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nanamiscocksleeve · 13 days ago

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LADS Men With a Plus Size Reader

Warnings: None! This is actually very fluffy! Maybe PG13 at most! (OMG NCS, no smut?!😲😲😲) A/N: Finally, got around to writing one of the promised headcanons! Now, allow me to be clear here. The amount of customization the game allows is incredible but MC is a little bit on the smaller side, and I would have loved to see an option for a more robust body build. The same way there are naturally thin and petite women, there are also bigger and more rounded women as well and I think there was an opportunity lost there. Anyone that tries to hate on this will be blocked immediately.

Zayne:

Zayne’s large hand envelopes yours as you walk to the cafe he’d recommended. You knew it was popular amongst the hospital staff and weren’t surprised to see familiar faces; one of the tables was completely occupied by some of Zayne’s surgical nurses.

“Why don’t you get a table?” Zayne brushes a kiss on top of your hair. “And I’ll get the food. Do you still want a hazelnut latte with your cake?”

“Yes please!” Zayne’s eyes fill with warmth as he squeezes your hand before walking towards the cashier. You wander over and pick a table near the nurses. You take out your phone and start to browse Instagram when a snide voice is heard from the table behind you.

“Gross.”

You freeze but don’t dare turn around. Maybe it wasn’t directed at you.

“That’s Dr. Zayne’s girlfriend?”

Shit it was.

“Why is he with that porker?”

“You’d think a man like that would have better taste.”

“I heard that they were childhood friends. He’s probably dating her out of pity.”

Even as your blood rages, you feel tears pricking the backs of your eyes. Were they aware you could hear them? And they had just said your worst fears out loud; that Zayne was dating you as a favor, not because he was actually into you. It was an old insecurity you hadn’t really grown out of. You startle slightly as Zayne suddenly sits down opposite you, food and beverages in hand. He sets down your coffee and cake while taking his own plate and tea off the tray.

“Why are you so upset?” He immediately observes the distress on your face and the way your eyes are glistening. You shake your head and dab at your eyes with a napkin, Zayne watching you intently. The cute slice of cake he’s gotten for you sits temptingly in line with your vision but right now it might as well be a lump of clay, all appetite for it gone.

Zayne’s eyes flick to the cake and back to you. “Did I get the wrong one?”

You’re about to shake your head no when the conversation at the table behind you picks up again. Clearly, they hadn’t noticed Zayne sitting down.

“He deserves so much more than that blob. There are so many attractive women at the hospital.”

“I agree. He could get anyone he wanted. Someone who actually takes care of their health and watches their figure.”

Shame fills you and you’re unable to look at Zayne in the eyes, knowing he had heard them, even though you know it was far from the truth. You ate all your vegetables and exercised frequently. But your body just refused to slim down no matter what you did. No matter how much you tried to lose weight, the weight just didn’t want to lose you. You’re about to get up and leave when Zayne speaks up, loud and clear, in a scathing tone.

“Right, because weight is the only indicator of a person’s health, isn’t it?” Zayne’s words drip with sarcasm.

The entire nurses’ table jumps at his voice, turning around to look at him.

“Oh, Dr. Zayne! We weren’t-”

“I don’t care what you weren’t doing. Do not talk about anyone that way, patient or not. Were you not taught compassion as part of your medical training? Or is it reserved for people who look a certain way?” His eyes are narrowed and the table looks tense. One by one the nurses start to get up, quietly murmuring apologies to him as they exit the cafe.

Zayne watches them go, anger still visible in his eyes before turning his attention back to you. His hand covers yours on top of the table. “Are you all right?”

You sniff. “I try. You know I try. I cook all my meals. I exercise. We work out together. But I can’t get the weight to go away.”

“No sweetheart. I know how much you take care of yourself.” Zayne reaches across the table to wipe your tears. “You do not have to lose any weight. You’re perfectly healthy, and as long as that’s clear, nothing else matters.”

“You’re not dating me out of pity?” You look at him uncertainly.

“Pity?” Zayne chuckles in disbelief. “Darling when you first started coming to my office I was sure you were out of my league.” His thumb strokes your hand reassuringly.

“You’re so amazing. Talented, compassionate, considerate. And all those things will always matter more to me than anything else.”

He looks at your neglected slice of cake. “Now don’t take out your sadness on the dessert. If you don’t finish it in 5 minutes, it’s mine.”

Rafayel:

You grip your wrap firmly around your shoulders, stepping with grace into the dazzling venue. You never missed Rafayel’s shows if you could help it but this time around, you had a skin in the game. Literally.

One night after a round of passionate lovemaking, you had woken to find Rafayel painting, and when you saw what he was working on, you’d blushed and smacked him on the shoulder.

There, in the brush strokes, he had painted you sleeping on his bed, your hair in disarray as it cascaded down your back, your face buried into the pillow and not quite visible. The sheets covered you modestly but the wide curve of your hips, the pudges of fat at your side, and the bra rolls under your arms were all painted with clarity and you found you couldn’t look at it. A feeling of unease had settled in your stomach. Was this the way your boyfriend viewed you?

You had brought it up to Rafayel in a small voice. “Do you think I’m fat?”

Your heart sank as Rafayel’s face, which had been so soft, a curve in his lips as he had painted, changed into a mask of dismay. “Fat?” he had asked, looking quite upset. “Where in this painting have I made you look fat?”

“Here. And here.” You point out the areas and Rafayel pulls you against him, holding you fiercely.

“Cutie, I swear to God I’m just painting you as you are. I don’t think you look fat at all. I’m just painting my beautiful girlfriend in all her glory.” Crushed against his chest, you try to talk.

“But, most women in paintings don’t look like that, they have smaller hips and thighs and mine look so…ugly.”

You thought Rafayel’s heart might have broken as he heard your word of choice. “There’s nothing about you that’s ugly. None of this is ugly. It’s a body. Your body. And baby I love every inch of it exactly as it is. I didn’t mean to make you sad while I painted all the pretty little pieces of you that make you whole.” His hands trace your sides, squeezing you reassuringly.

“There’s so much beauty in you baby. That’s all I see in this painting. You’ll always be the biggest masterpiece in my life.”

Knowing he held you in such high esteem had done wonders for your confidence, which was what you were trying to emulate as you walked into the gallery. Rafayel had hesitantly asked for your permission to showcase that painting for this show, promising he’d never use it without your consent. Nervous as you were, part of you was actually thrilled that it was going to be used. It was difficult to make out who the subject in the portrait was since your face wasn’t entirely visible.

Still, it felt like an out-of-body experience as you approached the hung canvas, observing the crowd that flocked to it. Some people nodded at it quietly before moving on, others commented under their breath that Rafayel should have chosen a more appropriate model.

“Can you imagine this woman being naked in his bed?” One of them asked and her friends snickered sycophantically. “He must have been drunk or something.”

“And why is that?” You turn in time to see Rafayel, dressed sharply in a couture outfit approach you and pull you to his side, his hand resting possessively on the jut of your hip. The woman backpedals.

“Mr. Rafayel! I mean, obviously, your work is unique but I can’t help but wonder what you might have been trying to convey when you painted someone with such a…heavy structure.”

Rafayel pretends to consider her words. “I suppose…people have different views on what beauty is. All I was trying to convey was how much I loved the person in the painting. Anyone that doesn’t see the beauty in this particular painting, well I’m afraid they have poor taste.”

Grinning at the affronted look on her face, Rafayel whisks you away, but not before you throw her a smug smirk over your shoulder.

Sylus:

Who knew underground mafia bosses loved their parties as much as their money? As strange as it was, the cliques had started becoming familiar with you hanging around. Anytime Sylus was invited to a gathering, it was expected that you were his plus one. While most of the men entertained polite conversation with you, it was no secret how coveted Sylus was by the women in the N109 zone.

They wrinkled their noses as you walked by, your head held high, knowing you shouldn’t let their words get to you but it was hard. You tell the bartender your order and put a $100 bill into the tip jar. After all, you couldn’t embarrass Sylus by handing out a miserly tip when he was supposed to be the richest man here.

You knew you looked good enough to kill; Sylus had chosen the gown you were wearing himself, even hiring a personal tailor to fit the dress to flaunt your best assets and a thick choker of diamonds glittered on your neck. The plunging V-line of the dress showed off a tempting display of creamy cleavage, the bodice of the dress pushing up your impressive bosom. The material crept over your belly and hips, your fupa visible a little more than you would have liked but Sylus had refused to hear otherwise. You remember the way his hands had caressed the bulge of fat after helping you zip up the gown, his low, contented, purr ringing in your ears.

“Kitten, you’re going to be every man’s envy tonight. How delightful that I get to flaunt you as mine.”

A group of women, all model-thin and gorgeous, approach the bar, their cold eyes fixed on you, wearing smiles that could cut glass. Your fingers drum nervously on the counter as you try to ignore them. One of the women spies the tip you had put in and jerks her chin at you, her lips twisting into what looks like a sneer.

“So Sylus has the money to let you throw around $100 bills into tip jars. I wonder…” She pauses and the group draws collectively closer like a cackle of hyenas. “Wouldn’t his finances be more wisely spent on other avenues?”

“Such as?” You ask carefully.

“A good plastic surgeon perhaps? Lord knows you could use some liposuction in more places than one.” Her entourage leers at you while covering their mouths to stifle their laughter.

Your back stiffens and your eyes widen in shock. You resist the urge to cover your middle. You knew you should have pushed harder to have the gown loosened. Your fupa, the soft squidge that bulged under the material of the dress…it was a mistake thinking you could attend a party with it showing up so obviously.

A million retorts form in your head but they all die weakly on your tongue. You had no defense, and you felt pathetic that you were sitting here and taking their abuse but your mind felt frozen, like you couldn’t plan your next move.

“How did you ever think that someone like you could pull off a dress like that?” The woman presses, her eyes boring into yours. Your pulse quickens as you try to find a way to escape.

“You’re right, she can’t pull off a dress like that.” A rich, deep voice answers the woman who pales as she sees Sylus drape his arm possessively around your shoulders. “It’ll wrinkle. That’s why I’ll be pulling it off for her as soon as we get home.”

His eyes flash scarlet as he signals to the bartender, who immediately starts pouring him a drink and expediting your cocktail, setting both glasses on coasters in front of you. You flush but try not to look too pleased as you take a sip, feeling the alcohol loosen you.

“Mr. Sylus.” The woman’s voice changes immediately and she steps back. “We were just talking about fashion.” she fibs hastily, trying to cover up her reason for using the word ‘dress’.

“Fashion?” Sylus looks at her patronizingly. “Do tell.”

Caught, she wets her lips before saying, “Oh we were talking about jeans and how they never fit or have pockets-”

“Hmm. I can understand these problems. After all, jeans without pockets are like women without curves…there’s nowhere to put your hands.” His broad hand shifts to your hip, his fingers subtly signaling it is time for you to go. You pick up your glass and Sylus holds onto you firmly as you walk back to the crowd.

Xavier:

You’re sweaty as you and Xavier walk back from the office gym to the locker rooms. Xavier drinks from his water bottle, swallowing zealously. “I think we’ve exercised enough for a whole week,” he says as you walk. You laugh and shake your head.

“We only did a half hour of cardio!”

“Yeah, but we lifted all those weights too! In fact, my muscles already feel stronger.” Xavier flexes his arm and a visible bicep forms, making you grin.

“Oh so strong,” you say as you reach out to squeeze. Xavier winces slightly and you quickly withdraw. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok. I’m a little sore.” You reach the locker rooms.“I’ll wait for you outside.”

You nod and he disappears into the men's locker room. You wander into the women’s, undo the lock, and retrieve your bag, finding a stall to change your clothes. You peel off your damp leggings which stick to your plushy thighs and you drag them down, sighing in relief as the skin jiggles freely in the cool air after being stuffed in the heat of polyester for so long.

The skin on your butt and stomach are dimpled, something you’d come to terms with. You recall how nervous you’d been to let Xavier see you in a bathing suit at the pool but now you barely glance at them.

“It’s like your skin is smiling at me when I kiss it.”

That’s what Xavier had said as he kissed the soft flesh lovingly. Who could possibly feel self-conscious after that analogy? As you fold away the sweaty clothes into a garment bag, you hear several of the other changing room doors open and a group of voices fills the locker room as you change. You normally wouldn’t have paid attention but you freeze when you hear Xavier’s name.

“Why do you think Xavier works out with her of all people?”

“I know! They workout together like almost everyday and she hasn’t lost any weight!”

“She probably lacks the discipline to go on a real diet. It doesn’t matter how much she exercises, that fat isn’t going to go away if she doesn’t eat healthier.”

“Xavier really needs to find a better workout buddy. She only slows him down.”

Your heart clenches in your chest as you hear the cruel commentary. How dare these women talk about your body like it was a source of entertainment for them? Both rage and sorrow fills you as you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. Suddenly all you can see are the flaws.

How cute, to call cellulite ‘dimpled skin’ like it was something to be adored. You stare at the lumpy skin, at the way your stomach and arms have stretch marks everywhere, the way your skin bulges over the band of your bra. You wait in silence as the women finish their chat and you hear them exit the locker room.

After what seemed like ages, you finally finish dressing and leave the changing room feeling humiliated. The post-workout glow had all but vanished from your system and you couldn’t shake off the feeling of being perceived like a huge, hulking, ogre; built big and lumberingly, not at all cute like the princess Xavier claimed you were. You leave the dressing room, then stare in disbelief as the same group of women crowd around Xavier as he waits for you. You lurk, not wanting to be seen, then one of the women speaks up.

“Xavier, if you’re looking for another workout buddy I’d be happy to tag along.” One of them chirps perkily.

Xavier chuckles politely and shakes his head. “Thank you, but no. I have a workout buddy.”

“Oh cmon Xavier, don’t you think you need someone who can challenge you a little more?”

“I do actually. That’s why I work out with her.”

“Does she really challenge you?”

“I think she challenges me more than you. Didn't you finish last in the company relay race?” The woman’s face falls and your heart skips a beat.

“And you,” Xavier says as he turns to face another woman. “Forgive me if I’m wrong but you struggle to push anything more than 75 pounds. My workout buddy does 150 easily. She’s very strong. Perhaps you might benefit from training with her.” The second woman looks offended even as she’s being chastised.

Feeling your confidence soar, you skip over to Xavier feeling as light as a feather. Xavier’s eyes light up as you approach. “Ladies,” you say smugly to their scandalized faces before pulling Xavier away from them, holding his arm as you walk away.

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whorelaud · 1 month ago

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꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 hushed fantasies ¡

pairing brother's best friend¡nicholas chavez x fem¡reader

summary thinking you were messaging your friend, you accidentally sent your brother's best friend a thirsty paragraph about him, with Nicholas opening it before you get a chance to delete it. what you were not expecting was the leading conversation, causing realization to wash over you as he hints your desire is not one-sided after all.

contains suggestive, sexual tension, a bit of dirty talking, a brief kiss, flustered reader, cocky nic, hes also very freaky (uhh???)

a/n this is the silliest thing ive ever written i was giggling the whole time while writing it. likes and reblogs are v much appreciated!!!

word count 1.7k

You: the amount of self control i have is insane because why do i not have this mans dick in my mouth rn please i need nic so fucking bad its not even funny anymore he is everything i want in life id let him use me any day morning afternoon n night im available ugh i dont even get the ick when its him he was acting like a dad earlier yelling at us to grill the meat right and it was so adorable ill call you daddy u want me to call u sir i dont kink shame im down for whatever king omg stop he got hurt earlier and he GROANED???? i almost fell to my knees YAHOOO he definitely whimpers #needthat 10/10 i just know its thick ooh tip pink shade #d97e77 thats insane till my knees are bruised and my throats scratched my panties fell tears are rolling down my thighs OMG PLS can you feel my pain hes so bodangshis how does my brother look at him and not wanna fuck him id be all over him if that was my friend gahhhd!!! hes actually so sweet he kept speaking to me earlier so i dont feel left out of the conversation and i find that adorable do u think he slaps it before he cums oh my his girlfriends so lucky im ab to put her in a headlock ahaha this is gross no man should have this much of an impact on u unless their dick is big and the sex is absolutely amazing yooo what he probably knows how to please a lady id be hard if i had a dick rn STOPP he has a happy trail im gonna lose it hahah lets find out where it leads i dont wanna think ab that im going crazy literally pulling my hair out that should be u baby GIVE ME A CHANCE?!!!! thinking ab him makes me so nervous this is getting a little too srs ahaha okay im sorry hows life?!? i miss u :(

Sending that message, you were anything but expecting the response you got in return, not from the man himself, that’s for sure.

nic: oh?

nic: i think you got the wrong person

You audibly gasp, realization washing over you as you read over the message. That was, in fact, not for Nicholas, nor was it for anyone but your friend to see.

You panic, putting your phone down to process what happened, needing a moment before responding. Right, you needed to do that.

But why did he see it so fast? He didn't even give you time to comprehend your message, the text switching to read in an instant.

Hell, it was midnight, and it’s been a long, tiring day for the both of you, having been out the whole afternoon, merely to come back to the hotel and spend more time with your other friends.

Everyone decided to end the night off early; early being a bit before midnight, with you heading to your room afterwards. Your brother and his best friend shared the room taking place next to yours, making it easy to reach out to him.

And for that, you were grateful since Nicholas was with him; meaning you got to see more of him throughout this trip.

You’ve had a crush on Nicholas for god knows how long, with it starting the moment your brother befriended him. You’ve technically gone through all the phases he experienced, hell, you saw him more than your own parents.

He was sweet, a little too sweet, perhaps it bothered you. Nicholas was very known among women, he knew how to attract a lady, showering her with praises until he eventually got what he wanted.

That made you extremely jealous, knowing you couldn't have him. He was forbidden, off-limits, someone you could only admire from afar.

And that stupid crush of yours led to this conversation, one you didn't want to discuss.

You: i didnt mean to send that to you

The text switched from delivered to read right away, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

nic: clearly

nic: i dont have a gf btw

Why did he feel the need to clarify that, and why were you relieved over hearing it?

You buried your face in your pillow, feeling heat reduce from your body. You’ve never been this embarrassed before, not around Nicholas. While you were weird sometimes, it was never this bad.

He wasn't supposed to know about this, nor discover it the way he did.

You: cover your eyes pls

You: this wasn't for u

nic: you sure?

nic: are there any other nics in your life?

Your stomach twisted at the message, hand coming up to cover your mouth as an audible gasp escaped your throat. How could he say that?

You felt all sorts of emotions wash over you, unable to process each one of them as you read the message over and over again.

You: what if there is

The question was risky, it could either end with him telling your brother, or him teasing you over it and brushing it off. Either way, you couldn't have him, so why not just fuck it and go with the flow?

nic: then that would be disappointing.

Your breath caught in your throat, vision going blurry as Nicholas’ bubble kept appearing and disappearing.

nic: id really hate that you feel this way about someone else

Oh my god, were you dreaming?

You could not believe your eyes. You turned off your phone, letting the dimness of the room seep through for a moment before you unlocked your device once again, heart skipping a beat when you realized it was real.

Nicholas, your brother’s best friend, might have been flirting with you, but that’s just in your head, right…?

You: ??? wdym

nic: you first

nic: was this about me, doll?

The pet name made you weak to your core, spiraling you over the edge as you put your phone down for a second. You took a deep breath, feeling your face heat up at how suggestive the boy sounded.

He sounded so desperate, you weren't sure if it was the tiredness, or him being genuine. Either way, you’re fucked, because you’re willing to do anything for him, even if it means breaking your heart.

You: what if it was

You: what will you do ab it

You felt nauseous as you waited for a response, groaning when the boy disappeared for a minute. Did you say something wrong? Why did he suddenly leave?

nic: then id risk it all

Speechless. Your mouth hung open, chest filling with lust as a breath heaved out of you.

You: are you saying this because you’re tired

nic: no

nic: god no

There was no ounce of self control in your body left. You almost screamed, overwhelmed by a new sense of emotions.

Is this how it felt? Because fucking hell.

You: it is

nic: it is what?

You: this is so embarrassing

You: why are you making me admit it you know exactly what im talking about

nic: baby

nic: jus tell me

You: no you suck im going to sleep

nic: WAIT no come here youre so cute

You blushed at the message, unable to suppress the smile forming on your lips. God, he’s such an idiot. And you were totally swooned for him.

You: i literally just sent you a message talking ab how much i wanna suck your dick what about that is cute

nic: oh? so you do admit it

You: …

You felt nervous, realizing how serious this has gotten. From a silly message turned into you contemplating whether this was a good idea. The last thing you were anticipating while typing that message was a confrontation, one from Nicholas; at that.

nic: you couldve told me yk

You: do you hear yourself

nic: ? what

You: nic you know this is wrong

You: youre gonna wake up tmr and forget all ab it

nic: you knkw

nic: yoirw so fucjinf hot

You came to a halt, noticing the amount of mistakes the boy was making. Your mind wandered somewhere else, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face.

You: what are you saying

nic: fucking hell

nic: take the hint baby

You froze in your spot, tongue coming out to wet your lips, suddenly feeling heat travel to in between your legs. Don’t give in, don't give in, don’t give in.

You: what

nic: you couldve asked me if you were curious

nic: i wouldve happily showed you

That sent you over the edge. Your mind went fuzzy, unable to process the last few texts you received from Nicholas. He was being serious, dead serious, you were sure of that.

The texts you exchanged always revolved around your brother; usually Nicholas asking whether he was home or not. However, this one was different.

He was hinting something, something very risky that you were unable to resist.

You: dont say that

nic: what, you don't believe me?

You: nic

nic: give me five

You stared at the message on the screen, confused on what he meant. Your eyebrows furrowed with puzzlement, awaiting a message, merely to get nothing in return.

As you were about to shut your phone and go to sleep, it pinged, the notification startling you awake. You clicked on it immediately, mind going hazy as you read the message over and over again.

nic: open the door

nic: im outside your room

You didn’t hesitate as you got up, swiftly walking your way to the door. You unlocked it with haste, vision going blurry as you caught sight of Nicholas, who was standing inches away from you now.

He looked just as desperate as you were, maybe even more. And that was it, it was all you needed to pull him by the collar and cease the distance between you two.

The moment his lips collided with yours, you realized that maybe it’s worth ending up with a broken heart, because Nicholas tastes fucking addicting, and you found every way to make good use out of that obsession.

The possession of knowing he’s off limits, yet here he was, eagerly kissing you numb.

#nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x y/n #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez x you #charlie mayhew #grotesquerie #father charlie mayhew

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lovebugism · 4 months ago

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you’re writing for carmy now omg i’m frothing at the mouth 😭 i love the trope where reader is quiet in bed and needs to be coaxed a bit but… i feel like it would be kind of hot if reader was the one coaxing carmy? 👀 no worries if you’re not feeling this one!

ty for requesting! — you teach the bear how to use his voice in the bedroom (new relationship, inexperienced!carmy, experienced!reader-ish, smut 18+)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

Carmy never notices when he’s quiet. His head is always so loud in comparison — it’s easy to forget he isn’t saying anything out loud when his mind’s constantly racing. He doesn’t mean anything by it, though. He’s just chronically observant. And painfully silent with it.

He lays on his back, pressed between unmade sheets and your warm body. The covers bunch at your bare hips as you roll in languid thrusts over his lap. A satiny summer breeze smooths over your burning skin from a cracked-open window. Every time the curtains billow, more of the moonlight peeks in. It drips in silver shades over your naked skin and your pretty face, now twisted in a look of undeniable pleasure — brows scrunched, eyes closed, mouth wide open.

Carmy’s tattooed hands rest impatiently on your hips. His fingers dig into the plush of them as he rocks you back and forth over his cock. You make pretty noises for him every time your clit brushes his coarse thatch of pubic hair, so he angles his hips just right to make sure you keep hitting that spot.

“Carmy,” you moan in a whimsical sigh that makes his chest swell. “Just like that. ’S so good like that. Please don’t stop—”

His face, made of dark shadows and sharpened edges, is pinched in a look of acute concentration. A distant feeling of deja veux swims in his stomach. It makes him wonder if he’s seen this in a painting before. One of those Renaissance types. The kinds that are harrowingly realistic and always heart-wrenchingly beautiful in a way.

It makes him want to draw you. Just as you are now. Head tossed back, mouth gently agape, lashes fluttering over glowing cheeks. He wouldn’t be able to do any of it justice, but he tries to memorize the soft lines of your face, anyway.

Your hips slow to a stop. Reality hits him hard.

“Woah, woah— Hey,” Carmy mumbles in protest, brows pinched in confusion when he comes down from the clouds. Through labored breaths that make his sweaty chest rise and fall, he wonders, “What happened? Why’d you stop?”

His icy blue eyes dart over your face, searching for any sign of harm. In true Carmen Berzatto fashion, he immediately thinks he’s done something wrong — that he got too far in his own head and hurt you in some way without realizing. The anxiety is fleeting, but he feels the pinch of it anyway — right where your palm rests flat on his chest, just over his pounding heart.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, similarly panicked. Your bare chest sparkles with a thin layer of sweat and catches the moonlight with every uneven inhale.

Carmy nods rapidly, chestnut curls brushing the pillow. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m— I’m great. Why?”

You exhale a small sigh of relief, growing sheepish under his unwavering gaze. You feel a bit silly for stopping now. “You just aren’t… You aren’t really, you know… saying anything,” you answer shyly.

“Am I supposed to be saying something?”

You giggle quietly to yourself until you realize he’s being genuine. Your smile ebbs as you stammer, “Well, no, it’s just— Some people usually moan, I guess— When they feel good.”

Carmy nods firmly in reassurance. “I feel good.”

“Okay…” you nod back, slower and more unsure.

“I promise,” he tells you, tattooed hands squeezing your sides. He shifts nervously on the mattress, similarly victimized by your adoring stare. “I just… I just like watchin’ you, I guess…”

A shy smile quirks the edges of your mouth as you peer down at the boy beneath you. “You’re sweet, bear,” you coo in a honeyed murmur.

“You’re sweeter,” Carmy insists. You think you see the faintest hint of a grin on his lips, but it’s hard to tell in the low light. “Wanna taste?” he teases a second later.

Wordlessly, you bend down for another kiss, far too chaste for his liking. He almost says something about it until you roll your hips again. The words of protest disappear when he inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Does that feel good?” you ask him.

He nods silently, squeezing your sides in a feeble attempt to move you faster on top of him.

“Tell me.”

“Feels good,” Carmy obeys through gritted teeth.

The subtle assurance makes you moan — a pretty, breathy thing that spills accidentally from your opened mouth. All he can think about is getting you to make that sound again.

“Do you like it when I talk to you?” he wonders aloud, very innocuously curious.

You nod, brows furrowed as you grind over his lap. The bed frame squeaks quietly when you roll your hips forward. When you roll them back again, he can hear the faint sounds of your wet pussy — the quiet schlick-ing of his cock fucking into you. The two noises play one after the other in rhythmic tandem. The sinful sounds of sex.

Carmy racks his head for something to say in the not-so-silent meanwhile. You watch him get lost in his mind and cup his cheeks between gentle palms. “Don’t think so hard about it, bear,” you say with a wavering smile. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s okay.”

You duck down to kiss him again. The angle shifts. Carmy bends his knees and fucks up into you, mercilessly and without warning. Your mouth hangs open in another weak moan that fans across his chin.

“That good?” he pants.

“Yes,” you whine. “Carmy— fuck— You’re so deep…”

Babbles spill from your mouth in thinkless slurs. They tumble from your swollen lips with an admirable effortlessness, which Carmy has never thought himself to possess. He tries, anyway, to talk to you with such sinful ease.

“You’re huggin’ me so tight,” he mutters through a clenched jaw. The very first thought to come to mind as the velvet confines of your cunt pulsate around him, squelching quietly in time with his thrusts. “Can feel you throbbin’ around me, babe— Shit— It’s like a fuckin’ heartbeat.”

Your whine fills the quiet bedroom, adding to the symphony of bed squeaking and skin slapping.

Carmy shifts his hips upward. The new angle allows his cock to reach a spongy depth inside you and pins your swollen clit against his happy trail, which now glimmers with a layer of your honey.

“Right there?” he pants.

You nod wordlessly until the words catch up to you. The tip of your nose brushes the bridge of his. “Yes,” you whimper.

His brutal thrusts pick up pace a second later, never wavering in their wicked pursuit. “Let me hit that spot,” Carmy mumbles to himself like a man crazed. “Let me hit that spot, let me hit that spot.”

Pleasure swells within you, overwhelmingly so. It’s a warm and sparkling feeling in the pit of your stomach — a tightening coil, a fraying rope, a dam about to burst. The intensity of your inevitable orgasm frightens you.

“Carmy…” you whimper.

“I know,” he nods sympathetically, right before he plants his feet on the mattress. He strengthens his thrusts, which have slowly started to lose their rhythm. “It’s okay. C’mon. Cum for me— I can feel you fuckin’ drippin’ on me, baby— C’mon.”

Your jaw clenches to fight back the scream clawing at your throat. It comes out in a pitiful whimper instead when you tense over his lap. Your orgasm washes over you in waves that leave you shaking, thighs trembling on either side of his hips.

Carmy goes accidentally silent once more as he watches you, swelling with pride as you reach the height of your pleasure. His light eyes flit over your features in a feeble attempt to memorize them — the furrow between your brows, the wrinkles beside your shut eyes, the spit-slicked sheen to your kissed lips.

You’re painting brought to life. A heavenly thing he can’t believe he gets to touch with unworthy hands.

“That’s it…” Carmy murmurs lowly. The words bubble in his throat and fall from his mouth mindlessly. He doesn’t even have to think about them now. It just feels right to praise you like this. “That’s it. There you go. So pretty… Always so pretty for me.”

As your body racks with aftershocks, you seek refuge in his arms. Your weight rests entirely upon him as your tense limbs slowly relax, but Carmy doesn’t mind. He just wraps his tattooed arms around you and holds your trembling body closer.

“I got you,” he promises through labored breaths, chapped lips brushing your temple with every word. “I got you. ’S okay. You did so good for me, baby. Thank you.”

You don’t have the words to tell him that you should be the one thanking him.

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yueebby · 1 year ago

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hii omg I love ur fics sooo much they're really helping me recover from.. gege. I was wondering if I could request gojo x drunk!reader. like maybe they come back from partying with geto and shoko and are just completely tipsy. but they're reallyyyyy affectionate and flirty and gojo literally goes insane like his heart can't take it . bonus points if reader won't stop peppering him in kisses.

"you're sooooo hot.. and- and strong! ohmigosh are you single?" AND MANS IS JUST BRIGHT RED.

preferably fem-reader thanks ^__^ <333

drunk in love — gojo satoru

contents. fluff, established relationship, alcohol (drunk!reader), gojo being gojo, youre drunk and in love but gojo loves you more

notes. anon your request was so cute i just had to write it TT i kind of got carried away from the original prompt.. but enjoy this as a form of therapy from that one eyed cat!! ps i hate drinking so idek if this is accurate :>

the night had been long, and shoko is starting to regret letting you consume what felt like half your body weight in drinks during your night out in roppongi. impatiently, she checked her phone, hoping for a response from gojo to her text message. huffing in frustration, she turned to geto, “i thought you called him. where is that idio–”

"shoko, who is that?" in your drunken stupor, you shamelessly ogled the stranger approaching the entrance of the bar. shoko facepalmed as she watched your intoxicated heart eyes for the snow-haired man.

"she's all yours now."

gojo chuckled when he saw your inebriated state, "what did they do to you?" he had just returned from a tiring mission, but seeing you was enough to lighten the weight on his shoulders.

you shifted your gaze between shoko and the handsome stranger, causing mental whiplash. a mumbled apology escaped your lips before you left shoko's side to get a closer look at the man.

amusement danced in satoru's eyes as he observed you stumbling toward him. as the loving boyfriend he was, satoru wrapped a strong arm around your waist to prevent you from tripping.

you placed a hand on his chest to steady yourself, and couldn't help but notice the firmness of his physique. "so strong," you hiccuped, running your finger down his chest, "and handsome... are you single?" you blinked up at him with wide, inquisitive eyes.

suguru, watching from the sidelines, struggled to stifle his laughter as he observed his best friend's face growing increasingly red. the way you were looking up at him was driving him crazy. satoru cleared his throat and shook his head, trying to regain his composure though it was hard with the way his heart was beating so erratically.

"do you not remember me, sweetheart? your strong and handsome boyfriend?" satoru's glossy lips turned down in an exaggerated pout, and you gasped, confused on how you'd forgotten a face so beautiful. it was dangerous, how tempting the man in front of you looked.

giving in to your impulsive thoughts, you grabbed his face with one hand, squishing his cheeks together. satoru’s eyes widened as he noticed your intent on his puckered lips.

with an impish grin, you planted a series of quick kisses on his cheeks, then moved to his lips.“how,” kiss. “could i,” another kiss, “forget,” kiss, “such,” kiss, “a handsome face?”.

suguru and shoko watched in mild horror, as you showered gojo with affection. a dopey grin spread across his flushed face as he allowed you to have your way with him. he's afraid he might implode from the how adorable you were.

“i’m the most handsome man in the world, yeah?” he asks you with a grin, encouraging you to answer as he pulls you closer by the waist. satoru couldn't fathom what he had done to deserve this, but he would gladly repeat it tenfold if he could relive this moment once more.

you nod happily. “the most!”

“well aren’t you lucky to have me as your boyfriend.” satoru flashes his cerulean eyes at you above those dark sunglasses of his. just when you think he can’t get any hotter, he proves you wrong.

your friends' silent presence is suddenly shattered by laughter, jolting you back into the awareness of their company. satoru’s grin dissipates into a frown when he sees that your attention is taken off of him.

"'[name] is lucky to date him,' so he says," shoko giggles. "suguru, do you remember that one time satoru pretended to be a waiter at the restaurant [name] was on a date?" shoko not-so-secretly says to geto. "he got all drunk and then started rhapsodizing about how he was going to marry her."

satoru gasps at the memory of his awkward pining days. his attention quickly diverted back to you, anticipating your reaction.

suguru hums, “ah, or that one time he got distracted and nearly got us killed on a mission all because [name] sent a selfie.”

you pull away from satoru’s hold and he swears he feels all the warmth leaving his soul. his hands instinctively reach out to you, but you’re one step ahead, already making your way to the evil pair in front of him.

“really?” you ask the two, eyes shining eagerly.

shoko nods, an evil grin growing on her face, “you seriously never noticed that stupid dazed look he has when he sees you? even yaga has noticed it.”

gojo’s jaw drops at the sound of his best friends’ attempt to embarrass him. in his defense, he was just a man in love! satoru's infamous pout returns, and he’s trying to pull you back into his embrace and away from those traitors. to his dismay, you ignore him. did you even know that he was dying by the second without your affection?

“tell me more!” you gush, entranced with the idea that your boyfriend was just a lovesick puppy.

“is that really necessary?” satoru mumbles under his breath, though the telltale reddening of his ears betrays his indifferent facade.

“toru i didn’t know that you were obsessed with me,” a giggle erupts from you. to show your adoration, you turn back to cup your boyfriend’s face. he leans into your touch immediately.

“i still am y’know,” his gaze softened. your heart melts at the way he lowers his voice.

“i can’t watch this any longer,” the short haired female gags, searching her coat pocket for a much needed cigarette. suguru agrees silently, tearing his eyes away from the cloying display of affection.

you don’t notice your friends leaving while you’re too engrossed doting on satoru.

“baby– heh– we should head home now,” he groans softly, shivering upon your fingers tracing his undercut. if you continue this any longer, satoru's brain will be fried to the point that no reversed curse energy could fix. the effect you had on him was undeniably unjust.

“can you run me a bath when we’re home?” you pleaded, your voice tinged with weariness. after a night of drinking in roppongi, you felt the weight of the celebrations clinging to your skin.

satoru's lips curled into a playful smirk as he recognized the opportunity presented before him. "only if you'll let me hop in~"

a mischievous agreement danced in your eyes as you responded, "hm okay." you leaned in to place a tender kiss on the corner of his lips. satoru, his affection intensifying by the moment, gently gripped the back of your head and guided your lips back to his. gosh, he was so in love.

i was going to post all mine but im currently rewriting it so bear with me please !!!!

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk fluff #gojou x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #satoru gojo x reader

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rerefundslocals · 9 months ago

Text

CLOSER TO YOU

Summary : Jungkook missed your important merger event for your company and a promotion you've been anticipating, he's apologizing for the wrong things, however it makes you love him harder.

>>pairing : jungkook x fem!reader

>>genre : angst, smut , fluff

>>trope : established relationship

>>warnings : mechanic!jungkook (not mentioned alot), corporate!reader, unprotected sex, dirty talk(min), spanking, oc is a creamer and squirter,rough missionary, neck kisses, makeout sesh, very light dom/sub tones, they really just cute.

>>word count : I'll add later.

[a/n : I'm bacckkk, I wrote this all in one sitting,my writers block is over and I will be writing a lot more when I have a chance cause school is kicking my ass omg! thank you for all the follows, this is my little treat to you. Enjoy!! reblog, reblog, reblog, that's how Tumblr works, but anything will suffice for now! come talk to me and send requests, I don't bite<3 p.s this is heavily unedited]

[listen to : closer to you - jungkook. if I ain't got you - alicia keys. bloom - aqyila]

(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)

It's thick

The tension between you and jungkook.

You could not believe it yourself when Jungkook showed up an hour later after the merger event of your company, not when he promised to be there.

It was insufferable to face your colleagues without a plus one while their partners had held their hands the whole night. Marie did not bite her tongue when it came to asking you about where your partner was.

Yes, you were incredibly embarrassed and just contemplated staying in the bathroom stalls the entire night.

You have a scowl on your faces as you sit in the passenger seat of Jungkooks fucked Nissan Almera. Jungkook does not make attempts to apologize and it has been that way since he picked you up and quite frankly you're getting sick of it.

"Jungkook, seriously! Are you not going to fucking apologize for how you embarrassed me tonight?!" You finally let it out, screaming into the space of the car.

Jungkook avoids your question and simply presses on the gas to get home faster. There's no traffic tonight.

You huff as you cross your arms and stare daggers at Jungkooks side profile. "So, I'm just gonna talk to myself then?" Again, no reply.

However the lack of response from your boyfriend does not stop you as you relay to give him a piece of your mind. "I just wanted you to show up, Jungkook for the one time I ask you to accompany me and this is how you fucking treat me?" You take a deep breath as you continue.

"Fine. Miss three dates that I've planned for us, but missing this important opportunity of my life...you must not love me, Kook."

"Don't say that." Jungkook finally whispers into the car. He just wants to fucking get home, But that's another 10 minutes.

You laugh, but its not full of humor, it's an annoyed breath of laughter. " and why not, Jungkook?" You question

He turns to look at you as you're stopped at a red light and his eyes look heavy and tired, hair disheveled and clothes wrinkled up. "If you wanna talk, we'll do it when we get home. Please. I'm begging you, baby."

You stay looking at him and your eyes never leave each other until the sound of a honk takes you both out of your daze as Jungkook drives off, not once waiting for your response.

A sigh is heard in the car and you turn to look at the city lights, hopefully he gets the hint that you'll have the conversation at home.

10 minutes later you're finally home and out of your heels, however you do not waste time getting back into the conversation.

"So why, Jungkook, why weren't you there? Did you know I got a promotion? And you weren't fucking there to stand by my side. Worst of all, Marie threw it all in my face. So where the fuck were you?" You've rambled but you're angry so Jungkook isn't mad in the slightest.

You've always loved the fact that he is incredibly understanding.

"I'm scraping the floors, ____. I'm barely getting by to pay our fucking rent so sue me for taking an extra shift at the workshop so you can get all the nice things you want." He responds to you, running his hands through his jet black hair.

You look around the gloomy apartment as you pretend to not understand what he had just said to you. The kitchen light shines on you both as you're both sat at the bar stools at your counter.

"I'llet you know that I don't need any nice things, I just want you. You're the only-"

"but I wanna give you all the nice things you want and I'll work twice as hard to give you anything."

It's as if he doesn't get it, he's the only thing you'll ever need.

Your head is hung low as tears gather at your waterline, you'd hate for Jungkook to see you cry cause you know how much he detests it. He fucking hates it.

"I-I love you so much, Kook. But as much as I do, I don't need nice stuff, I need you to be there for me, we just need each other. So stop taking extra shifts, I'm working as well and we can have nice stuff if we just love each other and be there for each other. Okay?"

Your voice sounds heavy, the tears have hit the counter and your back is being rubbed by Jungkook.

To avoid further arguments although he doesn't fully agree, he makes an oath to himself to get a better job and get you a life worth of all the beautiful things you want.

"Okay, baby. I'm sorry, I'll be there for you all the time. You know I love you, right? You're my favorite girl." It felt like years since you've heard Jungkooks heartful chuckle.

He lifts you by your shoulders and forces you to look at him, "I said you know that I love you, right?" You stare lovingly in his brown Bambi eyes as you nod.

Finally, he circles his arms around your waist, standing up as he brings your face into his chest.

You feel complete and whole as you melt into your boyfriends arms, there's no one like him, you don't think they'll ever be.

You lift your head as you hold out your pinky finger to him, eyes meeting once again, "pinky promise to never leave me."

Jungkooks lips spread into a wide smile as he locks his pinky finger into yours, "I pinky promise, baby."

After what seemed like years you both laugh lightly at each other, pinky fingers still interlocked.

"Mm, you know you can't break that promise." You teasingly say.

Jungkook chuckles and brings your locked fingers to his lips and laying a light kiss on your pinky, "wouldn't ever think of breaking this promise, Princess." He whispers against your pinky.

You sigh out a low 'okay' as you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his lips unto yours. His soft pillowy lips meet yours and you both dive into a passionate kiss, Jungkooks head tilted to the side to deepen the kiss, his hands sliding down to your waist to grip the skin underneath your black bodycon dress.

Your kiss becomes a fury for passion and lovemaking as your tongue envelops Jungkooks mouth and a soft moan can be heard throughout the kitchen as you moan into Jungkook mouth.

Jungkook peels off your mouth, leaning in to attack your neck in a series of kisses.

"K-kook, please!" You need him so bad, your breath is hitched as you fight for air and your moans are being progressively loud from Jungkook eating your neck.

He lifts his head up, going straight to undress you, you're peeled of your seat and onto your feet. Your dress is stripped off and you're only left in your skimpy black thong, your plump ass all bare for Jungkook as well as your tits.

Jungkook takes your lips once again, leaning down to pick you up and as he does, he balances you with both hands on your ass and wastes no time laying a slap upon both cheeks and greedily squeezing a handful as you let out moans into his mouth like a mad woman. "Fucking love your ass." He practically groans into your mouth.

Soon, you're backed into your shared bedroom and jungkook throws you onto the bed.

Jungkook tears his clothes off layer by layer until he's left naked and his dick fully hard and bare of any hair is on show.

He spreads your legs as he settles between them, and pulling your thong to the side as he swipes a finger between your folds. "You're so fucking wet, all this for me?"

You can't seem to focus when Jungkook pushes in two fingers into your puckered hole, his speed taking off as soon as he feels you around him. "O-oh fuck, Kook!"

"Mmhm, that's it baby, taking my fingers so well." He fingers you for another 10 seconds until he's pulling out and immediately replacing his fingers with his pink tip, slowly sliding into you tight and wet walls.

"Ohh fuck!" You both moan at the same time, the feeling of his dick deep into your stomach as he starts his strokes off slow.

Your eyes are barely open as jungkook goes at a relentless speed, thrusting into your pussy as if you owed him something.

"That's is baby, cream all over this dick, and spread your fucking legs higher." You're drunk on his cock as he fucks you missionary, feeling him in your organs.

"I'm gonna cum, Kook!" The knot is getting tighter as you feel your wetness trickling down your thighs and your creamy essence coating Jungkooks dick.

"Cum for me, baby. You deserve it. Cum all over this dick." That's all it takes for you to release all over Jungkook, as a scream is let out from the depth of your lungs.

"Good girl." He never stops thrusting as he chases his high, Jungkook presses onto your stomach as he groans, as he feels his high approaching. He's sweaty above you, his dry hair now wet and stringy.

Your moans and Jungkooks are in sync as you feel your tummy tightening once again.

"Fuckk!" Jungkook finally cums and releases his load into your pussy, and you follow right after, squirting all over his lower abdomen.

"Shit." You let out as jungkook rolls over you as he watches you gather yourself.

He gets up and gets a warm wet towel for you. Jungkook cleans himself up and you. Soon after he dresses you up in fresh panties and his shirt and for himself he gets boxers and joins you in bed after an eventful night.

Your head is on his chest as you play with is belly button and Jungkook is in deep thought.

"I'm sorry, baby. For tonight." He finally says and your heart relaxes.

"Let's forget about that. You're here right now, that's all that matters."

"Congratulations on your promotion, I love you, Princess." You're surprised he even remembers and all you can do is let out a squeal.

"Thank you, and I Love you."

"I know." His tone is cocky, not that you care but you're giddy as you lean up to lay a peck on his lips.

There's no where else you'd rather be. That's what you declare.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

original work of @rerefundslocals do not copy, translate or repost as your own! est. 2024

#bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook #bts army #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bts jk #rerefundslocals

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syluslnd · 30 days ago

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Hello! Thank you for your service omg ur single handedly carrying Sylus nation‼️🙏🏼

Can I request a scenario where reader (who isn’t MC) has been a long term situationship of Sylus, like they’re very much in love but refuse to commit because of the dangerous nature of their work in the N109 zone, but reader really hopes they’ll end up together, only for all her hopes to come crashing down when suddenly MC shows up and Sylus becomes really neglectful towards reader, only prioritising MC until one day he doesn’t accompany reader to one onichynus’s deals and it goes horribly wrong with the reader getting hurt/abducted. Angst to fluff pls a happy ending with Sylus coming to his senses 😮‍💨

when you become his second priority

tags-angst with eventual fluff,mentions of violence

The night sky over Onychinus’s sprawling cityscape was studded with stars, casting a subtle glow through the towering high-rises.

Sylus had suggested the two of you head out for a mission, a deal with some Onychinus contacts. As usual, you couldn’t resist tagging along, always thrilled to be close to him in his world.

Sylus, tall and intimidating as ever, glanced down at you with a glimmer of amusement in his red eyes. You could tell he was ready to take control of the situation like he always did, exuding confidence and calm in a way that made you feel safe, even in the darkest parts of his world. He looked over at you, his eyes softening slightly as he murmured, “You ready, kitten?”

“Of course, I’m with you” you replied with a grin, bouncing a little as you slid into the passenger seat of one of his luxurious cars. Your bubbly energy was contagious; he always acted as if he wasn’t affected by it but you’d caught him smirking more than once.

Tonight, he rolled his eyes in mock exasperation but his hand settled on yours, holding it a little too long to be casual.

As he drove through the city, you admired the skyline, sharing random stories about your day and small, happy details about your favorite things.

Sylus listened, nodding occasionally, a slight smirk on his face, though his eyes stayed mostly on the road. At a red light, he finally turned, letting his gaze linger on you. “You know, sweetie, you’d be a lot safer if you didn’t join me on these things” he said, but there was a softness in his voice, a hint of protectiveness beneath his usual hard edge.

You gave a playful pout. “Then who’d keep you company and make you laugh?” you teased, reaching over to ruffle his hair lightly. Sylus gave an exaggerated sigh, though you could see his lips twitch, fighting off a smile.

When you arrived at the Onychinus base, the atmosphere shifted. The bustling headquarters buzzed with energy and you could feel the tension as the meeting began.

Sylus’s demeanor turned serious, his attention sharp and unwavering as he led the deal. You watched him, entranced by his confidence and poise. His eyes, intense and calculating, scanned the room, noting every movement and gesture of those around him. It was moments like these that reminded you why he was so respected—and feared.

The deal itself moved forward without any issues but you stayed close, offering your support however you could. Sylus kept one arm loosely draped around you, like a silent reminder that you were his, his “kitten” in this dangerous world. Every now and then, he’d murmur a soft “Stay close, sweetie” his voice laced with the quiet authority you’d come to adore.

At one point, the meeting wrapped up and you were alone again with Sylus in the hallway leading back to the car. As you walked side-by-side, you took his hand, squeezing it gently and looked up at him with a playful grin. “See? We make a great team.”

Sylus chuckled lowly, his fingers tightening around yours. “Careful, kitten” he murmured, his voice dropping to a tone that sent a shiver down your spine. “I might just start believing that.”

He leaned closer, brushing his lips against your forehead with a rare tenderness that he’d only ever shown to you. Moments like these made you wonder if there was something deeper between you both. But for now, you were happy in this undefined space, enjoying his closeness, his rare softness and the way he let his guard down just enough to show you how much you meant to him.

For tonight, you were his and he was yours in the only way he knew how to be and as you laughed and chatted on the drive back, you couldn’t have known how precious that laughter would soon become.

the next morning the café was small and tucked into a quiet corner of the city, with floor-to-ceiling windows that let in soft morning light and gave the place a warm, cozy glow.

You felt an excited shiver as Sylus guided you in, his hand on your lower back, a gentle but firm presence that never failed to make you feel special. The café wasn’t his usual scene but he seemed relaxed, perhaps indulging your love for quieter, more intimate places.

He glanced around, then met your eyes, his mouth quirking into a smirk. “This place…suits you” he murmured, pulling out a chair for you. “Sweet, but a little chaotic.”

You laughed, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’d say the same about you” you teased, settling into the chair. He rolled his eyes but took the seat opposite you, resting his elbows on the table, leaning in close. His gaze, as usual, felt intense, even as his expression softened.

“You’re in a bratty mood today, aren’t you?” he remarked, voice low and slightly teasing.

“Only because you make it so easy” you replied with a smile, reaching across the table to gently tap his hand. “So, what’s the plan? You’re the one who dragged me out here.”

His smirk grew, and without saying a word, he raised a finger to get the barista’s attention. When she arrived, he placed the most absurd order, one that left you wide-eyed: every single flavor of coffee they had on the menu. You tried to protest, laughing as you looked from him to the poor barista, but he only shrugged, looking unbothered.

“You said you always wanted to try them all” he said, leaning back in his seat, arms folded. “So go ahead. Indulge.”

“Oh my god, Sylus!” You felt a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “You know I was joking about that, right?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t joke about things you want, kitten. Not with me.”

The coffees started arriving, filling up your small table with an assortment of steaming mugs, each one a different shade and aroma. Sylus watched as you eagerly tried each, laughing when you made a face at the overly bitter or strangely flavored ones and taking note of the ones that made you hum with satisfaction. Occasionally, he’d reach out, taking a sip of one of the cups himself, then giving you his quiet, amused approval if he liked it.

After a while, you found yourself leaning across the table, sharing sips from the same cup, your laughter mingling in the cozy warmth of the café. You watched him, noticing the rare moments where his features softened, and his usual guarded expression gave way to something gentler.

“Did you always know you’d be leading Onychinus?” you asked, a little more curious now that you’d settled into the warmth of the moment.

He leaned back, tracing the edge of his cup with one finger, his gaze drifting. “I didn’t know. But it wasn’t like I had a choice.” His eyes found yours again, something dark but honest in them. “The things you don’t choose often become the things you’re best at.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t have a choice” you replied softly. “Otherwise, who’d be here buying me twenty coffees?”

He chuckled, a genuine laugh that you rarely heard. “You’d find some other poor fool, I’m sure” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. But his hand moved to cover yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

Just as you were about to respond, his phone buzzed, and his gaze darkened. He glanced at the screen, and for a split second, his expression changed—hardened into something unreadable. He sat up, pulling his hand away from yours and the warmth that had been between you seemed to evaporate in an instant.

You tried to catch his eye, feeling a flicker of unease. “Everything okay?”

“It’s just an…old friend” he muttered, voice suddenly cool and distant. He stood up, turning his back to you as he answered the call, his voice low and strained in a way you’d never heard before.

You couldn’t make out much of what he was saying, but you heard the shift in his tone—calculated, restrained, almost careful. It was a stark contrast to the teasing, soft-spoken Sylus you’d been with just moments before. He kept glancing out the window, one hand shoved deep in his pocket, the other clutching his phone tightly. His words became hushed, tense, as if he was guarding some important secret.

Your mind raced with questions but you pushed them down, trying to respect his privacy. Still, a pang of worry settled in your chest as he finally ended the call, his posture stiff as he turned back to you. The usual warmth in his eyes was absent, replaced by a distant, almost guarded look.

“Sorry about that” he said, his tone flat, almost dismissive, as he pocketed his phone.

You forced a smile, hoping to ease the sudden tension. “No problem. Everything okay?”

“Nothing to worry about.” He gave a faint smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. He seemed distracted and as much as you wanted to believe him, there was a nagging feeling that something had shifted.

It had been days since you’d last seen Sylus. The texts you’d sent were sparse on replies—short, curt answers that only seemed to grow colder each time. You told yourself he was busy, wrapped up in some new mission for Onychinus but an uneasy feeling had settled deep in your chest. You remembered the way he’d brushed you off in the café after that mysterious phone call, the way he’d shut down, closing himself off as if you were suddenly a stranger.

With the next Onychinus deal approaching, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Usually, Sylus would be the one preparing you, going over every little detail so that you’d be safe. But this time, there had been nothing—no message, no warning, no instructions. The silence weighed on you, suffocating, until finally, you couldn’t bear it anymore.

You found yourself standing outside his office door, hesitating. The hall was eerily quiet, an atmosphere that felt darker than it had ever been. You pushed the door open slowly, your heart pounding with a mixture of hope and dread.

Inside, Sylus stood near his desk, leaning in close to a woman you’d never seen before. She had an aura of quiet confidence, her gaze sharp, as if she were sizing him up even as they talked. Their heads were close together, too close. She said something, her tone low and laced with a teasing edge and Sylus chuckled—a sound that sent a chill down your spine. It was the kind of laugh he used to share with you.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to step forward. “Sylus?” your voice cracked, the warmth you usually brought into his space muted by the weight of everything unsaid.

Sylus straightened, his expression darkening the moment he saw you. The easy humor that had filled his face just seconds before vanished, replaced by a cold, impassive mask. The woman beside him glanced at you, her eyes glinting with a kind of curiosity, as though she were sizing you up, wondering what your place in Sylus’s life could possibly be.

“You’re busy” you managed to say, fighting to keep your tone light. “I just thought—I thought we could talk about the next mission.”

He looked at you for a long, silent moment, his gaze empty of the warmth you’d come to expect, replaced by an iciness that felt almost cruel. “I didn’t ask you to come here” he said, his voice low and cutting.

You took a step back, stunned. “Sylus, I…I just wanted to help. You always said I could be useful—”

“You should learn to know your place” he interrupted, his words sharp enough to cut through your heart. He didn’t look away, didn’t flinch. His gaze was steely, indifferent, as though you were nothing more than an inconvenience, a shadow he hadn’t meant to let linger.

It felt like the floor had fallen out from under you. “My place?” you echoed, trying to keep your voice steady even as it threatened to break. “Sylus, what’s going on? You’ve been distant… I thought we—” You stopped yourself, swallowing back the words, but the damage was done.

Sylus’s gaze flicked to the woman beside him, who watched the exchange with an amused smirk, her arms crossed as if she were enjoying every moment of this. He turned back to you, his eyes devoid of any kindness, any of the softness he’d shown you only days ago. “You thought wrong.”

Your throat tightened and the warmth that had once filled your shared moments now felt like a distant memory, slipping through your fingers. You forced yourself to nod, to keep your head up even as your heart shattered with each second of his cold stare. Without another word, you turned and left, not wanting him to see the tears that threatened to spill over, the silent pain you’d carry alone as you walked away from the one person who’d ever made you feel whole.

The drive home felt like a blur, headlights and streetlights passing in a haze as you wiped away tears that wouldn’t stop. Your hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, as your mind raced with everything that had just happened. It was like you couldn’t make sense of it; every memory of Sylus’s familiar warmth and teasing words felt out of reach, replaced by his cold, indifferent face and that harsh tone. His words, “Know your place” echoed in your head, hitting you harder each time you thought of them. You couldn’t understand. Had you pushed him too far? Had he been pretending all along?

The question lingered, gnawing at you as the car rolled down the empty roads leading home. By the time you reached your place, you were exhausted, the adrenaline replaced by a deep, hollow ache.

The next morning, after another sleepless night, you found yourself staring at his contact on your phone, debating whether to call him. The memory of his sharp tone still stung but the confusion was unbearable. You couldn’t just let things stay like this.

Finally, you pressed call, holding your breath as the phone rang. When he picked up, his voice was casual, almost dismissive, as if the tension from yesterday had never happened.

“Yeah?” he answered, sounding distracted. There was no warmth, but there was none of that anger, either.

“Hey” you managed, your voice wavering slightly. “I… I wanted to talk about yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” he repeated, his tone barely interested. “Is something wrong?”

Your heart sank. He was acting like it hadn’t happened at all, like you were the one imagining things. “I just thought—after what you said, I thought maybe we could… clear things up.”

He let out a long sigh, almost like he was bored. “Look, I have things to take care of. If that’s all, I have to go.”

Your grip tightened around the phone, and you felt a chill run through you as he continued talking, casual, unaffected, as if he hadn’t torn into you less than 24 hours ago. He ended the call with a brief “Take care” leaving you standing there with the silence of the empty line.

It was like a stranger had replaced him overnight and the warmth you’d felt was now a painful memory, drifting further out of reach.

The night of the Onychinus deal was bitterly cold and a dense mist clung to the riverbank, muting every sound but the rush of water. You had been hoping—secretly, quietly—that maybe Sylus would show up, that his absence would somehow break and you’d see him standing there with that familiar smirk, ready to tackle the mission together. But the minutes ticked by and the waiting grew heavier, settling like a weight in your chest until the deal began without him.

but in an instant things went horribly wrong, spiraling out of control faster than you could react. You held on as long as you could, fighting with everything you had, but there were too many of them and you were alone. A sharp, searing pain was the last thing you remembered before everything went black, the sound of rushing water filling your senses as you were tossed into the cold, merciless depths of the river.

When the news reached Sylus, it felt like a blow to the chest, robbing him of breath. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing—the thought of you alone, vulnerable, facing the dangers he’d promised to shield you from. His mind raced, replaying every interaction, every cold word he’d thrown at you and the realization clawed at him with an intensity he hadn’t expected. Guilt twisted in his stomach, a relentless ache, as he thought of the way he’d pushed you aside, how he’d let you walk away, hurt and confused and for what?

He moved quickly, barely registering the world around him as he reached the river, scanning the dark waters until he found you, still and pale, lying half-submerged on the riverbank. His heart pounded, a surge of panic piercing through his usual composure as he dropped to his knees, pulling you into his arms with a desperation he hadn’t felt in years.

“Kitten…” His voice cracked, the endearments he’d so easily tossed at you before now carrying a weight they’d never held before. He brushed damp hair from your face, his hands shaking as he checked for a pulse. Relief flooded him when he felt the faint, steady beat beneath his fingertips, but it did nothing to quell the terror that gnawed at him.

“Why the hell did you go alone?” he whispered, his voice trembling with guilt and grief. “You should have known better than to… God, this is all my fault.” He held you closer, pressing his forehead to yours as if his touch alone could bring you back from the brink. Regret crashed over him like a tidal wave, every moment he’d ignored you, every cold word he’d thrown at you haunting him as he realized just how deeply he’d driven you away.

“I’m so sorry, kitten” he murmured, the words spilling out, raw and unfiltered. “I was stupid. I was a fool. You didn’t deserve any of it.” His fingers brushed over your face, tracing the lines of your features as if committing them to memory and he swore to himself that he’d never let you go again.

#love and deepspace #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you

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kithtaehyung · 4 months ago

Text

bet wrong (3tan717) | myg

drabble: bet wrong pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | 3tan717 | one rating/genre: pg (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after seeing how comfortable yoongi is in his place with your brother and their friends, it’s hard for you to leave… but it’s also hard for you to stay. note: apologies for all the late postings! but kim yeji’s aura was so strong it made me write about her so here we are hahaha. it's not really edited cus i just wrote this up and posted so apologies for any mistakes! note 2: this is in a pocket universe in the three tangerines series, so if you haven’t read the series yet, these characters would make more sense if you did hehe. even though this is very heavily influenced by the olympics, i’m keeping it as easy to read as i can. you can imagine them watching any of the events happening lol warnings: 3tan yoongi as always, angst, olympics talk, yoongi fights back??, the Yearning is Strong, reader is a tease, shiv is back!, brother and jimin are dorks, but so is everyone else, yoongi on the phone, he's so down bad y'all i wanna cry :(( drop date: august 1st, 2024, 7:17pm est word count: 2.3k (just like the first drabble omg?)

—

“Hey, you made it!”

“Oh, shit, look who’s here!”

After a quick greeting to everyone in Yoongi’s living room, you slip off your shoes with a distracted, “I can’t stay long but, I’m here!”

Even though the handsome devil next to you shoots a look, it’s your brother that speaks up, “Wait, why?”

“I’m meeting my friends in a bit.” You hand a still-quiet Yoongi some snacks you brought for everyone, asking a question with a very obvious answer, “Where should I put these?”

He blinks before forcing out, “Over here.”

“K.”

Sounds of conversation and sports games spring about. Jimin’s clearly in some sort of squabble with your brother and Shiv is fanning the flames. There’s a couple guys you recognize but don’t really know talking on the opposite side of the coffee table, but they’re all watching the Olympics and giving their own comments.

Hopefully it’s noisy enough to shroud your dizzying thoughts. Because Yoongi looks damn good in his casual fit and his hair speaks volumes.

What you would give to run your fingers through those waves. Following him through his bustling apartment is already giving you the shivers, so what would a sudden touch feel like? A burst of fire?

“I’ll take those,” he instructs, taking the bags from you and pulling everything out with crinkles. When he sees a certain bag, his blinks make you giggle.

It’s a specific chip he likes, recently divulged during a long night of learning things about one another—like favorite foods, and how fast or slow he likes you riding.

So of course you threw it in your basket before heading over.

Commentators make conversation on the television as you shrug, “Don’t ask me, I dunno how those got in there.”

God, that smile always makes you melt. And he proceeds to turn you into mush as he shows gratitude under his breath,

“Thanks, doll.”

“Seriously, I think they just handed me those,” you joke, trying your best to not do any of the million and three things you want to. “Said I was cute or something.”

His laugh is immediate. But it’s shoved away by cheers and yells, and both of you pop out of the kitchen to see what happened on the tv.

Something big must have went down because even Yoongi reacts, scaring you with a delayed reaction,

“Holy shit, what happened? Sorry,” he immediately apologizes at your flinch, putting a daring but comforting hand on your lower back before making his way to the group.

Did he really just…

He is lucky your brother didn’t see from the other side of the couch.

That was the boldest Yoongi’s ever been and he’s quite literally kissed you in your kitchen.

“Yeji got silver.”

“What? Wait, run it back!”

“I thought she'd take it!"

Chill out. Relax, relax, relax. Everyone else is clearly entranced by whatever happened and no one is even looking at you. Relax.

But damn, that touch meant a lot more than an apology.

Seems like the one vocally surprised at the replay wants to do a million and three things, too.

On your emotional decrescendo, you scuttle back to grab a plastic cup. No use in trying to join them anyway. All you can do for now is get a drink in a kitchen you’re not supposed to know your way around.

Being in his place while your brother is too is quite the experience.

However.

This is absolutely the ideal situation you should be in. You would be the one showing up at Yoongi’s at the invitation of your brother, and it would be a small party where you blend right into the background with minimal interaction.

But of course, the feelings of distance and guilt creep onto your feet, rooting you in place and forcing you to watch from afar.

They’re all checking their phones and pointing at each other—accusingly? Excitedly?—before switching between different games on the tv and yelling at each other.

And while you adore them for being such lovable geeks about this, your eyes cannot stop pinning Yoongi with longing. He’s so radiant doing the most normal things, and his eyes have that sparkle they get when he’s comfortable and at home.

He’s perfect.

Your heart’s warm.

And the cup in your hand never touches your mouth.

—

After you take a seat at his dining table—yet another thing you should not know anything about—you cycle between watching them interact and scrolling on your apps.

At first, you thought you were safe. Staying in the back and letting them have their own time together is good enough for you, especially since you were invited by your brother to stop by.

Really, you were just a courier for food they wanted.

But it was on the way. And it’s a chance to see someone you’ve been missing.

So of course you faked reluctance to come.

The plan was to do exactly this. Hang back until you had to leave, maybe have a bite or two, and try hard not to yearn for Yoongi too long.

Failed step three.

But also now step one, because Shiv decides to twist around to yell, “Hey! Come join us!”

“I’m good over here,” you reply, smiling when he gives you a look.

“Suit yourself!”

One of the guys you recognize but don’t really know gets off the couch to head into the kitchen, asking a question as he opens the fridge.

Wait, he’s asking you something? You?

You leave your chair so you can hear him better, and when he repeats his question you respond.

“Want a drink?”

“Oh, uhh. Sure.”

“Pick your poison. Yoongi doesn’t have much but it’s all strong.”

He’s pretty cute. But then again, all your brother’s friends seem to end up this way. “Water’s fine,” you say with a light smile. “I have to be somewhere else in a minute.”

“Leaving so soon?” He grabs a cup to fill with your choice before handing it over. Leaning against the same counter Yoongi has smushed you against many times, the man takes a sip of his beer. “You just got here.”

“I was told to bring food.”

“Ah, come on. You can stay a bit.”

Uh huh.

Bold choice to be flirting with the company present today.

But you know what to do. Swerve. “What even happened back there? You guys scared the shit outta me.”

From the creases of his eyes, your plan works. “Oh, Yeji? She was supposed to win gold.”

“Feel like she won anyway.”

You both snap your heads over to the kitchen threshold, and your stomach could win a floor routine with the amount of flips it completes. “How come?” You decide to ask, throwing both guys for a loop.

It’s Yoongi that responds first, “She’s trending from a video back in May.”

“Oh, shit, really?”

“Fucking boss. But yeah, none of us got that one right,” his friend responds, which leaves you intrigued.

“Got it right?”

“Mmhmm. We picked her for gold.” Glancing over at Yoongi now crossing between to get to his fridge, he claps his back. “Even this guy bet wrong and he’s usually right.”

“Bet with my heart,” your secret drones as he cracks open a bottle.

“We all did, bro.”

Fucking hell, that move was hotter than it should’ve been.

But now you’re kinda invested in what they’re all doing, so you ask how the whole thing works.

Which leads you to sitting in the living room with everyone three whole minutes later.

“So all of these are events, and I pick what I think happens?”

“Yup!”

“Good luck.”

“Choose quick, the next games start soon.”

Everyone’s eyes are on your paper as you look at the options, with some laughs and comments as you circle your choices.

“Mm, I dunno about that one.”

“Hey, hey, no help.”

You glance at your brother and Yoongi before laughing, “I have no idea what I’m doing but this is fun.”

Their amusement is noticeable.

“If you get any of those right, I’ll be surprised,” your sibling teases, earning a laugh from Yoongi and a counterpoint from Jimin,

“Dark horse?”

“Nah, no chance.”

Park’s shoulders raise as he smirks. “It's all luck, you never know..”

Huffing, you pretend to have confidence for days, just happy that you get to be involved and not hang back like the initial plan. “Yeah, I have masterclass intuition, don’t you know?”

Reactions pop and fizz around you.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Master class, huh..”

“We have a hustler here!”

Your eyes drift to Yoongi’s at Shiv's comment, and you both share a quick, mirth-filled, intimate stare.

This really is a lot more fun already.

Your phone buzzing is the one thing that interrupts, and you immediately feel relieved and saddened by the fact that you have to go.

Finishing up, you hand your brother your picks before standing, heading to the door and saying that you have to leave.

“Wait, already?”

“Tell them you’re busy!”

“I kinda want to,” you admit, feeling a little shy at all the eyes on you. “But we’re watching a movie and tickets are stupid expensive now.”

Yoongi’s already next to you as he waits to let you out. “You okay to drive?”

“Me? Oh, yeah, I just had water.”

“K.”

Why does he have to be so considerate right now? Now you just wanna stay here instead of sit through whatever movie your friends picked!

“Be careful,” your brother comments from the living room, and you wave goodbye.

“I will. Y’all have fun!”

“Okay!”

Facing Yoongi, you wanna do so many things. Hug him, hold him, kiss the shit out of him for his exuding presence in the kitchen earlier.

“Thanks for the food.”

But you obviously can’t.

So you settle for giving him a smile. “Thanks for letting me come over,” you decide to say. “Have fun tonight.”

You get a small lift of his lips in return. “You, too.”

“Yeah.. I’ll try.”

Hearing sounds from outside as you walk to your car, you feel the loneliest imaginable.

But alas.

It’s still not your place to stay.

—

Much, much later, you check your phone after the movie ends and you’re all walking out. While the girls are busy discussing the movie and Taehyung's checking his phone, you're greeted with two very surprising keystrokes.

Yoongi [9:30pm]: :(

He texted that so long ago. Did something happen?

You [10:34pm]: you ok?

All of you talk for just a little longer. When you finally get into your car, you wave goodbye at everyone before looking at your device again, wondering what the heck warranted this rogue of a text.

Yoongi [10:40pm]: Yeah

Yoongi [10:40pm]: Just miss you

Well, fuck.

Heart clenching, your fingers skirt across the screen.

You [10:45pm]: i miss you too.. i didn’t wanna leave😭

Yoongi [10:45pm]: You did though😔

There are plenty of people in the lot. Many people walking past as you wait in your car.

And all you can do is stare at your screen.

Is… Is he drunk?

Yoongi [10:46pm]: So now you have to make it up to me :)

That catches you so off-guard you scoff at your screen through a smile.

You [10:46pm]: don’t be a loser!!

Yoongi [10:46pm]: I’m your loser

Cheeks hurting from your shy as hell grin, you bite your lip to keep your screams from alerting people in the nearby theatre.

How dare this man be this bold when your brother is over there!

If he’s gonna keep this shocking behavior up, who are you to not play into it? You fucking miss him and imagining being there and being yourselves—your true selves—makes your chest clench.

You [10:46pm]: not today you weren’t :\

And now you have to make the drive to a house that no one's occupying.

This is so hard. So, so hard.

But you have to keep going until that one day comes. If it ever does. The day you can do whatever you want with the man you’d fight the universe for? No one will know how to react, and frankly you don’t give a shit about that.

And then you wonder.

Does Yoongi feel the same?

Yoongi [10:48pm]: They're still here

Yoongi [10:48pm]: You down to come back?

Oh.

You are.

Yes, yes, yes you are.

Grateful eyes shut, forehead hitting your steering wheel and heart hurting but still burning lovingly.

There’s no fighting how desperately you want to see him. Especially after seeing him so happy earlier today. Of course you’re going to go. You’d cross mountains even if that meant you’d only get to see him from afar.

Because—and this you know for sure—he would do the same.

...But that doesn't mean you won't prank him just a little bit.

You [10:49pm]: don't bet on it w ur heart again💕

Buzzing with excitement, you start your car and pull out of the lot, calling your brother and letting him know you’re coming back.

“K! You gonna bring food again?”

Normally, you would say fuck no and hang up. But you’re so elated you get to go back, and imagining Yoongi's shock makes you laugh. “Yeah, yeah, what do y’all want?”

“Wait, really? Hey! What do we want for dinner—”

“Wait!” You interject, something pinging into your mind and igniting your curiosity. “How are my picks doing?”

There’s a scuffle on the line, and you can hear your brother complain, Jimin laugh, and a very, very familiar voice answer from your brother’s phone.

Because Yoongi’s voice drones so beautifully through the speaker, and you can’t stop your cackling when he responds,

“Turns out Jimin was right.”

“Damn, I'm the best,” you boast, earning a loud laugh from him and welcoming the way your cheeks hurt with open arms. “Show me that video you were talking about when I get there?”

This is safe to say. It's all you really can say.

There's a little bit of silence before he answers how he can, too.

“Yeah, I will.”

Mm. Maybe Yoongi does feel the same.

“Nice," you whisper. Lips curved up in hope, you keep your voice neutral, “See you soon!”

Again, he responds how he's supposed to. And right after, you both hang up exactly as expected.

For now.

“See you soon.”

—

fin. :)

how did the second 717 drabble go! | join the discord hehe | three tangerines

a/n: love you love you love you. that's really all i can say. but also, here's the video of kim yeji being an absolute badass in may and i cannot stop thinking about her GAHHHHHH and now the guy from turkey?? hello?? this year is so fun and interesting istg!!

#well hello LMAO #bts fic #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #three tangerines #3tan7172 #*ryenfictalk #yoongi fluff #*latest #ryenwrites #3tanextras #yoongi angst

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taegimood · 3 months ago

Note

kitty or shark hybrid tyun thoughts pleasepleasepleaseplease

i already had kitty tyun in the works so you read my mind but omg SHARK TYUN ???!!!! i know we literally just talked abt this on discord but i never thought abt how it would actually work… i’ve never thought about marine hybrids before 🤔 would he need water ??? reverse sandy cheeks LMFAO but no the predatory aspect mmmmm we should talk abt this later

edit this is longer and kind of turned into more of actual writing (??) than the soobin one ugh sorry i’m so inconsistent i’m ekwkndndkfk almost don’t even wanna post it BUT ANYWAY ,,,,,

next on my agenda: cat hybrid!taehyun !!

cat hybrid!taehyun with perky dark brown ears that nearly blend in with his hair, and a sleek tail to match. he’d be reserved when you first bring him home, but not shy or nervous like soobin; taehyun would be cool, collected, on his guard but in a way that lets you know he still sees himself as one in control.

at first it would seem like he really couldn’t care less about your presence in the apartment; quickly getting comfortable enough to make it his own, but apparently you weren’t included in that sentiment, judging from the way he’d just side-eye you before carrying on with whatever he was doing as his only form of acknowledgement every time you attempt an interaction 🫠

it makes you nervous; was this the right decision? will we ever form a bond? little do you know… muehuehue

you knew that cat hybrids were notoriously hit or miss in terms of how affectionate or independent they’d turn out to be, but i mean come on — taehyun acts as though he doesn’t even need you at all !!

imagine the first time you try to pet his ears, him flattening them and immediately swatting your hand away to shrink back with a scowl; the way your stomach would drop as you quickly start to apologize 😭 but he’s already stalking away into the next room like a grumpy grouch >:(

it’s not that taehyun hates you or anything, it’s just that he doesn’t like his personal space invaded — or at least, that’s what he thinks at first, but more on that later 👀

him hearing you crying in your room one night cuz you’re just so frustrated and sad :(( wanting to build a happy comfortable life for him but he’s not even letting you try and you don’t know what you’re doing wrong 🥺 that’s the first time he’d feel a little twinge in his chest, an unfamiliar emotion that he can’t quite place as he finds himself wanting to… comfort you? hmm.. he decides that he doesn’t like this strange new feeling and continues on to his room instead.

but the next day you’d be shocked when you’re on the couch and he actually comes and…. sits.. in the same.. room.. as you ???? someone call oprah ✋🏼

he’d silently situate himself in the armchair away from the couch, opening up his book an educated mf and starting to read without a single word as you sit there gaping at him like 👁️👄👁️ not having any clue that this is his way of offering a small bridge for the gap you’re even a little suspicious tbh LOL but you get so excited regardless and even though you try to hide it, his sharp senses are quick to notice the change in your demeanor.

also you keep glancing over at him like every 10 seconds so that’s kind of a giveaway in itself

after that you’d begin to notice little things that he’d start to do that make you realize you need to let him be the one to decide when to come to you, when you’re allowed to touch him, etc — and honestly you’re just grateful to be making progress.

you’d be on the phone with a friend one day when they start asking about your new hybrid, taehyun’s ears perking up from the kitchen; (you glance over to see his head poking out and his boba eyes sparkling with interest before he catches you looking and instantly scowls, feigning indifference as he disappears again 😭😭 your heart clenching at the cuteness..)

him listening intently as you talk about him, surprised as you even defend him when your friend makes a comment about the cat hybrid stereotypes — “he’s not ‘hellish’ in the slightest. he’s been very good. he just likes his space, that’s all.”

but his favorite part of all would be when they ask you about his breed, what he looks like, etc; his chest swelling with pride as he hears you talk about how handsome he is, how strong and lithe he seems to be, and he finds a purr escaping from his throat at the praise as you boast about him.

after that, even more progress seems to be made; like him randomly coming up to you one day with an extra bit of his food in hand as he places it in front of you and says, “i brought this for you.” and walking away again before you can respond 💀

with how put-together he always seems, you’re finally starting to see how cat-like he truly is the more he opens up to you ❤️‍🩹

he starts speaking to you more often too, his voice a pleasant surprise to you; smooth and even-toned, inducing a bit of a blush from you whenever there’s a slight rasp or purr caught at the end of a phrase.

he perplexes you at first with how blunt or monotoned he can be, but you learn to read him better as time goes on, learn to understand his subtle undertones, and each flick of his ears or swish of his tail.

you’ve also learned that he can be won over with certain treats and presents… which ends up leading to the mess you’ve found yourself in now.

when you decided to buy a bunch of catnip, thinking it would be nice to bake him some desserts with it every now and then, you didn’t think you’d have to go out of your way to hide the stuff. since you brought him home taehyun has never acted out much aside from the occasional swipe of something off the edge of the counter when he’s bored; but he never scratches up your furniture or makes a mess of the apartment, so imagine your shock when you come home from a late shift one night to find your kitchen absolutely ransacked.

drawers and cabinets thrown open and their contents scattered everywhere, kitchen towels shredded to bits, and for a minute you’re terrified that someone broke in or something.. until you realize what you’re looking at.

catnip is strewn EVERYWHERE.

the tub of it fallen open on the floor has you gaping as your eyes follow the trail of it, from the cabinet taehyun must have smelled it from, to where it then spilled across the counter, before being knocked to the floor and.. rolled in??

with a start you suddenly realize that it’s too quiet.

taehyun is never one to come and greet you at the door, but this time, something feels.. different.

which is why you nearly jump out of your skin when you turn to go and look for him, ready to call out his name, only to find him standing in the entrance of the kitchen already watching you.

he’s so quiet that you didn’t even hear him approach and you’re convinced that in another life he would’ve made a great vampire or something.. taehyun salvatore has a nice ring to it iykyk

“holy shit, kitty, you scared me! why are you lurking like that? what the hell happened in.. here...”

your voice trailing off as you actually take in the sight of him and….

taehyun’s chest rising and falling at a quicker rate than usual, normally neat hair all tousled out of place, tail swishing sharply back and forth behind him, ears twitching — you meet his eyes and swallow hard. he’s never looked at you like this before.

his pupils are blown wide and taking in every inch of you, roaming over your body before locking onto your gaze, as if he’s looking straight into you, hyper-focused; silent and still and.…

predatory.

there’s a crackling tension in the air as something flickers in his eyes.

before you can process the speed that he moves forward with you’re being pushed against the kitchen counter with his body flush against yours, radiating heat as he rolls his hips, rubbing his face into your neck as a deep, growl-like purr reverberates in your ear.

you gasp, thighs pressing together instinctively, his tongue licking a rough stripe up to your jaw as he growls, “whose scent is this?”, and you barely even have time to remember the new coworker that he must be smelling let alone the time to answer him before he’s mouthing at your neck, muttering, “doesn’t matter.. i’ll just have to scent you myself.”

his tail curls around your waist and you inhale at the slight prickle of his sharp canines as he smirks against your throat;

“have to let him know that you’re mine.”

you don’t know how you got here, bent over the kitchen table as your previously aloof hybrid pounds you from behind, licking and biting at your shoulder and neck as he purrs roughly in your ear, your pussy clenching hard around his thick cock as he tugs your hair to bring your head up into a scorching kiss; whatever insane energy high that catnip gave him was all being released onto you right now, and you really can’t complain.. nor can you even remember whatever guilt you may have felt since at this point he’s fucked it right out of you.

he’d be telling you how your scent belongs to him, how no one else can have you like this; this sudden possessiveness coming out of seemingly no where, baffling you with the whiplash of taehyun’s deeper feelings coming out.

(feelings that he honestly didn’t even realize he had himself until that catnip got him good)

he’d so be the type to act completely nonchalant about it all the next day, to the point where you’d just about convince yourself that you went crazy and dreamed it all up until he’d do something to show you that no, you definitely did not.

standing at the sink washing dishes after lunch, lost in your swirling thoughts, when he’d come up behind you to place his own dish in the sink — chest ghosting against your back as he leans in just close enough for you to feel his smirk against one of the many love bites littered across your neck. quickly turning to face him but he’s already walking away, casually and without another glance in your direction;

later you’d be tidying up the apartment when he’d walk by you and his tail would curl sneakily around your waist, trailing over your ass as he passes by..

but it’s the last straw for you when you’re sitting on a conference call and taehyun slinks into the room, eyeing your computer, and you can already see the wheels turning in his head at the sound of your male coworkers going over their part of an example presentation.

your eyes widen marginally as his narrow — lip curling as he quickly deduces that one of them must be yesterday’s icky scent culprit — and you give him a stern warning look that he only ignores with a sly smile as he approaches where you’re sitting, your breath catching in your throat as he suddenly gets on his knees between your legs, just out of sight of the camera.

you’re about to mute your mic and ask him what the hell he’s doing when you hear your name being called from the screen, quickly averting your attention to answer your coworker’s question, when you feel the tip of taehyun’s claw begin to trace up your inner thigh.. ohhh boy you’re done for.

you’d be panicking as he’d tease his way under your skirt, flipping it up to reveal your panties that he’d so easily push aside, your voice coming out in a squeak when you try to continue talking as he nuzzles his face into your cunt.

trying to deter him by pushing his head away, but that only spurs him on more at the feeling of your fingers brushing past his mischievously twitching ears; your coworkers asking you if everything’s alright as the sudden warmth of taehyun’s tongue against your pussy sends a rush of electricity through you in the form of a choked-out moan that you can only disguise as a cough.

having to sit through the rest of your meeting as your naughty hybrid meticulously eats you out, his shameless rumbling purrs sending vibrations through your core while he laves at your juices, smug eyes glittering up at you the entire time as you try your absolute hardest not to squirm and moan.

it’s so filthy, so obscene, and he’s got you so so close to the point where you have no choice but to feign sickness and quickly hang up the call with reddened cheeks and labored breaths.

but taehyun pulls away immediately and you give a sharp whine before you can stop yourself.

you can see the satisfaction in his eyes as he poorly feigns indifference poorly on purpose ofc and states, “i’m bored,” with a move to stand up — but you’ve had enough of his teasing.

“nuh uh,” you breathe, your hand in his hair pulling him back in with a surprised little trill as your need to cum overpowers your conscience.

“finish what you started.”

and he’s more than happy to oblige as that same flicker from last night returns to his eyes, yanking you towards his waiting mouth as he ravishes your pussy with even more vigor than before.

“taehyun, y-you’ve been such a… bad.. k-kitty…”

and he eats it right up, the both of you knowing who really seems to be in control here despite your scolding words as you lose yourself on his tongue.

coming apart easily not once but twice before he finally sits back on his heels, licking the wetness from his lips and observing your spent form in satisfaction;

from then on it’s decided that taehyun does like his new owner after all, quick to jealousy but even quicker to remind you that you’re his; who’s the real owner here, to be honest? 🤔

and he even comes to realize that - you know what? - curling up with you for cuddles and head scratches really isn’t so bad after all. he could definitely get used to this ❤️‍🩹

my dom!taehyun agenda knows no bounds i couldn’t stop myself womp

also this feels to me like it had a much different vibe from the soobin one as in like a lot less detailed even tho it’s longer…? idk but later i wanna post more than just one thing for each member anyway so

#ask mj ♡#mj’s hard thoughts #txt #txt x reader #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #txt thoughts #hybrid!txt #dom!txt #taehyun #taehyun x reader #taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun smut #taehyun thoughts #hybrid!taehyun #cat hybrid!taehyun #dom!taehyun #taegimood #mootie lia! 💫

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wholoveseggs · 5 months ago

Note

Omg love your elijah stuff it's the best out there! Could you write a fluffy smut where the reader and elijah get married and she's still human and they plan for her to turn on their wedding night. But since she's about to become a vampire and knows elijah loves the taste of her the blood she has him drink from her during sex one last time and she drinks from him so after sex and aftercare his blood is in her system and he turns her then:)

Something Sweet

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

It's the day of your wedding, a day you've dreamed about since you were young. Everything is exactly as you imagined it would be, except one thing. Today is not only the day of your wedding, today is also the day you die... And you never wanted anything so badly.

♡♡Thanks for the request lovely @sarah-bear706318! I made this one super fluffy♡♡

5.5k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, so much flufffff, blood drinking, sappy Elijah, something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue...

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

Trying to fix my tags! I re-added all of you, and now you will be posted at the top! If you no longer wished to be tagged just shoot me a DM {I won't be offended} xoxo~

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv @myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming @criminallminds @rosemarypotion @spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse @sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury @sekaishell @ziayamikaelson @amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28 @loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy

It was the day of your wedding and you were awoken by the birds chirping outside of your bedroom window. You rolled over to find your side of the bed empty and cold, a note from Elijah in his elegant handwriting.

My love,

I thought it best if I did not see you until the ceremony, as that is a tradition.

I have not been able to sleep. I am both excited and nervous for today, my beautiful wife. I will spend every waking moment cherishing you.

Elijah

You smiled to yourself as you read his words, imagining him pacing the floor as he wrote this, probably in the study or the library.

You pressed the note to your chest, you could hardly believe that you were getting married today. It was a day you had dreamed about since you were young. You had imagined what your wedding dress would look like, the flowers you would pick for the arrangement, how you would wear your hair. But now, none of that seemed important, the only thing on your mind was what came after the wedding.

Elijah would make you a vampire tonight, and then you would have eternity together.

He was still hesitant, even though you had insisted this was what you wanted. He worried that one day you would regret it, that you would hate him for it, that it would break the connection between the two of you.

But he was wrong, you knew it would only strengthen your bond. You loved him so much that it was impossible to put it into words. You would do anything for him, give him anything, including your life.

After a few moments of lying in bed and thinking of your handsome husband to be, you heard the sound of your bedroom door opening. In walked your three bridesmaids and your maid of honor, carrying a tray of delicious breakfast foods.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty!" Rebekah said, walking around the bed and placing the tray on the mattress in front of you.

"What are you still doing in bed?" Freya asked.

"Yeah, it's your wedding day! We have a lot to do!" Camille exclaimed.

You chuckled and sat up in bed, tucking the duvet over your legs. Hayley laid on the bed next to you, popping a bottle of champagne open and pouring four glasses.

"Everybody relax, we have lots of time," she said, handing you a glass. "Don't stress her out,"

Rebekah rolled her eyes and picked up a bag from the floor.

"We have some gifts for you, Mrs. Mikaelson," she teased.

"I'm not Mrs. Mikaelson, yet," you pointed out, taking a sip of the champagne.

"Oh please, the two of you act married already, he is the most whipped man I have ever seen," Rebekah said, sitting on the other side of the bed and passing a wrapped present to you.

You giggled at her comment, knowing it was true. You were a little surprised by how much he was willing to bend to your will. He was a stubborn man, but with you, he was a complete pushover. He told you once that he found it impossible to deny you anything, and that's how he knew you were the one.

You carefully unwrapped the gift and found a beautiful necklace, with a sapphire pendant, you held it up to the light, the rays bouncing off the gem and painting the walls of your room in blue light.

"It's beautiful," you said, smiling at the girls.

"It's something blue, from Freya," Rebekah explained, as Freya fastened it around your neck.

"I spelled it so you can always find each other, no matter where you are. So when you are away, you can always feel him close to you," she explained.

You were touched by her thoughtfulness, touching the stone as it rested against your chest. You couldn't explain it, but it did feel like him, like he was right beside you.

"Thank you, Freya," you said, squeezing her hand.

"Okay now mine!" Rebekah interrupted, holding her present out to you. "Something old,"

You grinned and took the large box from her, opening it to find a beautiful vintage corset, along with a matching set of lace underwear and stockings.

"Rebekah, these are gorgeous!" You said, running your fingers over the intricate designs.

"They're vintage, of course," she said, proudly. "Elijah is rather fond of that time period, I thought they might... inspire him," she added, winking.

You blushed, he didn't need any encouragement in the bedroom, you were certain of that.

"My gift is next," Hayley said, holding out her gift to you. "Something new, and I'm really sorry, but they aren't quite as classy as the last two," she said, nervously.

You took the bag and opened it, it was full of luxury naughty nightwear, baby dolls, bras, panties, a silk robe, all in different colors and fabrics. Along with a few sex toys and a pair of handcuffs.

"I had to get you something practical," she said, with a smirk.

"I love it, thank you," you said, giggling. "I will certainly put them to good use,"

"Okay now mine, it's something borrowed," Camille said, handing you a small box.

You opened the velvet box and found a gorgeous pair of diamond earrings, with a matching bracelet.

"Camille, these are beautiful," you breathed, examining the sparkling jewels.

"They've been in my family for a long time, they belonged to my grandmother," she explained, clasping the bracelet around your wrist.

You looked at your wrist and smiled, your friends were the most wonderful women you had ever met, they had been so welcoming and so supportive, and now here they were, giving you the best gifts ever.

"Thank you, all of you, so much. This has been the best morning," you said, pulling them all in for a group hug.

"More champagne!" Rebekah exclaimed, grabbing the bottle and topping up everyone's glass.

"We still have the day to go, I'm going to have a terrible hangover at my own wedding," you pointed out, taking a large sip anyway.

"Not for long," Rebekah said, a mischievous smile on her face.

The wedding party went quiet, everyone knew exactly what she was talking about, that Elijah was planning to turn you after the reception.

"It's really happening then, tonight?" Hayley asked, looking at you.

You nodded.

"How are you feeling about it?" She asked.

"A little nervous, I guess," you admitted. "But excited,"

"It's a big decision, are you sure you are ready for it?" Freya asked, putting her arm around you.

"Absolutely. I've never been more sure of anything," you said, without hesitation.

"You'll make a lovely one," Rebekah added, pulling you out of bed and to your feet.

"Come on, we have a lot to do, the hair and makeup people will be here in an hour, and I need to make sure you eat something first," she said, ushering you towards the bathroom.

"And then we can finally see this dress!" Hayley added, excitedly.

The five of you spent the rest of the morning in a flurry of activity, the girls made sure you ate and drank water, despite how much champagne was flowing. The hairdresser and makeup artist did wonders, and then finally, it was time for the dress.

You had put on the vintage corset and underwear, rolling up the stocking and clipping them in place. The girls helped you step into the gown, fastening the buttons up the back, before you stood in front of the mirror.

Rebekah started to cry and Freya and Camille put their arms around her, all of them staring at you.

"Are you okay, Bekah?" You asked, looking at her reflection.

She wiped her tears and sniffed. "He's going to faint when he sees you,"

The four of them laughed and you turned around, holding out your hands.

"Well, let's go get married,"

The music started as you entered the garden, and everyone stood, turning to look at you.

It was like a fairytale.

Your eyes were on Elijah the entire time, his eyes were a bit glassy and he was nervously playing with his hands. Klaus handed him a tissue, patting his shoulder and Rebekah hooked her arm in yours , guiding you down the aisle.

"No fainting yet," you whispered to Rebekah, making her giggle.

"I promise I will catch him if he does," she whispered back.

He held out his hand to you when you finally reached him and you took it, Rebekah handing your bouquet to Hayley.

"Hello," you whispered, looking up at him.

"Hi," he replied, smiling down at you, his brown eyes warm and loving.

"You look perfect," he said, softly.

"So do you," you said, grinning at him.

Klaus cleared his throat and began to speak.

"We are gathered here today, to join Elijah and Y/n in matrimony. They have both written their own vows, so Elijah, you may start,"

Elijah squeezed your hands and smiled at you, his eyes soft and full of love.

"My love, you are the one that I have waited centuries for. The one who brings light into my life. I love you so much, I will be forever grateful that I found you. I promise to spend every day of eternity showing you how much I love and cherish you. Thank you for agreeing to marry me, thank you for loving me," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You felt tears in your eyes as he finished speaking, reaching up and brushing a tear away with his thumb. The crowd aww'd at his words, and the entire wedding party dabbed at their eyes with tissues.

"I'm afraid my vows are going to sound a little lame after that," you teased, making Elijah chuckle.

"Elijah," you began. "I have loved you from the moment I saw you. You have always been there for me, through good and bad, you have taken care of me, supported me, loved me. I know my heart is safe with you. You have always said you would give me the world, and I know you will, and I want to give you mine, for as long as I live,"

Elijah's eyes became glassy again and he took a deep breath, fighting back his tears.

"Do we have the rings?" Klaus asked.

You glanced down the aisle to see Hope toddling towards you, with a pillow in her hands. Everyone watched her and she reached you, proudly handing the rings to her uncle.

"Thank you, darling," Elijah said, ruffling her hair.

"You may exchange the rings," Klaus said, Hope was now clinging to his leg, watching the ceremony with fascination.

Elijah slipped the ring on your finger, and you did the same, looking down at the two silver bands. You realized that your ring had a lapis lazuli stone embedded in the metal, the one that would allow you to walk in the sunlight when you were a vampire.

"Elijah, do you take Y/n as your lawfully wedded wife, to love and cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do," he replied, staring deep into your eyes.

"Y/n, do you take Elijah as your lawfully wedded husband, to love and cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do," you said, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

"Well then, by the power invested in me by a monk in the 12th century, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,"

Elijah cupped your cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone, before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. His hands moved down your back, tilting you backwards, dipping you. The guests cheered and applauded, and the photographer snapped pictures.

"I love you," he said, whispering the words into your mouth.

"I love you, Mr. Mikaelson," you said, grinning.

He pulled you up, his eyes were bright, and his cheeks were flushed, his happiness radiating off him.

"Mrs. Mikaelson," he said, softly.

You kissed him again, the two of you wrapped in each other's embrace, his arms holding you tight against him.

"Let's get this party started!" Marcel yelled, causing a cheer from the crowd.

The two of you made your way back down the aisle, and back into the house. As soon as you were inside, you pulled Elijah in for a passionate kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"We are married," you said, giggling.

"Indeed we are," he replied, smiling.

"Can't we skip the party, and just go upstairs now?" You asked, kissing him again.

"My greedy little wife," he teased. "Don't worry, tonight will be worth the wait,"

The compound was elaborately decorated, with lights and flowers hanging everywhere, and the guests were laughing and dancing, having a great time.

You sat at a table near the dance floor with your new husband, watching everyone. His hand was resting on your thigh, squeezing it gently every so often.

It was getting late, the sun had set and the guests were getting more and more drunk. The music slowed and the couples swayed together, some kissing and holding each other tight.

"So," Elijah whispered in your ear. "How are you feeling about tonight?"

"I can't wait," you said, turning to look at him. "I just can't wait for us to start our lives together,"

"Me either, sweetheart," he said, brushing his lips against your temple. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I want this." You placed a hand on his cheek. "More than anything."

He let out a long sigh, his hand squeezing your thigh tighter. But he didn't say anything else.

After a moment, he stood up and held out his hand.

"Dance with me?"

You took his hand and he led you out to the dance floor. You wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands rested on your hips.

The two of you danced slowly to the music, lost in each other's eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked him, breaking the silence.

"Nothing." He replied, smiling softly, looking away.

You narrowed your eyes. "Don't lie to me, Mr. Mikaelson."

He chuckled. "Fine. I'm thinking about how beautiful you are, and how lucky I am."

"I'm the lucky one," you whispered, leaning in and kissing him softly.

The two of you continued slow dancing and you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"I'm nervous," He admitted, softly his hands running up and down your back.

You lifted your head and looked up at him. "Why?"

"I don't want to see you die," He looked into your eyes, and you could see the pain behind them. "I don't want to watch the light leave your eyes, and not be able to do anything about it."

You cupped his cheek and stroked it. "I'll come right back, Elijah. You have nothing to worry about."

He nodded, then leaned in and kissed you, soft and slow. His hands on your hips, slowly guiding you, the two of you still moving to the music.

After a few minutes, he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours.

"I don't think I'm capable of not worrying about you." He said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

"Well," You whispered, smiling up at him. "That's something we have in common, then."

His hands were on your lower back, his fingertips tracing patterns on the soft fabric.

"Do you remember when we met?" He asked, looking down at you.

"I do." You said, giggling. "It was the most cliché thing ever, but I remember it like it was yesterday."

"You were wearing a green dress." He recalled. "You were trying to get a book from the top shelf at this little bookstore. You had climbed onto a chair and were stretching your arm as far as you could, but you just couldn't reach it. And I thought, 'that's the most adorable thing I've ever seen'."

You laughed, remembering how flustered you'd been. "And then, I dismissed your attempt to help me as being creepy,"

"Until you tripped over your own feet and fell into my arms." He reminded you, a smirk on his face.

"You caught me, though." You whispered.

"That I did," he murmured. "And I will always catch you."

You stood on your tiptoes, kissing him softly. "I'm glad," you said.

His hands moved lower, grabbing your ass, and pulling you closer. You blushed and looked around quickly, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention to you.

"I remember something else about the day we met," he whispered in your ear.

You looked up at him and smiled. "What?"

"How you looked in my bed that night, the soft little moans you made," he teased.

You bit your lip, a wave of arousal washing over you. The memory still fresh in your mind.

"You have a way of making me lose all sense," you said, breathlessly.

"I know," he smirked, his eyes sparkling, "I've got you right where I want you."

You giggled, burying your face in his chest, breathing in his scent.

"You are so bad," you whispered.

He hummed in agreement, squeezing your ass once more, causing you to let out a little squeak.

"We should say goodbye to our guests," he murmured. "There is a car waiting,"

You nodded and let him guide you around, saying goodbye to all the guests. They followed the two of you out to the courtyard, and then they began throwing rice and rose petals, while the two of you got into the waiting car.

As the car drove away, the guests cheered and you couldn’t help the huge grin on your face, waving at them until they were out of sight.

Elijah's hand rested on your thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. You rested your head on his shoulder, watching the city go by.

"So, are you going to tell me where we are going?" You asked, glancing at him.

"There's this lakehouse, about an hour from here. It's a quiet, private place, not even my siblings know about it." He said, pulling your hand into his lap.

"You didn't tell anyone about it?" You asked, a little shocked.

"Not a soul," he said, smiling. "I've had a few secret hideaways over the years, but this one is special."

"Why is that?" You asked.

"It's where I go to get away from everything, to clear my head and recharge," he explained. "And now, it's going to be our special place,"

"That's sweet," you said, kissing his cheek.

The drive seemed to take forever, but finally the car turned onto a long driveway. Elijah helped you out of the car, and then he scooped you into his arms.

"You are such a romantic," you said, giggling.

"I try," he teased, carrying you inside.

He set you down in the entryway, and then took your hand, leading you around. It was a gorgeous home, and it was obvious that Elijah had put a lot of work into it.

But he didn't give you much time to admire it, before he was on you, quickly dragging you to the bedroom.

His hands roaming your body, his mouth crashing onto yours, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Don't you dare rip my wedding dress Mr. Mikaelson," you breathed.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, his hands gently tugging the fabric.

You giggled and pushed him away, holding his gaze, then you turned and looked over your shoulder at him, motioning to the buttons going down your back.

His fingers deftly undid the small buttons, taking his time, as if he was savoring each one. He kissed along the back of your neck and shoulders, pushing the straps of the dress off, and letting it fall to the ground.

His hands went to your waist, helping you step out of the dress, and he knelt down, picking it up and placing it carefully on a nearby chair.

"Such a gentleman," you said, softly.

His gaze roamed over your body, admiring the way the lingerie clung to your skin, accentuating every curve.

"Gorgeous," he said, stepping closer, his fingers tracing along the boning of the corset.

Your hands went to his chest, reaching up to undo his bowtie. He watched your hands, his eyes darkening with desire.

You tossed the tie aside, and began unbuttoning his shirt. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, your hands continuing their path.

When you got to his pants, you stopped, a wicked grin spreading across your face. You ran your finger along his waistband, teasing him.

He groaned and picked you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck.

In an instant you were on the bed, the speed of vampires never ceased to amaze you. You lay there, looking up at him, your hair fanning out around your head, and you couldn't help but grin.

"Will you teach me to do that?" You asked, referring to the vamp speed.

He chuckled, leaning down and kissing your cheek. "Of course, my love. I will teach you everything you need to know."

You smiled, then reached up and pulled him down, crushing your lips together. He pressed his hips against yours, and you could feel the bulge in his pants.

"What else can you teach me?" You whispered, biting your lip and looking into his eyes, trying to look all sweet and innocent.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, his eyes darkening. "Lots of things."

You ran a hand through his hair, tugging lightly. "I can't wait."

He grinned and leaned in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands moving all over your body, caressing and squeezing.

"But first I'm going to take this corset off." He said, his fingers trailing down your chest and finding the ribbons. "I'm going to untie it slowly, and then I'm going to kiss every inch of your skin."

You let out a small gasp, his words sending a wave of arousal through you. He pressed his hips harder against your hand, still working to slowly untie the first ribbon.

"I'm going to make you come all over my tongue," He said, his voice raspy and low, working on loosening the second ribbon, pulling it free. "Over," He tugged on the third, "And over," the fourth, "And over."

You moaned, his words making you dizzy, and he grinned, pulling the last ribbon loose.

The corset fell away, and Elijah quickly pulled it from you, tossing it aside. His hands were on your breasts immediately, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, causing them to harden.

He lowered his head, his tongue flicking out and swirling around one nipple, before sucking it into his mouth.

You were panting, your hands gripping the sheets, watching as he made his way down, slowly removing your panties. He kissed his way up your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.

He looked up at you and smirked, then slowly lowered his head, groaning as he licked a broad stroke over your pussy.

You gasped, arching your back, pushing yourself closer to him. He chuckled, his hands gripping your thighs, pushing them further apart, his tongue teasing and licking at your clit.

You were in heaven. The sounds he was making, the way he was devouring you, it all felt incredible. You couldn't help the moans and whimpers escaping from your throat, only fueling him on.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight of him between your legs, the way his gaze would meet yours sent a thrill through you. He looked so content and satisfied, his eyes hooded, his tongue working you expertly.

He suddenly slipped a finger inside you, curling it against your walls, searching for that sweet spot. When he found it, he smirked, picking up the pace of his tongue lapping at your clit.

You came undone in seconds. Your walls clenched around his finger and your back arched, crying out his name.

He lifted his head, staring up at you, his eyes black. He licked his lips and winked at you, two of his fingers still pumping in and out of you.

He looked down at your flushed face and swollen lips, watching your body coming down from your high. You were always so beautiful after an orgasm. He could always coax these little spasms out of you afterwards, making you moan even more.

"I love you." He whispered. "My perfect wife."

With a wicked smirk, he slid a third finger in, curling against your g-spot, a delighted squeak escaping your lips as you squeezed his fingers.

"I can't wait to spend eternity with you," He said, his voice slow and gruff, the pleasure overwhelming you. "Watching you come like this, every night."

He continued to pump his fingers, with firm and steady strokes, the pressure building and building. Your body began to tense again, your moans becoming louder and more desperate. He grinned, watching you fall apart for him.

Your body started to shake, the waves of pleasure hitting you again and again, as you came on his fingers. He captured your lips in a rough kiss, swallowing your moans.

You collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily, the aftershocks still rolling through you. Elijah leaned down and kissed your neck, nuzzling against you.

"My wife," he said, savoring the way it sounded.

You giggled, still feeling a bit floaty. You looked up at him, taking in the sight of him. He was so handsome, his dark hair slightly disheveled, his eyes shining with love and affection.

"My husband," you said, reaching up and brushing some hair out of his eyes.

He smiled, his hands tracing along your bare skin. "You don't have to turn tonight, if you're not ready,"

You shook your head, smiling. "No, I want to. I'm ready."

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice full of concern.

"Eli," you said, cupping his cheek. "I'll be okay,"

His expression turned a bit serious, his eyes flashing with worry.

"You're my whole world, I won't lose you," he said, kissing you deeply.

"You won't lose me," you said, softly.

"Promise?" He asked, his hand moving to your cheek, stroking it gently.

"I promise," you said, your heart fluttering.

He gently pushed your legs apart, his fingers stroking your thigh, the touch sending sparks through you.

"I will never let anything happen to you," he said, positioning himself between your legs.

"I know," you said, gasping when you felt him ease into you, slowly and gently.

"I love you," he said, leaning down and kissing your lips, as he began to move his hips, pushing himself deeper. "More than anything,"

"I love you, too." You gasped, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer.

One of his hands went to the small of your back, the other cradling behind your neck. He held you to him, forehead to forehead, his eyes boring into yours.

He rocked his hips, grinding against you, filling you completely. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, then his lips pressed against yours, whispering how much he loved you.

You felt as though your heart beats were the same, the way it was pounding in your chest, in time with his. The way he held you like this, close and tight, it was everything.

The heat and friction began building between you, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder. The air filled with the sounds of your moans and sighs, your bodies moving together.

You could feel another orgasm building, your breath coming in short, ragged pants. He seemed to sense this, his pace picking up, his eyes locked on yours.

"I want you to come with me," he said, his voice husky and low, as his hips drove into you, over and over.

"Yes," you whimpered, your fingers digging into his back, leaving crescent moon marks in his skin.

Together, you let go, your bodies trembling and shuddering, clinging to each other. He buried his face in your neck, groaning, his teeth scraping your skin.

You lay there for a few moments, holding each other, your breathing slowly returning to normal. His lips were still against your neck, his arms wrapped around you.

"Elijah?" You asked, hesitantly.

"Mmm?" He mumbled, not wanting to move.

"I know how I want to die," you said, quietly.

He pulled back, looking at you. ". . . You do?"

You nodded, chewing your bottom lip, you weren't sure if he would be willing to do this for you.

"I want you to drink from me," you said, softly.

His eyes widened, a look of shock on his face.

"I mean, only if you're okay with it. We can find a different way... You can just snap my neck like we originally planned... I just thought...," you said, quickly, starting to ramble.

He cut you off with a deep, passionate kiss.

"Are you sure?" He asked, once the kiss broke.

You nodded, a shy smile on your face.

"Absolutely."

"Alright, but if it gets too much, tell me. We can always stop," he said, his hand resting on your cheek.

"Okay," you said, nodding.

He sat up, leaning against the headboard, pulling you into his lap. His hands on your hips, he didn't move for a moment, just looked at you, a gentle smile on his lips.

"I'm ready Elijah... I want this," you said, cupping his face, and brushing your lips against his.

He kissed you softly, with pure tenderness and love. He looked into your eyes, and you could see the conflicting emotions running through him. Fear, happiness, sorrow, joy.

You stroked his cheek, reassuring him.

"I love you," he said, biting down on his wrist and bringing it to your lips.

"I love you, too," you whispered, taking his blood into your mouth, his free arm wrapping around your waist.

His wrist fell away, and he tilted his head, pressing his lips to yours. Then, he kissed a trail down your neck, stopping right over the vein.

You could feel the sharpness of his fangs, his mouth ghosting across your skin. His hands moved to your back, rubbing it soothingly. He was still hesitating.

Your hands gripped his chest, preparing for the sting of pain, the dark shroud of death that awaited you.

His fangs sank into you, and your body jerked. But the pain was fleeting, as the pleasure began to take over. His hands moved up and down your back, pulling you closer, his mouth working over the bite.

He was so gentle, and tender, the way he was holding you, caressing you. It made your heart swell with love, as the blood flowed from you.

He drank slowly, savoring the taste of your blood, listening to your heart beating slower, your breathing becoming shallower.

He could feel your life force slipping away, the blood no longer rushing through your veins. He felt an almost uncontrollable fear, and he had to fight the urge to let go.

You began to drift away, darkness creeping around the edge of your vision. Your eyes fluttered shut, your heart skipping a beat, before it came to a complete stop.

He pulled his mouth away, and pressed his forehead to yours, his tears falling on your face.

He let out a choked sob, the anguish of losing you was too much. He knew you would return, but in this place of nothingness, the void, it was all too real.

Your body was cuddled into his, your head resting in his shoulder, the wound on your neck still oozing blood.

He closed his eyes, and focused on the future, of all the things he would teach you. The places he would take you. The adventures you would have.

He was going to make the most of this eternity with you.

It didn't take long for your heart beat to return, or for you to stir. Your eyes opened slowly, blinking against the light.

"Eli?"

He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Welcome back," he said, smiling.

You returned his smile, snuggling against him, and sighing.

"How do you feel?" He asked, his arms tightening around you.

"Hungry."

He laughed, stroking your hair. "I have just the thing for that,"

You nodded, sitting up, and looking at him. He looked tired, his eyes rimmed with red, his hair tousled.

"Have you been crying?" You asked, gently.

He nodded, looking a little embarrassed.

You kissed him softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"It's alright, my love. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere," you whispered, pressing your forehead to his.

"Good," he said, letting out a shaky breath.

He held you, his hands stroking your back, your hair.

You lay there for a while, in the safety of his arms, before he pulled away, and smiled at you.

He reached for a blood bag he had gotten ready, and handed it to you. You tore into the bag, and drank deeply. You hadn't realized how thirsty you were, until you tasted the blood. It was sweet, and thick, and it was exactly what you needed.

He watched your eyes turn black, dark veins snaking underneath them, and smiled. You were beautiful.

When you were done, he tossed the bag aside, and wrapped his arms around you again.

"So, what happens now?" You asked, your eyes searching his.

"We live.”

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coryndoll · 2 months ago

Text

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: girl bye this whole part is just screaming n crying omg be prepared

prev next

authors note: wanted to make a little unexpected visit at the end given his character but yk 😋 let me know if u arent on the tag list yet !! interact w me thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

long story short, the group collectively agree to postpone this dinner night because of what happened. just as you left the restroom, drew was gone and were instead met by leila who told you they were leaving to eat at the pearl some other time.

you feel terrible that they had to witness what they did, and you assume they must’ve seen you and drew talking in the hallway for them to make this decision. they know something’s wrong between you two, and you almost break on the spot. it’s like the whole plan is crashing down and you don’t know what to do, how to move forward.

you and drew travel in different cars on the way home but to end off the night, the group splits up. some dress down and head back to explore the town at night or there are others who choose to stay home, just keep a respectful distance.

you rid of your clothes and step into the shower to collect your thoughts, and it takes everything in you not to cry from frustration. the steam curls around you, the hot water beating down your back like it’s trying to wash the weight of everything away—but it doesn’t.

no amount of heat or scrubbing can erase the guilt, regret, and shame that engulf you.

when you finally step out, your skin is red from the heat, and you wipe a hand over the fogged mirror, catching a glimpse of your own tired reflection. your new clothes cling to your still-damp skin, and your hair hangs heavy and wet down your back.

when you step out of the bathroom, the cool air bites at your skin, but that’s not what makes you freeze. you see him—drew—walking toward your shared room. he’s freshly showered, his hair slightly wet, and you realize he must’ve used the bathroom across the hall that gia and roman share.

for a split second, your eyes meet, and you have to bite down on your emotions, hard, before you can speak. before you can let it all flood out.

you get to the door first, quietly letting yourself in, then leaving it open so he comes in too. the air between you feels heavy—like there are words unsaid. you can hear the faint sound of music downstairs, theo’s voice talking low, maybe to leila, but it’s distant. they must be trying to let you talk without feeling like you need to worry.

you step into the room, moving toward the dresser on your side of the room. your hand rests on top of it, gripping the edge for balance, as if the solid wood can keep you grounded. your back is to him, but you can hear him enter. he stands there for a moment, probably watching you, probably waiting for you to say something.

the silence is unbearable.

“why didn’t you just tell me?”

your voice comes out quietly, almost too low for him to hear. you don’t turn around, your eyes focused on the lamp in the corner of the room, as if looking anywhere but at him will keep you from falling apart. your hand tightens on the dresser as you wait for him to answer.

you hear him shuffle behind you, his breath catching like he didn’t expect you to speak first. “i . . . i don’t know,” he says, his voice just as quiet as yours. “i didn’t want to hurt you.”

you swallow hard, blinking rapidly as the familiar burn of tears threatens again. you know he’s trying to be honest, but that answer—it’s not enough. it doesn’t fix anything.

“you didn’t want to hurt me?” your voice wavers, and you finally turn, facing him. he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you like he doesn’t know how to fix the mess he’s made. “this wasn’t even just a few days either. this has been weeks—weeks of us talking, planning, pretending . . . and the whole time, you were lying.”

as you walk over to him, he opens his mouth to respond, but you can see the guilt weighing him down, making it impossible for him to speak right away.

“not only were you lying to them,” you gesture loosely, meaning the others, everyone, “but you were lying to me.” you point to your chest as your voice cracks, weak and filled with betrayal.

his face tilts slightly to the side, and though he’s staring at you, his eyes are glossing over. you can see the weight of what he’s done finally sinking in, and it’s tearing him apart. he swallows hard, his throat tight.

“i didn’t mean to,” he whispers, his voice trembling now. “i never wanted—”

but he stops, his words catching in his throat, and you can see the tears threatening to spill. his jaw tightens as he forces himself to keep looking at you, even though it’s breaking him inside.

“no, but you did,” you tell him. “you made this decision. you created this plan when you had mila back home, drew.”

he winces at her name. you can see it. but you don’t stop.

every day, every conversation, every moment you’ve spent together, he knew. and he said nothing.

your words slow down though, and the weight of them sinks in deeper. “i had finally gotten to a point after we broke up where i felt like i was free of us,” you say, voice quieter now, but raw. “i didn’t have to worry about things like this anymore. i was finally done with us.”

drew’s lips part like he’s about to say something, but he can’t, and you don’t give him the chance. “but here i am.” you let out a short, breathless laugh, as though even you can’t believe the mess you're in. “i mean, i didn’t think agreeing to this plan was going to work out perfectly, but—”

you stop, searching for the words, your throat tight with emotion. it takes everything in you to keep from crying. you look away from him, your voice going numb, the exhaustion seeping through. “but i didn’t think i’d end up feeling like this. like none of it ever really ended.”

you stand there for a moment, letting the weight of everything hang between you two. you wipe at the corner of your eye, then shake your head slightly, more in disbelief than anything else.

“so why?” you ask, “why didn’t you just tell me? why didn’t you say something from the beginning, when we started this whole thing?"

he looks at you, his jaw clenching, but his eyes are filled with guilt. he takes a deep breath, his face turned slightly to the side like he's trying to hold himself together.

“i fell in love with you,” he says, and you scoff. oh, he’s just now fallen in love? he realizes his mistake and gets up when you start to walk away, but he grabs you by the arms, “no, no, no, y/n please, i fell in love with this life—being with you again. i didn’t want to lose that. i’m still in love with you. i always have been. i just realized it too late.”

you can’t believe him. “but you did lose it, drew.” your voice is quieter now, but no less intense. “you lost it the moment you decided to lie. you didn’t just ruin this plan, this stupid fake relationship.”

you shrug him off of you.

“i thought,” your voice cracks, “i thought telling our friends the truth would make everything worse. i was so scared they’d feel like they had to walk on eggshells around us, like it’d be awkward if they knew what happened. but you know what? i wish i’d just told them. instead of this. instead of . . . all of this.”

“and it’s not just about mila,” you say, “even when you’re supposed to be my fake boyfriend, you’re still making decisions for me. you speak for me, like you always know better, like i can’t speak for myself.” you can feel your frustration bubbling to the surface, the heat rising in your chest as you push forward. “it’s like . . . no matter what happens, you still feel like you need to control everything.”

drew’s mouth opens slightly, like he’s about to respond, but you can’t stop now. the words tumble out, each one hitting you harder than the last.

“i mean, do you know how exhausting that is?” your voice rises, and you can feel your emotions slipping, coming out faster than you can stop them. “you made up the plan, you pulled back the moment i was getting comfortable again, even our breakup was your decision.”

his expression hardens, and you can see the conflict raging behind his eyes. “i thought we agreed there wasn’t any point in keeping up something that was barely there,” he says. “we were hardly talking or communicating, y/n. i mean, trying to keep up a relationship for us that wasn’t even really there? was it . . . do you think it would’ve been better if we didn’t break up? i mean—”

“yes! yes, it was worth it! i didn’t care if we weren’t always together!” you blink, caught off guard for just a second, but the fire inside you flares back to life. “and you said there wasn’t any point; not me. we’re busy people, drew, lives like ours don’t get spent every day how these two weeks are supposed to be. you have to know that. so i’m sorry that you felt enough was enough for us but you shouldn’t have had to decide what you thought was best for both of us and make that decision on your own without telling me!”

as you speak, you notice the way his face shifts, confusion and regret flickering in his eyes.

you exhale, shutting your eyes. “trust me, i spent nights worrying about us when we were together, replaying every moment, every doubt.” your voice lowers, becoming more vulnerable, almost a whisper. “and i told myself, ‘okay, that’s normal. that’s normal maybe. so you didn’t get a fairytale relationship; grow up.’”

“but i understood that . . . no matter what, i wouldn’t have left you because i loved you,” you cry, “i stayed because that’s what you do when you love someone.”

drew’s face crumbles at your words, and his gaze drops to the floor. you take a deep breath, steadying yourself as you meet his gaze again. “look, i’m not going to say anything to anyone about mila,” you say. “but you need to figure this out, how we move on from here, and whether you’re going to tell her about this plan because i’m not gonna keep doing it if she’s not comfortable with it.”

drew nods slowly. he’s quiet, visibly processing everything. “i’ll do it,” he says, almost to himself, but you nod anyway. he takes a shuddering breath, his voice barely above a whisper as he finally speaks. “i didn’t mean to lose you,” he says, staring at the ground. “but i did. i know that now.”

you watch him for a moment, the weight of his confession hanging between you, before you turn away. your hand reaches for the door, and this time, you don’t hesitate.

“yeah, you did,” you whisper, voice broken as you open the door and hurry through, leave him standing there alone. “you did.”

drew stands there, frozen in place as the silence settles around him. he watches when you walk away until the laughter from outside fades into a distant echo, and he sinks down onto the edge of the bed, his body heavy with regret.

“—fucking—” he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible. he leans forward, elbows digging into his thighs, and cradles his head in his hands while tears spill from his eyes. in that moment, he’s completely alone, engulfed by the realization that he pushed away the one person who mattered most.

“i’m gonna be back, okay?” libby tells you. you’re sitting in her bed, her and leila feeling like it’s only reasonable for her to step up, and she would’ve no matter what.

“hey,” you say before she goes, your fingers reaching her arm. she halts, looking at you again as she settles back down on the edge of the bed. “thank you for letting me sleep here tonight.”

she gives you a knowing look. “there’s no need y/n. my job is to make sure you’re comfortable and okay. your job is to get under my covers and drool on my pillows ‘til morning.”

“shut up,” you murmur and consider whacking her in the face with one of said pillows, but she leans forward to give you a hug. it’s gentle at first, and you’re relieved to feel a warmth from someone at a time like this. you feel like you can stay there forever, but she pulls away to leave the room.

there’s a knock at the door that startles you a bit, and you wait anxiously for who’s behind it. they open it quietly and peek their head in—roman?

he lets himself inside with cautious steps, and before you can speak he shushes you.

“keep it down, stupid,” he says, and you furrow your eyebrows at him. he takes maybe two steps forward and then stops there. “i just wanted to say sorry for not saying anything before at the peel.”

“the pearl.” you nod, your lips pursed. “thanks.”

he deadpans at you. “i don’t do this very often so i’d appreciate more than just a thanks, you kn—” he pauses to rephrase his words, and you can see the gears shift in his head. he sighs. “i fully saw that you were upset and i didn’t do anything. part of it was because i didn’t know if i should’ve but the other was that the food was just really good—”

“roman,” you try to tell him to get out, but he persists.

“no,” he tells you. he tries to search for the right words before continuing, “i’m just sorry. i don’t want to make it seem like i don’t care or that you don’t have anybody to talk to. and i’m not gonna jump the gun or be all enthusiastic the next time this happens but . . . i just won’t be quiet anymore.”

you’re taken aback by roman’s unexpected display of concern. you can’t tell if you’re imagining this. this has to be the first time you’ve probably ever known him that he’s being like this. but you nod slowly, absorbing his words. “thank you, roman,” you say softly, appreciating the effort he’s making. “it means a lot that you care.”

he shifts on his feet, clearly uncomfortable with the emotional territory but pressing on anyway. “good,” he replies, his voice a little firmer. “because i might not always show it, but i do care. just . . . don’t think you have to go through stuff alone, alright? we’re friends, i guess, even if i don’t always act like it.”

you smile faintly, still surprised that he’s even still standing there. “i get it. i appreciate you saying something.”

“goodnight, y/n,” he says. just as he’s about to leave, he glances back, a knowing look in his eyes. “and just so you know, i get that things are complicated with starkey, but it’s pretty obvious you two aren’t really together. you don’t have to pretend around me.”

your heart skips a beat, and you feel a rush of vulnerability. how much does he really know? but before you can question him further, he’s already slipping out the door.

at the same time, libby slides past him with mugs of hot cocoa, “ew, what are you doing here?” she says to roman, avoiding him like he’s her brother. “get out of here.”

she kicks the door closed behind her, and her mood switches to a smile. “what was all that about? oh my god— did he hurt you? did he infect you?” she asks, feigning concern as she plops down next to you and handing you a mug. you take the mug and just shake your head with a grin.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @icaqttt @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @cl4uus @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @ilyrafe @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi @matthewswifeeee @uwuemlwlrld @l4venderia @chenslucy @darkreymbow @congratsloserr @skyslowalking @behindviolettwrites @allthoughtsmindfull

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 3 months ago

Note

OMG no way are you going to write an AU of Daemon's visions at Harrenhal??? I know its AAAAAGES away from where you are in the current story but desperate hos wanna kno ;)

Ask, and ye shall receive!

until i bleed myself dry

Note: This is technically using the characters/characterisation I have established in my terms of endearment series, but really you only need to know that the Reader is Rhaenyra's younger sister and that, instead of marrying Laena, he spent a decade ho-ing it up in Pentos before coming home and getting dazzled by his niece before deciding to wife dat gurl.

WARNING: Please note this is dark, dark stuff. Discretion is advised. Please use your judgement wisely before engaging.

Triggers: graphic depictions of violence, violence against children, character d*ath, MAJOR hallucinations, sexual scenes including visibly underaged character/s.

There is something fucking wrong with this place.

Daemon feels like a skittish child as he withdraws to his chambers, covers drawn up to his neck like the fabric will keep away the very worst of midnight evils. He does not know if the steady drip, drip, drip he hears is in his head or if the stone ceiling is cracked enough to let through the rain. Knowing Harrenhal, he would hardly be surprised by the latter. Still, the noise only serves to speed the racing of his thoughts, turning them fearful as he has not felt since the weakness of his youth.

In this moment, he curses his own doings. If he had stayed his hand—if he had held his tongue—the boy would not be dead, and mayhaps you would not be so wroth with him. He would not be alone in this shithole of a keep a world away, chilled to the bone and miserable as he thinks of you warm and safe in your bed with the children. Without him.

When he finally falls asleep, he dreams.

He knows it is a dream, for he can hear your humming. Soft, sweet, the kind of tune you sing to Daeryx after one of his tantrums. His head lifts from the pillow and he finds himself back in your shared rooms on Dragonstone, eyes finding you in the chair by the hearth. Your hair, unbound, shines like molten amber in the firelight, swaying softly as you tend to business that is concealed from his gaze. Enthralled, he rises, making his way to you.

Drip, drip, drip.

He pauses. That sound… it doesn’t belong here. He calls your name. You ignore him. He moves closer, tentative.

“Come look,” you murmur suddenly, startling him. “Come, kepus.”

His feet move unbidden, out of his control.

Bile pools at the back of his throat, gut curdling at the sight of the boy—the boy—cradled in your lap. You and he are wet with blood, and it drip, drip, drips to the floor, echoing eerily. His eyes are open, face petrified, and Daemon realises that the dark at his neck is not in fact a shadow but a gaping wound, made jagged by the weapon used.

You look up at him, skin shining with sweat and expression exultant. “Look at him, kepus. Look at what you made.”

Memory flashes—he brings his son back down to rest beside his daughter on your lap, two moonshine miracles side by side. “Look at them, kepus,” you whisper, spellbound. “Look at what we made”—and his lungs constrict. You make to lift the child up, but the movement jostles his head off its perch, and it rolls to the ground to stop by his feet. He cannot move. He is frozen, horrified.

You smile, tucking the headless corpse under your chin. Gore pulses against your throat as your chin settles to the yawning maw of the child’s open neck. You rock in your seat, a faint squelch each time your shifting weight disturbs the sodden cushion beneath you.

“I love him,” you whisper, lips pressing to where flesh meets innards. Your mouth comes away red. “I love him so much.”

Daemon awakens with a yell. He swallows once, twice, and then—

He leans over the side of the bed, retching violently. When it is over, he curls up on his side, shaking, staring at his hands. They are wet with blood.

It does not take long for terror to settle in his bones like a longtime companion. It follows him each day, in every waking moment, manifesting in strange visions that he knows—he knows—must be untrue, cannot possibly be real, and yet… And yet. There is a sort of verity in them.

Dark Sister feels like a leaden weight at his hip as he stalks the keep, a reminder of his earlier encounter with Rhaenyra. Only she was not the Rhaenyra he knows, and instead a strange sort of blend of child-queen, the face of the girl peering out accusingly from under her father’s too-large crown, exclaiming all manner of hurt as she stepped from the Iron Throne upon which she perched.

“You put me on that throne. And you love me, and you hate me for it. You created me, Daemon. Yet you are now set on destroying me. All because your brother loved me more than he did you.”

And, without warning, he had taken his blade up in arms and struck off her head, a puppet on strings pulled by another. As her body fell, it morphed into the boy again. Jaehaerys. The child he had murdered. He heard your humming even while Simon Strong’s voice filtered through his unconscious mind, alerting him of the raven that just arrived.

The healer woman’s concoctions have helped little. He still wakes to strange noises, still finds himself stalking after his monstrous one-eyed nephew down the halls, only to find that it is himself he is pursuing. He hears the words you yelled at him in that last great quarrel— “get away, leave before you turn on us and murder us like you murdered that boy”—interspersed with the sound of your screams, and perhaps they are the screams you let out when birthing his children, or perhaps they are screams of a different kind, a version of himself making good on the implication of your words, steel in hand and pursuing his love, his life, his blood—

These figments blur with reality to the point that he becomes unsure of what is before him and what exists only in his head to haunt him. He comes to dread the resting hours, only to find their horrors bleeding into daylight. Whatever strange power has come to roost in his mind serves only to bring him torment.

Perhaps this is why he is not immediately suspicious when he comes face-to-face with you once more.

You stand by the window, the dim light filtering weakly over your bare form. Your back is to him, curls spilling to brush the tops of your buttocks. Their gentle sway—the barest kiss to your skin—is tantalising, and his mouth dries even as he watches your neck crane, sly smile tossed back over your shoulder at him.

“Daemon,” you beckon. Like a cuntstruck fool, he is helpless to resist the call.

His hands settle to the familiar divots of your waist, up and up and up to cup the fullness of your tits. You lean into him, a quiet huff of pleasure escaping as his fingers squeeze and his lips fall unbidden to the slope of your jaw. He inhales deeply, stirred even now by the simplicity of your scent, a throbbing line straight to his groin. You turn in his hold, nose nuzzling against his chin.

“You were right,” you say, eyes shining. “You were always right.”

He is under some enchantment, surely, for he is incapable of coherent speech. All he can do is feel the satisfaction heat his veins, allow it to tug at the corner of his mouth. I knew it, he thinks. I knew her will would bend eventually.

You speak still, even as he backs you toward the bed. “Papa was weak. Rhaenyra is weak. Only you are the true blood of the dragon.”

You shift backward onto the mattress, legs parting invitingly. The split of you opens, revealing flushed folds and the teasing glimmer of want, shining slick for his hungered gaze.

“Fearless”—your hand trails down your belly, fingers tracing around your pearl—“brave”—you venture lower, pressing teasingly at your cunt, your lip caught between your teeth—“strong.”

Daemon drops to his knees before you, tongue licking through the spill and catching on your finger. He bullies it out of the way, arms locking around your thighs as he gluts himself on the sweet tang of you, senses clouding and narrowing to a singular point of existence. You grip his hair, the arches of your feet digging against his back.

“It is not my place to question you,” you breathe, twisting and writhing with his ministrations. He watches your face, enraptured by the toss of your head and the shape of your lips as they form moan after moan. Your release is quick, a final sobbing yelp followed by a flood of slick warmth. When your eyes reopen, they are blazing with reverence. Reverence for him. Your knees flex up, your lower half folded almost to your chest. Your cunt contracts, fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. “I live to serve you, my king.”

His head feels heavy as he rises just barely to crawl over you. He frowns. When he lifts his hand to extricate yours from his hair, he finds not flesh, but cool metal. A crown.

“My king,” you coo below him.

Your surroundings are changed. It is not the meagre offerings of Harrenhal that frame you now, but the sumptuous trimmings of the king’s chambers in the Red Keep, only brighter, more lavish than they ever have been. Jewels sparkle at your throat, in your hair, at your wrists. The sheets are molten gold against your silver-pale, and you wind your hips up at him provocatively, catching his cockhead against your opening.

“You belong on the throne, husband,” you say, fist closing around his shaft and pumping once, twice. You lead him back to the core of you, nudging him just inside. “Uncle. My love. And I belong at your side—at your feet—under your body.”

“My queen,” he gasps, driving forward with a grunt, and oh, he has missed you, missed this, missed the clutch of your walls like a mother’s embrace and the sound of your breathy cries as he plunges deep. Plunges home.

“My king,” you call out, rising into him with unrestrained abandon, precious gems clinking frantically with each fevered hitch of his hips against yours. “My lord. My master. I was made for you.”

“Yes…”

“Chain me to this bed, my king.” Your spine arches toward him, hands grabbing for his own and leading them above your head. He takes this for the encouragement it is, pinning your wrists to the pillow and rutting harder. You shout, elbows flexing to no avail. “Give to me my purpose. Give me your heirs.”

He is helpless to stop the noises escaping his mouth, feral and uninhibited, fucking with near painful intent. You take it all, curving yourself deeper, holding yourself more open so that he may lay claim to his conquest. As only a king can.

“And when I have birthed one,” you say, though now it is more a prolonged keening sound, “give me another. Never stop. Oh! Make me—make me take it—”

He does not know if he is imagining it or if it is happening before his eyes, but he can see it: ruling the Seven Kingdoms, sitting the Iron Throne the way his brother never could, striding down the halls of the keep as the commons bow and scrape to their sovereign, bursting into his chambers after small council to find his queen, to find you where you always are, naked in his bed and belly round and leaking milky white between your thighs, for it is his kingly law that the only part you play here is this, waiting for him to find you and fuck you and fill you and keep you, his little niecewifequeenpet—

He snarls, pulsing and burning. You squeal as he pushes past onslaught and straight to violence, bodies colliding so forcefully that his bones ache and his brain feels like jelly wobbling in his skull. What leaves his mouth can only be bestial in nature now. “I’ll make you—”

“Yes, make me take it until I cannot. Until my cunt is ruined by you.” He feels his end rushing up with every word you wail, his joints locking and grinding and gut roiling with the anticipation of it. “Until my womb is destroyed. Until I bleed myself dry, my king. Only for you.”

“Wha—”

The horror of it escapes him, for it is too late: the release crashes on him like a tidal wave, shoving him below its surface and imprisoning him in its current. He makes a noise like a wounded boar, chasing through the high despite the alarm in his mind, so at odds with the soaring rhythm in his loins.

You laugh, tilting welcomingly to receive him. “Make me bleed, my king. Make me bleed like my mother.”

It is enough to chill the heat in his blood to ice, destroying any semblance of enjoyment. But he cannot stop the unsteady eking out of what remains of his peak. He tries, but he cannot stop.

“No,” he says, a contradiction to the enthusiasm of his flesh prison. “No, no, I cannot. No—”

“What do you mean?” you ask, a strange quality to it. A duality. It crystallises into something comprehensible with every word that comes from your lips. All at once, it is not your voice he hears, but something much higher, younger, blending and overlapping with the cadence he recognises. “You already have.”

He looks down as he makes his final groaning thrusts, only to feel his stomach drop through the floor. Your thighs are soaked in blood, his cock sluicing a path through it all the while. All that flesh covered in red, and he glances up, only to see that you are gone, you are replaced by someone so small, so frightfully small, and he realises you are not replaced, it is you, but it is a you he has not seen for well over ten years, eyes wide and frightened and gleaming like game stuck through by an arrow and taking its final breath.

Daemon rears back, but it is too late. You begin to cry. A dark patch spreads out from underneath your broken body, from where he had torn your fragile opening apart. What have I done? he thinks.

“It hurts, kepus,” you say. “It hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, fixed to stillness by revulsion. “I’m sorry. I never meant to—”

“But you did,” you insist, childish pout despite your obvious agony.

Your hands reach out, and he leans away, too horrified to touch you—and he doesn’t know if it is you or he that he is more afraid of in this moment—but you are not searching through the air for him, no. Instead, a bundled weight is settled in them, and you bring it into the crook of your arms, gripping it as though it is the most precious of objects. You smooth the fabric from the top of it to reveal a tiny head of silver hair. The babe gurgles and roots at your flat chest, absurd and awful.

“This is what you wanted,” you say, eyes filled with betrayal. “Am I going to die now, kepus?”

Your Grace…

He shakes his head, but he is no fool. You are too little to withstand the sheer volume of blood you have lost if the bedding is anything to go by. He feels it stain his legs. He feels it drying on his cock.

“Your Grace?”

“I will, though. I’m too young. You’ve killed me.” The babe begins to suckle, and you cry harder. Your body isn’t built for this task, not yet, not like this. He wants to protest, to tell you that this is not his work, cannot be, for he has and would never do something so foul, so wholly inhuman, that the you he has gotten with child has only ever been a woman grown, but it is like you know his thoughts for you scoff and say, “You’re lying to yourself. I was always too young. You just refused to see it.”

He stares down at you, immobile, unable to even think. The metallic scent of your life leaving you fills the air, floods his nostrils with stinging heat.

“… Your Grace?”

Daemon jolts, blinking. Ser Simon Strong looks back at him. “Is the duck not to your liking, Your Grace?”

All at once, you are gone. The king’s chambers are gone. He is not even within his dank chambers at Harrenhal. Instead, he sits at the table in what passes for the dining hall here, a plate full of food steaming before him. The smell makes him ill.

“There’s also goose, if you’d prefer…”

He swallows, trying to ground himself in the present. Voices waft all around him, but he finds it difficult to pay attention.

“I’m not hungry,” he says shortly. It sounds stronger than he feels.

A pause, and then—

Simon clears his throat, turning to his companions. “I was saying, given the rather dire news…”

Daemon tries to concentrate. He does. He knows the others are speaking of matters of utmost importance. Of Rook’s Rest, of his nephew, of the war. But his mind can only turn over his encounter—his vision? His nightmare? Or is it merely truth finally unveiled to unworthy eyes?—with you, the last of your words haunting him near to madness.

“I was always too young. You just refused to see it.”

He has grown restless here, revolving between the frustration of securing an army from those who see naught in him but the very worst and the torment of these terrible visions that seek him out at their pleasure, heedless of his duty or desire. Tedium or terror—when he is entrenched in one, he wishes for the other, and there is always a sick sort of irony in the granting of said wishes. In truth, he is able enough to tolerate the resistance of these riverlanders, insulting as it is. The phantasms that pursue him have almost become too much to bear.

What is worse? The accusations from the mouth of a juvenile Rhaenyra, full of admonishments for the way he’d so thoroughly undermined her claim before she ever got the right to exercise it? The condemnations from Viserys, a retracing of steps trod so long ago, brought to life once more and forcing Daemon to relive the very worst of his brother? The boy’s laughter darting through the stone halls, an ominous prelude to the sickening sound of steel sawing through skin and the rolling of his head, landing always at the feet of the one responsible for his fate?

They are all bad enough as they are, but for the simple fact that they do not surprise him. Monster, they call him, and he wears the name well. In most all aspects, he is a monster. But never has he thought himself monstrous to you.

He has come to despise the sight of you here, sometimes docile and worshipful, sometimes angered and raving. Sometimes you appear as a siren come to lure him to iniquity, and like a fool he always falls into the trap. Other times, you are battered, caged, a shell of yourself. No matter how it begins, the end is always the same: bloodied, beaten, fading from the world, and it is always his hands he finds the cause of it in. A new reminder every time of all the ways he has thought of taking you, owning you, keeping you. Always, he thinks to save you—to protect you. Always, he destroys you.

Just as he thinks himself finally driven to the edge of all reason, the Rivers woman beckons him to the godswood.

“When you came here,” she says, “you were a closed fist. You wished to bend the world to your will. But you’ve discovered, I think, that… this world will not be governed. There are omens here for those who seek them.”

She pauses. The air seems to whisper, to creak in the dark. Daemon suppresses the urge to shiver. Her eyes move to him, an odd little quirk to her mouth. Amusement, he thinks. Or pity.

“You do not scoff?” she asks.

How can he, after all he has seen here? He has been brought to the very edge of sanity by these omens. What irony, it is, after the great complaints he has made of superstition in past weeks (and months, and years).

“I’m no longer inclined to,” is his short reply.

She laughs. “I’m pleased to hear it.”

She stops before the heart tree and turns to him, expression solemn.

“Do you wish, then, to learn what is given to you?” The answer must lie in his face, for he cannot do anything but stare, silent, tense. “All your life, you have sought to command your own fate”—she takes his hand—“but today, you are ready.”

Gentle pressure at his wrist, and something in him knows to move past her, to take those final few steps so that he is close enough to make out the details of the face carved into the wood. His arm raises by itself, acting on its own power, or perhaps some higher power, his fingers brushing bark and the hot pulse of… blood? But he has no time to truly question it for—

He is flying—

No—

He is a raven, staring at the face of a pale-haired man with a wine-dark stain on his face and he flies into the forest, towards an army, only there is something wrong with the soldiers, they are blue and their eyes glow ice-cold and their breath is frosted with death and their bodies carry the look of corpses stood upright once more—

And then the dragons are dead, all of them, the ground wet not with water but with blood and he walks through it, falls straight into the ground and he is drowning, steel plate armour dragging him down into the depths and he looks up at the sky—

A red comet bursts through the air, hot like fire, and he sees eggs embroiled in flame, a girl sat in ash cradling the bodies of three newly-hatched dragons, a whisper of a memory on the air, “we are the only ones able to bring the fire to life… It is the secret”—

And he is before the Iron Throne, suddenly silent.

Rhaenyra stands before the seat. Viserys’s crown is in his hands. She moves toward him, down the stairs of the throne. He hears her speak.

“From my blood…”

But she does not finish. A roaring conflagration engulfs her and she screams, twisting and warping before him, burning, only not, because you step from the flames, unburnt, voice mingling with that of your sister’s, a haunting echo.

“… come the Prince Who Was Promised…”

You are before him, taking the crown from his grasp and retracing the steps your sister took, and then you are stepping over a charred body, Rhaenyra, oh gods, and ascending the steps. You sit. You lift the crown. You place it on your head.

“… and his shall be the song of ice and fire.”

He is on his knees now, right on that final step at your feet. He feels the warmth of you as you bend forward, your palm caressing his jaw. You look otherworldly in the shadow, backlit silver and gold and wearing a king’s accoutrements far better than any of your predecessors.

“You know what must happen now, Uncle,” you say gently, kindly. “You know what you must do.”

He bows his head to kiss your ring—the seal of the king—no, the queen—and then wind is whistling in his ears, chilling him to the bone and spraying his hair about wildly, so much so that he can barely hear the words yelled at him by the boy sitting astride Vhagar.

“You have lived too long, nuncle.”

—and he wrenches away, panting, body collapsing before the heart tree like a puppet with its strings cut. The world comes back to him in fragments: the scent of dirt and woodlands, the sharp sting of cold, the ache in his muscles that has since settled like sludge at the bottom of a river, ever-present and persisting. Finally, finally, he withdraws with hands washed clean, free of his many sins.

At last, he has come to the crux of it. At last, he understands.

He sits at the base of the tree, stunned and overcome, as faint words slither on the breeze, a final knell from the liminal space of prophecy. Your name. A cheer.

“Long live the queen! Long live the queen!”

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mieluscious · 11 months ago

Text

you better move. gojo satoru

ෆ pairings : gojo satoru x female reader

ෆ genre : smut, pwp

ෆ word count : 3k3

ෆ warnings : mdni. bully roommate!gojo, sub!reader, fingering, teasing, orgasm denial (just once dw), degradation, rough sex, sextape, cockwarming, jealousy (reader is trying to make a random guy jealous and gojo's gonna help her), gojo is kinda soft at the end. . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

"fuck i hate him !" you tapped your foot angrily on the living room floor.

"what's wrong y/n. and where the fuck is your pants." gojo was watching wrestling on the tv but it was quite difficult since you were standing in front of it and it was slowly getting on his nerves.

"you know that guy i've been talking to for a few days ?" he nodded, spread his thighs and rested his back against the sofa, his eyes still focused on the tv. "he’s getting on my nerves so fucking much ! he's trying to make me jealous when all i want to do is fuck him and throw him away." you walked quickly towards gojo and showed him the screen of your phone. "look." gojo's eyes lazily moved to the video of the guy you're talking about kissing a girl at a frat party.

he turned his attention back to the tv. "why do you care if you just want to fuck." you pouted at his reaction, as if what you'd just shown him wasn't a big deal. your eyes fell on gojo's hand, which slipped under his shirt to scratch his stomach and you smiled devilishly when an idea suddenly came to you.

you moved a little closer and sat on him, he slowly lifted his face towards yours with a questioning look. "what are you doing y/n." you opened the camera app on your phone and pulled his shirt up over his chest. you put your warm hand on his abs and gojo raised his hips with you on it to reposition himself on the sofa.

you took a photo but since he moved the result was blurred. you pinched the skin of his stomach and he grunted. "argh stop moving." you took another picture and this time you were proud of you, we could clearly see that you were sitting right on top of his clothed cock and your hand were caressing his abs. you sent it to the mf.

"are you done now ?" you looked up at gojo and his gaze was bored. you stuck out your tongue and smiled at him. he rolled his eyes before bringing his attention back to the tv.

you flinched slightly when your phone rang faster than expected. you grabbed gojo's face. "omg he's saying my picture's fake who does he think i am?"

"well. it's fake y/n." he slapped your ass. "now move." gojo closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly to one side as he tried to contain his annoyance when you suddenly pressed your chest against his and ran a hand through his hair, choosing a good angle so that we could see your face and the back of gojo's head. he pulled the elastic band of your panties and let it snap against the skin of your hip. "move."

"shut up im almost done." gojo gasped silently when you brought your lips to his ear and bit down gently before taking another picture. you rested your elbows on either side of his head on the back of the sofa. typing rapidly on your phone. "he still doesn't seem to believe me huh." gojo's eyes fell on your ass and the way your hips rubbed against his dick without you realizing it, since you were too busy putting your little plan into action. "tf is wrong with him satoru i don't understand why-" you suddenly mewled as you felt gojo's tongue against your throat. he still had his head against the back of the couch and his legs spread a little wider wanting to give you more room on his cock. "w-what are you doing ?" your phone slipped out of your hand and gojo caught it before it fell to the ground, he threw it on the sofa and his hands slipped under your shirt, slowly caressing your back.

his tongue slipped from your collarbones to your chin. "didn't i tell you to move?" you were about to say you were sorry when one of his hands pinched the skin of your hip. "such a disrespectful girl." his other hand slid down your back to your ass. "using me for you little games mh ?"

"i-im sorry i told you i was almost done." his fingers rested on the fabric of your panties right at the entrance of your pussy. you threw your head back and firmly grasped his shirt over his shoulders. "i-i said i was sorry stop bullying me."

he raised his face to you with a smirk and tilted his head to the side. his hand, which had been on your hip, went up to your hair to undo your bun, your hair slipped down your shoulders and your back. you moaned prettily as you lowered your head back to gojo, his gaze sliding over your half-open mouth. "such a pretty girl like you, begging other guys to fuck her." you caught your lower lip between your lips and sighed a small sorry. his hand slipped down your neck and his lips pressed against your ear. "when she could just ask me."

your relationship with gojo was different from what you had with other boys, you've known him since highschool and you secretly always wanted him to fuck you but you never took that step. gojo was very popular at school and you never thought you could have a chance with him. and to be honest he didn't seem very interested in you from the way he behaved with you, he was always nonchalant and didn't seem to care about what you had to say most of the time. you didn't hate him, on the contrary, you found him amusing and you liked to tease him a lot.

his voice sent shivers down your spine and you closed your eyes, savoring the sensation. "you’re making fun of me." he brought his face towards you again, his nose almost touching yours.

you opened your eyes and flinched slightly at the sight of his gaze, his magnificent blue eyes were so dark and intimidating. "i think you're the one who's making fun of me." he tugged at the fabric of your panties, slamming them back against the entrance of your pussy. you moaned louder and immediately arched you back, your breasts pressed harder against his muscular chest. "look at me." you grabbed his shirt tighter, you were about to slip and your body was shaking because of him. you raised your gaze to his. "you walk around half naked in front of me and talk about other guys all day long." you opened your mouth under his ocean eyes when you felt his fingers push the fabric of your panties to slowly get inside your pussy. his other hand slipped from your neck and pressed a finger to your chin, making you open your mouth wider. "and then you dare to sit on me." his long fingers slid slowly between your wet walls and a sob escaped from your pretty glossy lips. he smirked and licked his lips, not missing a beat. "you used me as you pleased when all i wanted was to watch tv." he removed his fingers completely from your pussy before roughly inserting them inside again, hitting your g-spot hard. you screamed and squeezed gojo's waist tightly between your thighs. you could feel your whole body trembling and your mouth was constantly open, to the point of having drool almost dripping from your lips. your feverish gaze never left gojo's, who could only admire the show you were offering him. "and then you dare to grind this little pussy on my dick." he fingerfucked you roughly, making you bounce against his chest. “i may be your friend y/n but at the end of the day i'm still a man.” your mouth was so close to his that you could feel his breath on your tongue as he spoke to you.

gojo was so nonchalant in everything he did. a few minutes ago he was slumped on the couch, watching tv while scratching his stomach and now he's in the same position but he’s fucking you with his two long ass fingers like it was nothing. and all of that with the same bored expression on his face. "p-please..-" he pressed his finger harder on your chin and you stuck your tongue out a little. "i-im gonna cum." your walls tightened around his fingers and he knew you were about to cum so he wasted no time removing his fingers from your cunt.

you sobbed, beating his chest with your fists. "i fucking hate you-" you grabbed his shirt and pulled it in all directions with anger, the collar was stretched out, revealing his collarbones and almost the top of his chest. gojo lazily glanced at your breasts, which rose and fell because of your breathing and every gesture you made, making them even more delicious.

his hand went to one of your breasts and gently slapped it, making it jiggle. "why are they so big." you crossed your arms over your chest, stabbing him with your eyes.

"don't look. don't touch." you tried to get up to go to your room and curse him until you fell asleep, but gojo decided otherwise as he grabbed you by the waist and laid you on the couch. you blushed when he straightened up to take off his shirt without taking his eyes off you, you felt so small under him.

"the way you cling to the idea that i'm interested in what comes out of your pretty little mouth is so sweet." he grabbed your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your bare breasts to his envious gaze. "fucking big." he pulled the shirt from around your head, leaving your arms up and trapped by the fabric. you arched your back slightly when you met his piercing gaze, you were so intimidated, it frustrated you and gojo noticed it. cute.

"stop looking." he slapped your inner thighs and you squealed.

"how could i stop looking at such a sweet lil thing ?" he firmly grasped your hip with one hand and pressed his crotch against your wet covered pussy. "look at this." he grabbed the fabric of your panties and yanked them off, revealing your dripping pussy. his finger slipped over your clit, collecting a drop of your juice before bringing it to his mouth, sucking slowly on it. his gaze returned to yours. "is she crying for me ?" you could feel your wetness dripping even more between your legs. he slid his hand down your hip to the back of your thigh before leaning over you. you moaned and arched your back a bit more as you felt the warm skin of his chest brush against the tip of your breasts. "now you're gonna have to be honest with me." he put his forearm next to your face while the other one slipped into his pants to pull out his cock. "how long have you been waiting for this y/n ?" you pushed the back of your head into the sofa beneath you as you saw him move a little closer, his nose touching yours. "how long have you been dreaming of me fucking you ?" your mouth opened to let out a moan when you felt the tip of his cock caress the entrance to your pussy and gojo took the opportunity to lick the hollow of your tongue. you blushed. his gaze on you became more insistent, but you held your tongue. you didn't want to give him an answer. his nose grazed your cheek and placed a light kiss on it. “don’t act so shy now.” you felt your body tremble again as the tip of his tongue entered your ear, making you mewl louder with one eye closed.

“i-i won’t answer you.” you felt him smile against your ear.

“may i ask why.” he straightened slightly, placing his two hands on either side of your head, the strands of his white hair gently brushing the skin of your forehead. his eyes have never been as blue as they are now.

“because you’re a bully and you love to play with me, you don’t deserv-” you didn't even have time to finish your sentence when gojo cut you off by pushing his whole cock roughly into your pussy. his eyes wandered over every inch of your face, from your flushed cheeks to your delicious mouth, which opened wide to moan loudly. little tears formed at the corners of your eyes when you tried to free yourself from the shirt that was trapping your arms to try to hold on to gojo, but you weren't strong enough.

gojo looked down on you with a smirk. “what were you saying ?” one of his hands slid on your lower belly wanting to feel his cock inside you. “you're good at taking it.” little noises came out of your mouth every time you tried to breathe, and gojo couldn't help but find you adorable. he suddenly grabbed your hips with both hands and lifted your ass off the couch, before brutally starting to thrust his cock deep inside you, causing the sofa to bang against the wall and the pillows to fall to the floor. “s’ tight.” he threw his head back with a soft moan and turned his attention back to you. your back arched, you tried to tell him to slow down but you were a moaning mess. your breasts jiggled with each thrust. gojo brought you with him by the hips and put one foot on the floor while his knee remained on the sofa, he grabbed the back of one of your knees and pressed it against your shoulder, opening you up much more to fuck you even harder. he leaned over you and placed his other hand on the back of the sofa above your head, your eyes fell on his necklace, which swayed up and down against his chest. your teeth caught your lower lip in a mewl when you met his piercing gaze again - he was so hot. “you better answer me before i get mean.” you moved your trapped arms again, trying to free yourself under his burning eyes, you were trapped like a little mouse in the evil cat's trap.

“s-sato-..” he let go of your knee but you still remained open while his hand slipped over one of your breasts, which he pinched hard, making you arch your back and cry out. you could feel the skin of your belly caressing his abs, and the sensation of his pubic bone rubbing your clit with each of his powerful thrusts made you moan even louder. you threw your head back when you felt gojo press his face against your neck and bite, his tongue slipped from your jaw to your ear as he whispered to you to hurry up. and at that moment you wanted to answer him but no coherent words could come out of your mouth except moans and sobs, you wanted him to untie you and let you touch him so you could finally cum but you knew that gojo was an impatient person and the longer you took the crazier he became. “t-too m-mu…ch-”

and suddenly everything changed. in the blink of an eye you found yourself sitting with your back against his chest while he held your arms firmly behind your back with one hand, making you bounce at inhuman speed on his cock. the grip of his hand on your arms tightened when he heard you sob as you threw your head back on his shoulder, a few strands of hair splayed across your face. “i warned you y/n.” he grabbed your phone, which he'd thrown on the sofa earlier, and unlocked it to open the camera app. he pressed record and aimed the lens at your flushed face. “look at her.” he let go of your arms and grabbed your face, positioning his mouth towards yours before biting your lips hard, making you cry out. he turned his attention to his reflection on the screen of your phone and smiled evilly. “this is the little princess you didn’t wanna fuck.” he lifted his knee which was under yours and planted his foot on the sofa. you were so open that you could hear even more the wet sounds of what was happening between your thighs. his hand went to your hip when he positioned the camera angle on his throbbing cock fucking inside your pussy. “is it real enough for you this time ?” he grabbed the shirt around your arms and tore it, freeing you. you didn't waste any time and put an arm around his shoulders before finally grabbing his soft white hair, making him grunt. your other hand went to his thigh and you started to bounce on his cock yourself, fucking him while he turned the camera back to your face. he slipped his hand over your belly before catching one of your tits in his large hand. “she's so fucking good, and too bad for you that's my dick she's sitting on.” he sent the video and threw your phone on the coffee table. you arched your back against his chest as his other hand slipped between your legs to pinch your clit before massaging it roughly. “look at you using me again.” you threw your head on your shoulder with a loud moan as you felt the orgasm rising inside you. “are you having fun on my cock baby ?” you nodded and turned your face towards his, mouth wide open against his as he pinched the bud of your breast. “pretty face wanna cum mh? fuck.” you nodded again and hearing him moan so loudly inside your mouth was too much for you when your eyes almost rolled to the back of your skull as a wave of pleasure swept through your body once again.

“p-plea-” you tugged harder on his hair as he grabbed the back of your knees before lifting you up against his chest to roughly thrust his cock up inside your dripping cunt like an animal. your screams blended together and echoed against the living room walls, now you were convinced that the neighbors could hear you fucking. gojo pressed his face against the back of your neck and sank his teeth into your delicate skin when you both finally came at the same time with loud moans.

after a few seconds you fell back on gojo who grabbed you by the waist, you could hear him breathing heavily in your ear, and it made you blush when he pressed a soft kiss on it. he threw his head back on the back of the sofa and slid his hands down to your thighs, caressing them gently. you tightened your pussy walls around his cock making him moan with a smile on his beautiful lips. “i can’t remove it.” you slapped his thigh wanting him to let you go so you can get cleaned up. “sorry. pussy too fucking good. lemme sleep like this.”

you sighed and straightened yourself up, you ran a hand over the back of your neck. “you really had to bite me ?” you turned your face towards him and he tilted his head to one side, smiling. you turned your attention back in front of you and blushed. “since highschool.”

“hm ?” he slid his hands over your waist massaging it with his thumbs. he raised his oceanic eyes and noticed your flushed ears. he brought a finger over one of them and you flinched with a little squeal making him smile.

“i've been wanting you to touch me since highschool.”

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