why would you do that. And by yourself?! You barely leave the West side! All you ever do is talk crap on the OC. Why would you make this long drive here all by yourself—“

“Because!” He interrupts abruptly, chest tightening up the more you rant at him. “You left!”

“So?!? Why the hell do you care!”

“You—you didn’t give me a chance—“

“Give you a chance??” You repeat in disbelief, eyes blown fully wide. “A chance? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I wanted to let you cool off! So we could start over and talk and I could tell you,” he chokes up, staggering back from foot to foot. Air becomes harder to swallow, shrinking in on himself when you interrupt him again, shouting to the high heavens.

“Talk about what! You said enough last night! Made it pretty fucking clear to me that this is a waste of my damn time! You can’t stand me, think I’m disgusting, clearly just fucking used me!”

“That’s—that’s not true.” He swallows, reaching for his throat. “You, you ran away!”

“And you let me.” With flared nostrils, you shoot daggers straight through his chest. “You think.. you can just show up here, at my fucking house? And what? What do you even still want from me? Came here to get your one last fuck in? Kick me one more time straight through my chest to make sure I never breathe again?”

“I let you say your piece yesterday.” He whispers, unable to meet your gaze. “And you don’t hate me.”

Letting out a short tired laugh, you slump into yourself. Shaking your head in pure disbelief. “Is that it? You won alright. I don’t fucking hate you.”

“Then I did win.” He nods, forcing himself to meet your rage filled gaze. “Because I’ve never hated you.”

“What? You’re going to tell me you’ve liked me all of this time? That you’re just an immature asshole with zero communication skills?” You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest angrily.

“I think I liked you before you ever even noticed me..” he admits feebly, lifting the balls of his feet off the ground to stand on his heels. The same anxious habit he’s had for years. “I should have told you, I know. I should have ended this thing we had going on and been honest with you. I have no excuse for my behavior..”

“You really expect me to believe you now? When you could have done something about this last night? When I poured my heart out for you?” As dramatic as you sound, he can’t fault you for it. You have every right to be as angry as you are. He’s only surprised that you haven’t reached out to slap him across the face yet.

“I’m a coward.” Taking a long deep breath, he instinctively clutches at his chest to calm his speeding heart rate. “After all this time, I never thought that you’d be the first one to confess. I always thought it’d be me, and I was ready to this summer. I know it’s selfish of me, but with you moving away for university next year, I thought..”

“Thought what?”

“That we could—“ Jeno can feel the burn behind his eyes, blinking rapidly at the moisture that’s coated his iris. Gnawing at his trembling lower lip to keep as much of a confident facade as he can. He stares ahead, time standing still as he takes in your face. The furrow between your eyebrows softening, the tension at the corners of your mouth dissipating. Even now he’s afraid of losing you, but hasn’t he already? Does he have a choice besides to let you go now?

“Jeno.”

“We could try hanging out, beyond summer vacation. That I could take you out finally, and maybe even ask you to be my girlfriend.” His eyes blink shut on that last word, digging a hand into his pocket to wrap around the small velvet bag crushed inside there. “Only if you’d want that..”

Opening his eyes, he can’t stop the few tears that trickle out. Slowly blinking at the wetness clumping his eyelashes together. “Only if you want to be mine.”

It was never supposed to be this way. Standing here before you lacking the right words to say, failing to his own fear of rejection. “I’ve never hated you.” He nods, patting his upper thigh nervously. “And I’m sorry for pushing you away when I should have been the one on my knees for you.”

Redness paints the whites of your eyes, shaking where you stand with your arms circling around your waist. He’d reach out to replace them if you’d let him.. wrap you in the tightest hug, chest to chest, pulse to pulse. “And I’m sorry that I came here to do this but..” dropping the velvet baggy from between his fingers, he steps closer to you. Dragged closer by the imaginary weight of the light object that holds all his deepest secrets and fears. “I’m not really sorry that I did.”

“Jeno..”

“You deserve to know that I love everything about you.” Wiping at his cheeks, he lets out a pitiful laugh. There’s nothing he can feel ashamed of anymore, and it took this moment to realize that. He had to steal Jaemin’s jeep, had to drive 20 miles above the limit, had to rush here for this. Because this wasn’t how he had planned for this summer to go.

You were supposed to have the biggest smile on your face thanks to him, but now here you are, crying again. Tracks of tears staining your cheeks, swelling up your eyes that haven’t had time to fully recover from all of the crying you did last night. He doesn’t deserve to hold pride or carry on a false sense of strength anymore.

“I really fucked up, I think..” tugging the velvet pouch out of his pocket, he holds it out for you. “I think that uh, I wanted to be what I thought you wanted. And I was wrong, I was so wrong. I lost myself a little there when I heard you talking to Jaemin, I got jealous.”

“Jeno,” taking a hold of one of his hands, you only seem to cry harder. Drawing him to stand even closer to you. “I wanted you to be jealous, I wanted you to care about me.”

“Might be useless to say this now, but I care about you a lot.” Letting out a sigh of relief, he sets the pouch in your hand. “Even if we end things for good, I want you to know that this always meant something to me. That I’ve always liked you and hoped for more. That I am your puppy.”

“You’re not fucking with me?” You ask, pouting sadly and testing the weight of the pouch in your hand. “What is this?”

“Open it.”

“I’m scared.” You sniffle, hands shaking as you reach for the pouches opening.

“I know you’re going to university up North after summer..” Jeno sighs, anxiously scratching the back of his neck. “And like I said, I had plans to change things between us this summer..”

“Jeno? What is this?” You break into a smile, a new round of tears trail down to gather in drops at your chin. “You didn’t..”

“Because, I really like you.” Clearing his throat, he spreads out the necklace chain that you’ve taken out onto your palm. Swiping the tip of his finger across the engraved writing on the back of the dog paw charm. “I don’t know, you might forget about me after this summer. It’s fine.” He shrugs to seem calm. Not actually fine with the idea of you erasing the memory of him. “But I wanted to give you something to remember me.”

“You got this for me?”

“I don’t know if you remember that night..” he nods, tight-lipped. “You drank too much,” picking up the charm, he lifts the piece of shining jewelry closer to your eyes. “Anyway, it’s just uhm...”

“I do, I remember.” You struggle to hide a smile, tracing over the words that read back ‘if lost, return to owner’.

Jeno frowns, itching to clean the tears off of your chin before they fall and land on your chest. Aching to find the right words that could ease your pain.

“It’s not much, I know..”

“I love it.”

“Do you?” He sighs nervously, unclasping the necklace to chain it around your neck.

“Am I your owner?”

“..I want you to be.” His throat bobs up and down, gulping to soothe the dryness scratching through his throat. “I want to be yours.”

“So you’ve always liked me?” Losing the battle to hide your smile, you bite down on your lip. Sweeping away the mess of tears continuing to run down your face. “When you say you’ve always liked me..”

“Ever since the first summer at the beach house when I called you cute.”

“Even after I was grossed out?”

“Even after you were grossed out.” Laughing it off, he takes a hold of your hand with a raised eyebrow.

“Jeno, I hate you, you know that right?”

“You know that I love that, right?” He asks in return, taking the chance to cup your cheeks and clean off the residue of tears. “It’s our thing.”

“It is our thing..”

“So, what do you think?” Biting at the insides of his cheeks, his smooths his free hand down the side of your neck. Eyebrows raised with wrinkles set between, hopeful that the smile forming on your face is a good sign.

“I think.. you drove all of this way to get here.. and my parents aren’t home.” Shyly smiling, you bury into his hold. Cheeks flamed with heat, demurely lowering your head to look at your feet.

“They aren’t?” His eyes go wide full of excitement, softly caressing the skin lining your throat.

“Do you want to come inside?”

“Am I about to see your room for the first time?”

“If you want to, do you?”

“Of course!” Jeno smiles wide, clearing his throat and quickly reeling it in to appear cool. “I mean.. yes.”

“Of course you do,” you tease, nodding for him to follow you inside. “You likeeeeee me.”

Jeno waits for you to unlock the front door, bouncing back and forth on the heels of his feet. Normally this deep into a conversation with you, his throat would be hoarse from screaming by now. Instead he feels clammy, short of breath; nervously chewing on his lips when you turn to look at him and lean against the door frame.

Relief rushes through him when you pucker your lips together and motion for him to come inside. Somehow this feels like a new start, what he should have made happen sooner than this. Stepping forward, he grabs onto your waist, palms damp as his nerves continue to short circuit.

“I do, I really like you.”

“You know.. I like you a lot.” You reassure, wrapping around his shoulders. “I waited for you even after all of my friends told me to give up and move on.”

“You told your friends about me?”

“Don’t act so surprised.” You snicker, tugging at a tuft of hair above his nape. “You’re kind of a big deal to me, but just so you know.. they all actually do hate you.”

Jeno blinks slowly, slightly offended and flattered. Admiring how much softer your eyes feel on him, lighting up at the inner turmoil appearing on his face.

“You’ve got a lot of ass kissing to do.”

“Good thing I’m a pro at that already.” He winks, sinking into the way your fingers dance along the back of his neck. This really is different, even the way his heart races and his body reacts to you. But one thing that certainly hasn’t changed is his desires and incessant craving to be all over you.

“Kiss me.”

♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡︶♡

Patreon exclusive—> read here

#lee jeno smut #jeno smut #lee jeno fanfiction #jeno fanfiction #neopuppy fics #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction #nct dream smut #nct dream fanfiction #lee jeno x reader #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #nct au #nct dream au #nct imagines

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katszumi · 2 months

Text

every room stood still. your kitten, katsuki insisted on naming 'skullcrusher', also didn't dare to move.

your head hung low, feeling the stuffy air sneak into your lungs. you glanced at the clock on your watch. 7:19. the usual time katsuki arrived at the doorstep.

normally, you'd rush to the door, showering your boyfriend with short pepper kisses on his face. but you remained on the velvet couch, the same couch you picked out when house shopping with katsuki.

a click sounded, indicating the door was recently unlocked. you harshly breathed in the same stuffy air, forcing yourself to swallow the panic that resided inside of you.

katsuki slugged through the door, immediately dropping his bag at the front door. his eyes met yours then to the kitchen, his face contorting slightly at the sight. it was empty?

"no food. what's up with you?" his words came off more formidable than he liked, especially when he knew something wasn’t right.

katsuki inched towards you, his eyebrows wearing an expression of its own. they were furrowed, his right eyebrow a little deeper than the other.

"katsuki," you started, breaking your words off.

he slightly cocked his head in confusion and worry. as he came closer, not only did he see your presence shaking alongside the couch, but he also saw two suitcases behind you that were clearly filled to the brim.

you watched how his eyes widened, how his teeth unclenched leaving his jaw to drop. his ruby irises instantly shot back towards you, scanning your face for any signs that you were playing a joke on him.

"what the fuck." the words leave his mouth too quick for him to register.

you swallowed nothing. "katsuki, we need to talk."

"talk?!" his mouth opened to continue yet no words seemed to come. oddly enough, for the first time, he was speechless.

"i-i need you to listen to me." you hated the fact that you stammered on your words.

"and then what?!" he paused, "you leave me?" katsuki's voice lowered in volume, a tone of angst leaked within his words.

you attempt to stand strong. you weren't even sure if this was the right choice now by looking at his wounded face.

slowly, you nodded.

"yes."

katsuki was expecting that. hell. who wouldn't when their girlfriend has two suitcases behind her? but hearing the words leave her mouth was entirely different. it was like a shot through his heart, the bullet penetrating every piece of restraint he had.

his head turned to the side. he was battling his thoughts; every fucked up thing he did occuring to his mind.

"is it because i left my bloody rag on the counter the night before? because if so, i promise to god, i will never do it again. i know how much you despise it." he went on his own plethora, his words and body language holding enormous amounts of panic.

"katsuki." you reinstated again. if he went on like this much longer, you were afraid you'd never have the strength again to walk out of the door.

"or because i yell too loudly at ungodly hours?" he ignored your words.

"katsuki." you repeated.

"i understand i'm not the easiest person. fuck. i'm even shocked i've gotten this far." he rambled, not caring about a word you have to say. he had to say something, do something, in order to convince you. bargaining with all of his strength. "what have i done? what do i need to fix?"

you reach for his hand, molding your hand to fit in his. you placed your open hand on top, soothing small circles into his skin.

"it's not you, katsuki."

katsuki's face fell. "then, why are you leaving me?"

"i can't live like this. i was not taught to be a housewife. to clean, cook, wait for your arrival every night at seven o'clock just to eat dinner with you." you shook your head. "i don't have a job or even a hobby! i am stuck within these walls everyday, the paparazzi at damn near every corner doesn't help either. i am exhausted being alone all day."

you could feel the sweat accumulate on katsuki's palms.

"i'll tell the media to back off. i swear to it. a-and, i know somebody who's looking for help with their business, i can set it u—"

"katsuki, i am miserable here!" you interrupted his words, slightly raising your voice. "i can't do it anymore! you are a pro-hero, dedicating your life to these people everyday. and what am i doing? making sure that your stomach is filled and that there's no stains on a countertop!"

katsuki was quiet, allowing the words to settle in. taking the moment of silence of advantage, you slipped your hands from his.

"you're a pro hero. you've made the ranks. you've accomplished everything you've hoped for." you sighed. "i just don't fit within your schedule."

katsuki remained silent, reality now kicking in for him. he bit the inside of his cheek to restrain the tears that were welling in his eyes.

"i'm sorry. i truly, really am. i just need to accomplish my own goals before it's too late."

katsuki's eyes fell to the ground, a very slow nod coming from him. he cleared his throat, also sniffling to remove the snot that was aching to run down his nose.

"where will you be staying?"

you echoed his action from earlier, turning your head sideways. you couldn't face him anymore after utterly destroying his heart.

"it's best if you don't know."

he paused. "right."

you spun on your heel to bend down behind you, grabbing your overly stuffed suitcases. you increased the height on the handles, slowly trudging them towards the door.

you couldn't believe that this was happening. it was a last minute decision. lying down in bed, realizing that if this continued, you'd be nothing more but a trophy wife that's made no true accomplishments on her own.

you were more than that. more than a cleaner and cook.

"i didn't accomplish everything." katsuki broke the silence.

you halted your steps, peering at him over your shoulder. you hoped he took the silence as permission to continue.

"i wanted to marry you. have a big ass wedding reception and drink until we could barely see anymore." he dryly chuckled. "maybe even have a few flowergirls of our own. that goal mattered more to me than any accomplishments i've made before in this life." your heart clenched at the fact.

tears covered your vision, your breathing starting to become sporadic.

"you can keep skullcrusher." you faced forward, grabbing the door handle. "i love you, kats. thank you for everything." your words trembled, tears uncontrollably streaming down your face.

as the door shut behind you, katsuki buried his face into his hands, and cried like a little boy in his now empty, silent home.

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azrielsrealmate · 2 months

Text

never just a best friend

azriel x reader

summary: your best friends offers a massage after a stressing day, only that his hands end up slipping to dangerous places.

warnings: smut

word count: 2k

Your feet ached, your head throbbed, and your skin itched in places you couldn’t reach to scratch. And your back—God, your back hurt.

You just needed a break. A break longer than the eight hours of sleep you rarely had time to get.

Azriel’s gaze from where he sat at the edge of your bed made the back of your neck burn. So you hurried to pull your shirt over your head, and the feeling disappeared, knowing he’d look anywhere but at you while you changed. You almost sighed in relief, almost rubbed the space between your brows. But instead, you unclasped your bra and slipped into a shirt several sizes larger than what you usually wore.

You hadn’t deliberately chosen Azriel’s shirt to breathe in the comforting scent of cedar and mist instead of the tobacco and beer your idiot ex had left lingering everywhere. You really hadn’t. But it was a relief you hadn’t known you needed.

“What happened?”

A simple question, but spoken in that voice, deep yet so soft, like silk brushing against clean skin, it almost made you sob.

What happened wasn’t the question; the question was why you felt so easily overwhelmed. You turned to look at him, and the caramel color of his eyes softened as he read how overstimulated you felt. He stood up, and even from the distance between you, you could clearly see how tall he was.

He crossed the space in mere seconds, and his scarred palm found your cheek, cradling it tenderly. Your eyes closed involuntarily. The warmth of his hand melted your mind, sending the hot liquid of it out of your body in the form of a sigh.

“What happened?” he repeated again.

You sighed.

“Adrik.” You said the name of your ex, not needing to open your eyes to know that Azriel’s features had hardened.

You spent so much time watching him that you’d almost memorized his micro-expressions.

“I ran into him at the café next door, and…” your best friend’s thumb stroked your cheek, encouraging you to continue. “Well, obviously, it didn’t end well.”

“What did he do?” Azriel asked, his voice rough. So different from how he’d asked what happened earlier. You could hear the sharp undertone clearly.

You’d been through this before.

You shook your head and moved his hand away from your cheek, your thumb tracing a small caress on his skin before letting go. You took off your pants, because you slept with little clothes, and you sighed heavily, walking toward your side of the bed.

“He just stuck to me like the worm he is.” You didn’t even want to imagine what would happen to the poor drunk Adrik if you let go of the weakening reins on Azriel. The muscles under your skin tingled pleasantly just thinking about it. Adrik had treated you so poorly, and it would be so easy to let Azriel handle him…

But, no. No. You weren’t doing this.

You sat on the bed, feeling your body tense slightly under his gaze. He studied you as if he wanted to squeeze out that feeling he knew existed in you, the one you worked so hard to push down, to extract and stretch it so he could examine it.

“What do you mean by…” his brows furrowed, finally processing your words.

You didn’t let him finish.

“Damn it, Azriel, he left after two minutes. Please, just lie down, I’ve had the worst day ever,” you pleaded, feeling a cramp run down your back. “And to top it all off, my back hurts,” you complained.

You heard Azriel exhale. It took him a fraction of a second to speak.

“I can see the tension in your muscles from here,” he said.

You rolled your shoulders, as if that would bring relief.

“It’s not that bad.”

He didn’t pay you the slightest attention.

“Where did you leave the oil from last time?” The last time he’d worked a wonderful massage on your back, you could swear it could have made you finish faster than Adrik ever had.

The silence in the room grew thicker as Azriel waited for your response. You knew he wouldn’t move until you told him. Not because he was pressuring you, but because he wanted to take care of you. As he always did.

“It’s in the nightstand, top drawer,” you replied, trying to sound casual, even though you knew exactly what it meant once he put his hands on you.

Azriel walked over to the nightstand, pulled out the small bottle of oil, and held it in his hand for a moment, assessing your state. His eyes met yours, and something in his gaze made your breath quicken slightly. It wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a massage, but this time, there was a tension between you that you couldn’t ignore, not when it made anticipation itch in your skin.

“Take off your shirt,” he instructed, his voice soft but firm. Your heart skipped a beat, and you hesitated for a moment, but seeing the calm in his eyes, you made up your mind. Slowly, you removed your shirt, revealing your body covered only by a tiny black thong.

Azriel swallowed, his eyes darkening slightly as they roamed over your figure. You felt a warmth spread across your skin under his intense gaze, but you remained still, waiting for his next move.

He approached, leaned in, and his large, warm hands grabbed your hips, quickly dragging you until you were sitting where he could rest his hands on your shoulders first, beginning with a light pressure. His touch was firm but gentle, and he began working on your tense muscles, gliding down your back with expertise. The oil, warm against your skin, made it easier for his hands to move as he focused on relaxing you.

A sigh escaped your lips as you felt a knot dissolve under his fingers. He leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear.

“Let go of all that tension,” he murmured, his voice rough with concentration as his hands traveled down your back to the curve of your waist, his thumbs pressing gently at the base of your spine.

A low moan escaped you, and you closed your eyes, allowing the pleasure of the massage to envelop you completely. Azriel continued, his hands moving confidently, exploring every inch of your lower back, dangerously close to the edge of your thong. His touch was addictive, and though you tried to stay calm, you felt your body reacting to every caress, every calculated pressure.

“You have no idea how beautiful you look,” Azriel whispered, his voice vibrating against your skin as his hands paused for a moment, just above the line of your thong. The heat in his voice made you shiver.

Opening your eyes, you turned your head slightly to look at him, finding his face close to yours, his eyes locked on yours. The tension in the room became almost palpable, and in that instant, you knew you had crossed a line.

Azriel lowered his hands, sliding them down your hips to the edge of your thong, slowly—too slowly.

He stopped in the curve of your hips, squeezed the flesh, in his hands, feeling and appreciating them. And slowly, he guided one hand toward your abdomen, the other toward your ribs.

You whimpered slightly, needily, your breath heavy.

“Be patient,” he murmured against your ear, your eyes fluttering closed. You felt the warmth of his hand move up to cup one of your breasts, relishing its size. Your brows arched. “Az…” you sighed.

His other hand slid down to slip under the fabric of your black thong, finding there a wetness that made him hum in satisfaction.

“So wet, all this for me?” You moaned again, struggling to keep your eyes open.

His scarred fingers explored your wetness, tracing a line from your entrance to your clitoris, spreading all your arousal. He drew a circle on your clit, torturously slow, tentative, you might have said if your brain weren’t mush.

Your back arched again. “Azriel,” you moaned his name, and he, in turn, growled in your ear.

“Do you like that?” he asked, and you realized he wanted an answer when he stopped his fingers.

“Yes, yes!” you pleaded, almost desperately.

Azriel let out a low sound, almost a growl, upon hearing your response, satisfied with the power he had over you in that moment. His hand remained still, his fingers barely brushing your clit, enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to give you the relief you so desperately craved. The tension in the room was palpable, each passing second seemed to stretch time, amplifying the desire that wrapped around you.

“If you enjoy it so much,” he murmured against your neck, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine, “then you’re going to wait a little longer.”

The sweet agony of anticipation spread through your body as Azriel maintained that light, frustrating touch that made every fiber of your being burn with desire. You tried to move, seeking more of him, more of that contact that promised so much, but his hands became firm, holding you in place.

“Don’t move,” he ordered gently, and there was an authority in his voice that made you obey without hesitation. There was something about the way Azriel controlled you, how he handled your body with such precision, that made you feel vulnerable and at the same time completely safe. You felt the heat of his body against your back, his hardness pressed against you as his scarred fingers moved again, this time applying more pressure on your clit. The pleasure that blossomed from that simple touch was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but moan, arching your back to get closer to him.

"Good girl," Azriel whispered, his tone laden with satisfaction as he increased the rhythm of his caresses. You felt his other hand slide up your abdomen, moving up to caress your breasts, squeezing them with a possessiveness that made your breath catch in your throat. His lips pressed against your neck, sending waves of pleasure through your body as his fingers continued to play with your wetness.

“I want you to come for me,” he growled against your ear, his voice a comman. And with that, his movements became more intense, more urgent. The sweet torture he’d imposed on you faded into a wave of pleasure so overwhelming that it left you trembling, your moans turning into cries of pleasure as you approached the edge. His fingertips skilfully working on your clit.

Azriel’s fingers worked with expert precision, pushing you closer and closer to the precipice of an orgasm, until you finally exploded in a wave of pure pleasure, your body trembling as you were suddenly blind and deaf from pleasure. You let out a long, satisfied moan as Azriel’s name escaped your lips in a sigh, your whole being consumed by the heat of that moment.

And even as the pleasure began to fade, Azriel didn’t stop. His hands continued to explore your body, his lips still pressed against your neck, leaving wet kisses that sent delicious shivers through your spine. The sensation of his touch, so skilled and confident, combined with the residual pleasure of your orgasm, left you breathless, utterly spent in his arms.

When you finally came down from that blissful high, you turned to look at him, finding a possessive gleam in his eyes, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

Well, you had never considered him just your best friend.

"I hope your back doesn’t hurt anymore.”

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k9wa · 6 months

Text

⟁ A BULLET A DAY, ft. BOOTHILL.

⠀ — where teasing, annoying, poking and prodding all fall under the same category; flirting.

⚠︎︎ more mechanic! reader, gn, boothill being an idiot, flirting, suggestive, he has fake teeth to me, something about tension + leaving him high and dry is soooo ….

from this request !

it’s a miracle, truly, how boothill manages to be so tempting and endearing yet so utterly irritating and infuriating at the same time.

and it’s hot, sure, but that just makes it all the more annoying, leaves you frustrated and with an odd pool in your stomach.

boothill managed his way into your supply of bullets, happily tossing back the brass casings like a simple snack. it was a genius idea at the time, really, giving him a stomach that can store ammunition. though had you expected him to chew on the damn things instead of swallowing them— you know, like he was intended to— you would’ve just given him a little side bag to save yourself the work.

you half hoped the lead stuffing the things would seep into his still intact brain, but chastised yourself for the thought soon after having it. you don’t hate him that much. your brain should check back and try the thought again in twenty minutes.

“y’know what’d be real neat, buttercup?” boothill’s legs were kicked up lazily on your workbench as he sat next to you, waiting for you to finish a small modification on his revolver. “spikes in my boots.” he lifted a foot up, rolling his ankle a bit. “you know, them retractable ones. be able t’a have some real fun with those things.”

you snorted, his efforts to dodge his synesthesia beacon as entertaining as always.

“since when do i take requests?” you asked, eyes focused down on your work— far too used to his antics to lift your head anymore.

“since when d’you deny gettin’ to tinker with me?”

he brought his feet down to the floor and leaned forward on his thighs, the denim of his pants tightening around them. “what, gonna make me say please and thank ya now?”

you truly wanted to reply, say it wasn’t a half bad idea and that you’d look into the upgrade. until he started shaking a few bullets around in his palm like they were fucking almonds.

now boothill noticed the clench of your jaw, and oh how he revelled in it. he’s fully aware how the crunching of brass and lead peeves you, ie. you telling him to knock it off an hour ago— (“it ain’t hurtin’ nobody, is it now?”—) but you’re just so darn cute when you’re ticked off. he’s gotta push your buttons just a lil bit.

“somethin’ the matter?” the way his sharp teeth gleamed through that damn grin weren’t doing anything to help.

he took a bullet between his thumb and forefinger, the shiny gunmetal digits pinching the ammunition as he held it up next to you. “d’ya care for one, sugar plum?”

fine, you thought. two can play that game.

you tore your attention away from the old steel revolver, finally turning to look at him. boothill prepared for an insult, one he’d tell you was ‘flatterin’ and all,’ but it didn’t come.

you leaned towards his hand, keeping your eyes locked with his that glowed a familiar and faint red.

then you took the bullet between your tongue and top front teeth, gently pulling it out of his hands with your mouth.

his smirk actually dropped— you’d think someone stuck an infected usb into his ear with all the ideas that flooded the forefront of his brain, making his circuits just tingle with excitement. something about the hot single mechanic in his area.

you turned back to your desk, removing the bullet from your teeth and twirling it between your fingers idly as you gave a once over to his revolver, as if nothing had happened.

boothill blinked, chuckling gruffly with a shake of his head as he slumped back in his chair, flicking another bullet into the air with his thumb and catching it in his palm with a gentle clink! the cyborg gave a low whistle as he kicked his feet back up.

“ain’t you somethin’,” he drawled, earning a chuckle from you. “y’sure know how t’keep a man on his toes, don’t ya buttercup?”

“i dunno what you mean, boothill.” you only offered a hum, willfully ignorant to boothill’s colourful imagination.

“oh i’m real sure y’don’t.” he shook his head, another chuckle rumbling his chest and sending a shiver down your neck.

“say,” he leaned towards you, his shoulder to yours, feeling a little lucky and dropping his voice to a knee-weakening purr, “if that pretty mouth a’yers likes metal, i’m more’en happy t’a—”

“all done.”

all bets go down the drain. boothill deadpanned as you clicked the barrel of his gun into place and handed it back to him, standing up to stretch your arms.

“shops closed for today,” you fold them, leaning back against your bench. “you better get a move on before i have to kick you out.”

boothill’s eyes trailed up your figure, taking his sweet time finding your face. the cowboy raised an eyebrow into a cocky arch despite him swearing his body was on the verge of its cooling protocol.

“you keep woundin’ me, sugar.”

“i dunno what you mean, boothill.”

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

#‘kawa he doesn’t chew—‘ REALITY IS WHAT I MAKE IT.#plus its funny #boothill #boothill x reader #boothill hsr #boothill x you #boothill headcanons #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail headcanons #hsr headcanons #UNEARTHLY

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

Hello! I've read your soap and price fics and you are amazing!!!

I had an idea for a fic for Ghost. The reader would be Soaps slightly older sister who isnt like Johnny at all. Im thinking she either picks up soap from base after an op or from the bar. I'll leave alot of this up to you but i just wanna see Soaps Sister meeting Ghost!!

Brother's Coworker

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Soap's Sister!Reader

SYNOPSIS: In the dim illumination of the streetlights, Ghost lays eyes on a woman leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp.

WORDCOUNT: 4.2k

WARNINGS: Little bit of angst, but mostly fluff and pre-relationship pining, loads of sibling banter, conflicting emotions, etc.

A/N: Finally able to use my sibling experiences for a fic lmfao, enjoy!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The woman was leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp, the custom color a deep forest green along the sides and a cream white coating the upper third. Ghost stared at her as the rest of the men filed out of the bar one after the other—Johnny and Gaz being especially loud. He blinks slowly, hands inside his blackened pockets.

Across the way, your ears perk slowly at the sound of rapturous shouts, but you only continue to look down the sidewalk at the long illuminations of street lamps and the glints of broken bottles on the ground. Over your chest, your hands shift in their hold on your biceps, your thin jacket crinkling. Light dances in your irises.

“Oi, is that who I think it is?!” Familiar Scottish drawl brings a smirk to your face, and you turn slowly to huff, snapping out of your silent thoughts.

“Who else would it be, ya bloody git,” your voice carries, but it lacks the sheer volume of your brother’s; the great boom that reminds you of the bombs he’d used to make out of your mother’s hair spray bottles.

Never a dull day in your childhood home, really.

“‘Bout gave me a heart attack, not answerin’ my calls like that!” Johnny laughs loudly, obviously drunk, and stumbles over merrily. You’re taken into a chest-breaking hug in mere moments, leaving you squirming with a deep grunt. “Should have your head, MacTavish.” You manage to squeak out, “Put me the fuck down, you horror. And what in the hell have you done to your hair?!”

“Oh, my dear sister.” Your brother lets you go as the three other men slink over, amused with the scene but some momentarily confused by the sudden introduction. Gaz laughs, and the Captain huffs a chuckle before fixing the position of his beanie on his head.

Ghost, as always, chooses to watch like a looming shadow above the rest.

Johnny puts a hand to his chest, the other remaining on your shoulder, “You wound me. Such cruelty stuck in your black soul; I say now, mother was always right—”

You smack the side of his head and Johnny grunts.

“Ow!” He yells, glaring at you. “What the fuck?!”

“Open your mouth again and I’ll wring you out, you arse. You know I will.” Grumbling, the Scot rubs the side of his head as you raise a brow at him. The stare-off lasts for a decent bit, and before the rest of the group knows what’s going on, the two of you are embracing each other once more; laughing loudly.

Ghost’s eyebrows pull in slowly.

“Ah, it’s good to be back!” Johnny chuckles, holding you close as you pat his back.

“Of course, I’d find my kid brother at a damn pub on his first day home.” Taking a step away from the hulk of a boy, you brush down your shirt and jacket with a scoff. Looking up, you come to face the remaining men with an exasperated look. “He’s full of shite half the time, y’know, now. Can’t imagine what he puts you all through.”

“Bloody hell, Soap, you were holding out on us,” Gaz chuckles loudly, sticking out a hand for you to shake while he glances at the mohawked Scot who looks giddy despite being insulted by who’s very obviously his older sister. “Never knew you had siblings, Mate.” You take the man’s hand as he smiles brightly at you.

“Kyle.” He says, and you beam back, “But Gaz’ll do just fine.”

“A pleasure,” your voice carries to John who you raise a brow at teasingly. “Well, look who the Reaper’s yet to drag down…Good to see you again, Captain.”

Price shakes his head, a smirk peeling his lips as Gaz steps back.

“Still on that land of yours, then, Love?” The brunette asks gruffly, leaning back on his heels for a moment while you sag your side into Johnny’s arm. Your brother scoffs and loops his limb over the bridge of your shoulders as you nod.

“You know it. Proper quiet when the neighbors aren’t up to a ruckus racin’ down the streets. Christ, those kids are devils—worse than Johnny and I when we were young.”

“Now that’s hard to believe, eh?” The man beside you laughs through his slurred words and you roll your eyes.

Chuckling in return, you blink, spying on the intent black figure behind everyone else. Piercing brown eyes dig past flesh like a scalpel while you tilt your head to the side, interest alighting behind your skull. He doesn’t move or even greet you, just looks over you and then turns his attention to the street like a roaming bear would; hell, he certainly could be a bear with how big he was. Bigger than Johnny, even.

This stranger wears a large brown leather jacket, the hood of his underclothes pulled up to cover most of the pale skin that would otherwise be visible. The long swish of light lashes captures you as you study the way he blinks slowly across the road. On his chin and on the top of his forehead, the fabric of a skeletal-painted balaclava shrouds him. Cargo pants and large black combat boots sit on his feet.

He stands like a statue.

“Who’s this then?” You call easily, and those eyes travel back to you even as the head doesn’t. It’s strange the way you seem to brush aside the blatant intimidation he exudes simply by standing.

“Ah,” John grunts, chuckling, before stepping to the side. “Simon, introduce yourself.”

A low voice lowly wafts after a moment to silence, Manchester accent spearing you in the ears with its rough make-up, “Ghost.”

You blink over at the Captain, but he just shakes his head and you move on. Johnny chuckles and whispers to you, “Don’t mind ‘em, Lt’s a bit rough around the edges.”

Plastering on a polite smile, your chin moves in a nod, “Pleasure to meet you, Ghost. Good to know the other two who look after Johnny out there.” The man beside you feels his face burn, free hand going to itch at his neck.

Ghost grunts and shrugs off the veiled praise, large muscles stiff.

“You’re actin’ like I’m not the one savin’ their skins half the time,” Gaz interjects on the Scot’s point.

“Is that what you call it?” You share an amused glance at John.

Though, your eyes always sway back to Ghost, or Simon, depending on who you ask. He listens to the chatter, obviously, but he seems much more content to only stay with his hands inside of his pockets and study the street for...what exactly? The beast wasn’t shy, no, just…silent. If you didn’t know better you’d call him aggressively casual with the way his shoulders sit.

Stance relaxed but the underlying threat was palpable on the wind. Like a wolf rubbing his cheeks on the ancient trees of his territory. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ - it seems his very DNA states that.

Brown eyes suddenly lock with your own as if snapping into place and before you can release a squeak of alarm, you swiftly dart your gaze away back to the arguing Sergeants; face burning.

Christ, how long had you been staring at him?

“Alright, you two, ease off it!” Trying to distract yourself, you wave a hand. “You’re both too drunk to be gettin’ into street fights at this hour. Johnny, into the car ya fool.”

Your brother slashes you with a grin.

“Fuckin’ finally, a decent bed!” It was tradition to give Johnny the spare room when he was back home—proper meals.

“You’re callin’ mother, y’know.” You unlock your car and motion to the passenger seat with a frown. “I dinnae care if you’re trapped for hours—give the woman a rest of all her worrying.”

“You heard the woman, Sergeant,” John forces the gravel out of his throat, rubbing at his beard. Something hits your chest as your brother opens his door as you stand in the cold. You glance at each man in turn; eyebrows pulling in with thought.

“Ah, what the hell,” your voice huffs out. Ghost watches you closely, blinking as he lifts a hand to itch at his neck from under his hood. The leather jacket crumples with tiny shifts of worn-out material.

“Don’t suppose you boys need any good beds to rest your heads on for the night?” Wiggling your keys, you pat the top of your Hillman as you slide to the driver's side. Johnny slinks inside his own and chuckles as he closes the barrier with a careful thunk.

“Hospitality finally leakin’ in?”

“Next time I hit ya,” you send him a bland look, “I’ll aim for the neck.” Fake flinching towards him, the man squeaks and snaps quickly back into the car door as you snicker lively.

“Beast!” Johnny exclaims. You roll your eyes and shimmy down the window behind him, calling out as the rest share glances.

“Get in if you’re comin’ over! If not all the food I made yesterday’ll go to waste!” That seemed to get Gaz into the back, with only Price and Simon left behind.

Brown meets blue and John’s beard pulls back with a smirk. He clears his throat, “Well, I’m not one to spit in her face.” The Captain walks over and grunts as he bends down.

Ghost sighs under his breath and follows, impartial as to where this night is going. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, no doubt. The hard and unforgiving beds on base were the only things he could rest on now save the ground. And food? He could go without food for days.

Though, being Johnny’s sister bought you some favor, trust wasn’t something that Simon gave around freely. But the car you drove was nice, and the company of his Task Force was easy to basque in until they shipped out again.

Simon sits down on the refurbished seat and softly closes the door behind him. Dead-eyed, he stares at Johnny’s headrest as you glance at him from the rearview mirror—seeing his shoulder dig into the glass of the window.

You shove down a joke and hum. “Good, then, it’ll free my fridge at the very least.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Gaz offers as you start up the engine, “it’s awfully nice of you to do this for us.”

“Ah,” Simon hears you dismiss as he turns to stare out of the window; so often feeling his gaze drawn back to you as a leaf attached to a tree might act. “Don’t worry your head about it. I like the company.”

“Aye, just how she is,” Johnny says earnestly. “Was always the one to let me over with my pals when the football games were over—’cept we were usually covered in mud.”

“I’m still finding grass in my rugs, Johnny Boy,” you mumble, focusing on the road as a slight squeaking emanates from the front of the car. Simon picks up on it easily, not preoccupied with speaking. He glances at you but mentions nothing beyond a shuffling of his thighs.

Outside the land slides past in shades of verdant green and gray as the town falls away.

He was confused, rightly. You’d seen his standoffish nature but had chosen to extend hospitality as the old Greeks did just off a growl of his name. But maybe it was just because he was your brother’s coworker.

Simon grunts to himself and rubs at his wrist. Throughout the ride, the two of you would glance at each other and try to forget that you had; when the long driveway of a large secluded home expands out above the car, Gaz whistles lowly.

“Bloody hell, Ma’am,” he states and John chuckles. You easily smile and roll your eyes.

“Trust me, it was more work than it was worth.” Ghost’s attention is slightly peaked.

“You worked on it?” His tone implies he doesn’t care, but his eyes gore into the mirror to lock with your own. Blinking in surprise, even the others seem to be taken aback by the man's lack of venom in his speech.

Ghost wasn’t afraid to speak his mind when he needed to, but he didn’t do mindless chatter. Your eyes cycle between the driveway and the masked Brit before you clear your throat. Johnny glances at you with a raised brow, slight confusion in his brows.

“Mostly—left the nasty bits to people more knowledgeable than I am, but I did most of the grunt work, eh?” Simon hums as the car pulls to a stop inside the garage, eyes not leaving the back of your head.

Your neck bristles at the sensation of unrelenting contact, but the burning that joins it is telltale. Licking your lips you twist the keys out and quickly shuffle out of the door to dispel the electricity in the air.

“Alright,” you say, “out. All of ya…Johnny, you’ll be helping me with the bedding.”

A groan is cut by an unimpressed glare. “...Yes, Ma’am.”

You huff and smirk.

“Trainin’ him well I see,” teasing John as they all file out of the car, he shakes his head at the two of you as Simon scoffs. Gaz openly laughs as Soap’s offended look grows.

You all enter the house as you direct them to the kitchen after they’ve taken off their boots and hung their jackets. “It’s all in the fridge, heat what you want, and don’t bother fightin’ Johnny if he takes too much. Tell me and I’ll make him sleep in the back near the chickens.” Your voice tells them as you pat your brother on the shoulder.

Johnny grumbles and kisses the top of your head. “You’re horrible to me,” He jokes but his eyes shimmer with affection. As you leave to get a head start on the rooms, you smile and call out to him.

“That’s my job!”

Backing out into the hallway, you leave with a deep well of happiness in you. You don’t even realize that the party had only contained three men instead of four until you’re in the linen closet and a shadow suddenly blacks out the light from the bulbs. Jumping slightly, your head swivels as you carry very many sheets and pillowcases in your grip.

“Oh,” you mumble through cotton, smile growing as the flip in your stomach does, “Ghost! Done eating already?”

The man is still and silent as he glances from your face to the sheets. Without a word, he halves the load and steals them as your jaw loosens in shock.

“Johnny’s outside callin’ your mum.” Ghost turns and walks out, but waits for you in the hallway to be directed.

You push down the tightness to your throat and see the man’s feet shift on the hardwood. He looks funny, such a big man carrying bed sheets. His actions make your heart speed up. Brown eyes blink at you like a cat.

“Well,” you chuckle, “always was one to get out of housework.” Trying a smidge more, you shift past him and turn off the light. “His barracks room dirty?”

“Pigsty.” Simon blandly states, walking slightly behind you. Your pace slows so you can stay beside him. He side-eyes you but says nothing.

Leaning in slightly, you quip as Ghost tenses, “Can’t say I’m surprised. The man’s used to me bailin’ him out.” Chuckling, you go into the first bedroom and put everything on the bed.

Simon grabs the pillows and starts to dress them quickly and efficiently.

“But thank you,” you say, and the Brit pauses to look up at you, something swirling in his murky gaze. Earnestly, you tilt your head with a smile. “Ya can go back and eat more if you want. No need to help—you’re a guest.”

“Not hungry,” is all he answers, and gets back to work. You watch for a moment, perplexed, but not at all about to deny the assistance. A genuine grin twitches your lips.

“Johnny writes about you, y’know,” your fingers pull at the fabric and you chuckle as Ghost’s incredulous look turns to you—face hidden but confusion is obviously seen. “Says he looks up to you quite a bit; something about Mexico.”

Your face dips slightly, and Simon’s body stills. Along the pillow, his grip carefully tightens. He can’t find it in himself to walk out of the door and stand outside even if he knows he should.

“I really can’t imagine what it’s like,” you mutter, shaking your head. Gazing at him, you study his wound muscles and secret flesh like a tapestry—wondering if he hides himself because of the safe anonymity or a sense of numb fear.

He wouldn’t admit to either, you know. But something about Simon had captured your attention and now you had a face, or just a body really, to put to the written name like a puzzle piece.

You take a long breath, “But you’ll never know how grateful I am.”

By the way his chest stops moving and his body goes frozen, you think you hit something inside of him; the minute widening of his eyelids like pedals opening in the light. Simon peers at your expression, his eyes sliding from one point to another.

Like he can’t really pinpoint what you want.

Ironic really, because you didn’t want anything.

“Don’t thank me,” is what he settles on, moving back to the pillow as if your words hadn’t stabbed him. “Johnny knows what he’s doing.”

Your small snort enters the air above the sliding sheets. “There’s no argument there.” A sigh echoes as you finish up, putting your hands on your hips. Across the bed, you two stare as Simon tosses down the pillows. The remainder of the sheets sit on the end of the bed.

The man’s eyes narrow on you, and he clenches his jaw under his balaclava.

“The only thing that I do know is that every time my brother comes back he smiles less than he did before.” You side-eye him seriously as you move. “I can only guess what all of it does to the others who don’t have anyone else to go back to.”

Simon’s breath halts in his chest before he finds the means to take down a slow inhale. Brown eyes glare intently, jaw tight, but it’s not the fire that gets to you…it’s the lack thereof.

Ghost doesn’t like this feeling, and your candidness was something he hadn’t expected.

“So,” you drawl, “I’m thanking you for giving him someone to joke around with—a distraction,” a teasing smirk, “no matter how blunt.”

“I just told you—”

“Well, I don’t bloody care, do I?” Huffing, you smirk and tip your head back before snatching the rest of the sheets. “C’mon, we have three more rooms.”

Simon watches you leave and tries to fight the rampage in his chest; the merciless slam of his heart to his ribcage. What had you done to him? A hand comes up and rubs into the bridge of his nose, fingers heavy and tight.

What in the hell was going on?

Growling under his breath, Ghost stalks out of the room only to see your back disappear into the next. In the hallway, he takes a long inhale and closes his eyes to steady himself.

“Fuckin’ hell,” the man grunts. The tension in his shoulders was plainly visible.

For the remainder of the room, Ghost would send you tight glances as he worked but didn’t utter another peep. You had taken his voice, or what little left of it there was.

In many ways, you were like your loudmouth brother—your snark and your stubbornness. But you were different too.

He feels his eyes trail down your form slowly from time to time. Capable; hardy. Simon blinked away and grunted under his breath aggressively.

When everyone was done with their food and Johnny had come back in from his call to his mother, with a soft smile on his face, you knew it was time for bed.

“Alright,” you strut into the kitchen with Ghost on your heels—his large arms crossed over his chest as he caught Soap's intense stare. The Lieutenant's brow raises, but Johnny only frowns in conspiracy before he looks over to you and itches at his chin. “Beds are made. You can all thank Simon for that, seein’ as Johnny used our mother as an excuse yet again.”

“And she was very pleased to hear from me!” Your brother points to you.

“She’s our mother,” you deadpan, “It’s her job to be, ya arse-face.”

The boys all follow you down the halls as you point to the rooms. Gaz shakes your hand again and gives you a tiny hug in thanks while John pats your shoulder and calls a soft, “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

Both close their doors and you hear the large sighs through the wood. You have to wonder when they’d had a good bed to sleep on and a good meal. Last was your brother and Ghost, the latter of which kisses your head and hugs you tightly.

“It’s good to see you, truly. Been missing you, little Hen. Thanks for lettin’ me over all the time when I’m home.” You melt and grip his shirt.

“You’ll always have a place here, you know that. One call away…Now go to sleep. You smell like a pub.” He lightly chuckles against you. With a bond this tight, the two of you never had to say that you loved each other—it was just known.

Johnny squeezes you one last time before pulling away and slinking into his room, giving an unrecognizable glance to Ghost on his way in before the barrier slips into place with a quiet thunk of wood. The two of you look at and stare for a moment.

“Lucky you,” your voice is quiet but easy to hear, “you get the room with a view of the field.”

“Color me surprised,” he mutters, not looking enthusiastic. Against the tone, the look makes your mouth jerk in a laugh, and you cover your lips after a moment.

Simon’s eyes unconsciously soften.

You wave a hand, chest light, “Let’s go then, you brute.”

“Brute?” Simon grumbles, “Gettin’ familiar?”

“Please,” you shake your head and walk to the last door in this section of the house. “You all became familiar the second we met.”

The man rolls his eyes but has his smirk hidden as you open the door for him. He tilts his head in thanks and strolls inside.

You hum, crossing your arms ahead of you and leaning on the doorframe as he looks around, “Don’t think too much over it… The baseline is, you’ll always have a bed here if you need it.”

Ghost slips out, “What are you? Bloody boarding house?” The swelling in his chest made his words harsher than intended, but you just smile cheekily at him as eyes lock.

“Hell’s bells, if you want ta’ get me a business card just go ahead and print ‘em off already. I’ve no problem with it.” He stares and you laugh, shrugging. “Makes me feel good.”

Splaying your hands, you back out.

“I know you probably won’t sleep,” Simon pauses, feeling caught but not showing it. “Libraries down the hall—if you smoke, use the back door. Kitchen is free game.”

“Why?” He asks and you blink, confused.

“Well, why not?” Simon glares.

“You shouldn’t trust people like that.” A loud laugh echoes and makes the man annoyed with you.

“Simon,” you say, and he finds himself hanging on every word that falls from your lips in the moonlight. “Not everyone is out to get you. If you’re friends of Johnny’s, then you’re friends of mine. That boy can sniff a cheat faster than a hound can find a hare.” Perhaps it was the way his shoulders went back at that, or how his brows loosened, but you finish off with a soft explanation. “You’re safe under this roof.”

You wondered, not for that last time that night, if he’d ever been told that. From how his balaclava moved with a sharp jerk of his jaw, you assumed never. It made your lungs hurt.

With a few more seconds of quiet gazing you nod and move back.

“Goodnight, Simon.” You leave him staring at the door as you close it—eyes boring into the grain so harshly they might catch fire.

Ghost doesn’t know how long he stays like that, but his ears twitch at the echo of running water and soundless footsteps. He should leave, he tells himself; this is dangerous, a voice hisses. It’s not safe here, how could it be? There were no guards—no weapons. If someone were to sneak in there wouldn’t be an alarm.

A secluded home. Nothing around.

Then why had your words seeped into him?

“You’re safe under this roof.” Simon closes his eyes harshly.

—

In the morning once everyone’s gone back to the base, you admit you don’t know if you’ll see Simon again; you probably won’t. But you find that you can live with that. The memory of his loosening tension is all you need to feel special in your own right. Those brown eyes that, if but for a moment, had bled so effortlessly feelings of something other than blood and death.

As you sigh a dreamy chuckle to yourself, you get ready for the day before heading to your Hillman. The silent drive to work joins with the strange mix of weight and levitation to your chest. But halfway into town, it hits you.

Silent.

There is an obvious lack of squeaking from under the hood of your car as you slide along the countryside.

The smile doesn’t leave your face for weeks.

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8K notes · View notes

cashmoneyyysstuff · 3 months

Note

HEAR ME OUT

“Don’t you think I’m scary?”

“Scary? My god you’re divine”

AHHHHH

FuskqosnisisbssbjHWISNSKSOAOAKWAJ 😭😭🤭🤭😋😋

I love two lovestruck idiots who don’t know they’re in love w each other and it’s grumpy German shepherd x golden retriever 😻😻

PLEAAASEE german shepherd x golden retriever is one of my faaavvv tropes OAT !! it’s so so adorable and especially with katsuki cus i know he just thinks he’s so scary ! i got a lil idea after the recent manga chap that just came out, so this might be a liiiiiittle super small spoiler but i think its so cute ! hope you enjoy anon tysm for the ask ! much luv xxx

fem reader, super duper minooor spoiler but katsuki has stitches !, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft katsu (cus he has to be but also cus he’s whipped) (but hes still a little piece of shit) reader is a lil sweetie, short lil fluffy fic, touchy katsuki bc i cannot help myself, lmk if i missed anything else !

before the war, bakugou had made a lot of new little habits.

he’s made it a habit of waiting for you to head out of class so you could walk together. he’s made it a habit of sharing just a portion of his lunch with you, because apparently he’s constantly been making too much, ignore the fact that he only let’s you have those ‘extra’s’ that doesn’t mean anything.

he’s made it a habit of carrying around an extra water bottle with him because you always forget to keep yourself hydrated after training, he’s also made it a habit to scold you for it endlessly. he’s ruthless even as you whine about how mean he is, saying that “he wouldn’t need to be on your ass so much if you just remembered to grab your damn bottle.” he ignores the fluffy feeling in his heart and tells you to shut up when you tell him that he always has your back anyway, swiftly looking away from you and cheeks turning red.

and since you're on the way to his house, he's made it a habit of walking you home. you call it hanging out after school, he calls it 'just making sure you don't get lost somehow..hah ?! don't ask me how ! your dumbass would probably find a way to !'

anyway, he's made it his mission to grace you with his presence every day after school. you always bid him a cheery goodbye, "see you tommorow !" you say, and he always looks forward to it, even when he turns away, nonchalantly throwing you a quick wave over his shoulder.

usually you wake up at completely different hours, so he doesn't pick you up the morning. you always wished you could see him first thing in the morning, but seeing him waiting by the school gate's was more than enough to make your heart soar, you were more than happy with that.

but today you can finally go back to school. after dealing with non stop fighting for what felt, and probably was, hours and hours on end during the events of the war. and being stuck in the hospital for a few weeks, it feels nice to wear your school uniform and feel somewhat normal again. you'd get to see all your friends again and you'd official be a second year. you smile softly to yourself in the mirror.

katsuki had sent you a text a few minutes ago. he'd asked if you were almost ready, and you'd responded that you were only for him to leave you on read. you didn't mind much and shrugged it off.

but today, when you walk out the door, you see katsuki waiting for you on the sidewalk.

you blink twice, eyes widening. katsuki turns and looks up from his phone screen at the sound of the door he also blinks, although he's more unbothered then you as he simply stands up, pushing himself off his knees with a groan "took you long enough." he drawls. his eyes are warm and his lip twitch just the slightest bit at your expression "thought you'd keep me waiting forever."

"katsuki !" you exclaim, eyes still wide "what're you doing here ?!" you quickly walk to him, standing close enough to see the marks on his face, and the unmistakable stitches on his cheek.

he raises a brow like you're crazy, tilting his head "m'walking you to school."

"bwuh-are you even allowed to go to school ?" you sputter, realising he had his school uniform on, you liked it when he started making it a habit of wearing his tie more often. katsuki grumbles at your worries "shouldn't you be in the hospital ?" he scoffs at your fretting, but his eyes soften as he leans in closer to you. you see his battle scars better that way. you gulp at the sudden proximity, he's never been shy about getting in people's faces, although it was never meant to be intimidating when he did it with you, if the pink tint of his cheeks meant anything.

"doc said it's fine as long as i keep quiet.." he scoffs after finishing the sentence, rolling his eyes and causing you to giggle. hearing the sound he hadn't heard in what felt like ages made him sniff in amusement. you reach for his hand then, and he doesn't take his eyes off you while intertwining his fingers with yours. both your eyes shining with longing and affection for the other. you smile brightly at him and even though the doctors had told him to be careful with his heart, it seemed you were gonna make that hard for him. it didn't matter though, he was always up for a challenge.

pulling him along, you decide to tease him "guess that means you're gonna have to be on your best behaviour today, huh ? so you can't go gettin' mad at kaminari for no reason !" you playfully scold.

he rolls his eyes at the mention of your friend, though he doesn't hold back his smirk, he's definitely more open then he was compared to when you'd first started school. thinking about how far you've come together makes you happy, but it also feels bittersweet. "dunce face s'the who keeps pissin' me off, not my fault he can't handle it." you snicker and he snorts in amusement, squeezing your hand and making butterflies squirm around in your stomach. you don't mention the tight grip he has on your hand, probably because you're gripping his just as tight with no intention of letting go anytime soon. you probably look like a couple to the people walking by, you realise. and the thought does not displease you at all, far from it. it makes you a little too happy.

"behave." you squeeze his hand.

"i do." he growls, squeezing back, "he keeps trying me." you respond with a snort. your eyes occasionally fly towards his face, to the stitches on it more specifically. he's caught you looking multiple times on the way to the bus stop, not like you were exactly being subtle. your stare makes him nervous and he decides to finally confront you about it when you get to the bus stop.

"spit it out." he says, hands clammy in your grip, he hopes and prays you don't notice because it's so unbearably embarrassing to have to admit he was worried about what you'd think about his new look. he'd been anxious on your doorstep but you didn't give him much of a reaction, too shocked to even see him at the time, but your constant shifty glances made all the anxiety crawl back up again. so he speaks, keeping these distracting and frankly irritating thoughts to himself just irritated him.

you blink, humming curiously. katsuki grumbles to himself, keeping his eyes from yours. "ya keep staring at me, so what's up ?"

"it's strange seeing you with stitches." you answer bluntly. usually, he likes how honest you are, but right now it does nothing but stress him out. "i heard you messed your face up pretty bad, but i'm glad it didn't leave too much of a nasty scar." you muse. katsuki hums but his eyebrows furrow as he catches your last words, he's a little pissed off that you'd heard about what happened during the war. he'd wanted you to know as little as possible to keep from worrying you, or at the very least he'd wanted to tell you himself. he'll make sure to thoroughly question his fuckass friends later. of course, it also could've been her.

"..how'd you-"

"your mom told me."

he grunts. of course, it was his mom.

that damn hag..

"of course." he mutters bitterly. you don't respond, and to him that's all the answer he needs. a pit settles in his stomach.

"yeah, it's weird, isn't it ?" he agrees bitterly, unconsciously tightnening his grip on your hand. "it looks kinda creepy, right ?"

"what do you mean ?" his jaw tightens " i mean..like, on my face..." he sputter and mutters to himself, unable to properly say what he wants. you understand him though and immediately you turn till your face to face with him. your expression determined as you grab his other hand, both of his scarred hands now in your grip. his eyes widen in shock, embarrassment creeping up on him.

"there's nothing wrong with your face, katsu." you reassure, you'd made it a habit of calling him all those stupidly endearing nicknames, and it doesn't help taming the blush on his face slowly bleeding onto his cheeks. he pouts, fixing his gaze onto you and towards the floor.

"but doesn't it look..i dunno," he mutters, suddenly feeling self conscious "scary ?"

"scary ?" you tilt your head, he squints and looks away.

"i guess." he grunts with a nod, trying to save face. obviously it doesn't work by the look on yours. you're always so bubbly and sweet, he hates seeing such a pained expression on your face. you tug at his arms to get him to look at you "scary ? there's nothing scary about you.." you say sweetly, shaking your head. "i personally think you look really cool.." you mutter. katsuki feels his face heat, but his heart soars nonetheless. his eyes have been stuck wide for a second.

cool.

you think he looks cool.

"i was just wondering if they hurt ?" he tilts his head back in thought at that. instictively running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"nah, just felt weird when they were numbing it. but i didn't feel a thing." he shrugs, he suddenly smirks, the stitches being pulled up by the movement "wanna touch em ?" he teases, pulling you closer by the grip he still has on your hands. your eyebrows shoot to your hairline and he barks out a laugh.

"i-i can't do that ! what if i touch them and they come loose or something !" katsuki rolls his eyes at your jittering, using the hand still in his grip to bring it near his cheek, you desperately pull back and his evil smirk widens.

"katsuki, no !" you protest. he cackles meanly.

"it's fine." he insists, your pointer finger grazes his cheek and you turn your head away.

"i don't wanna !" you shake your head, your shoulders shaking as you hold back a giggle.

"yn. you're fine." he insists. he'd made it a habit of calling you by your first name after you'd started hanging out more. you called most of your friends by their first names pretty quickly into the year, your cheeriness making it easy for you to get along with everyone but you always were a little on guard with katsuki at first. he'll never admit it, but he was a little jealous that you'd call everyone in your shared friend group by their first name except for him. the sweet bubbly tone in your voice when you called for sero or kirishima made a nasty feeling bubble up in the pits of his stomach he'd desperately tried to push away. until one day he'd snapped during your group outing at the mall (outing he was coerced into going to by kirishima after finding out you where going too)

he'd regretted how whiney and bitter he sounded at the time, but he thinks it was worth it every time you'd look at him and say his name so sweetly, definitely worth it, as embarrassing as it was. and he'd started calling you by your first name too shortly after. all your friends do, but it felt so, so different with him.

finally your fingers make contact with the staples on his cheek. you peek up to look at him then. you run your fingers across them ever so softly, making sure not to hurt him. katsuki slowly let's go of your hand. unmoving and unnervingly still as you take your time scanning his face.

"so ?" he raises a brow, smirk slowly melting into a softer smile as he sees you smile to yourself.

"it's..not bad.." you tentatively start, still too worried to move too suddenly. he hums playfully. "and you don't feel it at all ?" you ask

"at all." he softly shakes his head. you don't realise you've gotten closer to his face but he sure has, and you end up realizing a little too late, but neither of you move away. you try to, but katsuki pulls you back in before you can get far. "do i still look cool up close ?" he jests, but there's some seriousness and vulnerability in his gaze. you smile warmly.

"yup," you say softly, you hear katsuki inhale sharpy, eyes never leaving yours "definitely still the coolest. not scary at all" you giggle, he rolls his eyes but chuckles. before you can question your positition or move away (or closer) to him you see the bus arriving in the distance. he notices it too and you share a look before you take a step back, smiling shyly at the floor while he keeps his gaze on the bus on the way.

until—

"OW, fuck !!"

your eyes snap up to see katsuki holding his cheek in his hand, your heart hammers and your eyes widen. you're next to him in two steps. "what, what—why-what happened ??!" you stammer, your hands reaching up to grab ahold of his face though you stutter, maybe it was your fault ?!

until—katsuki bursts out laughing. mean, but undeniably cute watery cackles that have you furrowing your brows in confusion until your jaw drops in realization.

the. asshole.

"you're not funny !" you whine, pushing at his arm although pushing might be the overstatement of the century. it could be more comparable to a nudge because even though he is an asshole, you wouldn't want to hurt him. even if he deserves it, you're better than that. you'll just think about hurting him.

katsuk chuckles breathelessly, grabbing your arm while you walk closer and stretch your arm out to signal the bus to stop. "it was funny, admit it !"

"you suck. you're the worst." scanning your bus ticket and walking ahead ignoring him, katsuki quickly scans his ticket and follows diligently behind you.

"you thought it was hilarious." he smirks.

"the absolute worst, the lowest of the low." you huff, ignoring the persistant heat of his eyes on you. he only snickers.

"i see you laughing."

today, you arrive to school with katsuki not at the school gates waiting for you, but walking together with you to start your new school year as second years. and you both hope you can make a habit out of this.

#thanks for the ask anon!#it was super fun to write and a fun way to come back from break !#bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo fluff #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki x y/n #bakugou drabble #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n

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rafecameroninterlude · 3 months

Note

Rafe visiting sweetheart pogue reader after knowing her better at her little bake shop she works at and they get to talking and she confesses its her absolute dream to open and run her own bake shop and he buys her a little cute shack to start her business off !!! 💕💕

warnings: super sweet fluff, sexual tension that rafe has to force himself not to act on

a/n: this came out longer than i wanted it to, but i loveeee writing for pogue!sweetheart!reader so much, pls send reqs for her if you’d like <3

it was a rather slow day at the icecream shop, so when you heard that little ding! indicating that someone had walked in, you were more than happy to see none other than rafe. “hey!” you chirped, adjusting the pink apron that currently hugged your waist.

“are you the only one working?” he walked up to the counter, your bright smile making his heart beat wildly in his chest. “yeah..” you trailed off, looking over to your manager’s office, “maybe i could ask for a quick break so we could talk?” rafe nodded. “i’d like that.”

he waited until you disappeared before he flipped the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and turned the small lock on the door, so you two could converse without any interruptions. “okay!” you walked back up front. “favorite flavor?” rafe’s mind went blank as you reached for something, your skirt riding up your thighs as you did so.

“uhm- uh, rocky road is good.” you finally grasped the cups you were looking for, beaming at rafe’s response. “i love that one, too! but strawberry cheesecake has been my go to for a while now.” rafe didn’t want to make it obvious that he was staring hard, but he found that it was rather difficult when you were around him.

he couldn’t wrap his head around how someone so sweet and bubbly and charming as you are, could also be so unintentionally sexy at the same time. “rafe?” you snapped him out of his trance, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “here we are.” you walked around the counter, placing the cups of icecream down on a nearby table.

you reached behind you as rafe took a seat, your nails not allowing you to untie the knot you made in the strings of your apron. “what’s wrong?” he looked up at you in confusion. “my apron is a little stuck..” you turned, backing up until you stood been his legs. “can you untie this for me please? i just got my nails done and i did it a bit too tight.”

rafe was going insane. here you were in a mini skirt, potentially giving him a full view of everything that was underneath as you coyly waited for him to ‘help you out’. “sure, yeah-” he cleared his throat, hands coming up to fiddle with the strings that stopped just above the curves of your ass.

once he had it off, you sighed, taking the seat across from him. “where are you coming from?” rafe was still flustered when you took your spoon in your mouth, his eyes following the way your lips wrapped around the damned thing. “work, actually.” he blinked away, zeroing in all his focus elsewhere.

“really? what do you do?” now it was your turn to watch him, the veins on his arms making you lick your lips. “construction. it’s my dad’s business.” you nodded, trying to push the image of rafe all hot and sweaty from working outside, out of your head. “so you’re a handy man?” you teased, unintentionally tapping your foot against his leg.

“i know my way around.” you caught rafe looking at your lips, a shy smile taking over your feautures. “i wish i had those skills, it’d make things so much easier for me.” you raised your eyebrows. “how so?” he leaned forward. “well.. it might sound dumb, but it’s my dream to open my own little bakery. the problem is; i don’t know where to start, i don’t know who i have to get in contact with for licensing and permit stuff, and i definitely don’t know how to install any kind of kitchen appliances.”

rafe thought for a moment.

“do you have a certain location in mind?” he asked. you hummed, shaking your head. “no, i don’t care where it is. i’d just like a bigger space.” rafe nodded. “that doesn’t sound dumb by the way,” you looked up, “i think it’s neat that you want to open up your own business. the entire island will be over the moon once they find out they can get those chocolate chip cookies whenever they want.”

you had never shared that information with anyone, but by the way rafe responded, you were glad it was him that you spilled it to. rafe saw the small flash of sadness pass through your eyes before you shook it off. “one day..” just as you were about to check the time, your manager walk out of her office. “closing shop early today, do you mind helping me out real quick?” without hesitation, you got up from your seat.

“wait for me?” you gave rafe your icecream and apron to go outside with.

“of course.”

over the next two weeks, you found yourself by rafe’s side, whether he was following you around while you made sales, or helping you bake, you two seemed to be attached at the hip. “are you working tomorrow?” rafe currently sat on the floor of your camper, leaning against the lace-trimmed cushions of your pull out couch. “nope!” you offered him a spoon of buttercream to taste test, watching as he took his digit in his mouth.

“goddamn, that’s amazing,” rafe gave you a thumbs up, “but anyways— i was asking because i have a surprise for you.” placing the bowl of frosting on the counter, you turned. “oh?” you sat down, his head resting against the side of your knee. “i think you’ll really like it.” rafe kept his eyes down in his lap. “can i guess what it is?” he shook his head, “i won’t tell you if you’re right or wrong.”

sighing in defeat, you and rafe spent the rest of the night decorating cookies and taking turns shuffling songs until he was ready to head back home. “i’ll be here to pick you up in the morning, ‘that sound okay?” he was leaning against your doorframe, your fingertips itching to reach out for him. “mhmm, thank you for all your help today..” you stepped closer, swallowing thickly as he rested a hand in the curve of your neck.

even though rafe wanted to kiss you and feel your lips on his, he settled for a peck on your temple, which you were more than happy to receive. “goodnight, y/n.” he waved before getting in his truck and driving away. locking the door shut, you couldn’t help the pout that graced your lips at your now empty, quiet, camper.

eager to know what rafe wanted to surprise you with, you were quick to get ready for bed, forcing yourself to go to sleep before having to wake up and get ready.

“promise you’re not peeking?” you giggled, your hands resting on top of rafe’s as he guided you to some unknown location. “i promise!” finally, rafe came to a stop, a shiver running down your spine at the feeling of his body pressing against your backside.

“okay, go ahead and open.” you were buzzing with excitement, your mouth falling agape once your vision cleared. there, in front of you sat a perfect little shack, the word ‘sold’ on a red banner adorning the front. you blinked, slightly confused. “this is so cute! did you buy it or something?” rafe nodded, his mouth falling to your ear.

“it’s yours.”

you took a minute to process his words, letting go of a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. “rafe..” he placed his hands on your shoulders, turning you around. “a couple weeks ago you said it was your dream to have your own bakery but you didn’t know where to start, this is your starting point.” your eyes were watering now as you looked up at the man in front of you.

“i don’t think i can accept this.” you laughed, butterflies swarming your tummy when rafe wiped your tears. “you can, and you will.” you couldn’t hold back anymore, throwing your arms around him. rafe wasn’t used to this feeling in his chest, but he knew it felt right.

“it still needs to be renovated, but i talked to my dad and he agreed cameron development will cover everything.” you pulled away, dumbfounded. “i- why?” rafe’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. “why not? you deserve it.” sniffling, you looked back at the shack, already envisioning the place up and running. “i can’t thank you enough, rafe.” you couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe that rafe, let alone anyone, would do something like this for you.

“we’ll get to that later,” he winked, making you laugh, “should we go pick out a paint color?”

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gutsby · 8 months

Text

Trigger Tease(r)

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Before his morning briefing, your mob boss husband decides to take a pit stop in the sauna with you.

Warnings: 18+. Oral (f!receiving). Gentle fingerfucking. Praise and degradation. Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Bucky talking you through it. Bimbofication if you squint.

Notes: @sluttylittlewaistenthusiast - you inspired me 🪽 I just had to crank out a little teaser for the third installment of Wedded Bliss. I hope y’all like it 💓

Full version here

In between breakfast and the start of your husband’s early briefing, you found yourself situated in much the same way you’d been spending a lot of time these days: pinned up against the wall of a wood-paneled sauna, Bucky’s broad shoulders supporting both of your legs as he buried his face deep between your thighs. You sighed.

“Hold still,” Bucky grunted, voice muffled as he tried to keep your slick, squirming body in place above him.

You yelped and seized a fistful of his hair when he wedged his tongue even further inside you, nudging your clit with his nose almost too teasingly and deliberate.

“I can’t…help it,” you bit back, ignoring the brief glare you earned from your husband as soon as you said it, “Your tongue’s just so— s— James!”

This time, Bucky let out a full-throated groan when you yanked on those poor wet locks of his—‘Gonna make me bald by next Christmas if you keep doin’ that, honey’—and he pried his head from your legs just long enough to knock you flat on the sauna bench close by.

The western red cedar seared hot on your skin, already flushed from the exhaustion wrought by Bucky’s tongue; you hardly had the strength to hold yourself up when he pushed you onto your back and crawled over your body.

“How ‘bout my fingers, doll? Can you take a couple’a those for me?” Bucky crooned above you as he stroked your hair, bathed in pure sunlight pouring in from the windows. His voice was a touch more sympathetic now.

After all, this was your third orgasm of the morning. It really wasn’t fair for him to use that biological weapon of mass destruction he liked to call his tongue when he knew how sensitive your clit would get from just one ‘O’. Even his hands might be too much in your current state.

Bucky was busy peppering your skin with kisses, working his way from the base of your neck to the crown of your head, when you whimpered and tried to fight a smile.

“Finger,” you corrected him, “Just one finger, Barnes.”

You would’ve thought you’d just thrown your wedding ring in his face and told him to eat shit. Just one?

“How’s one finger s’posed to stretch you out for my cock, huh? Practically had you screamin’ when I stuck it in last night,” Bucky wasn’t one to hide his amusement, grinning even bigger when you swatted him on the arm.

“Who said anything about your cock?” You tried to keep cool as Bucky’s fingers trailed right back down to the place you felt yourself throbbing, aching for his touch, “You have a meeting in ten minutes.”

“Meeting doesn’t start until I say so, my love,” Bucky reminded you just as his index ghosted over your folds.

In truth, he was willing to play this game any way, and for however long, you wanted it done, so long as he was the one bringing you pleasure. Be that his cock, his finger, or all fucking five on one hand, Bucky just wanted to get you off. It was better sustenance to him than the whole damn meal the two of you had eaten that morning.

Bucky kept it down to one digit and lightly circled your bundle of nerves when he sensed you were ready.

You gripped his forearm and shot a quick look between your legs, still in disbelief as to how he could make you feel this good so soon after you’d cum twice before. You felt his lips drift over to yours and steal a few kisses.

“Always doin’ so good for me,” Bucky praised, moving his finger in circles. When you whined against his mouth, he pressed it even harder, “Such a good girl for daddy.”

“James,” you breathed, clenching your legs together.

“Everything OK?”

“Uh-huh.”

More than OK, in fact. That delectable coil of sweet, euphoric release was already swelling gently in your tummy. Bucky moved his finger even faster.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmured low in your ear.

Bucky loved seeing you try to articulate your feelings—relatively fresh and new to your world, still—while he was giving you pleasure. Adored the way you winced and whined and arched your back into his touch as a whole blustering hailstorm of sensations crashed over you.

He sank his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you, as if trying to extract the words from between your lips. Your response, in consequence, came somewhat stifled.

“Mm— feels so, oh—” Your voice broke off in a moan when Bucky tightened his circles, “—so good, daddy.”

“Wanna show daddy how good and cum for me?”

Bucky knew by the way you were whimpering under his hand that the tendril in your stomach had almost tripled in size. It wouldn’t take much to tip you over the edge.

“My sweet girl,” he said, rubbing your cunt at the same time he was stroking the back of your head, gently, “Feels so nice down there, doesn’t it?”

You rolled your hips against the bench and nodded. Your breaths were short and ragged, panting helplessly into Bucky’s mouth when he adjusted his hand just a little: pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit, with his index moving down to your entrance. Pushing inside you.

“Another,” you choked, not thinking.

Bucky met your desperate gaze and nodded, knowing this was exactly what you needed to make it over the precipice.

Still, he wouldn’t be Bucky if he didn’t tease just a bit.

“I thought my wife wanted one finger,” he hummed, brow pinching inward.

“No, no.” You could’ve shrieked when he curled the digit, “Want more— Bucky, please, please, I need more.”

Again, your husband appeared to nod in understanding, but his fingers didn’t budge. He worked his thumb a little faster and watched you writhe on the seat beneath him.

“How many, honey? Don’t wanna hurt my baby.” His words were all kindness, it seemed, but his tone laced with shameless condescension—the kind that said, yes, I know you need this, and no, I won’t indulge you just yet. Bucky was the worst when he wanted to prove a point. You could’ve ripped at his clothes and torn them in two if you weren’t both stark naked and shrouded in steam.

You opted to pull at his hair instead.

Bucky winced, but the smirk never left.

“I said how many?” he pressed again.

“Three. Four.” Fuck if you knew.

Your husband raised both eyebrows and hummed, a single finger still plunging in and out of your cunt in quick succession. He teased the tip of another at your entrance and smiled even more when you whined.

“Needy little thing, isn’t she?”

“Bucky—”

“Just wants to fuck daddy’s hand to get herself off, hm?”

Bucky didn’t bother to mask his sweet, degrading tone any longer as he talked down and teased you to no end. It drove him half-insane to see you squirm around, rut your hips, let him say the filthiest fucking words he could conjure up, and just bob your head to whatever he said. His impeccant wife and her insatiable needs—Bucky couldn’t even begin to express how turned on the sheer dichotomy got him. He stared in your eyes, all glossy and soft, and felt his cock stand even more rigid on his belly.

He didn’t give a shit if he’d taunted you enough or not; he just shoved his middle and ring fingers alongside the first and clenched his jaw to start fucking you hard with all three.

Your whole face contorted with pleasure, tinged with the faintest shade of discomfort at the tail end of it. You’d forgotten how big his fingers felt all together.

“Bucky,” you whined, mindlessly clawing at the wrist that was moving back and forth, fast, between your legs, “B-Baby, slow— slow down a little.”

But Bucky was deep in the zone. He knew you wanted it too—sensed that you liked to play it safe when it came to your pleasure and grew a little timid at times it got to feel too much—and he needed to talk you through it.

Rather than turn his head and keep to himself as he got you up to your peak, Bucky pressed his face down to yours and nodded again—this time with a tender sincerity.

“Feel a little stretch down there, huh?”

You didn’t have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Bucky kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his fingers wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,

“That’s daddy’s sweet, needy little slut.”

“My perfect fucking wife, so good at taking my fingers.”

“Gonna be nice and stretched out for my cock, hm?”

Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but that’s exactly how Bucky wanted you. Exactly how you needed to be, bucking your hips in time with the cadence of his fingers fucking inside you, and soon, those whimpers were turning to moans as that soft little helix inside you reached its breaking point.

Bucky brushed once or twice more against your sensitive spot, and suddenly you were coming undone all over him—crying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his wrist you feared you might snap it in two, and then getting kissed again, over and over while Bucky drank in your every sound, and the few tears that sprung to your eyes as they always did, like sweet nectar.

You were still moaning, curling your tongue feebly against his own and leaning into him as far as you could, when your husband slipped three fingers up between your mouths and pushed them past your parted lips.

“Suck,” Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he watched you, “C’mere, honey, taste your cunt on my fingers.”

You took him in and sucked your arousal off his fingers just like he asked. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his hand, where your juices had no doubt collected too.

That slutty, fucked-out look you gave him—like your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm he’d given you—was everything Bucky could’ve wanted.

He climbed on top of you and took the base of his cock, rock-hard and weeping tears of precum from the tip, almost drunk from the feeling himself. His mouth hung open as he dragged himself over the seam of your cunt.

“I need to fuck you.”

Taglist (STILL HAVE TO UPDATE THIS I'M DUMB AS SHIT): @vicmc624, @she-could-never, @mcira, @kentokaze, @identity2212, @unaxv, @buchi91, @ordelixx, @stinkerbelle007, @opibarnes, @wilsons-striped-ties, @desigirlxx, @pono-pura-vida, @geminiflanagansblog, @fandomsfeminismandme, @buggy14, @sky-full-0f-fl0wers, @buckysdoll1520, @armystay89, @minimarvelingmarvel, @kunakizen, @ghostiebby06, @blackhawkfanatic, @dameron-grant-spector, @sushiseoks, @deansapplepie, @mrsjoequinn, @lunaroserites, @first-edition, @kaybaby2494, @jaggedsi, @excusememrbarnes, @daisychainsoflove, @mostlymarvelgirl, @diannana, @shawnberry, @yujyujj, @urmomsalex, @mrs-bucky-barnes-73, @athenabarnes, @christinabae, @wintrsoldrluvr, @bethbunnyy, @i-heart-smut @dixsond

#THE TITLE WILL MAKE SENSE LATER I PROMISE #it’s ‘tease’ not ‘teaser’ in the full fic that was just my attempt at humor #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #mcu #mob bucky barnes #marvel smut #marvel x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mob boss bucky #mob!bucky

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wildgirllz · 4 months

Note

I'm not sure if you are familiar with the "mating press" position, but the little horny voice inside my head says that Tommy would absolutely love it. Just imagine reader having her legs on his shoulders while he pins her down to the bed because he needed to let off steam. Of course, this is completely consensual! Reader is willingly helping her husband out like the sweet housewife she is <3 Would you be up to write something like that? Sorry for being so disgustingly horny about him... (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

Omg i love this request!! HAPPY 1K MY BEAUTIES!!!

Mating press with Tommy <3

Warnings: unprotected sex, SIZE KINK OML (I'm sorry I couldn't help myself) pnv, afab reader, he cums inside because he's a loving husband, overall just porn with a little plot

It was a sunny day, the warm Texan breeze on your shoulders as you washed dishes from breakfast. A hefty pile of dishes, Tommy was not a small man to feed. As the warm water eroded the bacon grease from your castiron, you heard some stomping from the yard. You smile, you can imagine how he was looking at that very moment; his mask covering half of his sweaty face, hair stuck to his forehead, shoulders wide and casting a big shadow over whatever he was blocking. His tall frame was delicious, his arms, his hands that held the majority of your torso already made you hot on the back of your neck.

Lost in a trance of your thoughts, you feel the warm water over your hands' sudden absence. You don't need to turn your head to identify the reason. You can already hear his little huffs behind his mask and his big meaty hands pawing at your hips.

“I missed you, Tommy.” You turn and raise your arms to place your hands on his broad chest. His fingers fidget with the red trim of your sundress, one of his favorites. “You like my dress honey? I like this one too, I wear it to ensure you stay grateful for this pretty little wife you got.” You giggle and cover his hands with your own, but only manage to shade a finger or two.

“I made you pie again Tommy, peach crumble! It's right on the counter. Lemme cut you a slice.” You smile warmly before turning to walk to the countertop to your right, but you don't manage. Tommys' hands are glued to your hips, keeping you grounded like a statue on the floor. “You don't want pie, baby?” You ask, sweetly of course. You knew Tommy wasn’t focused on your pie right now, you knew from the second you heard his feet shuffling outside that he had some steam he needed to release, and you’d be damned before you said you didn't want him to take it out on you.

You look up at his lust-filled eyes and reach to untie his sweaty mask. You didn't like that he always felt he had to cover himself up, but you understood it brought more comfort to his everyday life. As the mask fell, you could hear his shaky breaths practically calling for you. You got up on your tiptoes and pursed your lips, so he reciprocated, bending his head downward and capturing you in a warm, desperate kiss.

His hands on your hips lifted your body off of the ground, unconsciously, making your face line up with his. You wrap your legs around his waist, not making it all the way, but you were stable as his hands moved down to cup your ass. You whimper into his mouth, grinding your little hips against his big tummy, and running your fingers through his messy hair.

He lets out a single huff before turning on his heels and taking you to the bedroom. After storming through the doorway, he tosses your body onto your’ neatly made bed and begins to undress. You take his cue and do the same, unzipping your flowy dress and slipping off your white panties. Leaning back in your bed, you take in Tommys' body, how the veins in his hands bulge as he unbuttons his shirt, and how tight his pants look on his thick thighs.

Once he's fully bare, he slowly stalks around the bed, looking you up and down like a piece of meat he’s longing to devour. Suddenly, he yanks you down by the ankles, making you lay flat on the bed. He pushes himself to his knees at the end of the bed, settled between your now parted legs. He shuffles forward a bit, then pulls you by the knees until your legs wrap around his hips.

He bends forward, towering over your frame. He takes your legs and pulls your feet over each one of his shoulders. Your thighs are pressed to your stomach as he settles an arm on both sides of your head. His hair falls around your face, and you reach up to kiss his pretty pink lips. You feel his girth slipping over your slit, and you reach your hand down to press his throbbing cock to your little bud. He groans at the touch of your hand and you begin to rock your hips back and forth, covering his length with your slick.

Not long after, he begins to rock his hips against yours in tandem. His forehead touches yours and you can feel his warm breaths covering your face. On one of his slower thrusts, the tip of his cock caught on the rim of your hole, making you take a sharp breath in. Tommy looks at you to make sure you’re okay, then slowly slides his fat member into you without warning.

“Tommy! Jesus, baby slow down.” You whimper out. The intrusion makes your lips quiver and hands grip the sheets, so he takes your arms in one of his hands and moves them to wrap around his neck, immediately latching onto his hair. As he settles his hefty body on top of yours, his tummy pressing down tightly on yours, he pushes even further forward, trying to get as deep as possible.

Your moans turn into choked-out groans as he slowly pounds into you. Your toes curling and heels digging into his damp back. He lets out deep groans and uses his hand to wipe hair from your face. He cups your cheek and kisses you, a distraction from the ache of your stretched hole, struggling to accept his large cock.

His thrusts pick up in pace, and he buries his face into your neck. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and he maneuvers your body to slam down on his cock in time with his thrusts. In a state of complete cock-drunk bliss, you struggle to let out a whine as you feel your peak approaching. Rolling your eyes back, you grip his hair between your fingers and give it a little tug, before feeling the warmth of your orgasm explode through your body in ripples of pleasure.

Your back arches and your legs shake, the feeling of your pussy clenching over his length makes him whimper, and his thrusts become fast and shallow. You whine at the feeling of him abusing your overstimulated warmth, and Tommy leans down to bury his face in your breasts and grips your hips almost bruisingly in his hands, quickly reaching his orgasm himself.

He wraps his arms around your back and pulls you as close to him as possible before letting out one more deep thrust and filling you to the brim with his seed. He groans and flips over on his back, taking you with him. You lay over his body, feeling his cock softening inside you as his spend drips out. You both catch your breath and relax, his hands rubbing gently over your back.

You close your eyes and let the cool air of night take you both to sleep.

feel free to leave requests! (get FILTHY.) <3

#thomas hewitt x reader #slasher x reader #slashers x you #thomas hewitt smut #thomas hewitt x you #slasher fucker #slasher x you #slasher smut #thomas hewitt x y/n #tommy hewitt x reader #leatherface x reader #leatherface smut

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planetxiao · 2 months

Text

# HAPPINESS FOR TWO

𖤐 umemiya hajime ; suo hayato ; sakura haruka x reader

⟢ fluff, scenarios // when their friends realized you’re good for each other.

𖤐 UMEMIYA HAJIME

Damn it all.

Hiragi wasn’t sure how, but he managed to make it home without realizing he didn’t have his antacid tablets on him. He checked – double checked – each of his pockets, but alas, they were gone. He sighed. There was only one place he thought it could be: back on the rooftop of Furin High.

He wasn’t usually forgetful, but it had been a long day, he supposed. That unnecessarily big fight took a lot out of him.

It was like any other day, another leader of a gang demanding to fight Umemiya, except this guy was too persistent about it. In fact, all of his men seemed to have been of one mind. In the end, Umemiya gave him the fight he wanted. Of course, the white haired Bofurin leader reigned victorious, but he didn’t leave the fight unscathed. No one did. That being said, everyone was fine; they just left with minor cuts, scrapes, and bruises.

A meeting on the rooftop was held after the fight, each captain and vice captain giving their report before leaving for the day. That was when he must’ve set them down.

Hiragi trudged all the way back to Furin High, stomach turning at the possibility of getting roped into Umemiya’s antics again – if he was still there, anyway. The sun was about to set, and all of that day’s teams were on their last patrol shift.

He had half a mind to kick down the door in irritation, but he resigned to pushing it open. With his hands stuffed in his pockets, Hiragi’s eyes peeled this way and that to look for the very guy whose mere mention gave him indigestion in the first place.

Left, clear. Right, clear. A breath of relief… let out too soon.

Hiragi took one step before freezing. Sat at the picnic table about 15 feet away was Umemiya and someone he recognized to be his partner.

Hiragi had seen you a couple times before. You would come to bring Umemiya lunch from time to time, and he would show you all of the plants he was growing in return. He really didn’t know anything about you but your name, nor did he ever feel the need to know more than that.

That was probably his fifth time seeing you. You both straddled the bench, facing each other, with your legs pulled over Umemiya’s. His hands rested on your hips as you gently wiped a cotton pad over the scratches on his face. Umemiya gazed at you with eyes that held nothing but love in them and a smile so easily made, like that of a dreamer stuck within his fantasies.

“Hajime, how many times have I asked you to be careful?” You sighed.

He laughed bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck, “Sorry, Sorry! I tried, I really did!”

You applied a large bandage to the cut on Umemiya’s cheek, shaking your head lightly.

“I know. I just worry about you.”

“I know, my love,” He cupped your face, “But, it’s okay. I’m okay! You don’t need to worry, I’ll always come back to you, okay?”

It was almost picturesque, the way you melted together like chocolate under the setting sun. Your forehead rested against his while he interlocked his fingers with yours. Hiragi felt bad watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes.

You giggled, “That was so cheesy, you dork.”

“What?! I thought it was romantic!”

He would rather eat his own shoe than admit this to anyone, but Hiragi smiled at the sight of Umemiya holding his world in the palm of his hands. He seemed to have found his true other half, someone that understood and cared for him in the way Umemiya deserved.

The creak of the rooftop door closing was heard by both you and Umemiya, the only sign that Hiragi was ever there.

He’d come back for those tablets later.

𖤐 SUO HAYATO

Shouts bellowed down the street, drawing a crowd. It’s not unnecessarily unusual for a fight to break out there, but the people of the town watch as if it was the first time. Onlookers lined the walls of the narrow street close to the action.

Sakura and Nirei had been walking to meet up with Suo on their day off. They agreed to meet outside of Kotoha’s cafe at noon, but Sakura and Nirei were running late. As for why, well, Nirei had to take the time to go all the way to Sakura’s apartment and wake him up because he had overslept. Let’s just say Nirei had a rather stressful morning.

The fast shuffling of feet caught Sakura’s attention. He quirked a brow, looking up from his shoes to see a group of people in the distance. Some of them had been sent flying back in different directions, piquing Sakura’s curiosity.

What the hell? There’s a fight right now?

The itch of annoyance Sakura felt from that morning had him rearing to go. Nirei gulped. However, a comment from one of the onlookers was what sent them running towards the crowd.

“Hey, isn’t that eyepatch guy from Bofurin?”

Suo was in it?

They pushed through the crowd to see for themselves. Sure enough, they recognized the tassel earrings whipping in the air before they could even see their friend’s face. From the look of it, there weren’t that many foes left, and he had someone fighting alongside him.

You and Suo were back to back, taking one guy after another. Your movements mirrored each other as if watching a master and student. While your actions were more limited and practiced, Suo’s refined moves looked purely instinctual. He drew in his opponents with a mere look and had them on their backs within seconds. It was a violent dance that you both had invited your foes to.

Sakura and Nirei watched in shock, seeing these men drop like flies. It was ridiculous, this wasn’t a fight. There was no struggle from both sides, only one.

There were only two left, and Suo seemed to sense foul play heading in your direction. The sun gleamed off the metal bat that reeled back in front of you. You gasped. You weren’t used to fighting against weapons. Hell, you weren’t even that used to fighting in general. The guy smirked, swinging as hard as he could. But, the path of the bat was abruptly stopped as Suo flew through the air, swiftly kicking the guy in the face. The metal bat hit the ground with a clang, the owner flying back into a wall before crumbling onto the ground.

Suo’s venomous gaze lingered for a second on the man who sought to hurt you, though another one charged at him from behind. You called out his name – a warning hot on your lips. Suo took notice of the impending presence, but before he could turn and deal with the person, the crisp sound of a fist connecting with skin rang in his ears. Suo looked back, seeing the guy unconscious on the ground with most likely a broken nose.

Cheers erupted in the street, praising Suo and his partner in taking down the brutes. Sakura stuffed his hands in his pockets with a huff, while Nirei beamed at the two of you.

“Wow! I wonder who that person is. Do you know, Sakura?”

“No idea.”

As Nirei was about to approach them, he watched Suo take your hand in his and examine your bleeding knuckles.

You laughed bashfully and shrugged, “I improvised.”

Suo smiled softly, raising his other hand to caress your burning cheek.

“You did well, my dear.”

Oh! Oh.

Nirei whipped his head back to Sakura, about to shout about how Suo had a secret romantic partner, but stopped when he saw Sakura’s wide eyed blush. When Nirei turned back around, he saw Suo leading you into Kotoha’s cafe with a hand on the small of your back. Your head nestled in the crook of his neck.

The blond couldn’t help the way his lips curled. He ran after the two, pulling out his small notebook. That was the first time he had seen you, but he could tell you were special to Suo and he to you. You two made one hell of a good team. A scary one, but good nonetheless.

He just hoped he and Sakura would never do anything to piss you off.

𖤐 SAKURA HARUKA

Nirei was pacing.

“Where could he be? He’s never disappeared for this long before. One day, sure. But three? Something’s wrong. I just know it.”

Suo placed a hand on Nirei’s shoulder, a friendly smile remaining on his face. He understood that Nirei worried about Sakura as much if not more than anyone else at Furin High, but biting his nails over the issue wasn’t going to fix it. Ever the voice of reason, Suo spoke calmly to his friend.

“Relax, Nire-kun. The last time Sakura was gone, he was sick in his home, right?”

Nirei looked up at Suo, concern furrowing his brow.

“That’s the thing. I checked his apartment yesterday and he wasn’t there.”

Suo hummed. An interesting turn of events. He doubted that Sakura would just up and disappear – he could’ve just been out when Nirei came around. There’s an explanation for everything, after all. Sakura’s strong, it’s not likely he was kidnapped or anything of the sort. He was probably just sick again. Even so, it wouldn’t be good if Sakura was ill and wandering around…

“I see. Then why don’t we check one more time?”

Nirei nodded and turned on his heel, making a bee-line out of the classroom with Suo following behind.

Nirei kept a brisk pace. He was always at least three steps ahead of Suo, who kept his normal pace. It was Suo’s second time coming up on the desolate complex. The scenery was less surprising this time around, but the tattered place was eerie all the same.

They knocked once, twice, thrice, receiving no answer each time. Suo’s hand grasped the knob, remembering how it was unlocked last time they came to check on Sakura, and turned it. The door opened with a ghostly creak, no sign of life anywhere in the room. Suo called for Sakura. Still no answer.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” Suo murmured, deja vu creeping over him.

Nirei followed. Suo slid the door to the main room open and was greeted by nothing, Sakura’s futon rolled away haphazardly in the corner. Not even his uniform hung where it was last time. Nirei began to wring his hands. Where the hell could Sakura have gone?

“Huh, he’s still not here,” Suo wondered aloud before turning to his worried friend, “Have you tried asking his partner if they’ve seen him?”

“No, I don’t have any way to contact them.”

The brown haired boy had an inkling that he knew where Sakura might be.

That was how they wound up on your doorstep after the sun had set. They had seen you quite a few times, even coming with Sakura to see you once or twice. Sakura had told them each time not to come, but of course his friends were curious about his partner. Suo would insist, while Nirei would just follow.

Like earlier, they knocked on the door and awaited a response. If he wasn’t here, Nirei was going to lose his mind.

The knob turned. Nirei didn’t waste a second.

“Hello, sorry for the bother, but have you seen-”

A hand covered his mouth, surprising him. When he looked up at you with wide eyes, you simply held your finger over your mouth, signaling him to keep quiet. Suo peered through the door behind you and understood.

Surrounded by various medicine bottles and a tissue box laid Sakura, sound asleep. His monochromatic hair splayed in different directions, twirled together in some spots like yin and yang. Nirei and Suo could see his reddened nose and cheeks from where they stood at the door. All tell tale signs of Suo’s confirmed suspicion. Taking one last peek, Suo and Nirei chuckled at Sakura’s sleeping form, a trickle of drool peeking from the corner of his ajar mouth.

You stepped outside with the two boys, closing the door behind you.

“Sorry Nirei, I didn’t want him to wake up. What’s going on?”

“Has Sakura been here for the past three days?” Nirei asked.

You nodded.

“He started feeling sick while he was here a couple days ago, so I’ve been taking care of him. He’s doing better though, his fever finally broke just before you came actually. Should be up and moving by tomorrow.”

Nirei breathed a sigh of relief. Sakura was fine, he could finally relax his tense shoulders. Suo’s usual kind smile melted into something softer after hearing your explanation. An unspoken thought was shared between the two boys as they glanced at each other. The heavy feeling of deja vu had dissipated because something was different this time.

Thank god Sakura has you.

note: i’m actually pretty happy with how these turned out :D also in suo’s, if not implied well, he taught you those moves :3 i hope their characterizations are all okay!!

#wind breaker x reader #umemiya hajime x reader #umemiya x reader #suo hayato x reader #suo x reader #sakura haruka x reader #sakura x reader

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rhysazriel · 2 months

Text

Smoke & Light: Part 2 [Plug!Az]

SUMMARY: Azriel hasn’t been able to get you out of his head, and when you agree to smoke with him and go for a drive, truths aren’t the only things that are shared. (6.6k)

WARNINGS: lots to unpack tbh, so let’s start with swearing, (male) masturbation, teasing, flirting, kissing (!!!!!), mentions of abusive families, reoccurring themes of use of recreational drugs (weed), Az driving while smoking/stoned (I do not condone that so please do not do that in real life!!)

A/N: firstly, thank you so incredibly much for all of the love on part one, I’m so excited to share what I have planned for this series!! This part is longer than the first, so maybe grab a drink and a snack hehe

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Why don’t we give the brownies idea a try?”

Azriel’s head felt like it may explode. For the past two hours, he’d been stuck in a discussion between his brothers regarding new ideas for new products to sell. And while Az and Rhys had no ideas to suggest (all agreeing cocaine, molly and ket were not up for discussion), Cassian was still hellbent on making weed brownies—despite knowing not a damn thing about baking.

“Cass,” Rhys sighed, pinching sharply at the bridge of his nose. Azriel was going to lose his shit, he couldn’t go through this again—for a fifth fucking time. “We literally spoke about this last week! None of us know how to bake!”

Cassian paid no mind to Rhysand’s clear frustrations with him and scoffed as he threw his head back on the couch. “It can’t be that fucking hard.”

“Then by all means, buy your own shit and burn it while you try and figure it out.”

Azriel blinked, looking between the pair. He’d barely said a word, too worried he may get a bit too heated. Cassian got like this sometimes—most of the time—and more often than not, Az got the idea he only did it to get a reaction out of Rhys, who had very little patience when it came to him.

Someone had to play mediator and devil’s advocate in every situation, and somehow, even since they were teens, that role always landed on Azriel’s shoulders.

Deciding enough was enough, he leant forward and peered between them both. “As much as edibles would help out sales, Rhys is right,” Cassian snickered at him, “It’s not a good idea right now. Not when we have no clue what we’re doing, and especially not when we’re having problems with our supplier right now.”

It was silent in the room for a moment, for the first time in an hour. And after a few minutes passed and no one spoke, Rhys stood from the couch with a sigh. “I’ve gotta get going to the parlour. All my sketches are there and I’ve got a long day and a huge back piece to tattoo tomorrow.”

He clapped a hand against both Az and Cassian’s shoulders before bidding them a goodbye and leaving. Cassian remained sulking on the couch, thick and toned arms crossed on his chest with an unsatisfied scowl on his face. Azriel took purchase on the coffee table in front of him, lips pursed to suppress his amusement.

Cassian often got like this if he was told no or something didn’t go his way. When they were younger, Azriel used to roll his eyes and tell him to get over it. But now, in their mid-twenties and Cassian sharing a striking resemblance to that hunky character from that one Disney movie, Azriel found his sulking the best form of entertainment.

“Are you not working tonight?” Az broke the silence with a lighthearted question. As much as he found his brothers face amusing, he didn’t really have the energy to deal with it all fucking night. He had shit to do, people to see. And he didn’t particularly want to bring Cassian along to his drop off’s—not when Cass scared the shit out of most people.

“Club’s closed, waiting for Nes to finish. Staying at hers tonight,” he mumbled.

Relief was quick to flow through Azriel’s blood as he let out a breath. His phone chimed from his back pocket as he said, “Tell her I say hi,” and a gentle smile tugged at the corners of Cassian’s mouth.

Az and Nesta had a decent friendship, he was closer to her than he was Feyre, but maybe that was because Nesta didn’t tiptoe around Az like most other people did. Maybe that was why he liked you so much. You didn’t shy under his gaze, and you didn’t treat him differently after noticing his scarred hands.

Yes, he saw you watching, inspecting with hurt and curious eyes. But you didn’t say anything so neither did he. And when you purposely brushed your skin against his when you took that bag of bud, he knew you’d done it out of silent reassurance.

And yet, he hadn’t heard from you since you met three days ago. Not that he expected you to message so soon, not after you said the 3.5 would last around two weeks, but he still felt that deep disappointment whenever he checked his phone and your name wasn’t the one to have messaged him.

He needed to get a grip on himself, really. But you were different. So different from anyone he’d ever met or known before. You didn’t play up to any facade, you didn’t hesitate to tease him back. You were honest, painfully so when you admitted you were clueless, but that only made him find you even more endearing.

“What about you?” Cassian’s voice drilled into his ears, abruptly pulling Azriel away from the memory of you. He quickly typed back a reply to a client that he could drop off within the hour and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

“What about me?” Az asked.

“Any plans?”

Azriel shrugged, elbows leaning on his spread thighs and the oak coffee table creaked beneath his firm weight. “I’ve got a few deals to do, but that’s about it.”

Cass nodded, finally unfolding his arms and letting them drop to his sides. “Well, you know where I’ll be if you wanna come by, Nes would be happy to see you.”

Azriel raised a brow. “I saw her two days ago.”

His brother gave him a look, one that suggested ‘yeah, I know, but you’re like her best friend and she loves you to literal death’, and that was that.

Cass left soon after, picking Nesta up from work and leaving Azriel home alone for what seemed like the thousandth night in a row. He didn’t mind it, not really. He enjoyed his own company and when Cass stayed at Nesta’s and Rhys stayed at Feyre’s, it meant Az could play around with new melodies and not be scolded for playing guitar at 4 a.m. and waking everybody up.

Having the apartment to himself was a win-win for everyone involved.

Only tonight, he didn’t want to sit and play with new sounds and rhythms. Not when his mind was completely distracted by you. By your smile, your eyes, by that sensual voice of yours that he hadn’t stopped replaying in his memory for the past three days.

It wouldn’t hurt to send just one text, right? Just the one, just to check in on how you were finding the bud. As if you hadn't smoked it before they met.

He shouldn’t. This wasn’t what he did—he didn’t chase after girls, he never had, and he most certainly did not get hooked—especially not on someone he’d known for three days.

And yet, despite that, Azriel found himself on your messages, hovering his fingers over the keyboard and typing out a quick text and sending it before he could even think about it.

Azriel: how’s the bud?

But it wasn’t his lack of thinking before sending the message that had his jaw slack, no. It was the fact that as soon as the message travelled from the box to the messaging thread, you had already opened it. Like you were already on the chat. Perhaps debating your own text to him.

Those grey bubbles appeared at the bottom of the screen and Azriel made quick work to click out of the conversation. His heart should not have been stammering in his chest the way it was, he should not have felt so anxious about what you may think if he read your text as quickly as you read his.

You: very good. And you were right. 7 joints!

And then, another.

You: I may need a top up sooner than i thought, if that’s ok?

Azriel: what happened to it lasting you 2 weeks?? Nah, that’s fine. Did you wanna meet up tonight?

You: would that be ok?

Azriel: yes. Old tower in 20?

You: life saver <3 see u then!

He tried his damned hardest not to stare at the little heart you sent him, tried his best not to picture you thinking about texting him to meet up again. But all he tried, it didn’t work and a smirk began to tug at the corners of his mouth.

His Ford Mustang parked outside the Old Tower fifteen minutes later, the engine still humming softly and his eyes flitted between the rearview mirror and his view in front of him, trying to gauge which way you’d come from.

He didn’t expect for you to come out of the shadows in a third direction, one in the wake of the passengers side, and he didn’t realise until the door opened and you slid your body inside his car, shutting the door behind you.

“Hi,” you turned to him with a beaming smile—eyes gently blazed with a moody pink hue.

Azriel drank you in. Your hair was down today in what he presumed was your natural waves, face bare of makeup save for the sheen of pinky lip gloss that coated your mouth. You wore an oversized cropped olive cardigan; the large buttons done up just enough to offer a slither of a peek of the white bralette you wore beneath, and a pair of straight-legged black cargos.

Gods, you looked even better than he remembered, but Azriel wasn’t naive to your staring either. Your eyes caught notice of his thick, muscled arms. They weren’t hidden beneath a jacket this time. No. They bulged from the black t-shirt he wore, and his brown skin was etched in intricate swirls and shapes and designs in black ink.

You gulped, visibly so. Tattoos had always been an immediate attraction for you—not that Brandon ever had any—but the sight of Azriels and the one that hid beneath the sleeve of his top and curled up and around his neck… Gods, your throat felt extremely dry.

And Azriel noticed everything.

“I thought you said you didn’t smoke much?”

Your eyes finally snapped to his hazel ones and warmth coated your cheeks and chest. You cleared your throat, blinking a few times to regain some sense of composure. “I don’t,” you retorted. “Girls night. And it was my turn to host.”

Azriel tried not to think too deeply into the idea of you having a night at home with your girlfriends, stoned and warm and cosy and all inhibitions thrown out the window. He wondered if those were the types of things you did with your friends. He’d been with a few before that did.

He looked away as soon as he felt that familiar tightening in his jeans. “So, you want another 3.5?” He cleared his throat, lifting the compartment between your seats.

You hummed, eyes following his movements. Your gaze lingered on his biceps for a moment, trailing down to the veins that protruded from his smooth skin. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. Oftentimes than not, you found yourself horny and riled up when under the influence, but never like this. Never so strongly at the sight of two veiny, tattooed arms.

“Um, yeah… please.” You finally spoke. “I promise it’ll last me longer than three days this time.”

Azriel prayed to the fucking mother above that it didn’t. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he retrieved a 3.5 baggie and handed it to you, closing the compartment again and the second he opened his mouth to speak, you were already grabbing a marred hand and shoving two twenty’s into it before forcing his fist closed.

Perhaps it was the buzz of the joint you smoked on your way, or perhaps it was the pure arousal you felt at the sight of him and the feel of his hand in yours that gave you a surge of confidence. Whatever it was, it had you saying, “Pretty clients might get a discount from you, but incredibly attractive, tattooed plugs get full pay from me.”

Azriel was stunned for a moment, by both your boldness and the shameless compliment. His mouth blubbered open, a retort just as flirty as yours on the tip of his tongue when the sound of his ringtone blaring through the car’s bluetooth speaker cut him off.

He disconnected the call a bit too quickly, an amused smile teetering on the curves of your already twisted lips. Azriel paid no mind to his own actions, instead turning back to you with a fire in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

His lips parted in another attempt to speak when that gods-dammed phone interrupted him for a second time and you could no longer hold your laughter. Azriel decided there and then that the next time he saw you, he’d make sure he heard that sweetness again.

You didn’t give him time to cut the call off again. Instead, you reached for the door handle and offered a grateful smile. “I’ll text you when I’m out.”

His senses were too on overdrive. Too torn between wanting to stop you, even if to spend a few more moments in your presence, and the deafening sound of his fucking phone. But you’d exited the car and closed the door behind you before he could do anything about it. The cash was still stuffed in his warm hands and the incoming call continued to make his ears bleed.

“What?” Azriel seethed the second he answered the call. It was silent for a moment, the caller caught off guard by Az’s tone but that only pissed him off further.

“It’s Brandon,” the line paused for a moment again. “You about?”

Azriel felt his blood boil. “If I don’t fucking answer the first time, that usually means no.”

He disconnected the call without another word, marred hands now gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white. He hated the way he was reacting over you—over being interrupted from your presence. But he couldn't help it. Couldn’t get the thought out of his head of how sweet your lips probably tasted with that gloss. And without it.

Azriel’s chest heaved slightly, that all too familiar sense of arousal tightening in his pants. He couldn’t stand this, couldn't understand how a tiny slip of your bralette could have his mind and body reacting like this. How a subtle smirk and a sultry gaze could have him ready to blow a load in his pants.

Christ, he needed to sort himself out. Absent-mindedly, Azriel snuck a hand between his thighs, large scarred hand palming at his length through the fabrics. His breathing turned quicker, his moments growing needier. If he didn’t sort himself out soon he’d been in agony.

With one hand on the wheel, he forced himself to drive—only for a moment or two until his Mustang was parked idly between two buildings and switched off the engine to not draw too much attention to himself.

He was above this—above getting himself off semi-publicly. But he couldn’t fucking help it. He didn’t care how shameful and icky he might’ve felt afterwards, not when he was so desperate.

As soon as the car was covered in shadows of darkness, he unclasped his seatbelt and unpopped the buttons of his jeans. He didn’t bother to pull them down, only releasing the zip and reaching into his boxers to tug his length free.

The second he felt his skin on him, he shuddered. His slender fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, offering himself a teasing squeeze as he slowly moved. Azriel didn’t need lube or lotion—not when pearly beads of semi-translucent arousal leaked from his pink, ruddy tip. He smoothed it down his length, mewling at the contact he rewarded himself.

And all he could think about was you.

Your eyes, your lips, your voice.

He let his mind wander to sinful images of what may lay hidden beneath your clothes—beneath that little white bralette. Azriel quickened his pace as his eyes fluttered closed, the back of his head hitting the headrest. He throbbed in his hand, a gruff moan tearing from his throat.

Azriel could picture you clearly in his head; on your knees in the footwell, your dainty hands around his cock as your lips kissed and sucked him. His hand in your hair, bobbing you on his length, watching your eyes water from the size of him as he hit the back of your throat.

His breathing grew ragged, filthy images of your choking on his cock filling his brain, clouding his sensing and coaxing a release out of him. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever come so quickly before in his life, but the idea of you looking up at him with sultry eyes through thick lashes had him spurting warm ribbons of cum into his hand as he cupped his head to minimise the mess. A desperate attempt to replicate what he imagined the warmth of your mouth would feel like.

As his breathing began to even out, the post-nut clarity hit him like a ton of fucking bricks. Shame boiled in his blood, a tint of pink embarrassment painted on his cheeks as if the shadows judged him, too. The idea of seeing you again while knowing what he’d done to the thought of you… it made his insides churn slightly.

But more than that, it made his cock leap again in anticipation of soon being in your presence once more.

“Az, what do you say? Up for a double date?”

Feyre couldn’t hide her smile, unable to keep her emotions in check when it came to her attempts to set Azriel up. But the instant disappearance of his smile wasn’t missed on her. Nor was the way his shoulders tensed slightly.

He sighed. “Fey, as much as I appreciate your concern for my love life, I don’t need to be set up.”

She pouted at him. Despite that always being his answer, she still held a shred of hope every time she suggested it. Even if he never changed his mind, she was willing to continuously try, even if he did find it annoying. Even if she didn’t tell him until the very last minute.

“Who’s the lucky girl then, Az?” Nesta piped up with a wide grin from her seat in the couch, tucked closely into Cassian’s side who paid no mind to the conversation at hand.

He rolled his eyes at her. “There is no girl.”

“Guy, then.” Nesta scoffed, waving a hand.

Azriel didn’t want to entertain this conversation, especially not because it had somehow brought his mind back to you. Something he’d been so desperately trying to avoid.

Though, he supposed it was inevitable. He would be seeing you again at some point and then he’d be stuck right back where he started. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure why he was doing this to himself— why he didn’t allow himself to pursue you if that was what he truly wanted.

His phone chimed from his pocket.

In hindsight, it was probably a good thing that Azriel didn’t hear from you for two weeks. It gave him ample time to attempt to get his hormones in check, but it didn’t stop his blood from warming everytime he received a notification. Each time, he was left with slight disappointment to find it was just another client.

Until today. Until now. Where your name was in fact the one on his lockscreen and all of that forgetting and willing to get you out of his mind faltered.

You: Hey, are you free later?

Azriel: I'm free all night.

When you didn’t respond, Azriel assumed you were looking for a more direct answer. So he sent another text.

Azriel: old tower in an hour good for you?

You: see you then.

He couldn’t help the frown that furrowed in his brows at your reply. Given, your only communication was mainly through text, and perhaps he was looking too much into it, but you didn't seem yourself. And that thought shouldn’t have irked him as much as it did.

He barely bid anyone a goodbye, throwing a mumbled ‘see you later’ as he grabbed his shit and left.

His first stop was to Sean, a lean Asian guy that had been buying off Azriel for two years now. He was decent enough, never tried to haggle or complain about the prices. They shared a mutual respect and minimal words were shared when Az handed him a Q and Sean gave 140 in one swift motion.

And just like that, Azirel moved onto the next.

And then another.

And another.

Until he was waiting at the Old Tower and watching your silhouette approach the Mustang. You entered the car just like you always had done, though you didn’t meet his gaze this time. Instead, you kept your line of view ahead. Your hair obstructed the side of your face, effectively shielding you from his prying eyes.

“Sorry I’m a little late.”

Azriel absolutely did not like the quake in your voice as you spoke, nor did he like the way you seemed to cower into your body and clothes. Clothes that didn’t seem to match your usual vibe—instead, the mismatched black sweatpants and bright pink puffer jacket gave off the impression you threw on whatever was around you.

Somehow, Azriel still thought you made it look good. On you, the outfit looked both planned and effortless. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that that wasn’t the case.

“You good?” he asked through the piercing silence.

You hummed, twisting the bulky silver ring on your thumb. “Yeah, just tired.” You tried your hardest to offer a convincing smile as you turned to him, but Azriel noticed the way it didn’t meet your eyes—the eyes that appeared slightly bloodshot, though he had a suspicion it wasn’t from smoking.

Not wanting to press on the matter, Az opened the compartment and pulled out a baggie of your usual amount and kept it pinched between two scarred fingers. You reached for it, the cash in your other hand but he kept his grip tight.

Azriel raised a brow. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

You could see the concern flood his hazel eyes, and the sight pulled on your aching heartstrings. How could someone who was a virtual stranger care more for you than the ones who were much closer in your life?

You didn’t trust your words, so you nodded and he finally released his hold on the bag. “Alright,” Az sighed. “It’s a different strain than my usual stuff, so go a little lighter with it. It’s pretty strong.”

You were incredibly thankful for the warning, though you couldn’t help feeling a little offended. Did he really think you were so naive and new to this world that you couldn’t handle a new strain at your usual strength (which, admittedly, was very weak) without greening out?

But as quickly as that feeling rose, it faded. He was a dealer, afterall, and he couldn’t afford to lose business all because someone thought they knew better and had a bad trip.

“Thank you,” you muttered out, already reaching for the handle when his ruggedly soft voice stopped you.

“You wanna smoke before you go? I can drop you back after.”

You whipped your head to him, blinking through slightly blurred vision. With a brow raised and widened eyes, your lips parted. “Together?”

A smile stretched across his full lips, one so full of charisma and keen interest that it awakened something deep in the pit of your stomach. Something you distinctly remember feeling the last time you saw him.

“Why not?”

You swallowed as your hand slowly fell from the handle and made its way back in your lap. Your smile morphed into a smirk that matched his and the air shifted into something unreadable. Something palpable but not quite real.

“Really? Do you normally smoke with your clients?”

Azriel’s wicked grin widened. “I do with the cute ones.”

You choked on a laugh, rolling your head back until it hit the headrest and Azriel didn’t think he’d ever seen or heard anything so fucking beautiful in his life. That laugh would haunt him in his dreams to a blissful paradise.

“First, I’m pretty. Now I’m cute… what’s next?”

Damn the rules he set himself. Damn the restrictions he forced when it came to someone who piqued his interest. It was about time Azriel took what he wanted for once. Even if that meant he started with no longer feeling guilty for flirting with you.

Chewing at the inside of his cheek, Azriel started up the engine and shifted the gearstick. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

He tilted his head to the dashboard compartment and you pulled it open. The small warm white light lit the cove, a golden hue casting on a small yellow tin. Throwing a glance to Azriel, he nodded and you pulled it out, closing the compartment and popping open his travel tin.

It was packed with perfectly rolled joints and blunts. The smell was strong—potent—but you didn’t mind. Not as much as you had before. You picked one random of the bunch and pinched it between two fingers. It was rolled tightly and packed full, a very small twist of paper at the end and you hummed, impressed.

Of course he could roll perfectly. And you had a feeling just two pulls of one of those would keep you warm and fuzzy for the remainder of the night.

“There’s a lighter in the cup holder.” Azriel spoke as he pulled out of the space and began to drive further out of the lights of the city.

You pinched the lighter. Just a simple black one, no funky pattern or engraved initials like most others had. No, Azriel’s was one that came in a pack of five and the other four were somewhere in the car or back at his apartment.

“We can smoke in here?” you asked softly, that crack in your voice easing.

Az hummed, taking a right turn. “If you’re comfortable to.”

You waited a moment, eyeing the joint and then him. “You drive when you smoke?”

He seemed to notice your somewhat apprehension when he nodded again. He turned to you briefly before flicking his eyes back on the road again. “I drive better when I’m stoned. But if you’d prefer, we can park up somewhere.”

You shook your head, warmth caressing every inch of your body. You didn’t know what it was, but something had overcome you. An overwhelming sense of pure yearning. You could admit when you first met Az that he was attractive, incredibly so. But now? Watching him, speaking with him, smoking with him… oh God’s… you had a fucking crush on your plug.

“You wanna start it or should I?” Azriel’s voice broke you from your epiphany and you blinked quickly, willing the rising heat to just fuck off and give you a moments reprive.

“Oh,” you squeaked. “You can, it’s your weed.”

He didn’t look away from the road, not for a second. With a hand on the wheel and the other shifting gears, he edged his head closer to yours and angled his face just slightly with his lips parted. You were stunned for a moment, realising what he was asking you to do, and you swallowed back that bubbling arousal as you placed the unlit joint to his lips and sparked up a flame, igniting the end.

Az hummed in thanks as he took a long, deep drag. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was a fucking sight. Cheeks ever so slightly hollowed and eyes barely squinted as the smoke filled his lungs.

A scarred hand left the gearstick to reach for the joint, his thumb reaching for the bottom while his forefinger grazed the top and he pulled it away with another fresh intake of breath, settling the drug further.

You were soaked, you were sure of it. Your previous problems from today were a distant memory as you finally watched him exhale and bring the joint to his lips again for another long pull.

The sound of the windows opening broke you from your trance and only then did you realise you hadn’t yet put on your seatbelt. You tore your gaze away to clip yourself in and when you turned back, Azriel was offering you the joint.

With your free hand, you accepted it, the other stuffing the cash in his cup holder with the lighter. You inspected the joint, tried not to let your heart race. You’d only ever smoked with your friends and Brandon. Never with a dealer. Never with someone like Azriel.

You slotted your pursed lips over the same area Az did, and inhaled as deeply as you could. The burn at the back of your throat was stronger than when you smoked your own joints, and as it filled your lungs you pulled it away and held back a cough that gagged to release from your throat.

With a shaky exhale, you swallowed around the dryness of your mouth before bringing it back to your lips for another drag. When you pulled it away, the burn wasn’t as bad and you passed it back to Azriel who took another turn on the roads.

“Where are we going?” You pondered, a certain rasp to your voice from the strength of the joint.

Azriel took two short pulls and angled the burning end out the window, flicking off the excess ash before offering it to you again.

“Wherever you want,” he replied. “But first, we should probably get some food for when the munchies kick in.”

You laughed as you exhaled another breath and handed the joint back to him, waving a hand to signal you were tapping out and did not intend on smoking anymore. Five pulls of that shit was more than enough for you. You could not handle the idea of greening out in his car with him.

Azriel stifled a laugh and finished off the rest of the joint by the time he pulled into a drive-thru. He placed his order first, turning to you with flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. You blinked a few times, your brain requiring a few moments to catch up with what was happening.

“I’ll have the same as you.”

He stifled a laugh as he spoke into the machine, doubling up on his order and driving through to the next window. Azriel paid no mind to you when you attempted to offer him your money—barely even looked at you as he tapped his card against the reader and then reached for the cash in the cup holder, shoving it back in your empty palms.

“You can keep that, too.”

You knew it wasn’t up for discussion, so you begrudgingly took your cash back and stuffed it into your jacket pocket again. Az stopped in the parking lot, the two of you eating through hushed yet uncontrollable giggles at the people that passed by.

It was the first time you’d heard his laugh so unrestricted and it spread another shot of warmth through your body. It continued like that for another undisturbed hour, where after the food, Az sparked up another joint and began the drive to your apartment. You’d told him Old Tower was fine, but he wasn’t okay with that.

“Too many freaks around at this time of night. I’ll drop you to your door. Put your address in the GPS.”

And it wasn’t until the drive back to your apartment that you were reminded of your previous troubles. The ones that caused your teary eyes and sombre mood. The buzz off the night felt like it had dwindled away the second you thought of your situation, and you were left slumped in your seat again, fiddling with your fingers.

Azriel noticed your change in mood almost immediately as he glanced over to you before flicking his eyes back to the road. He took another drag of the joint.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You pondered his offer for a few moments, weighing out whether or not you should. In the end, what difference would it make? If you divulge your issues or not, it wouldn’t fix them. But perhaps talking about it might help.

“My sister got married yesterday and no one told me.”

Azriel blinked rapidly, almost spluttering on the breath he exhaled. “What?”

“Yeah.”

He waited patiently, eager for some sort of explanation as to how and why something like that was kept from you. But he didn’t know the relationship with your family, he couldn’t presume anything. For all he knew, you had troubles just like his.

“My family and I didn’t have the best relationship growing up. I was born from a toxic relationship so I was cast aside as a kid, I guess. I thought we were past that, though. I thought things were better.”

That familiar ache sat heavy in Azriel’s chest. He knew all too well the hurt that came from being shunned by your own family. He wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. Especially not somebody like you.

“I’m sorry.” His words held such compassion and sympathy. No pity, just pure understanding.

You blinked back the tears, not wanting to show just how much it had all affected you. But it was no use. A single drop slipped down your cheek and as quickly as it fell, you wiped it away.

You were agitated now, extremely so. “I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend, Az.”

“Why would they do that?”

There was a pause. And then, “because her now husband was my first everything.”

You waited for the statement to settle into the thick night air. Your first kiss, first boyfriend, first time. First love. Azriel could understand even more now just how much it hurt you. And the fact they kept it a secret? Even your family knew what they did was wrong.

“I’m so sorry, that’s truly fucked. But you know, families suck sometimes. I only speak to my mom.”

“Oh?” You hadn’t realised you were even on your street until he parked right outside your apartment and flicked on his hazards.

Azriel flicked the but of the smoke out the window and held out his hands, showcasing the marred flesh and patchy skin. “My half brothers did this to me when I was eight. They didn’t like that our mom had me with another man before she had them. They said that my bastard blood tainted the family, so they wanted to taint me.”

Azriel had absolutely no fucking idea why he was divulging such an intimate and traumatic part of himself. But he made no attempt to hide or sugarcoat any of the truth. Especially not when he looked up from his hands and caught sight of your face.

Salty tears silvered the linings of your eyes at the truth of what had happened to him. Bile crept up your throat and hatred for his family formed. Eight years old. You felt sick.

“Az… I’m so sorry. That’s… I can’t even…”

But Azriel waved it off with a gentle smile. “It’s awful, sure. But I’m fine. I wouldn’t have met Cass and Rhys if that didn’t happen. They may be my found family, but they’re my brothers. Blood doesn't mean shit to me.

A single tear slipped down your warm cheek, staining the skin in its wake. Azriel reached out to wipe it away, his touch gentle and soft and yet all-consuming. Your gaze met in a flickering glance of hazy eyes and fluttering lashes.

And then next thing you knew, your lips were on his.

Azriel was quick to kiss you back; moulding his plump lips around yours as his large palms cupped the sides of your face. He was sweet on your mouth, a hint of salt from his fries and he swiped his tongue across the seam of your lips, you almost imploded.

Azriel was no better. The second he got a taste, he was a starved man. Your tongues met in needy strokes and Az had never tasted anything like you before. Sweet like the watermelon lip gloss you wore, and a tang of smoke that haunted your mouth.

He was hooked, desperately fucking hooked. Your own hands reached up to hold his wrists in hopes of keeping his touch on you. Azriel kissed you deeper, licking across your teeth before settling even deeper in your mouth.

It was needy and messy and every unspoken word of desire was poured into that kiss, your touch. He could stay like that forever, kissing you, tasting you. Azriel could feel himself stretching in his pants, and from the almost inaudible whimper that strained from the back of your throat, he was certain you were just as needy between your own thighs.

The thought spurred him on, as it did you. Your hands trailed down his forearms to his biceps, feeling at the muscle that tensed beneath your touch, until your arms were wrapping around his neck and he was pulling you closer over the centre console.

Azriel kept a palm caressing your jaw while the other snaked to the side of your neck, his long fingers weaving through the hair at your nape and blunt fingernails scratching at your scalp.

In your drug and lust filled haze, Azriel was shifting in his seat. You let one arm leave his body to reach for your seatbelt, planning to unbuckle it and crawl into his lap for a deeper, richer taste of him.

But the second the safety belt was released, the blaring sound of an incoming call through the car's speaker jolted you both apart. It was then, and only then, that the gravity of the situation finally sunk in.

His eyes were glazed over with something you’d never seen on him before, his lips even plumper and smeared with your gloss. You didn’t look much better. Only your eyes were wider than his and your hair had been a lot more dishevelled.

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the insistent ringing of his phone jarring your eardrums. For the fourth time tonight, warmth settled over you again but in the form of embarrassment. He confided in you about a trauma so deep, and you’d kissed him.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised breathlessly.

Too caught up in your own fear and anxiety of what you’d done, you missed the way Azriel’s brows furrowed. His confusion quickly turned into panic when the thought settled in that perhaps you had regretted it. That even though you kissed him, perhaps you felt he had pressured you.

And that made him sick to his stomach.

Before Azriel could utter a single word, your hand was on the door handle and you were pushing it open. “I’m sorry, I should go.”

You climbed out of the car as you uttered another apology, and slapped the door shut without so much as offering him another glance. The incoming call died to voicemail but Az couldn’t take his eyes off your empty seat, couldn’t get the taste of you off his tongue, the feel of your lips off his.

Frustration grew at himself. Azriel turned forward in his seat, nostrils flared and teeth grit. He’d fucked it. He’d gone and fucked it entirely. His open palm smacked against the wheel before gripping it tightly, taking a moment to compose himself.

He looked over at your seat again.

Despite the lack of your physical presence, you were still there. In scent and touch and taste.

Azriel was fucking done for.

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