#There are a few times that I go off I will admit
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
Relieved that her dad wasn't upset about her lies (which had occurred 20 years ago for him), Violet held him a little bit tighter. She cried a few more tears, and she wasn't sure she was going to stop crying any time soon. Her emotions felt like a storm in her chest; happiness, sadness, and worries crashing like waves against her ribcage.
She nodded solemnly. "The orderlies were more than happy to find reasons to torment us," she agreed, even if they had also given the orderlies plenty of reasons, like trying to escape. But they had mostly been beaten for no good reasons at all. Like Violet showing him her scar. Or her dad trying to help her up.
Violet looked up. "I'm not sorry I was in this ward, in our timeline. I'm happy I got to be with you, to help you." She understood that her dad wanted to protect her, and that it was surely terrible for him to know that she had witnessed the hell he had endured for seven months. But in her eyes, this was good luck, for once. "I kept thinkin'... I wish I could have been with my dad. I hated to know that you'd gone through all of this alone. And now... I know that I was there with you."
"It hurts a little bit," she admitted, "I think the painkillers are wearin' off." Oh, right. The bruises on her ribs. "Yes, it is. But I told Mom it was the sleepwalkin', I didn't know how else to explain 'em. I didn't want her thinkin' that someone hurt me." Even though it was exactly what had happened.
"You couldn't have," he acknowledged for her wanting to tell him the truth in the ward, he would never have believed her and wouldn't have comprehended it in the first place. At least now he knew albeit so many years later. "I know," he tried to reassure her, just that he understood why she had not given her real name and why it was she had lied to him. "It's ok," he attempted as reassurance again.
"I don't think it was possible to not be in trouble there." He commented but yes, yes they had been in far more trouble than they had ever needed to be if they had just sat down and drew pictures all day. "I'm sorry you saw that." Truly, he would have never thought she would end up there, that it was impossible for her to be there. "That you wound up being sent there," fresh tears formed in his eyes and his breath caught in his throat. "I had hoped you were in a different timeline, that somehow it was better."
Remembering what he had been through only made him worry for Violet more. He knew she had been beaten, shocked, sedated and restrained. He hoped that the patients had stayed away from her and that the orderlies didn't take a particular interest in tormenting her. "How's your arm? And your side? Your mom said there's more bruising but is that from the office incident?"
#&(killian beneventi)#violet (there's no happy endings)#multipleoccupancy#delta green verse#read at your own discretion
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guard dog pt.2 w/ jeong yunho
idk if this will become a series (it absolutely will, i love him). if you have any asks about this little series then i’ll be more than happy to answer them 🥰
warnings - yandere!yunho, hybrid!yunho, role reversal, yunho calls reader puppy, talk of murder, talk of living in a bad neighbourhood, allusions to masturbation, choking
pt1
you were under the impression that by wearing yunho’s jumper, it might piss him off just a little bit
but as you walk into the living room where he lays, limbs slung across the couch that he deemed beneath him no more than a few nights ago, you’re shocked to see a smirk playing on his lips
if you had much more on beneath it, you might have torn it from your body and thrown it at his smug face, but you wouldn’t want to give the mutt the satisfaction of seeing your tits
“going somewhere, puppy?” it’s been three long, arduous days and he still hasn’t dropped the nickname
you’re this close to getting your name tattooed in hold across your forehead; maybe then he won’t forget it
“the shop,” you walk over to grab your boots; heavy and intimidating and perfect for kicking any creep that gets too close, “i want a snack.”
“there’s plenty of food in the fridge,” he deadpans as you make your way over to the sofa
he doesn’t move, not even when you glare so hard at his legs that he can practically feel you burning holes in them
annoying prick
you settle for sitting right on the edge of the cushion, just far enough on to keep yourself from toppling to the floor as you slip your shoes onto your feet
“i don’t want the food in the fridge,” you say simply as you tie your laces, “if i wanted the food in the fridge, i’d eat the food in the fridge.”
a few seconds of silence pass by, and you’re almost positive that he spends them rolling his eyes behind your back
“it’s dangerous to go out at this time on your own,” as if that’s not the most obvious thing in the world
luckily for you, you have the safe streets memorised, and you carry your keys tight in your fist as a make-shift shiv
yunho seems to forget that you’ve lived here far longer than he has; you’re far too used to how dangerous it can be when twilight hits
“nothing stopping you from coming with,” you suggest, although you hope to everything that is holy that he says no
“i’m not getting changed out of my pyjamas, puppy,” a sigh of relief escapes your mouth as he gives you what want
“well, i’m going either way,” you insist, and he nods in understanding, expecting no less of you
you’re not ashamed to admit that you’re stubborn, maybe even sometimes to the point of being a brat
it’s just so fun to see your victim’s get riled up as you push each of their buttons over and over again
part of you hoped you would’ve learned yunho’s buttons by now, enough to get a little rise out of him, at least
but as he looks you up and down with nothing but neutrality in his eyes, you know that yet again you’ve failed
perhaps you’ve met your match, at long last; the person who can turn each and every jab around and aim them back at you
as your annoyance rises within you, making your bones buzz and your heart clench tight in your chest, you understand just how true that is
and you’re fucking stuck with him
“have fun getting murdered down some dark alley, then,” he just waves you off, only serving to piss you off more
“you’re a prick,” you spit in retaliation
your footsteps are heavy as you head to the door, eyes already trained on the little table you stash your keys on for safekeeping
the little silver stash normally takes pride of place, sitting pretty in the centre so as to not go unseen whenever you’re in a rush to leave
but the table is empty, and you know you won’t have put your keys anywhere else
but then there’s a tinkle behind you; the gentle sound of metal upon metal drawing your attention away from where the keys should be to where they actually are
the mutt’s black ears twitch atop his head as he gently fingers the bundle
you watch as the light catches, reflecting back on his stupidly handsome face in dots of shimmering light
fortunately, his prettiness only makes him that much easier to hate; of course the bastard is a prick when he looks like that
“yunho, give me my keys,” your voice is stern, tired of whatever game it is he’s playing already
“don’t want to,” he says, amusement laced through his words
the keys clink louder this time as he takes them in his fist before slipping them into his sweatpants without another word
“yunh—”
“let’s play a game, puppy,” he cuts you off, “if you fetch the keys like a good pup, i’ll let you go to the store. that sound good?”
the smile he wears is wicked, all teeth like he’s a snarling beast
he might look human, for the most part, but the sharp canines that dig into his bottom lip are a harsh reminder that he’s closer to that beast than he seems
but you’re not in the business of losing, and you certainly refuse to give up without a fair fight
if he wants to play dirty, then dirty is what he’ll get
it takes a mere few seconds for you to cross the room back to the couch, shimmying round it until you’re standing in front of him, legs lined up with his crotch
you sink to your knees, not daring to look at his face despite hearing the deep chuckle he gives you in response
“which pocket?” you spit, words sharp and impatient
“work it out, pup.”
you jump at the feeling of a warm hand petting the top of your head, fingers curling around an invisible pair of dog ears to match his own
you try your best to ignore everything about the situation; the game of fetch, the way you’re knelt at his feet, the way his hand absentmindedly plays with your hair
everything about it screams puppy, and that is not your fucking name
your fingers dip into his left pocket, feeling around for a moment or two before coming out empty handed
you don’t even allow a second to tick my before you delve your fingers into his other pocket and feel around in a similar way
but you can’t feel anything in there either, and it stumps you
yunho hums as you draw your fingers back, finally shifting your unamused gaze back to his face
“you know what i think?” he starts, and you nod, desperate for a hint of some kind, “i think you’d be so pretty with a collar wrapped around that lovely little neck of yours.”
it takes you off guard a little, not at all what you were expecting to drop from his mouth
and yet somehow, as the words sink in a little, you find yourself rather unsurprised
you shoot him the harshest glare you can muster before pushing his hand firmly away from your head
“well i don’t have a collar around my nec—”
the warm palm you pushed from your skull not a second prior, now lies on your throat
you can feel it, gentle yet firm as it holds you in place and pushes your protests away
“are you sure about that, puppy?” he growls; a sound that travels straight to your core, “from where i’m sitting, it looks like you do.”
it takes everything in you to shuffle back, just far enough away that his hand slips free of your neck and falls flat against the leather of your sofa
you stand on shaky legs, taking a few steps towards the bathroom as you do everything in your power to not look at him
if you do, you’re not quite sure what will happen
but your avoidant eyes miss the way he slips the keys free of his waistband and tosses them onto the coffee table, satisfied enough in his win to know he doesn’t have to hide them anymore
“i’m going for a shower,” you say with a shaky voice, slipping out of his sight as he gives you a hum of affirmation
it looks like the shower head will come in handy tonight
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hiii! can I please request an aitana x reader blurb where reader is one of barca’s medical staff and aitana has a crush on her so she keeps coming to visit her for really minimal/exaggerated injuries just to talk to and be around her (and maybe some of her teammates find out and start teasing her for it) thank you!!
Injury prone || Aitana Bonmati x physio!reader
Warning slight mention of injuries
Summary Aitana is always finding a reason to come see you in the medical room
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“Back again are we?” You asked Aitana as she blushed, her cheeks turning a red colour.
“I tweaked my ankle in training.” She responded, stuttering a bit due to the language struggle, but trying her best either way.
“Again? What’s this? The fifth time this week?” You questioned her, a smirk resting on your face as you watched her face turn more red.
She just shrugged in response, lifting herself onto the bed.
“I’m clumsy? Is that the right word?”
“It certainly is. Now, how did it happen?”
“Umm… I… fell over the ball.” Aitana replied after a few seconds of thinking.
“Sure you did. Right, I’m not gonna wrap it up but I’m gonna suggest you ice it.” You told her, Aitana nodding along with your words. “Get plenty of rest and hopefully I won’t have to see you tomorrow, not for any injuries that is.”
“Okay, thank you, Y/N.” She said, pressing a friendly kiss to your cheek before walking out the room.
—
“What now? Your knee?” You asked jokingly as Aitana walked into the medical room.
“My shoulder, I fell on it.” Aitana explained, massaging her shoulder gently.
“Hmm, let’s take a look.”
Aitana took her shirt off, leaving her in her sports bra.
You took a good look at her shoulder, no sign of swelling or bruising, if you’d had to guess, you would’ve guessed nothing was wrong with it.
“Aitana, did you really hurt your shoulder?”
“No — I mean yes! I did.” Aitana panicked, her cheeks reddening.
“Aitana…”
“No I didn’t. I just wanted to see you.” Aitana admitted, looking down at the floor.
“You do realise you could just ask me on a date?”
“Would you say yes?”
“Of course I would. Now, do you have anything to ask me?” You asked, a sparkle of hope in your eyes.
“Will you like to go on a date with me?”
“No…” you said, Aitana’s face dropping. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”
#woso#woso community#woso x reader#woso imagine#womens football#woso fanfics#aitana bonmati#aitana bonmati x reader#barcelona femeni
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Healing Touch
Kinkvember Day 14: Oral (TW: Emotional & Physical Abuse)
StayC Isa (Lee Chaeyoung) x Male reader
AN: Just a heads-up, this story has more character development and plot, with less smut than usual. I hope you guys still enjoy!
“AGH, fuck!” Isa’s breath comes in shallow gasps, her body still tingling from the waves of pleasure that had just torn through her. The room is filled with the quiet aftermath of your lovemaking, a soft hum of satisfaction buzzing in the dim light. She lies beside you, skin slick with sweat, her heartbeat slowly returning to its natural rhythm. For a few moments, neither of you speaks—just the sound of your breaths mingling as you both come down from the high, letting the silence settle in comfortably.
You lie on your back next to her, staring up at the ceiling with a lazy grin, your chest rising and falling in sync with hers. Isa turns her head toward you, her body still warm and electric from the intensity you just shared. She treasures these moments—the calm after the storm—when every part of her feels alive yet settled. But tonight, something lingers at the edge of her mind, a familiar ache that always seems to resurface after these most intimate moments.
It’s been a year and a half since you became a couple,—since you reached the point where words were no longer enough to hold what you shared. You’ve grown closer with each passing day, yet even now, there are places in you that feel just out of reach to her, guarded and closed. Isa longs to reach those parts, to touch you in ways that go beyond the physical. She feels it most in the aftermath of nights like this—when your bodies speak a language all their own, but she knows there’s still something more, something unspoken between you.
You both bask in the comfortable silence, bodies entangled yet thoughts drifting. Isa’s fingers trace the lines of your chest lazily, feeling the steady warmth of your skin beneath her touch, grounding her. Her body hums with contentment, but her mind is already longing for something beyond it. She feels the quiet tension that always lingers after, a sense of wanting to give herself more fully to you, to offer parts of herself that words or touch can’t fully convey.
After a few moments, Isa turns her head toward you, her voice soft, carrying a hint of hope. “Do you want me to… take care of you?” She doesn’t need to be more specific; you know what she means. She wants to show her love in this way, to take you to that place of vulnerability she finds beautiful.
You smile faintly but shake your head, brushing it off. “No need, baby. You don’t have to. I’m good.”
Isa’s heart sinks, a familiar disappointment settling in. The rejection stings, even more than she lets herself admit. “I know I don’t have to,” she murmurs, her fingers still tracing patterns on your chest, searching for the right words. “I want to.”
Your response is gentle but dismissive, as always. “I’m spent. Too tired,” you say, your voice already softening with sleep as you turn to spoon her from behind. Your arm wraps around her waist, pulling her close, and Isa can feel the warmth of your body against hers, your breath soft against her neck. But despite your words, she feels your half-hardened length pressing against her, betraying your claim of exhaustion.
Her mind swirls as she lies there in your embrace. She’s noticed this pattern before—how you always find a reason to decline her offer. It isn’t the first time you’ve said you’re “tired” or that it ���wasn’t necessary.” Each time, it leaves Isa feeling more confused and frustrated. For her, it isn’t about obligation; it’s her way of showing love, an expression as important as anything else you do together. She wants to share that intimacy with you—to feel the satisfaction of bringing you pleasure in her own way. And yet, every time she tries, you have an excuse.
Tonight, with the way your body presses against hers even as your words tell her no, the quiet rejection stings more deeply than ever.
As you hold her, your arm draped over her waist, you sense a shift in her, a quiet tension. Normally, after moments like these, you would both talk softly or drift into easy silence. But tonight, there’s a difference in the air, something in the way her body feels tense against yours, her breath slow but not fully relaxed.
“Chae,” you say, your voice breaking through the silence. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Isa hesitates, biting her lip as her thoughts tumble over one another. Should she brush it off? Or is tonight the night to finally voice what’s been building inside her? After a long moment, she sighs and rolls over slightly to face you, her gaze soft but searching.
“Why don’t you ever let me… you know, give you head?” she begins quietly, her voice uncertain but steady. “It’s not like I don’t want to. I love doing it. I love making you feel good in that way. But you always say no.”
You blink, momentarily taken aback by her honesty. You open your mouth to respond, but Isa continues, the words pouring out now that she’s started.
“I don’t want to pressure you, I swear,” she says, her fingers resting lightly on your chest, feeling the slow, steady beat of your heart. “I just… I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I can’t help but feel like I’m missing something. You say you’re tired, or that you’re fine, but it’s a way for me to show my love, and I want to share that with you. But you keep shutting me down.”
Her words hang in the air between you, a weight both of you can feel. Isa’s heart pounds as she waits for your response, vulnerability tightening in her chest, wondering if you’ll brush it off or finally explain what holds you back.
You sigh, running a hand through your hair, your gaze shifting as if searching for the right words. You’ve always avoided this conversation, not because you don’t care about Isa’s feelings, but because the truth isn’t something you like to acknowledge—not even to yourself.
Finally, after a long pause, you look back at her, your expression serious but softened by affection. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just… complicated.”
The words sit between you, a partial explanation that leaves Isa feeling both relieved and unsatisfied. She knows you well enough to sense that you aren’t ready to share more, so she nods, squeezing your hand gently before releasing it. She won’t push you any further tonight, but a familiar ache remains, lingering like an unanswered question, a space between you still waiting to be bridged.
-----
The next day, as Isa strolled through the market, the weight of your quiet rejection still lingered, gnawing at her thoughts. The autumn air was crisp, carrying the earthy scent of fallen leaves and the comforting aroma of baked goods from nearby stalls, yet the usual warmth she felt here seemed dulled. The marketplace buzzed around her—children laughing, vendors calling out their offers—but Isa moved through it, distracted, her mind tethered to the unsettled feeling that trailed her since last night. As much as she loved you and felt a deep connection, there was this persistent gap—your quiet refusal to let her give you pleasure in the way she most wanted.
It wasn’t that you were harsh about it; you always deflected her with gentle excuses: Not right now, I’m too tired, You don’t need to. But Isa cherished to have this connection with you. For her, it was an act of love, something woven into her very identity. Giving herself in that way made her feel closer, like she was tapping into a deeper level of intimacy, one that words or gestures couldn’t quite match. Yet, every time she offered, you gently closed the door. The rejection, soft as it was, had begun to settle into her, like an ache that didn’t quite fade.
Lost in thought, Isa approached a vegetable stall, barely noticing the colorful array of produce before her. Just as she reached out to pick a ripe tomato, a familiar voice pulled her back to the present.
“Isa? Is that you?”
Isa looked up, her heart skipping a beat. There, standing a few feet away, was Sojang—your ex—smiling at her with an easy familiarity that immediately set Isa on edge. They had met once before, briefly, and Isa hadn’t thought much of her since. But seeing her here, unexpectedly, in the middle of her own thoughts about you, made Isa feel oddly unsettled, as if her internal worries were somehow surfacing before her.
“Oh, hey! Sojang, right?” Isa managed a smile, though it felt tight, her voice sounding more strained than she intended.
Sojang beamed, her expression disarmingly friendly, almost too friendly. “Yes! It’s so nice to run into you. How are you? How’s Y/N?”
Isa nodded, trying to mirror Sojang’s warmth. “I’m good! We’re good, thanks. Just picking up a few things for dinner,” she replied, hoping the conversation would remain light and fleeting.
“Ah, nice, nice,” Sojang said, her eyes gleaming with an interest that made Isa feel oddly exposed. There was something too sweet, too earnest in her tone. Isa couldn’t quite place why, but there was something about Sojang’s bright smile that felt like a performance, a mask that was a little too carefully worn. Isa pushed the thought away, telling herself she was just being paranoid.
They exchanged a few pleasantries, Sojang filling Isa in on her recent return to town. Isa responded politely, though the conversation felt increasingly forced, like Sojang was trying to carve out some deeper connection than Isa wanted. As she listened, Isa’s intuition prickled, a sense that Sojang’s friendliness was intentional, perhaps even calculated. Nothing was explicitly wrong, but her smile seemed too eager, like a practiced act Isa hadn’t signed up to watch.
Then, out of nowhere, Sojang’s tone shifted, becoming playfully teasing. She leaned in, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “So, since you’re with him, your jaw must be tired all the time, huh?” Sojang winked, a sly smirk dancing at the corner of her mouth.
Isa blinked, her mind momentarily freezing. “Uh… what?”
Sojang laughed, seemingly taking Isa’s reaction as bashfulness. “Oh, come on. You don’t have to pretend. I know he’s practically begging you to suck his dick all the time.” She winked again, as if they shared some private joke, as if they were in on the same secret.
Isa’s stomach dropped, a cold, twisting sensation gripping her. “I… um…” Her thoughts raced, scrambling for a response. That wasn’t you. You never begged for oral—if anything, you avoided it. What was Sojang talking about?
Oblivious to Isa’s discomfort, Sojang continued, her tone light, even bubbly. “Oh, trust me. He loves it. He was always asking me for it. Like, constantly. It was kind of his thing, you know? Blowjobs were his main way to unwind.” She giggled, reminiscing with a fondness that felt almost too casual, as if she were sharing a harmless story. “I mean, I used to joke that my jaw was always sore because of him!”
Isa tried to process Sojang’s words, but they didn’t align with the version of you she knew. Her pulse quickened, each beat intensifying the confusion as Sojang’s words echoed in her mind. Constantly? Always asking? She barely managed to keep her expression composed, though her head was spinning. This didn’t sound like you—at least, not the you she knew. The more she tried to piece it together, the more alien it felt.
With effort, she forced a smile, though it wavered. “That’s… interesting. I didn’t know that.”
“Oh yeah!” Sojang replied, all too happy to continue. “If there’s one thing he loved, it was a good blowjob. I used to give them to him all the time. It was like the highlight of his day,” she added with a carefree laugh. “I’m sure you’re keeping him satisfied.”
Isa’s throat tightened, each of Sojang’s words adding to a strange, hollow ache that made her feel smaller, less certain. The more Sojang talked, the more Isa felt a creeping sense of inadequacy. She wanted to respond, to say something—anything—but found herself grasping for words that wouldn’t come. You had never once hinted that you wanted that from her, and every time she offered, you politely refused. Yet here was Sojang, painting a completely different picture of you, one that seemed to revel in a kind of pleasure you wouldn’t let her give.
A sliver of doubt wormed its way into her thoughts, each repetition of Sojang’s words chipping away at her confidence. Was it her? Was she the problem?
“Yeah, um, well…” Isa stammered, her voice trailing off as she glanced down, feeling awkward and exposed in a conversation that had turned sharp without warning. Sojang kept talking, oblivious to Isa’s growing discomfort, but Isa could barely focus on her words. All she could think about was the contrast Sojang’s experience painted, a version of you that felt foreign, unsettling.
If you loved it so much, why didn’t you want it from her?
The question echoed in her mind, nagging, each repetition a sharper edge to her doubt. After a few more forced pleasantries, Sojang finally said her goodbyes, leaving Isa standing alone in the crowded market, the buzz of conversation and laughter around her feeling oddly muted. As Sojang walked away, a heavy feeling settled in Isa’s chest, as if she’d been blindsided, caught off guard in a game she hadn’t known she was playing. Sojang’s cheerful demeanor had made it seem casual, unimportant even, but Isa’s heart felt weighed down by confusion and self-doubt.
On the walk home, the conversation replayed in her mind, every detail sharpening the ache inside her. Sojang’s words kept circling back, as if taunting her: you loved it, needed it, craved it. So why didn’t you want it from her? Was something wrong with her? Did you not trust her the way you had trusted Sojang? Or was there something deeper—something about her that just didn’t move you in the same way?
The doubt gnawed at her, a relentless churning that she couldn’t shake. She told herself not to let Sojang’s words get to her, that people change, that your past with her was just that—the past. But the seeds of insecurity had been planted, and they were starting to take root, their grip tightening around her heart.
More than anything, something about Sojang’s comments unsettled her on a deeper level. The way Sojang had been too familiar, too knowing, as if she’d relished the chance to make Isa feel small. Isa tried to shake the thought, to dismiss it as paranoia, but the suspicion lingered, settling uncomfortably in the back of her mind.
By the time she reached home, the unease had only grown stronger, her heart weighed down with questions she was almost afraid to ask.
-----
That evening, you and Isa sat down for dinner together. You had prepared a comforting meal of pasta in a rosé sauce with a side of golden, buttery garlic bread. On Isa’s plate was a vibrant mix of grilled vegetables and quinoa sprinkled with fresh herbs. Normally, the familiar flavors and your shared meal would soothe her, but tonight, they barely registered. Her mind was elsewhere, tangled in the remnants of her encounter with Sojang and the unsettling thoughts that had trailed her all the way home.
You began chatting about your day, sharing funny stories from work, your face lighting up as you recounted your coworker’s clumsy misadventures with the new coffee machine. Isa nodded along, trying to stay present, even forcing a few laughs. But her mind kept drifting back to the market, to Sojang’s words, each one chipping at her sense of ease, making her quieter than usual.
After a moment, you looked up from your plate, brow furrowing as you noticed her stillness. “Hey, is the food okay?” you asked gently, eyes filled with concern. “You’ve barely touched it.”
Isa shook her head quickly, offering a faint smile. “Oh, no, it’s good,” she replied, taking a small, obligatory bite of her vegetables, though she hardly tasted them. She didn’t want to bring up Sojang or the thoughts stirring inside her—not now, not over dinner. But she couldn’t shake the tension, and every time she looked up, she could feel your worried gaze settling on her.
The two of you finished the meal in subdued silence, Isa barely eating, her appetite dulled by the emotions she was wrestling with. You quietly gathered the dishes and moved to the sink, washing them with your usual care, while Isa slipped into the bedroom, feeling the weight of her unresolved thoughts pressing down on her, heavier than before.
Later that evening, Isa sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her reflection in the mirror, her mind a whirl of doubt and frustration. From the bathroom, she could hear the sound of running water as you washed up, the quiet rhythm amplifying the silence around her. She tried to focus on her nightly routine, brushing her hair, massaging moisturizer into her skin, but her thoughts kept dragging her back to the market—to Sojang’s playful, almost taunting voice. I know he’s practically begging you to suck his dick all the time. The words echoed in her mind, louder and sharper with each repetition, until she felt like she couldn’t breathe.
How could Sojang’s experience with you have been so different from her own? Isa had tried to offer you that same intimacy, that same pleasure, only to be gently brushed off each time. She wanted to feel close to you in every way, to connect with you on the most vulnerable level, but your repeated refusals… they were beginning to feel like a rejection of her, not just of the act.
By the time she crawled into bed, you were coming out of the bathroom, hair damp, smile easy. Normally, Isa would feel comforted by your presence, but tonight her body tensed as you slid in beside her. You wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close like always, but instead of the familiar warmth she usually felt, Isa found herself resisting, a strange weight pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.
“Hey,” you murmured, noticing her stiffness. You pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been quiet since dinner.”
Isa swallowed, managing a weak smile though her heart pounded in her chest. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
You didn’t look convinced. Shifting slightly, you propped yourself up on one elbow to study her face, concern etched in your expression. “Chae? You seem… off. Did I do something?”
Isa felt her throat tighten. She didn’t want to talk about it—not yet, not when her thoughts felt this raw and tangled. She wasn’t even sure how to explain it without sounding insecure. “I’m just tired,” she repeated softly, turning her head away. “Can we talk tomorrow?”
You hesitated, clearly worried, but you nodded, giving her space. “Alright,” you said gently, settling back down beside her. “But if something’s bothering you, you can tell me. You know that, right?”
Isa didn’t respond, keeping her back to you as she curled up on her side. Normally, she would lean into you, her back against your chest, feeling safe and grounded. But tonight, she held herself apart, feeling an unfamiliar anger simmering beneath her sadness. You shifted behind her, closing the gap between you, your arm slipping around her waist again, but she stayed still, not moving to nestle into your embrace.
“I love you,” you whispered, your voice soft, tinged with guilt. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”
Your words tugged at her heart, yet Isa couldn’t bring herself to respond. She wasn’t even sure if it was something you had done, or something inside herself that had shifted. She stayed turned away, eyes shut tightly, fighting against the frustration building in her chest. The image of Sojang’s cheerful, too-knowing smile and her casual comments gnawed at her, each one twisting further into her insecurities.
Eventually, Isa drifted into an uneasy sleep, her body still tense with your arm draped over her. But for the first time, the warmth she usually found in your touch felt distant, as if a wall had formed between you, quiet but unmistakable
-----
When Isa woke the next morning, sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, but it did nothing to ease the tension gripping her chest. She turned over, expecting to find you still asleep beside her, but you were already up, pulling on a t-shirt at the foot of the bed. You smiled when you saw her stirring.
“Morning, beautiful,” you said gently, crossing over to kiss her forehead. Your touch was familiar, warm, but Isa’s thoughts were elsewhere—trapped in yesterday’s conversation with Sojang.
Isa sat up slowly, her mind racing, replaying Sojang’s words over and over. You slipped back into bed beside her, draping an arm around her waist like you always did, but today, it felt wrong. She tensed, her skin crawling with unease. You kissed her shoulder, your lips soft against her skin, but Isa couldn’t stop the flood of thoughts—the image of Sojang talking so casually about how much you had loved receiving oral.
She tried to smile, tried to shake the thoughts from her head, but the tension inside her was building too fast. Isa pulled away from your touch, sitting at the edge of the bed, her hands trembling slightly in her lap. You immediately noticed the shift, frowning as she distanced herself.
“Chae... what’s going on?” you asked, your voice gentle but filled with concern. “You’re not yourself. Did I do something?”
Isa bit her lip, her chest tightening. She could feel the frustration and doubt bubbling up inside her, and she couldn’t hold it in anymore. The words tumbled out before she could stop them.
“Why won’t you let me do it?” she asked quietly, her voice tense.
You furrowed your brow, confused. “Do what?”
Isa’s hands tightened in her lap. She turned slightly toward you, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Give you head. Why won’t you ever let me? Why was it okay with Sojang but not with me?”
You instantly stiffened at her words. Your entire body went rigid, eyes narrowing slightly as you processed what she was asking. Your reaction was immediate and unmistakable.
“Wait... why did you and Sojang meet up?” you asked, your voice sharp with unease.
Isa blinked, caught off guard by your sudden tension. She frowned, shaking her head, thinking you were deflecting. “Seriously? That’s your concern right now? You’re trying to change the subject.”
Your eyes stayed fixed on her, body still stiff with discomfort. “No, I—I’m just asking—”
“Sojang told me everything,” Isa interrupted, her voice rising with emotion. “She said you two broke up on good terms. She made it sound like you had this perfect relationship and then just decided to part ways. She implied that blowjobs were practically your favorite thing.” Isa’s voice wavered as her insecurity bubbled up. “She made it sound like she could give you something I can’t. Is that why you keep pushing me away?”
Your face tightened further at the mention of Sojang, your jaw clenching as your eyes flickered with something Isa couldn’t quite read. She mistook your reaction for guilt, for confirmation of her worst fears.
“If that’s what you want—if you still want her—I can leave,” Isa continued, her voice cracking. “If you’d rather be with Sojang, just tell me. I won’t stand in the way.”
You blinked, expression shifting from tense to confused. “Wait, what?” you asked, clearly thrown off. “Leave? Babe, what are you talking about?”
“You guys are perfect for each other. I get it. If she’s still important to you, I won’t—”
“Chae, don’t think like that,” you interrupted, your voice firm but bewildered. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. That’s not what this is about.”
Isa froze, tears pricking her eyes as she stared at you, her frustration and confusion now battling with her fear of rejection. “Then why?” Her voice broke, and her tears finally spilled over. “Why won’t you let me show you how much I love you? Why do you keep pushing me away? What’s wrong with me?”
Your face softened with guilt and regret, shoulders sagging as if the weight of what you had been holding back was finally crashing down on you. You reached out for her, but Isa pulled away, too hurt to accept your comfort.
“Honey, please, listen to me,” you said, your voice low, thick with emotion. “It’s not you. I swear, it’s not about you.”
“Then what is it?” Isa demanded, her voice trembling with frustration and heartache.
“Sojang...” you began, your voice strained, “she’s not what you think.”
Your hands trembled in your lap, eyes darting away from Isa’s as the weight of your past pressed down on you. You could feel your throat tighten, chest aching as memories you had tried to bury for so long began to resurface. Isa’s heart pounded in her chest, watching you with growing concern. She had never seen you like this—so vulnerable, so visibly distressed. You were always the strong one, the one who held her together when she felt like falling apart. But now, sitting there with your hands shaking and your gaze far away, she realized how much you had been hiding from her.
You took a deep breath, jaw tightening before you finally spoke, your voice low and strained. “Sojang... she’s not who you think she is. And we didn’t break up on good terms. We didn’t end things cleanly like she made it sound. I didn’t even tell her it was over face to face. I just... I left.”
Isa’s eyes widened slightly, her heart already sinking at the pain she could hear in your voice. “What do you mean?” she asked softly, not wanting to push, but needing to understand.
You stared at your hands, fingers fidgeting with the sheets as you tried to explain. “Sojang… She was my first girlfriend. I didn’t know any better back then. I didn’t have anything to compare it to. I was just happy that someone wanted to be with me, you know?” You glanced up at Isa, your eyes filled with a mixture of shame and sadness. “I thought that was love.”
Isa’s heart broke at your words. She could see it now—the innocence, the trust you had given Sojang, not knowing what a healthy relationship looked like. You had believed Sojang loved you, that the way she treated you was normal, and it made her stomach turn.
“At first, everything seemed fine,” you continued, your voice growing quieter. “But slowly, she started changing. She got controlling. She’d use sex as a way to manipulate me.”
Isa felt a lump form in her throat as your words sank in. She could see how much this was hurting you, how difficult it was for you to relive these memories. She wanted to reach out and comfort you, but she didn’t want to interrupt. You needed to get this out.
“She’d use it to punish me,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “Whenever I did something she didn’t like, whenever I tried to pull away from her, she’d… use her mouth to cause me pain. I know that sounds weird, but she knew exactly how to hurt me. She’d make it seem like it was this intimate thing, but it wasn’t. It was about control, about making me feel powerless.”
Isa’s breath caught in her throat, her mind reeling. The idea that Sojang had weaponized something so intimate, something that should have been about love and connection, made her feel sick.
“It got worse,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “If I flinched, if I tried to tell her to stop, she’d accuse me of not being a real man. She’d say things like, ‘How can you not like blowjobs? What kind of guy doesn’t enjoy that?’ She made me feel like there was something wrong with me. And when I started to believe that... I didn’t know how to leave.”
You swallowed hard, your voice growing even quieter as the memories overwhelmed you. “Sojang would say things like, ‘Don’t you know how lucky you are to have a girl like me suck you off? You should be grateful.’ And for a while, I believed her. I thought… Maybe she was right. I didn’t feel lucky, but I felt like I had to be. Like I was crazy for not wanting it.”
Isa’s heart shattered as she listened. She had no idea that Sojang had twisted something so intimate into a way to control and demean you. Your hands clenched in your lap as you continued, the words pouring out now, like you had been holding them in for too long.
“I hated it,” you said, your voice raw. “But I stayed because I thought that was what love was supposed to be. I thought… I thought maybe this was all I was worth. Maybe she was right.”
Isa’s tears fell freely now. She wanted to reach out, to tell you that none of it had been your fault, that you weren’t the problem, but she stayed silent, letting you finish.
“I started dreading it,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly. “Every time she’d order me to undress, I knew it wasn’t about love or making me feel good. It was about control. And I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t know how to stop it.”
Isa’s stomach churned, imagining the fear and helplessness you must have felt, trapped in a relationship with someone who wielded intimacy as a weapon.
“I couldn’t take it anymore,” you said, your voice barely audible now. “I reached my breaking point, and one night, I just… I left. I snuck out. Cut all contact. I didn’t even tell her it was over. I was scared she’d pull me back in again. I was scared she’d make me feel like I was the problem, all over again.”
Isa’s tears blurred her vision as she reached out, placing a hand on your arm. “Oh my God… I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.” Her voice cracked, filled with sorrow and regret. She couldn’t believe how much you had been holding inside, how much you had been carrying alone.
You finally looked up at her, your expression filled with pain but also relief, as if finally saying these words had lifted some of the weight from your chest. But your eyes still carried that haunted look, as though the trauma lingered, even after all this time.
“That’s why I can’t let you do it,” you said softly, your voice hoarse. “It’s not about you, baby. I love you. But every time you offer, all I can think about is her. The pain. The manipulation. I don’t want to go back there.”
Isa’s heart shattered all over again. She had thought your refusals were about her, but now she saw it for what it was—a way to protect yourself from reliving the nightmare that had nearly broken you.
Tears streamed down her face as she scooted closer to you, wrapping her arms around you tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered through her tears. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”
You didn’t cry, but she could feel the tension in your body, the way your muscles were taut, as though you were barely holding yourself together. You had always been the strong one, the one who held everything together. And now, here you were, crumbling in her arms, showing her the depth of your vulnerability.
“You’re not weak,” Isa whispered, pressing her forehead against your shoulder, her voice choked with emotion. “You’re not. You’re the strongest person I know, and I love you so much.”
You didn’t speak for a moment, but your hand found hers, squeezing it gently. It was a small gesture, but Isa knew what it meant. You were letting her in, slowly, piece by piece.
The two of you sat there in silence, Isa holding you as if her embrace could somehow mend the cracks in your heart. She wished it could. She wished she could erase all the pain your ex had caused you, take away the trauma that had scarred you so deeply. But she knew that wasn’t possible.
All she could do was be there for you. To love you. To show you that this—your love—was real, and safe, and nothing like the twisted version Sojang had given you.
“I love you,” Isa whispered again, her tears dampening your shoulder.
-----
In the days and weeks following your confession, something shifted between you and Isa—not in a bad way, but in a way that made her feel even closer to you. She hadn’t realized just how much you had been holding inside, how much of yourself you’d kept hidden. Now that you’d shared your past, there was a lightness about you that Isa had never seen before.
You were still the strong, steady man she’d always known, but now there was a vulnerability you allowed yourself to show. You smiled more, laughed a bit louder, and even in the quiet moments between you, there was a newfound ease. It wasn’t that your trauma had vanished���it never would—but confiding in Isa had released some of its hold, and that brought her a profound sense of love and pride.
Isa never pushed, nor did she bring up what you had told her unless you wanted to talk. She understood that healing was not something that happened overnight, and she didn’t want you to feel rushed or like you had to “fix” yourself for her. She was simply there, letting you go at your own pace, accepting that some things might never change and that this was okay.
Still, she made sure you knew she was there for you, whenever you were ready.
One evening, as you lay in bed together, Isa turned to you, cupping your face gently. “I just want you to know,” she whispered, her voice warm with love, “that whenever—or if ever—you feel ready, I’d love to show you what real love feels like. Not the kind that hurts, not the kind that controls. Just love. Real, safe, and full of trust.”
Your eyes softened, and you covered her hand with yours, saying nothing but giving her a look that held everything she needed to know. You weren’t ready yet, but Isa’s patience meant the world to you.
So, life continued. You grew more open, letting yourself be more at ease. Isa noticed the subtle ways you began to change—the quiet confidence that started to return, the warmth in your touch, the way you kissed her a little longer each morning. Your bond grew deeper, and Isa felt a pride she couldn’t put into words, watching you heal, knowing she had created a space for you to feel safe.
Then, as time passed, things shifted. Slowly but surely, the weight you carried seemed lighter, and the shadows in your gaze began to lift. You still had difficult days, times when memories resurfaced, and Isa could sense your mind drifting to a place she couldn’t reach. But you no longer shut her out. You let her in, allowing her to be with you even when the darkness threatened to creep back in.
And Isa never pushed. She loved you, and that was more than enough.
Soon, your birthday arrived, a day Isa had been secretly looking forward to it. There was no need for grand gestures—it was just a day for the two of you, a time to celebrate how far you had come together. You spent the day as you always did—laughing, reminiscing, and filling each other’s lives with stories and small joys. That evening, after a cozy dinner at your favorite little restaurant, you walked home hand-in-hand, the city lights shimmering like stars around you, the crisp night air wrapping you both in a sense of warmth and belonging.
When you got home, you pulled her into your arms as soon as you crossed the doorway, your embrace tender but filled with affection. Isa’s heart fluttered as you whispered softly against her hair.
“Happy birthday,” she murmured, looking up at you with a soft smile.
“Thank you,” you replied, gazing back at her with a warmth that made her feel like the only person in the world.
The rest of the evening was spent together, curled up on the couch, comfortable and content in your little bubble. Isa had no expectations for the night; she was simply grateful to be with you, sharing another beautiful year. But as the night wore on, she noticed something different in your demeanor—a quiet intensity in your gaze, a sense of anticipation in your touch, as though you were building up to something.
Later, as you lay in bed, you turned to her, your eyes searching hers, the sincerity and calmness in your gaze making her heart race.
“Chae,” you began softly, your voice a bit shy, a hint of hesitation as you traced gentle patterns on her arm. “I’ve been thinking about what you said… about showing me what real love feels like.”
Isa blinked, her heart suddenly pounding. She hadn’t expected you to bring it up—not tonight, not even ever if you didn’t want to. She sat up a little, holding your gaze, her excitement barely contained.
You took a steadying breath, your fingers curling around hers. “I think I’m ready,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to try… with you.” Your eyes softened, the weight of your words filled with trust. “I trust you, more than anyone.”
Isa’s breath caught, her heart swelling with joy. You had always been the one to gently refuse when she offered to give you head, and she had never thought you’d be the one to ask.
And then, as if reading her thoughts, you added softly, “I was wondering if… if you’d still want to. I mean, if you still wanted to… you know…”
“Yes!” Isa answered, her voice bright with excitement before you could even finish your sentence. Her cheeks flushed, a soft, shy laugh escaping her as she realized how eagerly she’d spoken. “I mean… yes,” she whispered, this time more softly, her face glowing with love and anticipation.
Your eyes lit up at her response, and Isa couldn’t stop the smile spreading across her face. She’d been waiting for this—not just because of the act itself, but because it meant you trusted her in a way you hadn’t been able to before.
“You’re sure?” Isa whispered, her voice tender, but her heart raced with excitement. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to… I’d be happy to wait.”
You smiled, reaching up to gently cup her cheek. “I’m sure,” you murmured, warmth in your eyes. “I want this. With you.”
With a soft smile, Isa moved closer, leaning down to press gentle kisses along your chest, her lips trailing slowly, savoring the feel of your skin. Each kiss was a promise, filled with the love she held for you—a love that was gentle, safe, and real, just as she had always hoped to give.
As her kisses moved lower, Isa could feel your breath deepen, the slow rise and fall of your chest as you allowed yourself to relax. Her hands slid down your torso, brushing over the hard planes of your stomach, and she smiled to herself, feeling the slight shiver of your muscles responding to her touch. There was something deeply intimate about these moments—something Isa had craved, not just for herself, but for you.
She reached your hips, her fingers teasing along the waistband of your boxers, and she could feel the tension there, the quiet anticipation that came with trusting someone enough to let them in. Isa paused, her lips brushing against your hip bone as she looked up at you, meeting your eyes.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice a soft whisper, wanting to make sure you were truly ready.
Your gaze met hers, your breathing a little heavier now, but there was no hesitation in your eyes. You gave her a small nod, your hand threading gently through her hair. “I’m okay,” you whispered. “I’m more than okay.”
With a gentle nod from you, Isa slowly pulled down your boxers, revealing you to her. For a moment, she simply paused, admiring you, taking in the quiet beauty of this moment—your body, open and vulnerable, trusting her completely in the most intimate way. Her heart swelled with love, understanding that this wasn’t just about the act itself but about showing you that intimacy could be safe and beautiful.
Her hand wrapped around you first, her touch soft and unhurried. She felt you respond immediately, a subtle tension running through your muscles as her fingers moved in a gentle, deliberate rhythm. Isa’s heart skipped as she saw you like this—open, trusting, letting her guide each moment. She brushed her thumb over the sensitive tip, watching as your breath hitched, your hand tightening slightly in her hair, not guiding or pushing, just resting there, a silent expression of trust.
Isa lowered her head, taking you into her mouth with tender care, her lips wrapping slowly around you as she savored the warmth of your skin. She moved deliberately, her hands resting on you, steady and reassuring, her mouth exploring you with gentle affection. Each movement was thoughtful, her focus entirely on you, every moment filled with care.
She heard soft sounds escape your lips—quiet, breathy sighs that let her know you were starting to let go. Your hand stayed light on her head, not guiding, just there, a reassuring reminder that you felt safe. Isa moved at her own pace, unhurried, making sure each second was filled with intention and love. There was no rush, no goal; she simply wanted you to feel safe, to understand that this could be pure and healing.
Isa found herself enjoying each second, more deeply than she had expected. It wasn’t just about your pleasure—it was about seeing you let go, watching your body respond in a way that showed you were leaving the pain of the past behind. A quiet warmth flooded her chest, a sense of fulfillment, knowing she was finally able to give you this kind of love and closeness.
As she continued, Isa felt your breathing grow more unsteady, your muscles tensing as you edged closer. Her movements remained gentle but purposeful, her hand and mouth moving in sync. Every soft sound you made, every shiver, filled her with pride, knowing you were allowing her to take you to this vulnerable place. To her, it felt like a gift you were both sharing.
A moment later, your breath hitched sharply, your hand tightening in her hair as if bracing yourself. “Oh, fuck, Chae,” you breathed out, voice thick with a blend of surprise and pleasure. Hearing her name from you, Isa felt a surge of warmth, a quiet assurance that you were allowing yourself to feel fully, without holding back.
Your body tensed one last time, every muscle tightening as Isa felt the warmth of your release fill her mouth, unexpectedly intense. Her eyes widened in slight surprise, her heart swelling with the depth of the trust you had placed in her. The sensation was overwhelming, but she held steady, her lips remaining gentle and firm around you as she guided you through each wave, ensuring you felt safe, cherished, and seen.
As each pulse flowed into her, Isa’s movements grew even more tender, her hands holding you with care, a gentle presence as she felt you surrender completely. She swallowed softly, letting you essence fill her completely, her touch light and reassuring. Each subtle twitch, each surge of release, was a testament to the vulnerability you were willing to share, and she received it all with love.
With every pump, Isa could feel your tension melting away, and a quiet pride blossomed within her. She knew what this moment meant—that you had entrusted her with something sacred, a vulnerability once guarded. She felt a sense of fulfillment, a deep sense of joy and purpose, as she coaxed you through each wave, letting you know with every gentle movement that you were safe and deeply cherished.
Keeping her mouth softly around you, Isa lingered, savoring the warmth of every response from your body. Each twitch, each gentle pulse, filled her with satisfaction, a connection she had longed to share with you. This was her love in action, a gift of care and devotion. The fullness of that feeling glowed within her, making each touch an act of affection.
When you glanced down, your breath caught at the sight of her—her mouth still gently surrounding you, her eyes meeting yours with a look so full of care, warmth, and adoration that it sent a shiver through you. Her gaze was unwavering, her expression beautifully open, filled with a love that went beyond words.
With a slow, tender swirl of her tongue, Isa gently lapped up every last trace, her movements graceful and attentive, savoring each second. Her lips stayed around you until she released you with a soft, lingering pop. She then pressed a gentle kiss to your tip, a shimmering thread connecting her lips to you for a moment before it faded, leaving her with a soft smile of pure contentment.
Feeling deeply fulfilled, Isa continued to shower you with tender kisses, each one unhurried and filled with meaning. She traced a delicate path along your length, her mouth warm, her kisses gentle and intentional, as though committing every inch of you to memory. Her heart swelled with love and pride, knowing that you were allowing her to be this close, to give you this intimacy. Each kiss felt like a balm, a way of rewriting the past, easing old hurts with a touch that was gentle and true.
She took her time, mixing in soft licks with her kisses, her gaze never leaving yours. She wanted you to feel her presence in every touch, to know that this was her gift to you—a gift of safety, of trust, of unconditional love.
With one final, lingering kiss to your tip, Isa’s lips held there, as if sealing a promise. Then, slowly, she began to kiss her way back up, her warm lips trailing along your skin, savoring every inch. Each kiss felt like an affirmation, a reminder that she was exactly where she wanted to be, giving herself to you in a way that felt both sacred and healing.
When she finally lay beside you, your chest was still rising and falling, your breath heavy as you came down from the high of her love. Isa rested her hand lightly on your chest, feeling the steady beat of your heart beneath her palm, her own heart swelling with fulfillment and joy.
For a few quiet moments, neither of you spoke, letting the silence fill with warmth and contentment. Finally, as your breathing settled, you turned to Isa, your eyes wide, your expression a mixture of amazement and gratitude. For a moment, you seemed at a loss for words, simply gazing at her with a quiet reverence. And then, with a soft laugh, you shook your head, holding her close, knowing that words could never capture what you both had just shared.
“Honey… that was…” You paused, breath still uneven, feeling your heart race as you searched for words. “I mean, I don’t even know what to say. That was… incredible. You’re incredible.”
Isa’s lips curved into a soft smile, her own chest warm with the closeness you’d just shared. She let out a laugh, eyes bright as she leaned her head against your shoulder. “Speechless?” she teased, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. “I think that might be a first.”
You laughed, shaking your head, still catching your breath. “I don’t think I’ll find words anytime soon. That was… way beyond anything I ever imagined it could be.” You rubbed a hand over your face, still looking a bit dazed. “Chae, you’re just… I can’t believe how... we need to do that again.”
Isa let out another soft laugh, her face lighting up as she took in your reaction, the awe in your expression making her feel more than just appreciated—she felt deeply cherished, like she had given you a gift that mattered. Leaning in, she pressed a playful kiss to your nose. “Glad I could surprise you,” she whispered, her voice filled with warmth.
You grinned, still in awe. “Surprise doesn’t even cover it,” you said, shaking your head, the sincerity in your voice deepening. “That was…wow.”
Isa’s laughter softened, a tender look settling in her eyes as her fingers traced soft, comforting circles on your chest. “Well, I’m glad I could be the one to show you,” she said, her voice gentle, filled with love. “You deserve to feel this way, to feel safe, to feel everything. And… I’m just glad I could be here for you.”
You reached for her hand, intertwining your fingers, giving them a gentle, lingering squeeze. “Thank you,” you murmured, voice thick with emotion as you met her gaze. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to find someone like you.”
Isa’s playful smile softened, her gaze warm as she squeezed your hand in return. “I think we’re both pretty lucky,” she said, a light laugh escaping her as she nestled closer. “And honestly, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
You shook your head, still grinning. “Lucky doesn’t even come close,” you whispered, pulling her close, wrapping your arms around her as if to hold onto this moment forever.
You lay together, letting the silence settle between you, comfortable and content, Isa’s heart swelling with joy at having been able to share this moment with you, and you filled with gratitude for her presence, her patience, and her love. She leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your chest, letting her lips linger over the steady beat of your heart. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice soft and full of warmth.
You pulled her even closer, feeling her warmth against you, a profound sense of peace washing over you. “I love you too, Chaeyoung,” you replied, voice low and filled with sincerity. “More than I ever thought possible.”
With a quiet sigh, Isa tucked herself into you, her hand resting over your heart as the two of you let the night wrap around you, safe in each other’s arms, both knowing that this love was everything you had ever needed.
#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#kpop smut#girl group smut#reader insert#male reader#kinkvember#kinkvember 2024#stayc#stayc smut#stayc isa#lee chaeyoung#isa smut#stayc isa smut#isa x reader
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how about hotch fluff with reader who's love language is acts of services?
a bit longer
oh to spoil and love on aaron 🥰 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, fluff <3
You'd do anything to make Aaron's life easier.
He worked tremendously hard, took on a lot - things, scenarios beyond your own comprehension, and still came home as the loving, extraordinary man he was, both as a partner and a father.
You wanted to help in any way you could. Even if that meant setting an alarm for far too early.
He's told you before, and it wasn't surprising either, he would wake up early while on a case, to iron his suit jacket as needed. And while it made perfect sense, you weren't afraid to admit it tugged at your heartstrings in a melancholy, endearing way.
Last night, Aaron had gotten home much later than he would have liked, missed seeing Jack altogether, as he was already asleep. He ate a quick dinner, and climbed into bed with you.
As a result, he hadn't been in the best mood going to sleep, especially considering he had to wake up early to iron the one suit he had at home - he defeatedly expressed as he got comfortable. The rest were at the cleaners, which was closed by the time he left the office. He even uttered the consideration of using the spare jacket he left at the office.
Aaron didn't get enough sleep to begin with. And unbeknownst to him, after he quickly drifted off, you sneakily shut off his alarm and turned yours on.
Six in the morning came fast. The second the tone rang, you shut it off, hoping it hadn't managed to awake Aaron. You laid there silently for a moment or two, just to ensure he hadn't stirred. He was either the world's heaviest sleeper, or the lightest, depending on the day.
When you were confident he hadn't, you slipped out of bed. Slowly. Lifting the arm slung over your waist and setting it gently aside, peeling back the blanket, or Aaron didn't subconsciously feel your weight leaving the comfort of bed. You exited the bedroom just as leisurely - heading towards the laundry room and hoping you didn't stub your toe in the dark hallway in the process.
His suit was already hung and waiting, right where he left it the night before. After blinking several times to adjust to the light, you clicked the iron on, yawning as you waited for it to warm up.
You turned his suit jacket inside out, preventing any potential damage to the material. In addition, you triple checked the heat setting, making sure it was the proper one. You started with the back: laying it flat on the board and gliding it along the surface in a steady motion.
The floor creaked behind you. Glancing behind your shoulder, you saw Aaron leaning against the doorframe, rubbing his eye.
"What're you doing up?" He asked, raspy.
You ignored his question, offering a gentle, lazy smile in return. "Go back to sleep."
His eyebrows furrowed over his eyes as he observed you. He was thoroughly - and adorably - more confused due to his sleep induced haze. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing you need to worry about. So go back to sleep." You insisted softly, resuming your task. But contrary to your words, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. It was all too easy to lean back into Aaron's embrace.
"Ironing my suit?" His voice was closer now, at level with your ear. The proximity enhanced his sexy, deep morning voice. "What time is it?"
"That's not important." You teased with a shrug, flipping his jacket to tackle the front next. Your following few words left you nonchalantly, as if it were no big deal. And it wasn't. "I changed yours, and set mine."
He blinked, still waking up and still trying to comprehend what was happening. "Why?"
"So you could get more sleep."
His hold on you loosened slightly, pleasantly surprised. "You didn't need to do that."
"I know." You simply put it, pressing down on the jacket's lapels. "I wanted to."
"I could've-"
"Honey, you don't get nearly enough sleep as it is. If me doing this," you shook the iron lightly for emphasis, "means you get an extra thirty minutes, I want you to get those thirty extra minutes. And besides, I wanna help. You come home stressed and your job is demanding and I want to make things easier on you. You do a lot for others, for me, and I want to repay the favor."
You hadn't meant to go off on a tangent, but it was true. You only wished you could give him the whole world (But if someone asked Aaron, you already had).
"Watch where you wave that thing." Aaron quipped, his tone a humorous deadpan. A smile tugged at the ends of his lips, his arms retightening around you, squeezing you lovingly. "You're sweet."
You blushed at the simple compliment, "And you work too hard."
"Then it's a good thing I have you to slow me down." He kissed your temple, and you could just feel the love radiating off him, he didn't need to verbally say it. "Thank you sweetheart. Seriously."
"You're welcome, now will you please go back to bed? Or do I need to threaten you with the iron again?"
Aaron laughed, a hand squeezing your hip affectionately. "Only if you join me. I could care less if my suit has one more, minor wrinkle if it means I get to lay with you a bit longer."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds drabble#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#hotch imagine#criminal minds x fem!reader
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fontana di trevi | 02
you seek out a vampire to help you with something.
pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader
genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)
word count: 9k
warnings: same as last time basically: blood, needles, suicidal thoughts and intentions
rating: NC-17 – Adults Only
masterlist
part 2/2
<previous | next>
© between takes is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.
“Thanks,” you smile politely as you close the car door, hearing the Uber drive off behind you. The walk up to the house is no different than last time, yet it definitely feels different. Both because of what happened almost a week ago, but also since you’re hoping this will be the last time.
What certainly is different is the surprised look on the vampire’s face as he opens the door to see you standing there with your hands in the pockets of your winter coat.
He himself is wearing a black hoodie, and once again, black shorts. His hair looks a little messier than how you’re used to seeing it. Almost like he’s been sleeping. Vampires don’t sleep, though, do they?
“I… didn’t think you’d show,” he admits honestly, nonetheless opening the door wider for you, and as you enter, you can’t help but think that he looks… almost cuddly.
Of course, he still gives off the usual intimidating aura, and he should probably be even scarier to you considering what happened last time you met him, but… you don’t know. Perhaps you’re just so deprived of human touch that a bloodthirsty vampire’s cold embrace seems inviting.
This time, he waits in the hallway while you step out of your shoes and remove your coat.
“Yeah, I still want this. I just… wasn’t prepared,” you explain rather vaguely, knowing that he understands exactly what you’re getting at anyway. You want to die but on your terms.
“It wasn’t my intention. To do what I did.”
You meet his eyes. It’s not an outright apology, but it feels eerily close to one.
“You were there to… feed, weren’t you?”
He nods. “Didn’t get the chance to on Thursday or Friday.”
It’s your turn to nod in understanding. For a short moment, you stand there, looking at each other.
Until you break the silence. “So, can we start?”
“Sure,” he agrees, turning around to head toward the kitchen.
Like the first time you showed up to his house when he didn’t think you were going to, he has to bring the supplies from wherever he keeps them. You take your spot at the table, slip off your cardigan, and wait.
The vampire returns with his hands full, placing the stuff down on the table before he pulls out another chair and positions it the same way as always. But his focus lies on your skin.
“These are new bruises?” he asks, carefully grasping your hand and very gently lifting it to better inspect the yellowing marks covering your skin. “You always bruise like this after?”
You follow his gaze. There are currently three bruises on your right arm, none the same as the night he almost killed you. Two are yellow and from when you bumped into a dresser at home a few days ago. The third is purple but smaller and its origin a mystery. If he wanted to see bruises, he should’ve seen the ones on your legs after you fell when he attacked you.
“Not the first time, but yeah. Usually just from the needle site, but lately, it’s all over. I guess I’m a little deficient in something,” you joke quietly, but the vampire doesn't laugh.
“Why does it interest you so much? Do you have some kind of medical degree?” you ask, thinking back to when he first asked you why you didn’t wonder about his apparent knowledge.
“Not officially, but being dependent on humans like we are to some extent, you tend to pick up on stuff, and having been around as long as I have, it’s even more unavoidable. But I’ve never seen bruising this severe from blood loss.”
Fair enough. Your body should definitely try to keep the little blood remaining inside your veins, where it belongs.
He starts prepping your arm, but instead of looking away, you close your eyes. Are you imagining things or has he been… softer lately? Making sure you got home safely instead of leaving you to your fate, almost worrying about your bruises, and being gentler in the way he attaches the needle? Then again, he’s only making sure you can give him as much blood as possible, and he also would’ve probably killed you if he’d gotten ahold of you last week.
“I take it you’ve killed before?”
There’s a few seconds of silence, but then he answers, and there’s nothing hidden in his words or voice that reveals something more.
“I have.”
“How do you…,” you start, unsure of how to phrase your question. “I mean, what do you do… after?”
“Are you asking…?”
“How do you… dispose of them? And… I guess, how will you dispose of… me?”
It’s not really a sensitive question for you, so you’re not sure for whose sake you’re so careful. You doubt the vampire really cares.
You hear him exhale. “I guess it depends on the circumstances. I haven’t planned anything.”
You wince when he sticks you, more painful this time for some reason. The ball is placed in your hand like always, and you start to squeeze it.
Your curiosity isn’t that dire, so you’re not disappointed by his answer. Maybe he’s not even being honest, and it’s for your sake? Which brings you back to why he’s being extra gentle. The only other explanation you can think of is that he feels sorry for you. Maybe he just truly wants to spare you unnecessary pain and worry in the last moments of your pathetic life? Because this is it. With how shitty you’ve been feeling these last couple of weeks and especially since last time, you know it won’t be long. Today’s the day.
One bag. He can take one bag and after that he’ll have to end it. That way, you don’t have to bleed out, and he’ll get as much blood as possible. If he takes your advice about how to drain the rest, well, that’s up to him.
You’re startled by the sound of knocking, opening your eyes to see the vampire rise from his chair, seemingly sharing your surprise. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Nodding, you close your eyes again, getting as comfortable as you can in the chair while wondering who’s at the door. A vampire friend? A vampire partner? Surely, he doesn’t hang out with humans on the regular? You always got the impression, both from him and vampires in pop culture, that they don’t really care for humans. In fact, a dirty human only pesters a vampire’s environment unless they’re actively dying.
Your heart hurts. It’s beating heavily inside your chest, a feeling you’ve grown somewhat used to over the weeks, but it feels undeniably worse. Like every beat is a painful and exhausting accomplishment. Your breaths grow heavier too.
Surely, it’s been more than a minute. Is he on his way back? If he were a human, chatting with another human at the front door, maybe you would’ve heard them, but you can’t discern anything.
It feels a little like your head’s in the clouds, and you’re not sure if your eyes are still closed or if they’re open and you just can’t see anything. You have a feeling that not only can’t you hear the vampire, you can’t hear anything anymore.
Realizing that this is it, you try to call for him quietly to tell him so, but although you’re pretty certain you’re dying, for some reason, you don’t want to interrupt whatever he’s doing with his visitor.
“Fine, alright, I’ll talk to him, but please, this is not a good time.”
“But he’s being an ass, and you were the last person he spoke to before he left for fucking Iceland.”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes at his friend, Yuqi. With how much she and Taehyung love each other, there’s a surprising amount of drama.
“I don’t wanna get involved. I’ll call him later.”
“Fine, get back to me after. If he doesn’t answer, I’m taking the first flight.”
“Vampire?”
Yuqi, who was just about to turn around to leave, stops in her tracks.
“What… was that?” she asks, standing still before discreetly scenting the air. “Is that… blood?”
Jeongguk’s eyes widen. He’s used to smelling blood whenever you’re there to leave it, but not this much. Quickly, and without regard to Yuqi, he turns to rush back into his kitchen, eyes going even wider at the vision in front of him.
“Vampire?” you call out quietly again from the chair, eyes closed and unknowing of his return. You seem out of it, bordering on unconscious, and it’s not without reason. Jeongguk curses himself for not double checking the blood bag when he knows that brand is prone to ripping because the bag isn’t full; it’s broken, and your blood is dripping into a big puddle of red on the floor.
You think… you’re being… carried? By someone firm and… warm. You like that.
“I’m not warm," a low voice comments. "At least I’m not supposed to be.”
“I’m dying… right?” you mumble, feeling how the vampire puts you down on something soft.
“Probably, yeah.”
He does something to your arms, and you can’t figure out what, but you realize it has something to do with collecting the remaining blood when you’re gone.
There’s another voice.
Next time you open your eyes, you feel… different. And upset. You’re not as dizzy as you’ve become accustomed to, and the room doesn’t spin when you sit up on the bed. Your body hurts, but it feels more like you’re simply tired and beat than extremely weak. Most importantly, you feel, which means you’re not dead.
As if he could sense your awakening—or just possesses superhuman hearing—a door opens to reveal the vampire. He's wearing other clothes, grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and his face doesn't give you anything.
“What happened?” you question, looking around the room that’s clearly a bedroom. “And where am I?”
“You passed out. There was a hole in the bag, so the blood was just leaking onto the floor. I had my friend steal some from the hospital, and I gave you a transfusion. Yuqi also brought some clothes and stuff for you, so you’re staying here at least until tomorrow. Then you’re free to leave whenever you want.”
“I… don’t understand. Why would you—why not just let me go then?”
“I changed my mind.”
You look at him, bewildered and trying to find the words. “What do you mean you changed your mind? We had an agreement?”
“I know, but I changed my mind. I’m not doing it. If the blood matters to you, the bags are in the freezer.”
“Why–what would I do with blood?” you question in frustration. Is he offering it back in case you want to drink it? Try to put it back inside your veins? Apparently, you’ve already had transfusions, so you have exactly zero use for frozen bags of blood. “Why can’t you just get on with it? Why not let me die?”
“I do not. Want. To,” he hisses.
You stare at him in silence, feeling confused and betrayed. He looks away but doesn't seem affected. No shame, no regret, no anything but a moment of frustration to breach otherwise calm determination.
“Here’s the stuff,” he gestures toward a duffel bag by the foot of the bed. “You have a bathroom right outside, and I’m gonna order some food for you. You should take it easy; I wasn’t able to give you as much blood as you really need, and unfortunately, what I’ve previously collected isn’t fit to give back. Since it’s been frozen and stored improperly for that kind of purpose, there would be a risk of clotting.”
You look at him from where you’re sitting on his bed, and he looks back at you. The irritation you feel grows beyond what you’re capable of conveying, and so it turns into defeat. It makes you angry, how he managed to back out of giving you what you wanted at the very last second. You spent months upholding your end of the deal, and when it finally came time for him to do the same, he didn’t.
“Don’t bother,” you lie down slowly, your back facing him where he stands at the door. Silently, you curse your body for feeling so tired; ideally, you’d stomp out of there, slamming the door behind you. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”
Your own clothes are still wearable. The few stains of blood are relatively small and dried, and the vampire already placed you on his bed, so you don’t feel like you’ll do any more damage by sleeping in them. The house is quiet, but you don’t think he’s left it, which begs the question of where he is. And also if he sleeps and if he does, then… where? He never gave you a tour or anything, so you have no idea what the rest of his house looks like. Whatever; you don’t care, anyway.
His sheets smell clean, though, and it doesn’t take you long to pass out, truly exhausted.
When you wake up, you can’t find your phone, and without any other time measuring device, you don’t know what time it is. It appears like the sun rose not too long ago so that narrows your guess a little bit at least.
Sitting up slowly, you take a deep breath. You feel… okay. A bit sore almost, but more energetic than you have in a while. Unfortunately, it’s not necessarily a good thing in your book.
Sighing, you put your feet to the hardwood floor. They carry you with only a little dizziness, and you set your sight on the bedroom door. It opens smoothly, and you peer out, looking for the bathroom the vampire mentioned. There’s a door immediately to your left which you guess must be it, and so you head toward it.
After successfully finding the bathroom and using it, you decide to continue the search for your phone. Since you thought last night would be your last and therefore arrived by Uber rather than driving, it means that without your phone, you have no way home.
You make your way down some stairs, recognizing the hallway as the one the vampire has led you through what feels like countless times. Last time you remember having your phone was in the kitchen, so that’s where you steer your steps.
As luck would have it, the kitchen is also where the vampire happens to be. Upon your entrance, your eyes immediately fall on the tall man where he stands, leaning back against the counter. Although he surely heard you approaching a long time ago, he only turns his head slowly toward you when you’re well into the room. He’s hard to read; doesn’t offer much.
“Do you know where my phone is?”
The vampire twists his body to look at the counter behind him, sliding something toward you. You take a step closer, inspecting the device when it’s in your hands. Three percent.
“Do you have a charger I can borrow?”
“Yeah,” he answers with a nod and pushes off the counter, leaving the kitchen. You wait, quietly wondering what exactly goes on inside his head. He seems unfazed by the whole ordeal, which doesn’t necessarily surprise you. But what you still don’t quite understand is why he claimed to have changed his mind. Could it be that he just didn’t want to deal with your body?
The vampire returns with a white charger in his hand, his skin cold against yours when you accept it from him. Finding a fitting outlet near the table, you plug the charger in and sit down, gazing out through the window while you wait for the phone to charge enough for the trip home. The vampire has gone back to leaning wordlessly against the counter, and you ignore him.
Opening your phone, you find that the only unread notification you have is a spam email. Why are you surprised? With a small sigh, you lock the device again, hoping it’ll charge faster if you don’t use it. Forty percent should be enough.
It’s snowing outside, and you watch the big snowflakes fall slowly and silently to the already white ground. Waiting like this gives you time to go over all the things you’ve done wrong in your life.
Next time you unlock your phone, the battery has reached thirty-seven percent. You open the Uber app to see that a car can arrive in ten minutes. You confirm it, noting the time as eleven twenty-three. You’ll wait five more minutes before you start getting ready, which honestly is just putting your shoes and coat on.
The seconds pass slowly one after the other. You wonder briefly how long it took the vampire to clean because, although you didn’t notice the blood dripping to the floor while it was happening, you understood that there was a lot of it. Must suck for him to have it wasted like that. The question is also why he would waste even more blood by giving you a transfusion? If he went through the pain of acquiring bagged blood, why not just drink that?
At eleven twenty-nine, your phone’s battery is at fifty-two percent. You unplug the charger from the wall, and as you stand, you place it on the table with a quiet ‘thanks.’
“Going home?” the vampire wonders, black eyes watching you. He looks casual, but there’s that hint of softness shining through again.
You pass him on your way to the front door. “Yeah.”
“Reconsider,” he encourages, and you know he’s not talking about your journey home.
You roll your eyes. “No.”
“Yes,” he follows. “Whatever’s troubling you doesn’t matter. There’s so much for you to see and do, so many places to visit and people to meet. Your life is so incredibly short, and you won’t have time to see even a fraction of the world as is.”
“Thanks for the pep talk,” you say, bending down to put your boots on.
“Have you even been outside of this town?”
Why is he trying to control you? He doesn’t know you; he doesn’t care. It’s not like you’ll magically be fine after his ‘cheer up, pal,’ and ending your life is not a decision you have taken hastily or easily.
“No.”
“Don’t you want to see what’s out there?”
“Of course. But it’s not…” you straighten up to look at him, frustration dripping from your words. “Don’t you see that I’m all alone? I don’t have anybody, no one to experience things with, and much less the money to just up and leave. Sure, maybe I could get a loan and travel through Italy for two weeks, but then what? I’ll be miserable and in debt.”
The vampire tilts his head, looking at you with his black eyes but not saying anything. He just doesn't understand. You put your other foot into your boot and reach for your coat before he can try to persuade you again for whatever reason.
“Whatever,” you sigh, “I’ll be going.”
He doesn’t stop you from opening the door, and he doesn’t follow you when you leave, one boot undone and with your coat held to your chest. Irritation turns to sadness and defeat as you wait for the Uber to arrive, taking the opportunity to actually put your coat on and tie your laces properly. Snow falls around you, and when you're done, you stand there, waiting pathetically by the side of the road in the cold. You’re back at square one.
Despite having slept for countless hours at the vampire’s house, you head straight for your bed the moment you return home. For another few hours, you sleep, and then you spend a few more lying there in the dark, thinking.
It’s seven p.m. on a Saturday. You’ve wasted a lot of time, months even, waiting for the vampire to get what he wanted and follow through on his part. But that’s over now, so what are you waiting for right now?
Two and a half hours later, you put your boots back on and throw a lighter jacket over your shoulders, one that allows easier access to your neck.
Still not feeling your best, it takes you fifteen minutes to walk what the vampire did in six, carrying you on his back. You don’t understand him. He acted like he didn’t want you to die, but if he cared about you at all, he would’ve backed out earlier and not waited until his actions brought you within an inch of your life for what, the third time? Was he hoping you’d stay alive so that you’d hopefully continue donating your blood, even if less frequently?
Although nearing his feeding grounds, you’re hoping not to run into him. He did state that he changed his feeding days to Thursdays, and last week, when you did run into him, it seemed like a coincidence. Besides, this place is your best bet tonight; even the vampire admitted that there were others there last time. Surely, they’re around here somewhere tonight as well.
Since you assume vampires don’t want unnecessary attention, you stake out near the same club as last week, but this time, you hide in the shadows around a corner. Then, you wait for a victim.
Thirty minutes to midnight, a woman stumbles out through the door, a bouncer holding it open for her. She’s obviously had a bit to drink, and as she clumsily fixes her little cross body bag and sets off along the street, you look around from your hiding spot.
But you don’t see or hear anything; not a dark figure moving nor the sound of footsteps. Still, you follow her, hoping for the best. Wanting to keep your distance, you instead find it hard to keep up with her, which is saying something about your current health.
About two hundred meters from the club, she suddenly slows down, her attention seemingly drawn to something in an alleyway. You weren’t sure exactly how the vampires hunt, but by how the woman begins to slowly drift inside the dark alleyway of her own accord, you guess they do have some kind of pull. Most women, even when slightly drunk, typically try not to do… that.
You quicken your steps as much as possible without breaking into a sprint. Not only do you want to speak to a vampire; if you can take that woman’s place and leave her unscathed, it’s an added bonus. Before you’ve caught up, the woman slowly and quietly disappears, and when you turn the corner with your phone in hand and flashlight turned on, you spot a man holding her to his body.
Evidently hearing you approaching, the man has placed them against the wall, halfway obscured by a dumpster and hoping you’d walk past them, which you would have if you weren’t so focused on the woman and your mission.
The man squints in the light, and you very clearly discern long fangs. You take another step into the alleyway, but what you didn’t expect was to be grabbed from another direction.
Gasping, you feel strong arms hold your back against someone’s chest, effortlessly keeping you immobile.
“What can we offer? Though you smell like vampire already?” The man who holds you says, sounding surprised, and your phone is taken from your hand and the flashlight turned off.
Obviously, they assume you’re one of the freaky ones looking for vampires because any normal person would run. Your reason for wanting to find one is different, though.
“I have a proposition,” you stutter, not too scared but uncomfortable with how the man noses at your neck. Despite knowing that if the vampire bites, it’ll most likely be your neck, you can’t help trying to pull away. It’s just another bodily reaction.
Your words intrigue him, and he moves, creating just a tad bit more space between your bodies and looking down at you with a curious smirk.
“A proposition, you say?”
“You can have my blood—all of it—if you take it right here and now.”
“What’s the catch?” he asks, raising an eyebrow much like a certain vampire you know. “What’s in it for you?”
“There is no catch. I want to die.”
The other vampire, curiously listening to your conversation, whispers something in the other woman’s ear, and lets her go. She stumbles away from him and then casually leaves the alleyway, turning the corner calmly as if nothing happened.
You meet the vampire’s puzzled yet curious eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with my blood if you think I’m trying to trick you into something. Except that it’s apparently B positive which I understand is not that desirable, but—”
“You’re Jeon’s human?”
“Uh—what? Who?” you ask, confused but slowly putting two and two together.
“Fuck, should we?” the other vampire questions quietly.
“Jeon,” the closest one to you starts, “is the vampire you smell of. He’s been very persistent no one touches his human.”
“Yeah. Can’t blame him. If I was lucky enough to have someone offer to be a walking blood bag, I wouldn’t let them outside at all.”
“I’m not… I’m not anyone’s, and I’m not a walking blood bag,” you explain, feeling belittled. “He made me a promise that he broke. He was going to help me die in exchange for my blood, but he just used me to collect blood, and then he didn’t deliver.”
The two vampires look at each other, and you feel like they didn’t really pay attention to anything you just said.
“I don’t know, man. I’m not sure I wanna get on his bad side.”
“But he’s too arrogant,” the first one complains. “If I want something, why should he prevent me from getting it? He doesn’t own the supply here. I’m a thousand years old; I shouldn’t need to ask for permission.”
“Dude’s like three thousand years old, though? You don’t need to ask permission; you can literally choose anyone. Except this one, for some reason. I don’t think I would if I were you.”
“Our agreement is over,” you try to enter the conversation the two vampires are holding over your head.
“Well,” the one holding your arms peers down at you, “He said that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to touch you.”
You scoff, growing irritated again, “Okay, well, are there any vampires around that aren’t such wimps? If I can’t find anyone to just snap my neck, I’m going to the train tracks and then my blood will be wasted.”
That’s a lie, of course. There’s a reason you picked death by vampire; you’re too scared to do it any other way, and no matter how much you want to die, you can’t subject anyone else—like a poor train driver—to it. Vampires are cold and heartless. They don’t care.
“Hold on. Wait,” the vampire holds you tighter when you haphazardly try to wiggle out of his grasp.
“Look,” he says to the other, “He can’t tell us what to do. Besides, if he gets angry, we can just say that she said their agreement was over, and we did her a favor out of the goodness of our hearts.”
“You don’t have a heart; you just want to annoy him.”
The vampire grins. At first, it’s a boyish smile directed at his friend, but when he slowly tilts his head down to look at you, it turns almost sinister. “I think I’m gonna do it.”
You gulp. No matter how much this is what you want, it does scare you. Mostly because you’re afraid it will be painful.
“Is there a way you can kill me first? I don’t want it to hurt.”
The smiling vampire shakes his head.
“No.”
You thought death was supposed to be a void. A void of darkness, devoid of physical matter, emotions, and thoughts. But it hurts. It hurts so much.
Then, a void does take over.
Jeongguk knew you’d try again. If he wouldn’t kill you, you were going to find someone who would. And despite hoping that you would’ve changed your mind, he was unfortunately right. He spent an hour roaming the dark streets around the town’s attempt at a nightlife, but he didn’t come across you. Not until he visits the same place where you first found him, a place he wouldn’t take as your first choice since you ran into him there a week earlier.
He’s spent hours and hours these last weeks with you on his mind; the little human who wants to die so badly. It’s just something about you and your willingness to die that doesn’t sit right with him, and you won’t leave his thoughts. It’s not his business, he told himself as he saw you curled up and unconscious in your car. Who is he to tell someone what they should do with their life? If anything, respecting your wishes and consuming freely donated blood is easier and more ethical than taking it from plastered people who aren’t really sure what’s going on, right?
The scenes replaying the most in his head are more recent. It’s the way you suggested he kill and butcher your body, saying no one would look for you anyway, and how you called for him, unknowing that your blood was dripping to the floor but still trying your hardest to squeeze that ball for him. Your fingers were barely moving, but you tried since he wanted that blood.
He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, trying to convince you to live, but he guesses that he simply needs to know that you experienced some good things in life too. He can’t let you end it this way, as a lifeless body, discarded somewhere where no one will find you.
Anger, frustration, and an odd feeling of helplessness flood him as he takes in the sight of the vampire in the process of draining you dry. He rushes into the dark alleyway, the vampire looking up from your neck just as Jeongguk strikes. There’s not much of a fight after that. The first vampire stumbles backward, and Jeongguk grabs your lifeless body from him as the second vampire approaches, eyes wide and with his hands raised shoulder height.
“Easy, man.”
“I fucking told you to leave her alone.”
The dazed vampire grumbles something, but Jeongguk doesn’t pay him any attention. He places your body down on the snow-covered ground and looks at your pale face while searching for a pulse right under your jaw.
“She wanted to die.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongguk growls. “How much did you take?”
There is no pulse.
“At least three fourths. Possibly more.”
Jeongguk shuts his eyes. There’s no coming back from that.
You’ve lost and regained consciousness due to blood loss one too many times by now, but this time, it really feels different. Opening your eyes, the sunlight filling the room irritates your eyes, forcing you to squint for a few seconds.
Without moving, you focus on something. The vampire. Jeon, was it? You watch as he rummages through his closet, practically soundlessly, taking out a few items and looking them over before settling on what looks like two black shirts, one long-sleeve and one short-sleeve. Then he digs out a pair of shorts and another pair of sweatpants.
You’re not used to seeing him in direct sunlight, but now, the rays filtering through the half-opened blinds paint him in a new light, and you let your eyes linger on his arms as he folds the clothes. The green t-shirt he wears is doing a great job at highlighting his veiny, muscular forearms as they work. Light and shadows play along those very defined muscles, accentuating them further.
Your first impression of him was a cold one, one that slowly warmed a little over time both physically and mentally. But in this light? Without even touching him, he looks… warmer to you. Inviting, almost like when he wore that black hoodie.
You sigh quietly and pull the blanket that’s thrown over you closer. The vampire hears and turns around, placing the clothes at the foot of his large bed.
“Hey. How are you feeling?”
You take a moment to consider his question. Though you’ve certainly felt better in a lot of ways, you don’t feel the way you’ve come to associate with severe blood loss.
“Cold. And tired, but in a weird way.”
Weird is probably the best way to describe how you’re feeling in general. You feel light, but not weak. Tired, but not sleepy.
He nods understandingly, “It’ll pass.”
You catch his gaze, holding it for a quiet moment. “You changed me, didn’t you?”
It’s the only explanation you can come up with. That vampire was hungry, and you remember slowly losing control in his grasp, both over your body and consciousness. With how many near-death experiences your body has endured in the last weeks—all blood loss related—there just wasn’t any chance you’d survive another draining.
“Yeah.” He looks away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I couldn’t…”
You think you understand well enough what he’s trying to say, although you’re not too sure of his reasons or how to feel about it. He couldn’t let you die. In a way, you’re disappointed because you were finally getting what you wanted, and dying has proved itself to be surprisingly difficult for you.
But you’re not angry; not like you were after the vampire saved you the first time. He mentioned once that not even vampires are immortal, so at least you know that you’re not doomed to an eternal life in suffering; you can always try again if you want. However, you’d be back at square one when it comes to options, but you don’t really feel the urgency anymore. At least not at the moment.
He turns his head toward you, meeting your eyes with his deep, dark ones. “Let me show the world to you.”
Surprised to say the least, you mumble a quiet “What?”
He angles his body further toward you, and you see that despite the softer look on his face, he’s certain. “I want to show you everything the world has to offer. All the good things; the magical places and people.”
Not sure what to say, you just stare at him.
“Vampires are not immortal,” he continues. “If you really don’t want this, I’ll help you die. I promised. But please, think about it. No catch, no expectations.”
“But why… Why would you want that?”
You’ve been alone for so long, unable to keep people around and interested, so why would this being be?
“Because I found that I really didn’t enjoy draining you of your life, especially when you were already so low to begin with. I want you to get the chance to experience the good things life has to offer, and I can’t help but want to be around when you do.”
“You don’t know me though.”
“I kinda want to,” he says, standing up with the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Think about it, okay? I’m not expecting anything from you other than that you consider.”
Still very much processing his words, you feel a cold shiver wreck your body, something the vampire notices.
“I’ll get you another blanket. Your body is still in the process of changing, and with that comes a decrease in temperature. It’s normal to feel cold.”
He’s about to leave when you call for him.
“Wait. What… What's your name? Your given name?”
He stops, and he smiles again. “Jeongguk. And I know yours already; it was on your door.”
You sleep for a little while longer, but when you start to feel better, you also start to think. You’ve been so certain for so long, and you still are—you think—but… either way, you’d like some answers; a clearer view of the whole picture.
“Jeongguk?” you call, unsure how loud you need to be. It feels strange to use a name for the vampire.
It doesn’t take long before the door opens. “Yeah?”
“I have some… questions.”
He nods, stepping into the darkness that is his bedroom and closing the door behind him.
“Light sensitive?” he nods toward the window, where you’ve pulled the curtains closed over the blinds.
“Yeah… Is that normal?”
“It is. So is feeling sensitive to sound, touch, smell; basically all the senses. But it will pass pretty quickly.”
“Okay. Well, can you… tell me everything about being a vampire? I didn’t think you slept, but you do? Or why do I still sleep?”
He rounds the bed to sit next to you, and you feel it sink as he gets comfortable. Slowly, you turn to face him, watching him lean back against the headboard.
“So, basically, we can do all the things humans do. For instance, you’re still programmed to breathe, but it’s more of a habit and a way to smell than a means of survival.”
While he speaks, you try it. It’s strange, holding your breath and not feeling that strong, strong urge to take in air after a while.
“You can eat human food, but it’s not what sustains you, so most vampires don’t. It gets kinda boring after a while; you’ll see what I mean. Most also don’t sleep as they consider it a waste of time, but you can if you want to. I do pretty regularly. I find it… peaceful, and when you get older, it can be nice, getting a break between days.”
Hearing him talk so casually and almost… softly has you smiling slightly, unable to help it. So he had been sleeping when you knocked on the door, and his hair was all messy, and he looked so cuddly? You don’t know why, but you like that thought.
“You can exist in sunlight, you can consume garlic. Mirrors work for us as well. We don’t age like humans, but we can die if we’re pierced through the heart by something wooden—”
“—You mean staked?”
He looks at your wide, amused eyes and rolls his. “Yeah. Staked. Anyway, you’ll notice that your senses are heightened, and you’ll become stronger too. Not stronger than me, though,” he grins. “As for the blood, you can survive on any.”
“Any?”
What does he mean by that? Human and animal?
“Human, animal, vampire,” he says, the last one surprising you.
You blink, taken aback. “Vampires drink from other vampires?”
“We can. It’s not as common as feeding on humans as it’s mostly… a pretty intimate thing to do.”
“Oh, okay.”
Thinking about it, you guess you can see why. Having someone so close, feeding on you without the power imbalance of prey versus predator that feeding on humans entails, must feel… intimate. More of a give and take.
“You’ll need to feed in about a day or two, so you can choose. I have more human blood than just yours as it might be weird to drink your own blood, and I can get animal blood if that feels easier. Or… if you want to, you can drink from me.”
You look at him questioningly. “Didn’t you just say that it’s an intimate thing?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, but if it would make for an easier transition for you, I don’t mind. I’ve taken a lot of blood from you, after all.”
“Okay,” you nod, briefly biting your lip. “I’ll think about it. About all of… this.”
Is death the thing you wanted above all else, or was it to get out of the life you were living? Now that your old life is, in a way, over, you’re not sure. Regardless, there are other worries still plaguing you. You look—almost stare—at his pretty face.
“What?”
You bite your lip nervously again. “What if you change your mind? I’m assuming this was quite a rushed decision on your part. What if I don’t live up to your expectations? I barely knew how to navigate this world as a human, there’s no way I could… manage on my own as… as a vampire.”
Say you decide to give it a shot; what do you do if he grows tired of you?
“Changing someone is not something we take lightly. We don’t…” he looks around, seemingly searching for the right words. “We don’t change anyone if we’re not prepared to guide them, at least through the first years. Usually, vampires only end up turning their romantic partners, so for most, it means staying together for life. Regardless, it’s a big decision.”
Noticing your wide eyes, Jeongguk smiles and chuckles. “I’m not saying you have to hang around me for the rest of your life, and I won’t ask you to play my wife or anything, but I won’t abandon you.”
It’s surprising enough to hear that vampires not only regularly fall in love with humans but take changing someone so seriously. But you’re even more surprised to hear him use the word ‘wife.’
“Your wife?” you ask, truly bewildered that word was even in his thoughts. “You said vampirism doesn't make you much prettier?”
He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “It doesn’t. But you didn’t need to become prettier anyway.”
“Oh, come on.”
“I’m telling the truth? Don’t you remember what I told you when I carried you home that night?”
‘You’re a pretty girl, you know?’
Of course you remember, but it doesn’t mean it was true.
You roll your eyes. “You were feeling bad for me.”
“Hm,” Jeongguk looks away, thinking. “Okay, do you remember the very first thing I said to you?”
“That you weren’t going to turn me?”
“For sex, yeah. But I said I’d still fuck you.”
The smile he gives you reminds you more of the vampire that took your blood once every fortnight than the one who saved you. You don’t know what to say, and he seems to realize that, his smile turning softer.
“Like I said, I would’ve fucked you because you were pretty even as a human. Also, about luring said humans in? You will not have a problem with that if that’s something you’re interested in. I kinda want to see you do that, actually,” he grins, sending a shiver down your spine. “Hot.”
Jeongguk is sitting spread out on the rented apartment’s low couch, reading the back of a bottle of red wine when you pass him. It’s hot—a lot warmer than what you’re used to from your little hometown—and you sigh as you open the door to the balconet wider and fresh air starts to play with your dress. The weather doesn’t affect you like it used to, but some aspects are still more enjoyable than others.
“I think I like Rome,” you place your hands on the railing, looking down at the scene two stories below you. It’s just after ten p.m., and people are dining outside the restaurant below you, their happy chatter accompanied by the romantic sound of street musicians. The air is humid, and besides the moonlight, the street is mainly illuminated by lights from the restaurant and surrounding shops.
You hear Jeongguk put the bottle down on the glass coffee table and stand up, something your human ears wouldn’t have picked up.
“We can stay longer if you want,” he offers quietly from right behind you.
Turning around, you let your gaze travel over his white dress shirt, held together by two single buttons—the rest lazily unbuttoned—and exposing most of his drool-worthy chest. He smirks, looking down at you, and you’re hit by how he hasn’t changed that much since you first met him in that alley. You’ve just gotten to see more sides of him.
You hold your breath, carefully reaching your hand out to pinch the fabric of his shirt between your thumb and index finger, pulling a little on it and nodding.
“Then we’ll stay,” he smiles, slowly stepping back and taking your hand softly in his. His skin feels warm against yours, and it’s almost like some sort of electric current courses through you. You grin as he pulls you toward him, moving to the slow and sensual music drifting up from outside.
Jeongguk lifts your hand above your head and twirls you. It makes you smile even wider, and you decide to place your arms loosely around his neck. He doesn’t object, just looks down at you, still smiling.
One thing you'll never get used to is how handsome he is. Soft, black hair parted across his forehead, dark eyebrows and eyes, and a dimple that pops out when he smiles. One day, you’ll kiss his nose, you promise yourself. He looks so carefree, peering down at you like nothing else really matters; a mindset not too difficult to follow with him.
“How come everything is so… easy?”
He tilts his head, trying to make sense of your words as he places his hands on your waist. “Well… do you feel cared for?”
You think about it. All the new people—vampires—you’ve met so far are very funny and kind. They see you, and they listen to you. Especially Jeongguk’s friends, and even more so, Jeongguk. He’s easy to be around, and he’s been incredibly sweet to you, understanding that you’re going through a big change and that your previous life wasn’t all that great.
So you nod.
“Do you have anything that worries you?” He continues. “A looming anxiety regarding something?”
“No.” Turns out that Jeongguk and all his friends are filthy rich and also very generous, which means that you have no rent to pay, no stuff to buy, or bills to pay. Nor do you have people to impress or time-sensitive achievements to stress over.
Jeongguk’s smile turns extra cheeky. “Do you perhaps… also care a little bit for someone?”
You’d blush if that was something you could do. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”
He chuckles before he turns a little more serious. “Jokes aside, there could be many reasons. Like I said, not feeling lonely or overly anxious surely helps a lot, but also stuff like… the change of scenery and seasons. But also…”
“Also…?”
He looks at you with a searching gaze, as if he’s trying to figure something out. “Tell me, did you ever see someone about how you felt?”
You shake your head.
“So you never got a diagnosis or medication?”
“No.”
“Then, maybe… you weren’t ‘only’ sad, and vampirism corrected some chemical imbalance in your brain. It could also explain why things are easier.”
Maybe. You thought that your mother dying was the catalyst for your sadness, and without seeing the point of the world, you got “weirder,” and the few people in your life withdrew. Then it was just you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t connect with people anymore. But maybe, like he said, it wasn’t ‘only’ feelings. A small part of you wishes you would’ve tried to get help, but a bigger part—although sad for the years you spent suffering—thinks this ending might be better.
He continues to sway your bodies, and you rest your head against his chest. When you left with him three months ago, one month after he changed you, you weren’t entirely certain where things would lead, because despite definitely feeling attracted to him, you didn’t really know him. But as the days pass, you don’t regret it, and you’re pretty sure you’re more than halfway to head over heels. You can’t deny that he gives you butterflies.
Sighing, you catch the scent of his naked skin against your cheek, reminded of something.
“You smell good. I remember thinking that you didn’t smell like anything?”
He laughs as you move your face slowly over his chest and up to his neck, smelling him.
“Do I?”
“Yeah,” you say, breathing him in and closing your eyes. There’s the same notes of laundry detergent, soap, and cologne, but also something unique to him. He doesn’t smell like a human, but… almost. It draws you in, that’s for certain.
“Are you hungry?” he wonders quietly.
“Not sure,” you answer honestly. It’s turned out to be harder to tell than you imagined.
“Well, if you want it… go for it.”
“Like this?” you ask, pushing on his chest with a smile. He lets you walk him slowly back toward the couch, and when the back of his knees hit the edge, he sinks down onto it.
“Mhm,” he hums happily.
High on the vampire equivalent of adrenaline, you straddle his lap, only to be caught off guard by his scent again. “No, but really, you smell so good.”
He chuckles. “Vampires who are more… compatible tend to smell good to each other.”
His revelation has you sitting back, curious but almost a little worried. Despite the details of your relationship being... a bit unclear—mostly due to his unwillingness to pressure you, you think—you can't help but want him to like you. “Does that mean that I smell good to you as well then? I mean, I remember that you didn’t like my blood?”
“You smell incredible to me. Almost addictive,” he reveals quietly, softly, resting his hands on your thighs, and you think your human heart would’ve raced. “And about your blood… I lied.”
Though grinning happily, there’s at least a trace of regret in his eyes.
“You lied? About not liking my blood?”
“Yeah. B is actually one of the more highly regarded blood types. I’m also B, but negative.”
You shake your head at him before carefully leaning in. With a soft touch of your lips, you locate the pulsating artery in his neck, gently angling his head away with your hands. Then, as you’ve done regularly for the last months, you pierce his skin with your fangs.
“I’m kinda surprised you still believed I didn’t like your blood,” he continues, though it sounds a little strained, like he’s trying to keep still. “If I didn’t like your blood, I wouldn’t have needed to change my feeding days to the day before you came. Nor would I have tried to attack you.”
You listen to his words, but you’ll have to process them better later because his blood is pretty much the only thing on your mind. His blood and his body. It took you a few times to get over the mental association with blood and drinking it, but now, it’s not something bad. It tastes and feels good, energizing you in a way food just doesn’t anymore. And it’s a chance to bond, making you feel closer to him.
He likes it too, if his body language is anything to go by. You know he tries to stay still to give you the best chance to get what you need without distractions, but the little… almost purring sound that reverberates from somewhere deep in his chest is hard to miss. As is the way his hips shift almost unnoticeably, but you haven’t spoken about that.
Being smaller and recently changed, you don’t require nearly as much blood as he does, and as soon as you feel the urge filled, you run your tongue over the wound to close it, just like he’s taught you to.
“Good?” he asks when you pull back, and you nod, licking your lips.
You keep your eyes on his skin, knowing that it only takes a second for the wound to heal but up to two weeks for the scar from another vampire's teeth to fade to nothing.
“All of the vampires we’ve met, they’ve looked so… amused when they understand I drink from you. Why is that? I get that it’s ‘intimate’ but they were pretty much all couples, weren’t they? Not that we’re… you know…”
You haven’t spoken about that, either, really.
It confused you, more so since you last week stumbled across a local couple smiling very cheekily when they saw the scar on Jeongguk’s neck that he’d made absolutely no effort to conceal.
He laughs. “It’s because only I have marks.”
You look puzzled. Yeah, sure, but you don’t understand why that would be amusing.
He looks at your confused face and continues. “The fact that you drink from me but not I from you usually means that I’ve submitted to you. That I belong to you. Which is not very common when I’m so much older than you. It’s usually the other way around if anything.”
“Oh,” you exclaim quietly, lifting your hand to your neck. “Should I…? Do you… want to feed from me? Cause I’m not sure that I…”
You don’t like the idea of losing blood. You know that Jeongguk has said that as a vampire, you quite literally can’t run out, but you don’t like it. Thinking about someone biting your neck has images from the night you died flashing before your eyes. You don’t remember much, but you remember being scared and how much it hurt. Surely, it would be different to let him bite you, but… you don’t know. You can’t help but feel like maybe you should? Don’t you kind of owe it to him?
“I want to, of course I do, but not that badly. I get that it’s an uncomfortable concept for you, so that’s why I haven’t brought it up. If you ever feel comfortable enough, we can try, because it’s very hot, but otherwise, it doesn’t matter.”
You lower your hand, smiling carefully down at him. He runs his hands over your thighs softly.
“So, you’re really just… ancient?”
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah? You’re literally older than Jesus?”
He rolls his eyes, still smiling.
“Jokes aside, doesn’t it get boring? You were kinda grumpy when I first met you.”
“Truth be told, it does. I’ve seen everything, mostly even many times over. But getting to see everything with you is like getting to experience it for the first time all over again.”
“That’s kinda… cheesy,” you chuckle, but you can’t deny that it makes you feel warm inside. “Yuqi said you probably needed a change of scenery as well.”
“So what if it’s cheesy? It’s true," he grins, and it's your turn to roll your eyes. "And, yeah, she might’ve been right. I guess vampires get lonely too sometimes.”
Although he's still smiling, you can't help but hurt a little, thinking about him feeling lonely too.
“So then, what’s next?" you ask. "When do we leave for Portugal?”
“Depends on when you want to. I’ll just tell Taehyung we’ll meet them later. As for now, you know Fontana di Trevi?”
“Yeah?”
“Wanna take a dip?”
“What? Isn’t it pretty shallow? And probably… illegal?”
“What are they gonna do? Stop us?” He smiles a wide, happy smile, his white fangs almost glimmering in the romantically dimmed light.
<previous | next> author's note: i hope you liked it!! please reblog if you did <3<3<3
#jungkook#bts#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#jungkook au#bts fanfic#bts ff#jungkook ff#jungkook imagines#jungkook scenario#jungkook series#bts jungkook#btswritersclub#bts angst#bts fluff#bts x you#bts x reader#bts x y/n#bts x fem!reader#bangtan#bangtan sonyeondan#jeongguk#vampire!jungkook#jungkook vampire#vampire bts#vampire jungkook
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soft wanderer with a partner who's sleepy 24/7 :P (some somnophilia included is always welcome ofc)
wanderer (scaramouche) x fem!reader. soft smut. soft wanderer. consensual somnophilia. clit rubbing. nipple play.
i'm nervous i am losing my touch. i hope everyone is well. i didn't go too overboard with smut since you only specified a little bit of somnophilia🥺
wanderer rarely ever showed an vulnerability. he only ever really seemed to show it around you. if you told anyone that he had a softer side, he knew they would've laughed at you.
how sweet you are. you tried to stay up until he finished a few that were quite frankly time consuming. and that was time he'd much rather spend on you. sighing, he brushed some hair off of your face.
this was nothing new for you. sleep always seemed to encroach on you whenever it liked. he didn't mind. it was what it was. and he had to admit, you look really fucking cute sleeping. defenseless and vulnerable.
the amount of trust you have in him to sleep around him must be immeasurable. he didn't think anyone really had that trust around him. he couldn't exactly blame anyone for that. you never failed to make him utterly weak in the knees. which was a feat he didn't think was possible. until you.
you are that one complete and total anomaly. wanderer could hardly fathom every day how lucky he was.
he carefully leaned down to give you a soft kiss on your lips. however, he stopped halfway because he couldn't help but notice something incredibly obvious. something really enticing. his cheeks flushed, and his breath hitched quietly in his throat.
rewind to earlier in the day. wanderer saw you looking sleepy, and suggested you put a blanket on. he thought it was too chilly in his room for you sleep without one. but, you sleepily refused. you'd fallen asleep on your back, giving him a good view of your nipples poking out underneath your shirt.
when wanderer felt he was entitled to something, he took it. and you'd oh so sweetly given him permission to act on impulse while you slept. you always want to take care of him, even while you slept.
and the way he saw it, he was taking care of you as well. he was going to be damned if one bad dream plagued your sleep. if he could help that, he would. you wouldn't be having any bad dreams on his watch. and what better way that to make you dream about him.
wanderer carefully pulled your shirt and bra down off your breasts. he pressed the soft kiss to your lips, lingering his lips on yours before he worked his way down to your chest. your chest just looked so delectable.
the tip of his tongue swept out to flick across your nipple. he shivered feeling his tongue tingle from the sensation of the soft little nub on his tongue. you let out a soft sigh in your sleep. one that spoke volumes to him.
your body recognized him in your sleep. you sighed softly again, moving your chest slightly towards his mouth. "you are so cute it's disgusting," he whispered, gently groping your soft, squishy breast as he swirled his tongue around your nipple. "what a good girl, responding to me even while you sleep."
scooping your nipple into his mouth to suck on, his other hand trailed down between your legs. he unbuttoned your pants, dipping his fingers down into your panties.
he chuckled softly hearing you start to let out the softest, sleepiest sounding moans as his fingers circled your clit. you shifted in your sleep, your body subconsciously moving your hips a little in an attempt to seek friction from his fingers.
he switched his attention to your other nipple, gently pinching and rubbing your clit in the way he knew you enjoyed. he groaned softly feeling your arousal rapidly soaked his fingers. he knew that if he didn't put himself in check now, he would lose control and end up waking you up while he devoured you.
wanderer spent a few more moments he drew out as long as he could possibly let himself, massaging your clit and tracing his fingers between the drooling folds of your cunt. "i'll wait for you to wake up, but after that, you are all mine."
#genshin impact#genshin smut#fem!reader#genshin imagines#wanderer#wanderer smut#wanderer x y/n#wanderer x you#wanderer x reader#scaramouche#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche x you#tw somnophilia
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Fashion in Rust
Coco: Okay, Glynda... Ruby ask us for us to pass our judgement on how fashionable the, Rusted Knight is.
Glynda: I'm not sure what's more outrageous; The fact that, The Rusted Knight is real, or that we have to do a fashion test on him.
Coco: I don't get it either, but Ruby has adamant on us doing this.
Glynda: I don't know why she was so insistent on us doing that. She must know something we don't.
Coco: Must be... Only question know is what does she know that we don't...?
~~~
Coco: Okay! Where is the, Rusted Knight!
Glynda: We, Beacon's Fashion Trio, minus one member who is missing, are here to render judgement on the, Rusted Knights taste in fashion!
Coco: So, prepare to face our judgment Rusted... Knight...?
GC: ...
Coco: Damn...
Glynda: Oh... I uhhh... I did not expect him to be so... Ravishing~!
Coco: I read the, Ever After as a child... but, gods damn! I knew the, Rusted Knight was considered handsome. But, I didn't expect him to be so hot!
Glynda: Okay, lets do this... We can do this...
Coco: Can we?!
Glynda: Yes we can do...?!
: Oh? Why hello there...
Coco: FUUUUUCK! He sounds hot too?!
Glynda: This is so not fair!
: It's very nice to see you again, Glynda.
Glynda: Y-You know who I am?
: And, you know me.
Glynda: I do?
: And, hello to you as well, Coco. It's nice to see you as well.
Coco: You know who I am too? How...?
: Well... Beacon's Fashion Trio is united again. So tell me, how did I fair?
Coco: Perfect! You look fantastic!
Glynda: And, very attractive! No, wait? What do you mean by, ' again?'
: Oh yes, the helmet... Let me...
: Ahh... That's better...
Glynda: No way...
Coco: Holy fuck... Jaune?!
Jaune: Yeah, it's me, Jaune Arc... I am the, Rusted Knight.
Glynda: Oh...
Coco: Okay... Uhhh... First off it's nice to see you're alive, Jaune!
Glynda: Absoutly wonderful to know you're still with us!
Coco: But, uhh... T-The fashion trio needs to take a sidebar!
Jaune: Alright then.
~~~
Coco: Okay.. Jaune's freaking hot!
Glynda: There is no doubt about that!
Coco: I admit, I always that, Jaune was attractive, I even fantasized about us doing it a few times.
Glynda: I admit, so did as well. Why, I often imagined, Jaune taking me on my desk, or playing out naughty teacher student fantasies with him.
Coco: That's hot... But, gods damn! He went from seven to a twelve in an instant!
Glynda: That rugged beard, and the fox tail fit him so well!
Coco: And, he became such a hot silver fox on top of that! I want to fuck him so bad!
Glynda: So do I!
Coco: ...
Glynda: ...
Coco: We're going to fuck him aren't we?
Glynda: Absolutely.
Coco: Fuck yes!
~~~
Coco: Jaune we've made our judgement!
Jaune: Oh, and how did I do?
Glynda: You're so hot that we've decided to fuck you.
Jaune: ...
Jaune: B-Beg pardon...?
Coco: we're going to have sex. Now.
Jaune: N-Now...?
Glynda: Now~!
Jaune: ...
Jaune Alright then~!
///
Why you may ask?
Because it was requested.
#rwby#jaune arc#ruby rose#coco adel#glynda goodwitch#jaune x coco#coco x jaune#glynda x jaune#jaune x glynda#rwby arcwitch#rwby french roast#rwby colourguard
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ciaoo!! how about max's girlfriend being the biggest lestappen shipper and makes fun of him and he just plays along with her with all that norris inchindents recently they just purely gossip on their day off. probably like a domestic fluff. cooking and whatnot.
thank you. love your work btw, incredible stuff!!
Rumor Has It~Max Verstappen
・��・prompt list ・❥・masterlist ・❥・who I write for
y/n leaned over the counter, watching as Max stirs the pasta sauce on the stove, the delicious aroma filling the kitchen. He’s trying to keep his focus on the bubbling sauce, but her relentless teasing has him breaking into a grin every few seconds.
“So… when’s the wedding?” she asked with an exaggeratedly serious tone.
Max side-eyed her, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Who’s getting married?”
“Oh, don’t play clueless” she said, folding her arms as she leaned a bit closer. “You and Charles. Obviously. The F1 power couple the world has been waiting for. Come on, Maxie, we all see the way you two look at each other.”
Max snorts, shaking his head. “You’re insane, you know that?”
y/n gasped with mock outrage. “How dare you dismiss my beautiful ship! I’m practically the captain at this point.”
Max laughs, finally giving up on stirring the sauce to turn and face her, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Yeah? Well, if I’m marrying Charles, does that mean you’re left alone to dream about me from afar?”
She rolled her eyes, reaching out to poke his chest. “Don’t flatter yourself, Verstappen.”
Max caught her hand, tugging her a bit closer until there’s barely any space between them. “Then stop with the Charles jokes. He’d hate you for it, anyway.”
“Oh, he would not,” she insisted, brushing off his comment. “Charles has a sense of humor. You two are just too shy to admit your feelings. Besides, I’m sure he’s off gossiping about us right now. Maybe with Lando. You know how much Lando loves a good rumor.”
Max raises an eyebrow, stifling a chuckle. “You think Charles and Lando gossip about us?”
“Oh, please,” she said, waving her hand. “I bet they’re talking about all the hot drama from the paddock. Anyways, apparently Lando’s ego has gone from medium to extra-large lately?”
Max sighs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t even get me started on Lando’s ego. Sometimes I think he just loves hearing himself talk. I mean, did you hear him the other day? Talking about how he was ‘definitely the best driver’ and that I got lucky in Brazil for going from 17th place to first?”
y/n let out a giggle, covering her mouth. “I know! I’m like, buddy, calm down. He’s sweet, but there’s a lot of ‘me, me, me’ going on lately.”
Max shakes his head, exasperation all over his face. “I swear, he’s like a puppy. One compliment, and he’s bouncing off the walls. And don’t even get me started on him dating Magui, the influencer who used to be with Joao Felix. The same Magui who cheated on him, like, a million times. Lando swears it’s not serious but come on.”
“Oh, he lives for it,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He’s totally wrapped up in her whole ‘cool, edgy, unattainable’ vibe, but she’s just trying to be relevant. You know she’s doing everything she can to become a WAG.”
Max snickers, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I thought we were bad at keeping things private.”
“Please, we’re saints in comparison,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in closer. “And speaking of secrets…” she leaned in, voice lowering, “do you know how Alexandra and Charles met?”
Max raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “No, how did he meet her?”
“She was friends with his ex and her sister” y/n said with a sly grin. “Can you believe it?”
Max chuckles, shaking his head. “Guess Charles has a type—and a way of meeting them through friends. Wasn't Charlotte also friends with the girlfriend before her?”
y/n laughed, nodding. “Right? And I swear, Alexandra and Charlotte look exactly the same. It’s like he’s got a specific blueprint for girlfriends or something.”
Max’s arms slid around her waist as he pulled her even closer. “Seems like Charles might have some explaining to do.”
y/n leaned her head against his shoulder, feeling his warmth against her. “it's fun knowing everyone’s secrets. Like how Pierre’s girlfriend, Kika, has that whole beef with Magui. She can’t stand her.”
Max raises an eyebrow, a grin forming. “Why am I not surprised? Didn’t Magui basically try to become a WAG overnight?”
“Exactly. Kika can’t stand it. Magui’s been copying her style, her posts, everything since the two stopped being friends. I swear, she’s just trying to outdo Kika at being the ultimate F1 girlfriend.”
Max shakes his head with a chuckle. “Kika’s a sweetheart; she deserves better than that drama.”
She laughed, tightening her arms around his neck as he hugged her close. “You know, we could give Lando a run for his money in the rumor department.”
Max laughed, kissing her once more. “You know what? I’m okay with that.” He leans down, murmuring in her ear, “As long as I’ve got you.”
She can’t help the smile that spreads across her face as she pulled him in for a proper kiss. This was their little slice of paradise—gossiping, cooking, and just being together with Max, in this lovely, imperfect chaos that’s all her own.
#max verstappen#max#verstappen#formula one#formula 1#formula one oneshots#formula one oneshot#formula one imagines#formula one imagine#red bull f1#f1#f1 x you#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#red bull team#red bull racing#max verstappen x f!reader#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x y/n
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whole again
summary: sevika didn’t feel whole without her arm and it bubbles up when jinx gifts her a new one.
a/n: i need the rest of season 2 rn RAHHHH
tags: insecurity of lost limb, angst/comfort, fluff, married!wife!reader, kissing
ao3 version
thank you for the request anon!!!
sevika wasn't expecting to fight with smeech today, but she also wasn't expecting to see jinx in silco's office either. one thing she could always expect was her wife waiting for her at home, the only thing driving her to keep walking instead of collapsing from exhaustion in the middle of the street.
after sevika slumped through your shared house's front door, you were quick to guide her to a chair in your kitchen to take care of her as you usually did when she came home from any sort of fight she was injured in while she was on duty. thankfully, she didn't have any injuries this time, but she did have bright green disgusting goo all over her body. god it was going to take forever to scrub out of her clothes.
wiping sevika’s face off with a warm rag to get the disgusting green goo off of her beautiful face, she looked so peaceful having her beautiful wife take care of her. following her fight with smeech, she came straight home after dropping jinx and isha off at a safe house, eager to get home to you. you didn’t care to ask if the goo was residue from her new arm or smeech, either way, you knew that you wouldn’t like the answer.
she recounted all the details of the fight, a soft fondness in her voice when talking about the two younger girls that she would deny if you pointed it out. she smiled up at you as she continued talking, the adorable gap between her teeth showing as she finished her story.
now that she had her girl with her and a new arm, what more could a woman need?
after her face was completely clean of the sticky green substance, you smothered her face in kisses with a loud ‘mwah’ after each one. her face scrunched up initially in slight annoyance, but she couldn’t help the chuckle bubbling from her chest after the first few. glancing her body over, you nodded to yourself as you saw no external injuries or damage to her clothing. while you were distracted, she wrapped her flesh arm around your waist and pulled you onto her lap with your legs hanging off of her thighs, a surprised squeal leaving your lips.
curiously, you inspected her new arm with a grin, it definitely had jinx’s handiwork all over it.
“like my new arm baby?” she inquired with a half smirk as she bent it in half for you to admire, the dinosaur-like head of the arm proudly sticking in the air.
“well it’s was very obviously made by jinx i’ll give her that much, but i like the speakers,” you said truthfully as you ran your fingers down her arm, careful not to set anything off my accident. the head of the arm reminded you of jinx’s bombs and you had to resist the urge to pull the level on her shoulder. it was truly an impressive weapon to say the least, although it definitely didn't match the usual muted tones that your wife wore.
she groaned and rolled her eyes, dragging her flesh hand down her face in clear annoyance, “did i mention that fireworks went off when the bastard died?”
you gawked and sputtered out a laugh, “no you didn’t! that’s so cool!”
she hummed a sarcastic 'uh huh' and kissed the side of your head, “i’ll probably have her tone it down at some point, but at least i’m all me again.”
you furrowed your brows and looked at her with slight concern, “whatddya mean?”
she shrugged and slumped back in her chair, her stare suddenly a million miles away. “i mean i wasn’t really complete without my arm, it’s the strongest part of me, and without it after silco dying… i didn’t really feel like me,” she admitted with her voice getting smaller and smaller, a lump forming in her throat. she licked her lips to try and satiate the sudden dryness in her mouth with little success, a nervous forming pit in her stomach at her sudden confession. she knew that you wouldn't judge her for admitting her feelings, but it still felt strange to admit them out loud to someone who actually gave a shit to what she was feeling.
you cupped her cheeks and brought her focus back to you, her eyes finding yours overflowing with an openness in emotion that was usually guarded behind steel walls. keeping one hand on her cheek, you petted her hair with the other. she leaned her head into your hand and closed her eyes, slightly trembling in your hold.
you took a deep breath and continued petting her hair as you spoke to her reassuringly, “sevika, you are so much more than your arm, hell, you’re so much more than silco’s number two. sure, he was the main hedge but who was out there making his deals? cleaning his messes? plus, you were kicking ass even before you had that mechanical arm. you could take on all of the undercity with just one arm and come out with barely a scrape on the other side. you are the woman i fell in love with, the beautiful, handsome, headstrong, competitive knucklehead that i would choose to be with even if you had no limbs.”
sevika snorted and you noticed that her eyes were slightly glazed over with tears that she held back. she sighed softly and quietly lamented in a strained voice, “what did i do to deserve you?”
you smiled fondly at her and kissed the tip of her nose, “i could ask you the exact same thing.”
she leaned forward into you and kissed your lips which such care that it would make anyone forget that she was a seasoned killer. desperately pushing into you, she had you leaning back with an iron grip around your waist with her flesh arm. you quickly threw your arms around her neck and pulled her as tight to your body as you could. a squeak followed immediately by giggles fell from your lips as you almost fell over backward, sevika catching you in time to straighten you both back up. she genuinely smiled and leaned her forehead against yours, “i love you.”
“i love you too sevika," you replied lovingly, nuzzling the tip of your nose with hers. she surprisingly returned the gesture with a light blush dusting her cheeks.
you pulled back and grinned at her, a hint of mischief in your eye. "well, at least ask jinx to add on a hand function," you said teasingly, but with a genuine undertone.
sevika chuckled and shook her head, grinning down at you with a cocked eyebrow, “what, did you miss my hands that much?”
you puffed out your cheeks and huffed, “i just miss standing on the left side of you sometimes.”
that made her genuinely laugh from the bottom of her stomach, teasingly tickling your sides with her hand which made you wriggle in her lap with laughter. you’d clean up as much goo off of her as she needed just to hear that laugh every day.
she brought your hand up to her lips and kissed the wedding band stacked ontop of your engagement ring on your finger. she softly kissed the inside of your palm and closed your fingers around it, a silent promise.
“i’ll ask just for you,” she cooed and pecked your lips, giving your hip an affectionate squeeze.
“good,” you smiled and grabbed her hand in yours. you giggled as you led her up to your shared room with her hot on your heels, following you up the stairs like an eager puppy.
maybe you can find some other fun uses for her new arm.
#sevika x reader#reader x sevika#arcane#arcane sevika#arcane league of legends#arcane season 2#sevika#sevika arcane#sevika fluff#strawberrykidneystone writes#strawberrykidneystone#ao3#sevika x female reader#sevika x fem!reader
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When you're mad at them and they are very needy for you ! part 1
warnings: mommy kink, filming, public, edging, overstimulation, jealousy(reader), oral fixation(m receiving).
Gojo Satoru - Porn video
You were so mad at him for letting his fan-girls rub up on him and flirt with him. You hated how jealous you seemed right now, but it isn't your fault, but it also isn't Satoru's fault for being so popular. You wonder if he even tried to stop them.
He was laying on your thighs with his arms wrapped around your waist, begging for you to forgive him and that it was an honest mistake, he didn't think anyone would see him.
And that's where it all began. You told him to cover up with one of his black hoodies and all, but he denied you, and went out with you. Of course people would see him and recognize him on the spot.
He's everyone's dream man, he has the prettiest blue eyes, the silkiest white hair. Who wouldn't notice him?!
“And what did i tell you to do? Cover up! And you were like ‘oh they won’t notice me’” you mocked him, rolling your eyes.
He knew you were clearly mad at him, he needed to find a way to make you happy again, so of course he was about to give in to one of your stupid fantasies.
And that's how Satoru ended up under you, whimpering and whining as you bounced on top of him, his hands gripping your hips with a harsh grip to it. Being recorded in the process.
Satoru was whining and whimpering under you, trying to hide such moans from you knowing you would tease him about it and he'd never hear the end of it.
You hum as you prop the camera up behind you and hummed lightly as you shifted positions so you were now in 69. Satoru didn't mind this position, but he hated the fact that he couldn't see your pretty face when he ate you out.
But it's not like he can't hear your moans, though he doesn't care because your moans aren't your face. Though, he isn't complaining because he gets to have his face shoved in your pretty, wet cunt.
The camera was set on you as you jerked off Satoru, not giving him the satisfaction of your mouth just yet, you're positive he won't mind such acts and playful motions.
He did mind actually, trying to push his hips up more into your hands, wanting you to use your mouth to get him off. You saw this motion and grinned, bringing two fingers down to squeeze his balls, letting your thumb rub over his tip.
Now he was a literal moaning mess, his hands squeezing your hips more than they already were. You were really teasin' him. And let's just say he enjoyed it but never would admit it.
You heard him mumble some words but couldn't make out what they were, so you just squeezed his balls harder, and rubbing his tip, hoping to milk his cock, then he'd know how you felt during the time those idiots were flirting with him.
Maybe you'll do something else as revenge. Maybe invite his best friend - actually, that might be a good idea. You grinned as you grabbed your phone, humming as you dialed Suguru's number.
Satoru tried to sit up since he wanted to see what your cheeky ass was up to. “Angel, whatcha doing?” He questioned, gripping your hips.
“Nothingggg!” You said as you hung up the phone and turned to him. “We’re going to have a special guest, you’d like that no ?”
If only he knew what you were up to, guess he’ll have to find out soon.
Suguru Geto - Public sex
You were under Suguru’s table as he was in the process of having a meeting with a few people that were important.
And while that was happening, people were unaware of what was going on under the table.
You were giving Suguru the best head he’s ever received just because he brought you the most expensive shit you wanted and what better way than to gift him with head?
You were surprised that he was capable of keeping his sounds to himself and a straight face. Suguru was quite vocal when it came to you and your oral fixation kink.
Suguru had a hand on top of your head, guiding your movements quietly as he continued on with the meeting, sometimes stopping and taking a couple deep breaths.
“As I was saying.. I would like to address the curses that I have— fuck..” he stops as he pushes you on his cock further and just puts his other over his face. “I have taking control of all the curses that were left, no need to track anyone down anymore until later this month.”
God you were so fucking hot for sucking him off under the table, just what he needed as a stress reliever. And who better to call than his lovely fiancé ?
“sir are you alright?” A female voice whom was sitting right next to him asked visibly concerned for your fiancé. This girl hated you so much, she didn’t know how you managed to get with Suguru.
He just nods, he wasn’t able to speak he was just able to nod, the way you were sucking him off felt so good he didn’t have a single thing for his mind.
The girl places a hand on his shoulder and looks him in the eyes. “Are you sur—.” Suguru slaps her hand off his shoulder and dismisses the meeting. “Meeting’s over. Leave.” He demanded, using his hand to shoo them away.
They all look at him confused but obeyed and left. He pushes out his chair and looks at you, grunting as he pushed your head down further, making his cock hit the back of your throat.
You're so glad you have a gag reflex, he throws his head back as he cums down your throat, he grabbed the trashcan as you pulled yourself off his cock. “no need to swallow it my dear.” One thing about Suguru is that he'll never force you to swallow his cum.
You smile as you spit out his cum in the trashcan and grab a condom from your bag and waved it in the air before Suguru snatches it from you, he was NOT playing around, he wanted your cunt around him, raw or not.
He tears open the condom and slips it onto his dick, pulling you towards him. He pushes up your skirt and looks up at you. You knew that look it was the 'fuck you tryna get into with no underwear on?' look.
You smile as you sit down on his cock like it was a seat, you've been teasing him all day and now you're doing this? Who the hell did you think you were being able to get a cult leader so submissive like this.
What caused all of your brattiness? That stupid bitch, she was rubbing up on him and he was just letting her, and so you're fucking mad at him for doing that.
You allowed him to fuck you, but he can't do it raw, and it made him so fucking pissed that he couldn't fuck your cunt nice and raw like he normally does.
In not even a full minute the man has you bent over the table, already in your cunt ready to fuck you stupid, but you don’t let him do so.
poor suguru, was so pent up, won't you help him?
Choso Kamo - Cockring
You told Choso if he didn't stop hanging out with Yuki instead of you, something would happen, but he clearly thought you were bluffing. And you clearly were not, that's how he ended up under you with you jerking him off.
Though of course you've been edging him for about an hour since you had recently brought a little something that you wanted to try with him.
It was a cockring, that you put onto his cock since he's been ignoring you to hangout with Yuki. What did she have that you didn't? Nothing.
According to him he just wanted to learn things about human females, if that was the case, why not learn from you? He says he knows everything about you, clearly not if he didn't know you were capable of doing this.
Jerking him off and edging him for almost hours, too bad he can't cum anyways since you put the cockring on him, of course the first time you use it is to punish him.
“p-please.. 'm sorry, just pleaseee let me cum!” He begged, practically whining, his hand on your thigh as he shifted and pushed his hips up, trying to get more friction so he could cum.
“Baby, it's not like you can cum anyways.” you mutter in his ear as you stop jerking him off. He whined at the loss of your touch, shifting as he hovered over you. He was very desperate for you to make him cum.
Goodness, guess he was desperate. He won't be ignoring you for Yuki anymore after this if this is what's going to happen. You were surprised you managed to keep your temper in control.
Why were you even pissed off and doing this to him anyways?? Because he declined your calls on purpose then when you called him back, Yuki answered and started fake moaning into the phone to piss you off.(i love her though, she's hot).
And then Choso went along with it, because Yuki told him it would be fine to do it since it would 'make you laugh'. It in fact did not make you laugh, it just made you more pissed off about the fact that your boyfriend was with another chick and she was telling him to do things that wasn't exactly true.
Then he had the audacity to yell at you because you tried to confront him, then this is how he ended up under you. Being edged to almost his fucking death.
“pleaseeee mommy, pleaseee, let me cum” he whined, whenever he wanted something he would beg and all you mommy in the process.
you'll end up forgiving him right and allow him to cum on your tits or inside of you right? right????
part 2 / part 3
visuals
overstimulating choso <3
jerking suguru off under the table!
filming while you and satoru go at it !!
#jjk#jjk smut#twitter links#p links#geto suguru#choso kamo#gojo satoru#gojo smut#choso smut#choso x reader#gojo x reader#suguru geto smut#getou suguru x reader
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Sharing a bed with Changbin
Chan; Lee Know ; Changbin; Hyunjin; Han; Felix; Seungmin; IN;
My Masterlist
Summary: What happens when Changbin comes to pick you up after a night out with your friends.
Warning: Chaos just pure Chaos. Cursing as always; Reader is a female; Both reader and Changbin are dummies. Literally idiots in love; Mentions of drinking, reader is a bit tipsy at the start. mentions of kissing. NOT PROOFREAD. Please tell me if I miss anything.
A/N- Heya babies I'm back! I really hope you'll like this, I really had fun writing this so I hope you will enjoy it. If you have any request of just thoughts to share please feel free to do so. Also if you want to be added to the taglist either comment or massage or even send an ask.
Word count- 3.5k
Sometimes drinking alcohol and getting drunk with your best friends was all that you needed to unwind after a hard week of working your ass off. However, as much as you loved feeling this light, carefree, relaxed and let’s just simply say euphoric, alcohol intake also had its cons. For example, this lightness and relaxation came with the price of being unable to stand straight on your legs and your crush looking way more yummy than usual.
You weren’t really planning to go out. After a day you had at work all you felt like was to go home, take a warm bath and snuggle in bed with some good movie playing on the background. Your best friend came up with the idea to go clubbing and getting some overpriced but tasty drinks. You were reluctant at first but after thinking things over you decided to go. And it was great! You had time of your life and it was just what you needed to fully relax and wash off the stress of your daily life. The only problem now was that you had a bit too much to drink and could barely stand on your legs and you felt really dizzy. Also watching Changbin help your friend (who was also wasted if not more than you) get to her door, and mind you he got every one of your friends to their houses because it was really late and he didn’t want them to go with cabs in the middle of the night while in this vulnerable state. You had to call mama Seo and thank her for raising such a gentleman!
Okay maybe you were a bit biased, It wasn’t a secret your feelings for Changbin had been more than platonic. You two had known each other for quite a while. You didn’t know when it started but you two had been flirting around with each other since forever but neither one of you made that final move to make things official. So here you were stuck in the middle ground, where you couldn’t really be called just friends but you weren’t dating each other either.
Of course you would be more than happy to get out of that situation. At least you would try and move on from him if he didn’t want to date and make things official. You just weren’t sure how you should make the first move, you always kind of expected he would be the first one to ask you out.
You were startled out of your thoughts when you heard Changbin return in the car, you couldn’t help but smile as you took in his disheveled hair and rosy cheeks from the cold.
“Are you sleepy baby?” – He asked as he noticed your dazed eyes.
“Yea, but I can’t sleep. I shouldn’t.” You sighed out as you watched him start the car.
“Why is that bubz?” He looked at you for a second before shifting his gaze to the road.
“If I close my eyes I can not look at your pretty face!” You made sure to whine as dramatically as possible. Changbin let out one of his notorious cackles.
“God that was so cheesy!”-He wheezed out after a few seconds of laughing like he had been possessed with a spirit of an ancient witch.
You grabbed your own cheeks making sure to smush them together just enough, blinked at him all cutely and continued to tease him like the sweetheart you were. “Shut up you love me.”
“I do.” Wow how the tables turn he just admitted it like it was the most common fact ever. Grass is green, sky is blue and apparently Seo Changbin is in love with you.
“Wait really?” You really couldn’t believe your own ears.
“Yeah of course.” Again, he was so incredibly casual about it! Oh no you couldn’t let it slide.
“Why aren’t you asking me out to date then?” There it was, there was no return now.
Changbin not only snapped his head so fast that there might have been a possibility that he could’ve broken his neck, but he also stopped his car so aburtly you had to thank god there was no one behind you.
“What do you mean ask you out?” Wow was it so horrible to even imagine it? You thought you two had a thing. Were you wrong?
“Oh my god have I been misreading the situation the whole time? This is so embarrassing. I am so sorry…”
It was his turn to panic now, which made you feel a bit relieved, because you felt like you were losing your shit! “No no it’s not that I promise!”
“When what is?” You couldn’t hide your desperation now. Maybe you could blame it on alcohol later and hope to move on?
“I thought we were dating?”
…
A blink.
Another blink.
“Changbin what the fuck? How the fuck did you believe we were dating?” You were full on yelling now because what the fuck did he mean he thought you two were dating! Since fucking when?
“I don’t know! I just did! We already act like a couple so what’s the big deal? Wait you don’t like me?” Forget all the sappy shit, you felt like strangling him.
“I do but…” God how did you manage to get yourself in this fucking situation? “God this is giving me such a headache.”
Changbin looked just as lost and even guilty. “I’m sorry. But I genuinely thought we were dating.”
“Since when?” You had to get in the bottom of this, or else your head was going to explode.
“I don’t know, like Han’s birthday party? You remember when you kissed me?” He tried to reason but the new knowledge almost made you choke on your own spit. God was really laughing at you.
“I fucking did WHAT?”
“YOU DON’T REMEMBER?” Changbin full on screamed in shock. Really what did you do to deserve this?
“NO!” You screamed back, and with it went last drops of alcohol remaining in your body and your sanity. Ain’t no way you could return to being normal after this.
“I mean I knew that you drank a little that day but damn! You don’t remember kissing me?” Changbin had his face in his hands, the car still ignited just casually standing in the middle of the road. Thank god there was no one around.
“Fuck me I gotta stop drinking. No I don’t remember kissing you.” Honestly nothing seemed more tempting right now than crying your eyes out at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.
“Unbelievable.” Your heart clenched at Changbin’s sulky and sad voice. You were furious at yourself for not remembering kissing this cinnamon roll.
“I’m sorry. What happened? Tell me a full story.” You pleaded as if hearing the full story would magically return your memories and make the situation any better.
“I don’t know, I walked you home, we were about to say goodbye and you kissed me. I thought that you were drunk but you confessed that you liked me and it seemed so sincere, and we’ve been flirting for ages! How was I supposed to know you wouldn’t remember anything?”
“This is so unfair! You are telling me I have been literally dreaming about how would kissing you be like and in reality I have already done it?” Talk about unfair!
A biggest smile broke on his face and his whole mood shifter 180. “Aww baby you’ve been dreaming about kissing me?”
You really felt like pulling your own hair out now. How was he so calm all of a sudden? “Binnie, baby, respectfully shut the fuck up.”
“But you like me!” He looked so giddy now, what a precious dummy. You really felt like shutting him up with a fat smooch on his lips. You had to pull yourself together.
“Bin you had been convinced we had been dating I don’t know for how many months now. I had you THAT convinced. Of course I fucking like you.”
“Aww you said it again that you like me!”
“I swear to god Seo!” Changbin gasped like he had been slapped making you also flinch in shock.
“Not the last name! I liked it better when you called me Binnie and baby and love and all the sweet stuff.” Was he serious right now? A smile broke out on your face against your will, he was so cute.
You sighed in defeat. “Okay I won’t call you by your last name.”
“Also not the first name. I’m Binnie to you!” To make his point he even crossed his arms, his lips all pouty and cheeks all fluffy.
“Okay Binnie.” You held in your pinky as a promise, he immediately linked it with his feeling satisfied.
You two sat in silence for a few seconds, thankfully he started to drive again. “So like what do we do now?” He broke the silence looking at you with confused eyes.
“I don’t know Bin, let me think for a sec?”
“But” - He tried to protest but you didn’t let him.
“Please baby?” You gave him the best puppy eyes ever, knowing damn well he wouldn’t be able to resist. You just needed a second.
“That’s not fair, You know I can’t say no when you ask me like that!”
The ride to the home was quiet, with the only problem arising when you were in front of your house.
“Bin I Think we have a problem.” You sighed feeling way too drained to care about this new problem.
“Wait what? Why?” You cured yourself for making him feel anxious, you quickly leaned in and grabbed his hands.
“Calm down baby.” You tried to reassure.
“What is it?”
“I just can’t find my keys.” You admitted bashfully.
“Are you kidding? Did you lose them somewhere?”
“No. I gave it to my friend when we left the house, she just found it in her purse she just texted me.”
“Oh thank god I thought we had to change the locks. Do you want me to go back to her apartment?” Really who was this cute and adorable? This was so unfair for your heart.
“What? No, it would be such an inconvenience. I mean we can go at your house?” You already felt like a hassle you didn’t want to tire him more, It was really late too.
“My house?” Changbin sounded genuinely so surprised you thought you said something wrong for a second. Changbin returned to normal in a second. “I mean it’s not a problem but like our sofa broke, turns out you can’t just like wrestle for the better controller or something like that. Okay what am I even saying you can take my room, me and Hyunjin had shared a bed so many times anyways.”
“It’s fine tho.” Your voice was quiet almost like a whisper.
“What is?” You looked at his face, he looked genuinely confused. You rolled your eyes, he really couldn’t take a hint sometimes.
“I meant that we can share a bed.” You tried your best to sound as cool and as casual as possible even though your heart felt like bursting.
“We can do what now?” he really looked like he couldn’t believe his own ears.
“I mean apparently we had been dating for months now.”
“Hey don’t tease!”
“I gotta do something! My head feels like exploding! We managed to get ourselves in quite a situation right here!” You took a deep breath to calm yourself. “Anyway what I’m saying is that I’m completely fine sharing a bed with you. We’ve established that we like each other so I don’t see the problem here.”
“That’s what I thought the first time too! What if you forget again! What if you wake up in the morning not remembering anything and you’re just there in my bed with me in it! You’ll think I’m some sort of pervert and that I took advantage of you when you were drunk!” There he was being all dramatic and huffy all again.
“I’m not drunk!” Who would be drunk after this?
“You were a few minutes ago!” He had a a point but now you felt more sober than you were before you started drinking.
“Well not anymore! How can I be drunk after all that? And I was just tipsy! I was just fine! You were the one worried and insisting that you come and take me home! For which I love you and appreciate you but still!”
Changbin crossed his arms. “I’m still not sure.”
“What you want me to do a video proof that I fully consent to this?”
Changbin glared at you but then smirked suddenly looking smug. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea!”
“God you’re so petty sometimes.” Two could play the petty game, you took out your phone and pressed the record button. “Hello future me! It is exactly half past thee in the morning and I’m sitting in the car with Changbin who is driving me to his home. This is a reminder to you in case that I forget in the morning that I fully concent to sharing a same bed with Seo Changbin. And to avoid any further miscommunication I will say in this video that I like him like a lot and appartenly he does return the feelings. However if when we get there he doesn’t kiss me I will end this either month long or minute long relationship right then and there!”
It was his time to roll his eyes now, but he clearly looked amused by all this. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m warning you Seo!” Ain’t no way you wouldn’t get your kiss now that you two were aware of each other’s emotions. No way in hell would count the one you didn’t even remember as your first kiss with him.
“Whatever my love shall request my love shall get!”
***
The ride to his house was quick which was great you were dying to take off your shoes. Whoever invented high heels deserved to burn in hell. Thank god Binnie came to pick you up.
Speaking of which, being the perfect gentleman he is, he immediately got out of the car, ran to your side all cutely and opened your door for you, holding in his hand for you to take. You obviously took it, appreciating the kind gesture and also support because your legs really were hurting like a bitch.
Changbin helped you get out of the car, he even closed the door for you. You were about to thank him but something stopped you Something in his eyes.
You weren’t even able to question anything, before you even knew it, he wrapped his arm around your waist brought you close to his body and in mere second his lips were on yours.
The kiss was firm but also full of love, he kissed you as he was afraid to let you go. His lips were so soft and warm and his body… It was so firm and strong and warm. No wonder you felt so safe and loved whenever you were with him, You couldn’t help but cling to him as you tried to return the kiss with the same vigor. Both of your arms tightly wrapping around his broad shoulders.
Your whole body felt like it was melting, you were sure you wouldn’t even be able to stand straight if it wasn’t him holding you so firmly. How was he even so good at kissing? His kisses felt like a drug and you were getting addicted by the second.
After a while he leaned back and you couldn’t help but actually whine, god what was he doing to you? Seeing you chase his lips made the biggest smile break out on his face. God He looked so beautiful with his flushed cheeks and messy hair, his lips all pretty and pink. Changbin leaned in and gave you few short pecks.
After he felt satisfied with the amount of kisses he gave you he decided to just randomly sweep you off your feet, quite literaly. One second you were somewhat steady on the ground the next you were in the air desperately clinging onto Changbin confused out of your mind.
“What are you doing?” – You managed to huff out giggling at his cute antics.
“You’re feet are hurting.” He said it like a matter of fact.
“I mean yes, but are you going to carry me until we get to your house?”
“Why not?” Again so casual, like holding you and walking up to his house which wasn’t that near wasn’t a big deal.
“Binnie I’m heavy!” You tried to protest, even squirmed a little but to no avail.
“Not really, no.”
“Binnie it isn’t worth it, I’m really heavy.”
“What’s the point of working out if I can’t even carry my girl!” Wow your heart must have done a literal backflip because what the fuck was that movement in your chest?
“I’m your girl?” You didn’t even try to hide the lovesick expression that overtook your face.
Changbin glanced at you for a second, then leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose- “Of course you’re my girl.” So not mindful of your poor heart amusement clear on his face clearly enjoying your flustered state. He continued walking as it was nothing, like holding you was same as holding couple of grapes. He only stopped when you two were in front of his house.
“Can you ring the bell?” He asked with the cutest smile ever, how in your right mind could you say no? You rang the bell then it hit you, the situation you were in. You quickly covered your face as if Changbin wasn’t holding you like you were main dish on a platter. The cackle Changbin let out seeing your antics almost woke up the whole building.
Hyunjin opened up the door after a few seconds, clearly he just rolled out of bed. You felt bad for possibly waking him up. He looked at you two with unamused eyes, Changbin still proudly holding you refusing to let you down, and you looking through your fingers clearly shy.
“Huh so my wife is cheating on me with my friend.”
“Uh pretty much? You’re still number one in my heart you know that.” Changbin answered proudly.
“Hey hyun!” You greeted him shyly after you made sure to smack Changbin’s shoulder.
"Hey! Took you two long enough to get together tho.” Hyunjin deadpanned as he let you two in, Changbin finally letting you down on the armchair.
“Oh let me tell you a juicy story then!” You smiled mischievously completely ignoring Changbin’s protests.
After telling Hyunjin everything and him making fun of you two, mostly Changbin, you decided to get ready for bed. Honestly they would be lucky if the neighbors didn’t call the cops on them, they were so damn loud!
Anyway here you were now, laying on one side of the bed all snug in Changbin’s clothes as Changbin laid stiffly on the other. Honestly, he looked like he would fall of the bed any second now.
“Bin you’re about to fall off the bed!”
“I’m fine.” God even his voice was stiff.
“Bin you literally took my breath away the way you were kissing me earlier what happened now?”
“I don’t think I should get any more close.” He grumbled out after a few seconds of silence.
“Why is that?”
Changbin scoffed like he was baffled how you weren’t understanding what was wrong. “You’ll think badly of me!” Again grumbling inaudibly.
“I promise I won’t.” You tried to reassure him, even held in your pinky finger which he begrudgingly took.
“It’s just you’re here in my bed, in my clothes, looking absolutely beautiful and we were kissing and you look so kissable right now… How am I supposed to control myself?” This boy was going to be the death of you. Who the hell was this cute and adorable and so kissable on a random Tuesday night!
“Then don’t.”
“Baby I swear to god!” Changbin covered his face and almost fell out of the bed, thankfully you managed to drag him to the center of bed just in time. Also this gave you a perfect opportunity. You wrapped your hands around him and hugged him tight, Changbin immediately uncovered his face to wrap his arms around you and hug you back.
“I like you a lot bin.” You mused and leaned in to softly peck his lips, Changbin almost immediately melted into your arms.
“I like you a lot too.” He muttered before bringing you closer to seal your lips in a longer more passionate kiss.
“We’re really really dating now so don’t you start getting shy on me okay?” You couldn’t help but tease.
Changbin groaned at the teasing clearly not amused. “Brat!”
You couldn’t help but giggle as you got more comfortable getting ready to get one of the best sleeps of your life.
Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ❤️
Taglist (comment if you want to be added^^): @velvetmoonlght
#stray kids#stray kids x reader#skz#skz x reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#skz fluff#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#changbin#changbin fluff#changbin scenarios#changbin x reader#seo changbin#seo changbin x reader#skz changbin#stray kids changbin#changbin x you#stray kids x female reader#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n#stray kids drabbles#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids imagine
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Shiro’s confidence that he’ll make that book happen brings a small smile to his lips. One he looks away to hide. He didn’t really expect to ever be making long term plans with Shiro again, but he nods with a slight motion. “Yeah. Okay. I will.” He snorts. “I can’t argue with that.” Shiro knows that's not what Ichigo was getting at, but fine. He can play that game. He shrugs. “Well, if it’s a fictional true story, I couldn’t say it’s about you. But enough people know you that they’d probably figure it out. You haven’t really kept a low profile. So if there’s any embarrassing stories you want me to omit, tell me now.” He takes a breath and looks away and adopts the most obnoxious, matter of fact tone he can find. “I’ll try to downplay how obsessed with me you are. And some of the cuddling and hand holding. I’d hate for you to lose face with the criminal population.” Until he says it, it hasn’t really dawned on him how much he’s missed the cuddling and he thinks they only really ever held hands once or twice, but he feels a harsh twinge in his chest just thinking about it.
He almost chokes on his sudden snort. “You’d say yes to a lot of people. You’re right about being the hottest guy I know though.” He sighs. “Grimmjow’s complicated. I don’t know what’s going on there. You know what it’s like after prison, sometimes you can’t find normal work anymore.” It’s not exactly what Shiro asked, but it’s how Ichigo answered.
He doesn’t answer. He’s known that for a long time. It’s also an oversimplification of a much larger issue. Shiro makes it sound like Ichigo could just brush off the price his family is paying and then they’d be together again.
Ichigo shoots Shiro a scowl. “I thought you wanted to be friends.” It’s the only excuse he has for his clingy, intrusive behavior. And maybe he’s the one that needs to make sure Shiro is safe. For himself. Because he worries more than he admits. He looks away and pushes out a breath.
“You move your own product?” That’s a lot more involved than Ichigo was expecting. And okay, if he was still working for Shiro, he could easily see himself doing it, but Shiro is the boss. Isn’t he supposed to be covering his ass? “That’s brave.”
He opens the door once they get to his car. He slides out and shuts it behind him, finding his own car exactly where he left it. He checks it the same way he checked Shiro’s then starts it, pulling out behind Shiro. With all the crawling on the ground he’s done, Shiro’s sweater might have a few extra holes. Especially after trying to wiggle under his own car.
"Oh, you were bein' a smartass?" There's a heavy dose of sarcasm in his tone while he rolls his eyes. But it's good to hear that Ichigo is still thinking of his sisters in this. Ever the protector. Has to make sure his sisters are alright, had to interrupt his own life to make sure Shiro gets through this treat.
He smirks slightly about that. "What would it be about? What it's like runnin' around the streets doin' everyone else's dirty work?" He scoffs, but it's good natured. "Whatever, I'm not that hard to figure out. How to understand a back alley drug dealer for dummies." He laughs, amusing himself.
Aiming a look at Ichigo, he arches a brow and disagrees. "I always need a bunch a' guys saying yes to me. Preferably hot ones." Not that he's sleeping with his staff. He tried that exactly twice. The first time was disastrously annoying and it was not a fluke.
It is a fair question, and he wants to argue that, but Ichigo keeps going to answer the question anyway. "I wasn't asking what you think, I was asking exactly what I asked." But he got Ichigo's option anyway and it doesn't surprise him. He notes that Ichigo didn't actually say yes or no to wanting him there, though. He's talking around the answer the same way Shiro did about the shirt. "I already plan on laying low for a while. As much as I can, at least. I think I'll stay in the penthouse for a while. It's a lot safer than the mansion but it'll seem less like hiding." And he can higher some muscle to keep around easy enough, like Ichigo's suggesting, he's stubborn about it. He has always been his own muscle. He's never needed security or guards, but this is getting bigger than he can handle on his own. It's getting bigger than he thinks he warrants, but he has made himself notoriously hard to get rid of.
He doesn't know how to feel about Ichigo trying to keep him and his maybe-boyfriend situation intact. It's good of him, it's the morally right thing to do. The only real problem with it Shiro has is that it's just further proof that he and Ichigo have no chance of being together again. "I'll figure things out with him, you don't need to worry about it." Or he wont. Maybe he'll sabotage his own building relationship and blame it on all the chaos of attempted assassination. His features even out. "All my habits?" This better not turn into a lecture. "He thinks I indulge a little too much sometimes, but otherwise he tolerates it. I doubt he expected anything less from a dealer. Most people don't know I was ever clean, only you. It was always weird for me not to use the product I was sellin'."
He slides into the driver seat and starts the car, then looks over at Ichigo and snorts. "You mean boring?" He shrugs. "I needed something with more cargo space that didn't stand out so much. It's easier to clean, too. Less work for my cleaner."
#whitemoon#tsp activity check#ahahaha listen#he just wants to quietly check up on Shiro without being noticed#but also if he pretends he’s just quietly sneaking around#he can also pretend that bumping into Shiro is an accident#he just wants an excuse to be there#that’s what he means by maybe it’s best if he can’t sneak in#because if he could he’d constantly be tempted#but if he can’t get in when he wants in#he’ll definitely just call Shiro lmao#like let me in your people are doing their jobs for once
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Your Heart is Spilling out, Babe
Pairing: Satoru Gojo/Reader
Summary: You and Satoru are friends with benefits. No feelings, that was the agreement from the start. Neither of you want anything more. Even if you did, it wouldn’t work out, anyways. Not that you care if it would.
Tags: fwb, smut, angst, YEARNING, requited unrequited feelings (or ARE they) but jk it’s totally no feelings, commitment/abandonment issues, not that it matters because you totally don’t have feelings anyways
“Mmmh… that’s it for me tonight. You can shower before you leave, if you want.”
“Oh? I can’t stay the night?” He asks, “Just gonna pump and dump me? So mean~”
A hum. “Knock yourself out. But you can’t shower in the morning, you’ll wake me up.”
“What a coincidence,” he lays down next to you, “I’m a late sleeper, too.”
You don’t say anything more, eyes already closed.
Satoru’s arm presses your form against his, just barely.
When he wakes up, you’re still laying there beside him, unmoving.
He leaves.
At first, Satoru tries to tell himself it’s a happy coincidence.
After all, isn’t it? His problem has always been the women (and men) who give him a certain kind of look before he gets up to leave.
The ones who text him back first, who read everything instantly, who always want to meet up again. The ones who always, inevitably, start to want something more.
Like him giving them the fuck of a lifetime with someone who could be a real-life supermodel and happens to be the greatest sorcerer on earth wasn’t enough. Granted, they don’t know about the sorcerer thing, but still!
It always turns out like this:
Things are good for a while. Sex is good, he gets attention when he texts them, they both understand this is totally casual, no commitment.
Sometimes he even brings up another hookup he’s going to, just to drive the point home, and he cheers them on when they’re getting some somewhere else, too.
(He’s got no reason to be insecure, after all. He would be anyone’s first choice.)
From there, he can admit some of it is his fault. It’s hard, being as irresistible as he is. Being so devastatingly good-looking and even better in bed.
Having so much humor and personality in his amazing texts (never mind that most of them just react with an emoji or a short haha or an unrelated compliment – he drinks it all up just the same).
They start to text him first, which is impressive, considering what a spammer he is. He likes to text them to fill his time, to talk to someone, have his notifications filled with messages of people who want him.
So what if it’s an ego boost? Isn’t that what they’re using him for, too?
But when they start texting him themselves, when they return his style of badgering, it’s not random and rambling. It’s affectionate, personal. They’ve gotten attached, and they want him to be, too.
It’s all nonsense like Saw this and thought of you, and You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met, and I want to meet up again soon.
He has to stop spamming with memes or selfies or random observations throughout his day, stop talking about shops or cafes he’d like to visit. Sometimes he has to mute their notifications, because when he spams other people, they feel comfortable spamming him.
And then it’s just a matter of how long he spends lying to himself. Because as much of an ass as he is, it’s cruel to let them get attached to him when he can’t really open up entirely. When he doesn’t want anything serious.
In fairness, he had told them from the start. He usually breaks it off only after a few days. He always sends them a message and just blocks them – it’s cleaner that way.
Answering any desperate Please, we can still be friends or No, let’s just hook up again, would give them hope for things he can’t give them.
But you?
You text him You’re the most annoying man I’ve ever met, and leave him on read for two days.
Satoru thinks he’s in love.
Not literally, of course, but in love with the relationship he has with you, which is perfect.
Everything about it is perfect, except for that it’s not going on all the time.
You respond to his memes with your own. Chat with him about cafes and desserts and even keep a handful at your home to treat him with. You text him cat pictures, sometimes return selfies if he’s lucky.
Usually he gets those when he sends the thirst pics, sitting there with a grin that scares Ichiji, absolutely giddy as he watches you type, stop typing – he knows you’re looking for something special to send him back.
It’s surprising, how well he just knows things about you. Maybe that was to be expected, though, with your chemistry.
Sex with you is like nothing he’s ever felt before.
You have this way of tensing up, expression shifting as you’re right about to cum – he thinks by now he’s conditioned by it, that just seeing you make that face could get him over the edge.
He’s fucked hot people before but no one like you. Seeing the same clothes from your cute little selfies slip off, it’s like unwrapping a present he can’t wait to eat up. Makes him salivate like a box of chocolates, like the one truffle package you got one time and made him eat on his knees with his head in your lap, out of your hands.
Fucking you is one of his favorite things ever, right up there with kikufuku and making fun of his coworkers (and students!). You’re a beautiful bend of reactive and pliant, so fun to tease and edge and so rewarding to please.
God, fuck, he wants you. He wants you all the time. All his other hookups are silenced in favor of you, boring conversations abandoned in favor of debating tiramisu and tres leches, and all other sorts of inane things.
What your favorite school subjects are, oddly enough (he supposes he was asking for it, telling you he taught high schoolers).
You like literature, he likes math, and when he hears you talk about it, he almost wants to read some of those novels you like so much. Non-sorcerer politics has never meant anything to him but it matters when he hears you talk about it.
It’s like hearing about a whole separate world with its own struggles. Your opinions are so well-thought out, he can tell just how much you care, and something hums along aside him as he asks questions, nods his head, really listens to what you have to say. It feels so surreal to hear someone whose goals are not so unlike his, when he thinks about it.
Maybe that’s where some of this fondness comes from. Maybe it’s humbling, thinking you want to change your world just as much as he wants to change his, and the only difference is how much people listen.
He can’t imagine not wanting to listen to you. People should listen more. You should run everything, he jokes.
(He’s joking. He’s joking. You don’t know enough to get why he says that twice.)
And then it’s not serious again – when was it ever, really? You talk about your favorite manga and anime and tease each other for your tastes. Maybe talk about episodes or movies you’ve seen together.
He’s admittedly a bit of a movie buff – it’s a real victory when he convinces you to watch one of his old favorites. When he finds out you watched it, he’s excited the whole day to hear what you thought.
You debate what animals you would be; you are definitely a cat – aloof and independent – and you’re quite insistent that he’d be a husky, energetic and annoying and – probably other words you say before he sends you a picture of his dick and you facetime him with some more interesting conversation.
Your days – weeks, months, really – they go on like that, they’re great. Everything is perfect, really.
So when he hears you casually mention you’ve got other dinner plans – when his mind instantly supplies we’re just casual, tease her and hope she gets lucky – the wretched, dark twist in his gut is wholly unexpected.
And he knows instantly. Immediately, really, because he’s just too smart not to.
He knows he doesn’t want you going out with other people. Touching them. Showing them the same faces you show him.
But if he wants you to be his, then he has to ask. And you – you make him wait to hear back.
You never reach out to him first. You open the door with a cool expression, like your heart doesn’t race at the sight of him like his does (he can see it is, he can see it, but his soul is withering at your look like you couldn’t care less).
Satoru doesn’t usually have to ask, not for anything.
People beg to be able to fuck him. They spam when he ghosts them, begging for scraps. He doesn’t have to ask for attention, people shower him in it.
Everyone wants him. They love him. They don’t abandon him along with all their morals and tell him to kill them if he doesn’t like it.
They beg him to stay, and he is the one who leaves.
He’s too much for them. Too much for anyone. You wouldn’t be able to hand him, anyways.
And he can leave any time he wants, he just… doesn’t want to.
(He never wants to leave. He wants it to stay like this, forever. But when does it ever turn out like that?)
Besides, you’re – you also want it to stay casual. Like he told you from the beginning. Probably trying to save your feelings from getting hurt – and can he blame you? Really, with his looks, anyone would be scared to lose him.
So this was just… a happy coincidence. You didn’t want it serious, he didn’t want it, either.
“Mmmh… that’s it for me tonight. You can shower before you leave, if you want.”
Satoru’s lip twitches, but it doesn’t manage a smile. It almost feels like you’re kicking him out.
But he knows you’re not, because even if you were the one person on earth who could resist his irresistible charm, he just gave you some absolutely mind-blowing sex.
“Oh? I can’t stay the night?” Satoru teases, “Just gonna pump and dump me? So mean~”
He says it playfully, casually, because it is casual. It wouldn’t bother him if you told him to fuck off right then and there. It wouldn’t.
You hum noncommittally. “Knock yourself out. But you can’t shower in the morning, you’ll wake me up.”
If he’s relieved that he can stay, it’s because he’s as exhausted as you are. Because you make him feel good, so fucking good, like he’s on top of the world. Having to leave would just be a mood killer.
“What a coincidence,” He purrs, laying next to you on the bed, “I’m a late sleeper, too.”
He is not and never has been. He sleeps three hours a night wakes up by 5am.
It’s never bothered him before. His dreams are not a place he wants to be. But they’ve never hurt him when you were there.
He wraps an arm around you, holding you against him, just barely. Not too tight.
You don’t say anything more. You lay there and let him hold you while you fall asleep.
When he wakes, you’re still laying there beside him, unmoving.
The thing is, you’re awake. He knows that. You’re a light sleeper. Always have been.
He knows you hate morning showers yourself, and always do it at night. Knows what you like for breakfast, how to make it. That you like to sleep in because you have trouble sleeping.
He knows what you think about late at night because you text him about it, because he’s always there texting you, because neither of you can sleep and someone ends up calling and whispering secret scattered thoughts in hushed tones and –
And he honestly doesn’t know, if it’s you or him that slips in the I want to touch you right now, or Want me to kiss it better. Who turns it into sex so things can’t get to be too much.
Satoru would really, really like to think that it’s him, but the truth is that he’s reaching the limit of how believable his lies are, even to himself.
He knows, he knows he knows he knows that if he stayed, you would let him –
(If he repeats it enough it will surely become true.)
– but you both agreed no feelings.
Besides, it’s not like he wants to stay, anyways.
(Why won’t you ask him to come back?)
You know what Satoru is the moment you meet him. It’s not like he’s made any secret of it, either.
A whore. A man-whore, if you will. A player. Whatever it is. He slept with people, drank in all the sex and attention and then went on his merry way.
You get it. This wasn’t the first time you’d met a pretty boy who fucked around, not by a long shot.
He says all casual, no feelings, you smile and nod, and you go back to his place fully expecting to be disappointed because pretty boys usually suck in bed.
And then he fucks you within an inch of your life.
He eats you like a man staved. Hands roving over your skin, groping and squeezing in a way that would be violating, if his beautiful eyes weren’t wild and desperate.
His body is toned and smooth and perfect, unmarred skin that he presses to yours like he’s trying to staunch the bleeding of some invisible wound.
You’ve never felt like this before. Sex has never been this amazing. He props his stupid pretty face up on his elbow and he gives you that stupid charming boyish smirk and asks you if you want to go another round, red-faced and eager. It’s overwhelming and exciting and amazing –
And it’s terrifying, because it’s always like this for him, isn’t it? He just came in and gave you the fuck of a lifetime, but this is just another lay for him.
(But he’s having fun. It’s good for him, too. So why don’t you take what you can get?)
So when he saves his number in your phone, That was awesome, babe, we should do this again sometime, you don’t put a lot of weight into his words. You roll his eyes when he blows you a kiss goodbye, but you don’t delete his number.
Even when he wakes you up with some silly cat meme (god, you hate morning people), somehow you find yourself smiling. You let him know he can get his dick sucked any time if he meows cute enough and woah, maybe you’re coming on too strong –
He sends you an attachment of himself wearing cat ears, striking an obnoxious pose, with a fake tail that he holds by the end in his mouth.
Satoru Gojo, that’s the name. And you do suck his dick, like you promised, but he comes to you determined to get in character, meowing at you, pressing his face into your hands, rubbing into your side, nuzzling your panties while he looks up into your face with a smirk.
It’s a fight to get him on his back and his legs open wide enough for you to settle in. He meows again like a kitty, and purrs like one too when you take his cock into your mouth, hands threading through your hair. Giggling at his own antics.
Your eyes water when you take him, deep, moaning and feeling him shudder at the feeling, long legs squirming on either side of you. He pulls away suddenly, with a pop, laughing when his dick hits the side of your face and you glare at him. Sticking out his tongue.
He looks so young. So heartbreakingly sweet and charming. He pulls you in to settle you on his cock, face-to-face this time, his smile melting into something soft and tacky, sticking to your lips as he kisses his precum away. Infectious delight.
Satoru holds your hands in his, palm to palm, as you ride him in his lap. Face tilted up to look at you with a blush on his cheeks. Blue eyes wide like they have to be, to take you in, as if they aren’t themselves oceans you have to stop yourself from falling into.
You can’t look into his eyes when you cum, when he cums. You’re not sure if he’s looking either.
But you feel him, oh, do you feel him – hands squeezing yours as if in warning, face buried into your neck, a moan that vibrates throughout the both of you.
When you wake up, the next morning, you don’t even mind the fact that he’s still next to you, cuddled up, right beside you. You don’t mind, until you feel him stiffen suddenly, like he’s realized you’re awake, immediately pulling away.
That’s… you’re not sure what it is, since cuddling was obviously okay, so why does he not want to do it while you’re awake? It is too close? Too intimate?
He’d held your hands while he stared deep into your eyes and rocked gently into you last night, but cuddling would be too intimate?
But he smiles that smile before he leaves, stumbling a little bit while he gets dressed, in that goofy way that lanky tall men sometimes do. You even overlook the fact that he’s renamed himself in your contacts. ~ Satoru ~ My Kitten.
Stupid. Stupid, stupid (you’re smiling already), unbearable man. You want to hit him in the face, with your face. Very hard.
Casually, of course. It’s casual between you. No feelings at all.
But then he starts texting you all the time. He double, triple, quadruple texts, with the infuriating shamelessness of someone who’s never been ignored in his life.
Like he’s never worried that the other person is losing interest. He carries himself like it, too, like he knows everyone wants him, and unfortunately, he’s right.
So you tell him he’s annoying and you don’t look at your phone again. Not until he shows up on your doorstep with that pout on his impossibly pretty face.
And you don’t turn him away. Why would you? If he’s going to offer himself on a platter, why not eat up?
You’re just being realistic here. If you fucked him once and never heard from it again, it would still hurt almost as much as it will now. You’ll just be a little lonelier without your texting partner, but you’ll get over it.
There’s other fish in the sea. Even if none of them are as pretty as him, none of them make them laugh like you do. You’re not exclusive. He can see other people, so can you. You’ve made it a point not to ask.
You don’t like what he’s doing now. How he pauses long, makes you wait before telling you to have fun on your date.
How the next time you see him there’s something strange in his eyes, something that leaves him with clawing hands, hungry mouth, eager to leave his marks all over you.
Satoru doesn’t stop texting you, doesn’t stop selfies, thirst traps, prodding little questions and jokes, doesn’t stop obnoxiously demanding (begging?) for your attention.
At first it was an ego boost. Now, it’s terrifying.
Because now he likes you, doesn’t he? He’s interested now. Having fun. Making you feel like he’s jealous, acting like he’s on withdrawal if he goes too long without you, making you feel like someone as beautiful and rich and funny as him could possibly be in love with you.
But he told you in the beginning. Something casual.
Maybe these feelings are real in the moment. But one day they’ll fade, and everything will be yanked right out from under you.
You’ll wonder why he’s getting distant these days. You’ll remember that you never made it official, and sweat over the possibility that he’s seeing someone else. At the end of the day that’s all you’ll be able to do; worry and worry while you’re too afraid to ask.
You’ll wonder what you did wrong. What you did to lose him. How you could go from someone so fascinating, someone he so thoroughly adored and fucked like he was making love, to an afterthought and a stranger, unless you did something wrong? Unless you made a mistake, somewhere along the line?
The mistake of getting attached to him in the first place.
Fuck that. Satoru can develop feelings on his own fucking time. He’ll lose them just as quickly, you can tell.
This isn’t anything more than a hookup to him. He’s an attention whore who likes to hear himself talk, and you’re dumb enough to entertain him because you’re lonely and easily amused, at least when it comes to him.
There’s nothing real here.
You still don’t know where he actually works, outside of some nebulous high school teaching situation. Where he lives. What he does most of the day, what his parents are like. Where he’s from, even. You don’t know if he’s seeing anyone else. He could be married with kids, for all you know.
Not – not that you care. Not that you give a fuck what he’s doing, who he’s fucking, where he is when he’s not with you. You don’t care about him past his dick and what it does to you.
If you did care, you’d only suffer for it. So you draw the line.
You don’t need him, and you want to keep it that way. You don’t want to get attached, and neither does he. So you try to keep him at arm’s length.
Close enough to touch but not so close that your foolish, eager heart can leap out of your chest and into his hands.
Would he still give you that boyish grin when he rejected you? Laugh and let you down gently? Would he say yes and hold your hand while you walked together to the guillotine, the painful end to a relationship that wasn’t supposed to happen anyways? Would he skip away while your heart seized and trembled on the executioner’s block?
He’d look pretty even with blood on his face, you’re sure. But you wouldn’t come out so nicely.
So you don’t ask him to stay. You don’t ask him for anything. You take what you’re given and you savor it, but you try – oh, god, do you fucking try – to find someone else, something else to occupy your time.
But he’s just too good. You want him. And you don’t get to have him if you ignore his texts and don’t answer when he’s at the door. You don’t get to fuck him if you won’t even let him see you.
So even if you look away, even if your answers are short, even if you don’t let him stay (not that he even wants to) – you have to let him in.
And unlike you, he’s got self-respect. He’s got other options. If he can’t have you, he’ll just fuck other people, so you can’t push him away too much. You have to make him want to come back. You have to make him want to give you more.
But you can’t control what Satoru wants, and that is the problem.
It’s out of your hands, locked securely in his ribcage where you can never get to it.
He doesn’t talk about his life, his history, doesn’t even complain about work during off hours.
Really, it’s already over, isn’t it? Has been, ever since the beginning. You’re just waiting for the inevitable end.
“Mmmh… that’s it for me tonight.” You say, tired. So tired, and warm. Satoru always leaves you like this; loose-limbed and floaty, high enough to feel the drop. “You can shower before you leave, if you want.”
“Oh? I can’t stay the night?” Satoru asks, teasing, “Just gonna pump and dump me? So mean~”
You close your eyes, trying not to think of what his face must look like.
“Knock yourself out. But you can’t shower in the morning, you’ll wake me up.”
“What a coincidence,” He purrs, laying next to you on the bed, “I’m a late sleeper, too.”
Satoru’s arm around your form presses you against him, just barely. Not too close. Never too close.
You don’t say anything more. You lay there and let him hold you while you fall asleep.
You can feel it when he wakes up. How his breathing changes, how he stiffens and tenses against you, you tumble out of sleep instantly, lashes fluttering.
You shut them closed again. Relax yourself. You don’t have to get up. You don’t want to get up.
Why isn’t he leaving yet? What’s taking him so long?
There’s this tension that creeps into your chest. Like you can feel each individual breath he takes. Waiting for him to say something, shake you awake – but why would he? And why would you want him to?
You know what this is. You’ve always known.
So you lay there, still, breathing calm and even, until he leaves.
(…Come back. Please come back.)
#jujutsu kaisen#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk smut#satoru gojo smut#lemon#female!reader#afab!reader#jjk x reader
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Gym "buddies"
Izuku's life changes the moment All Might gives him his gym membership card; he assures him he doesn't need it anymore (he's retired after all) and wants him to use it instead.
Izuku is a quirkless young man whose job is making support gear and suits for pro heroes, however, since he often wears them and tries them himself, he likes to keep himself in good condition. So far, he's been training at home, but now he has the opportunity to go to a proper gym.
He thanks the symbol of peace, hugs him, and leaves with excitement in his eyes.
However, his enthusiasm vanishes when he arrives and realizes that there are only two kinds of people in that place: very rich ones and pro heroes.
And he doesn't belong to any of those groups. After a while he decides to stay since All Might even called the place to let them know Izuku was going instead of him.
He can't disappoint him now.
Nervous, he looks around only to see Uravity and Pinky talking happily to each other; part of Izuku wants to get closer to them and ask for an autograph, but he decides to control himself.
It's not like any of them could recognize him; the pro heroes don't have the time to go in person and ask for repairs to the support department, instead, they send assistants or people who work in their respective agencies to leave the suits.
Of course, there are exceptions, there always are.
"Midoriya!"
Izuku gets slightly startled as he notices Ingenium, waving at him before walking towards where he is.
He's one of the few heroes who has met Izuku.
"Ingenium-san, hi!"
"Please, we've talked about this, just call me Iida."
He nods, cheeks turning slightly pink as he notices the pro heroes around looking at them both with curiosity.
He relaxes as soon as Iida starts talking with him, asking about his job in general and answering Izuku's enthusiastic questions about his latest missions; he's used to those already.
The next day, Uravity introduces herself and upon realizing Izuku has worked on her hero suit, she starts looking at him with admiration and awe; he doesn't think there's anything about him worth admiring, but he doesn't point that out.
He gets to know a lot of pro heroes at that gym and none of them have tried to kick him out so far, even though he doesn't quite belong there.
Izuku's first week is amazing, and he believes there's nothing that can change his mind about it until the second week.
Turns out Dynamight goes to that gym too.
Actually, he's one of the current pro heroes Izuku admires the most, so Izuku is tempted to get closer at first, until he notices the explosive hero has been staring at him the whole time since he arrived.
He can't read the blond's expression, but he assumes Dynamight doesn't like him that much so Izuku decides to keep his distance from him.
He chooses a treadmill that's at the other side of the room to get started. Izuku takes a deep breath, relaxes, and closes his eyes for a few seconds until he hears someone pressing buttons on the treadmill next to him.
He almost falls off when he notices Dynamight. However, Izuku recovers quickly and decides to pretend nothing happened.
Although he swears he can feel the blond's red eyes on him the whole time.
After a while, he goes to one of the leg press machines before he notices that Dynamight is following him closely.
"You work for Hatsume."
Alright, now that he's talking to him, Izuku can't keep pretending he doesn't exist so he turns around to face him. The guy is not only taller but clearly stronger than him.
"Yes, I'm–"
"Midoriya Izuku, I know," Dynamight cuts him off, looking like he didn't mean to. His face turns a little bit pink.
"How do you know that?" He blurts out, genuinely curious.
The pro hero starts rubbing the back of his neck like he's nervous, and he looks away from Izuku for a moment before answering his question.
"I go to her lab often because I like to know exactly what's done to my suit," he admits. "I saw you for the first time a few months ago; Hatsume told me she had a new, very talented employee and that he was the one working on my gauntlets. I got closer to ask you personally what the hell you were doing to my stuff, but you were so happily focused I couldn't... interrupt you."
Izuku notices then, the fond smile curling up the corners of Dynamight's lips, and he regrets glancing at him because he looks very handsome when he actually smiles.
"Uhh..."
"I kept going after that, but you were always so focused on your work you never noticed me," the pro hero continues, pouting a bit. He's so used to the attention he probably doesn't like when he doesn't get it.
"I'm sorry, Dynamight-san..."
"I'm Katsuki, and I want you to call me by my name, Izuku."
His own name on the pro hero's lips sounds so intimate, Izuku blushes immediately. It's even worse when Katsuki notices and smirks at him.
"Ka..." Even trying it makes him feel flustered, so of course he immediately screws it. "Kacchan!"
The pro hero looks back at him in confusion and Izuku is seriously thinking about giving All Might his membership back and never going back to that place when Katsuki chuckles as he puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Fine, you can call me that if you want."
After that Katsuki always follows him whenever he's in the gym at the same time Izuku is; he even helps him when Izuku struggles to figure out new machines and makes a very intense workout routine for him.
Izuku is sure they're very good friends now, and he often laughs at his past self for believing Katsuki hated him.
He used to think he had a bad temper, but turns Bakugo Katsuki is a very sweet guy, although Izuku knows it's better not to say that out loud.
The most surprising thing about pro hero Dynamight is that he's rather clumsy, which is really weird considering he's so precise during his battles (Izuku has watched a few of those) but at the gym he's constantly dropping things and bumping into machines, especially when Izuku has his back on him and bends over to do a particularly difficult exercise.
It's so odd.
He hears a noise behind him and turns around only to find Katsuki on the floor, face red and a little bit of blood coming from one of his nostrils.
"Kacchan, are you alright?"
"He's fine, Midobro!" Kirishima grins, looking quite amused.
"What happened?"
"He got distracted by your... leggings."
Izuku looks at Red Riot in confusion before looking down at his legs; the leggings are not that bright, they're dark red and not flashy at all. He wonders what was that interesting about them that got Katsuki distracted.
"I see that leg day has been really good on you, bro," Kirishima points out, following Izuku's eyes. "You have very thick–"
"SHUT THE HELL UP, SHITTY HAIR!" Katsuki growls, rising from the ground before standing in the middle of Izuku and Kirishima. "Do you want to die?"
"Calm down, Bakubro!" Kirishima chuckles, looking quite relaxed. He's probably used to the other pro hero's displays of irritation. "I'm just being nice to our friend!"
"Fine!" Katsuki says, but he still pushes Izuku behind himself even more, although he does it gently.
***
After an intense workout routine, Izuku ends up on the floor, exhausted. A hand touches his forehead as a big shadow looms over him for a moment.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, just give me a second, Kacchan."
The same hand appears in front of him, and Izuku wakes it without hesitation. Before he can even blink, he's back on his feet already.
Katsuki hands him a bottle of cold water.
"Thank you!" It's been barely a month, but it feels like Katsuki has known him his whole life.
Sometimes it's like he can hear Izuku's thoughts.
"Come, nerd. I'll take you to your apartment."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I have time today."
Katsuki also pays him quick visits to Hatsume's lab, and he actually stays there and talks to him. Izuku takes his break whenever he appears.
"I'm glad you finally decided to talk to your crush," Hatsume tells him the first time the pro hero draws Izuku's attention by saying his name. "It was a bit sad to watch you pine and give him the heart eyes in silence."
"SHUT UP!"
"Kacchan, relax," he chuckles, as he notices him turning bright red at the young woman's words. "She's just joking!"
Because there's no way that's true. Hatsume probably just wants to piss Katsuki off. He'd never look at Izuku with love in his eyes.
It's ridiculous.
Usually, Hatsume doesn't like having pro heroes there, but she makes an exception with Katsuki because he helps them test new gear, especially the magnetic shields she has designed for some heroes.
Besides, she likes watching things explode.
Although the number of times Katsuki is there has led to some of Izuku's coworkers getting the wrong idea about them.
Even the pro heroes at the gym ask Izuku the weirdest questions every now and then.
"We're more like... gym buddies?" Even that sounds odd coming from his mouth, Izuku has no idea why.
"I think you're saying gym boyfriends wrong, sweetie," Ashido chuckles, prompting Kaminari to laugh too.
It's a good thing Katsuki is on patrol that day; he would've gotten mad.
"No, I'm serious," Izuku says, turning bright red. "We're just friends!"
"Wow, Bakugo is an idiot," Kaminari gives Ashido a weird look.
"He totally is!" She agrees. "Anyone could try to steal this cutie if he doesn't hurry up!"
Izuku wants to tell them that their relationship is not like that, but it seems that no matter what he says they're not going to change their minds; they seem to believe Katsuki is secretly in love with him or something.
He has no idea why.
***
Izuku meets pro hero Shoto one Thursday evening; he just finished his work and headed straight to the gym.
When he sees him, he gets immediately flustered. It's not every day one gets to meet Japan's number two pro hero after all.
"Hi. I don't think I have ever seen you before."
Pro hero Shoto is very blunt sometimes.
"I've been coming here since September... so, yeah, I'm practically new here," Izuku smiles, prompting the pro hero to do the same. "I'm Midoriya Izuku!"
"Oh," finally, something akin to recognition in those mismatched eyes. "I've heard your name before. You fixed my suit last time it got destroyed by a villain, right?"
"Yes, that'd be me!"
"You did a great job. I was very impressed."
"Thank y-you, pro hero Shoto!"
"Please, call me Todoroki or just Shoto, if you want."
"Izuku!" Katsuki calls as soon as he walks in the gym. "Come here, I need to bench press you right now!"
He does that a lot lately; he uses Izuku instead of the very expensive equipment around, Katsuki assures him it's better that way, but he's not sure about that.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Todoroki comments then. "There's plenty of things you can use instead of Midoriya."
"What the hell are you doing here, half and half?"
"Toya and the old man got into a fight again," he says like it's nothing that surprises him anymore. "They were in our private gym when it happened, so it's destroyed now. It'll take a couple of days for the people we called to leave it as it was before. That's why I'm here."
Izuku is sure Todoroki doesn't say it to show off, but now he gets an idea of how rich he actually is.
He's so impressed he doesn't notice Katsuki until he's in front of him, almost like he wants to shield him from the other pro hero.
"Come with me, Izuku."
Todoroki looks from one to the other with curiosity.
"Is it really better if you try it with a person?" He asks before looking over Katsuki's shoulders, directly at Izuku: "Can I bench press you too, Midoriya?"
"FUCK OFF, HALF AND HALF!"
***
Todoroki becomes a good friend of his; he keeps coming to same gym as Izuku even after the one in his house is complete again.
Although, Katsuki gets a bit tense whenever he the three of them hang out; Izuku is not sure why, Ashido assured him they were in good terms, sure they're rivals, but they are also friends.
"Do you like half and half?"
"Absolutely, he's a great friend!"
"I don't mean it like that, nerd," Katsuki gets slightly irritated, as he usually does when Izuku doesn't understand what he's trying to say. "I mean if you like him... romantically."
"Oh!" Izuku blushes; he doesn't talk about romance around the pro hero... ever, so he gets a bit nervous, well, it's actually because the one he finds very attractive is Katsuki, but he's not going to say that. "No, I only see Todoroki as a friend."
Katsuki relaxes after that; they finish their routines like nothing happened, but the tension comes back to his shoulders after they take a shower and get ready to leave the gym.
Looking down at the floor instead of him, Katsuki takes one of Izuku's hands in his to stop him.
"What is it, Kacchan?"
"Would you like to go for a coffee with me?"
"Of course, although we usually do that!"
This time, Katsuki looks into his eyes before continuing: "No, I mean... as a date."
For a second, Izuku thinks he's dreaming, but he wouldn't blush that much in one of his dreams; he's usually more confident.
"Yes, I'd love to!"
Katsuki gives him one of those happy, devastating smiles of his before intertwining their fingers together.
Izuku needs to call All Might and thank him for that membership again, but he'll probably do that later.
He has to focus on his date with Katsuki first.
***
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Streamed
(All characters are 18+)
Zane Matthews was a typical 18-year-old high school senior—lazy, a self-proclaimed liberal, and unapologetically gay. He had no particular ambitions, other than to survive senior year and maybe stream his favorite games for a small audience. Life was simple for him. He spent most of his time in his room, slouched in front of a screen, eating takeout and diving deep into the world of online gaming.
Zane's favorite pastime was watching his favorite streamer, Austin Steele, a 21-year-old jock-turned-streamer who had the kind of charisma that could light up an entire stadium. Austin was everything Zane wasn’t: athletic, outgoing, effortlessly charming, and very straight. Austin didn’t just play video games—he was a fitness buff who also lifted weights, ran marathons, and shared motivational advice with his massive following. It didn’t hurt that he had the kind of body that looked like it belonged on the cover of a fitness magazine.
On this particular night, Zane had just finished his homework (barely), grabbed a bag of chips, and decided to tune into Austin’s latest livestream. Austin was playing a game, his muscular arms flexing as he maneuvered his controller with the ease of someone who had mastered not only the game but also the art of streaming. His viewers adored him, especially when he would occasionally take off his shirt to reveal his chiseled abs, sometimes tossing in a wink or a flex to keep the chat buzzing.
"Yo, what's up, guys?" Austin’s voice crackled through Zane’s headphones. "Alright, let’s get this game rolling. We’ve got a long way to go tonight."
Zane smiled to himself, watching the screen with an almost hypnotic fascination. He'd never been one of Austin’s die-hard fans, but there was something magnetic about the guy. His life seemed so effortless, so full of energy and confidence. Zane sometimes found himself envious of Austin's persona, though he'd never admit it. He liked being alone, preferred his quiet, less demanding life.
But tonight, something strange happened.
As Zane watched Austin’s stream, he noticed that the chat was gradually starting to empty out. It was late, after all, and most people had already logged off. First, a few usernames disappeared, then a dozen, until finally, the stream was down to a single viewer: Zane. He glanced at the viewer count—1. Just him.
Austin, seemingly unaware that the stream had almost cleared out, kept chatting away, playing his game.
"Haha, well, looks like it’s just you and me now, buddy," Austin said with a grin, addressing Zane directly. "You still with me, man?"
Zane blinked, momentarily thrown off. He had been watching Austin's streams for months, but this was the first time he'd ever been the only viewer. A weird sense of connection washed over him. The loneliness of it all felt oddly intimate.
"Yeah, I’m here," Zane typed into the chat, his fingers moving quickly over the keys.
Austin’s eyes flicked to the chat, his smile widening as he read Zane’s message. "Nice, man. Glad you stuck around. You know, I don’t usually do this, but you seem like a cool dude. How about I show you something real cool?"
Zane raised an eyebrow. "Show me what?"
Austin leaned closer to the camera, his face half-lit by the glow of his computer screen. His muscles were more defined up close, his jaw sharp, and his confident grin never faltered.
"Let me show you what a real transformation looks like."
Before Zane could ask what he meant, Austin’s fingers moved in a practiced, deliberate pattern, tapping his screen in a way that seemed almost ritualistic. A soft hum filled the audio, vibrating with a strange energy. Zane’s heart skipped. Something was off, but at the same time, his curiosity was piqued. He leaned forward.
The screen flickered, the room around him becoming dimmer. Zane tried to pull his focus away from the screen, but there was something hypnotic in Austin’s voice.
"Just relax, man. You’ve been watching me for a while now, right? You know I’m all about hard work, fitness, success. And I think… I think it’s time for you to see what you’re really capable of. Just let go of who you think you are, and let me show you the real you."
Zane’s eyelids grew heavy, and a strange warmth spread through his chest. His fingers hovered above the keyboard, not really knowing what to do with them. His head swam, and the words Austin spoke seemed to fill him, until they were the only thing that mattered.
"Let’s take you from here… and make you into something greater. Something stronger. Something… better."
With a final, sharp breath, Zane closed his eyes. The warmth that had been building inside him suddenly surged, crashing through his body like a tidal wave. His skin tingled, then burned, as though his very cells were being rewritten.
When Zane opened his eyes again, everything was different. The first thing he noticed was the way the air around him felt—thicker, more charged, as though his body had become a conduit for some unseen force. He raised a hand to his face, only to find that his features were sharper, more defined. His cheekbones were higher, jaw stronger. His entire body felt different—taller, leaner, more powerful. He instinctively flexed his arms, feeling the muscle beneath his skin.
He stood up, looking in the mirror across his room. Staring back at him was not the skinny, slightly awkward kid he used to be, but a completely different person—a tall, chiseled young man with a muscular frame, broad shoulders, and abs that could rival any fitness model’s. His hair was tousled perfectly, dirty blonde, falling in effortless waves that added a kind of raw, athletic charm to his appearance. It was the kind of hair that begged to be touched, full of that "I woke up like this" vibe, and it suited him perfectly.
But the most jarring change wasn’t physical. It was the way he felt—there was a new energy, a hunger to be the best, to prove something, to conquer. The Zane who had been shy, introverted, and uncertain had disappeared. In his place was a straight, athletic, and undeniably confident jock—someone who thrived on the attention and admiration of others.
He looked at himself in the mirror, his body rippling with strength as he flexed his arm again. The reflection staring back at him was now someone else—someone who could easily dominate the social scene, someone whose looks and charm were magnetic. This new version of Zane—who now silently thought of himself as Carter Steele—felt so at home in this body that he didn’t even think twice about the change.
Carter Steele stood tall, his new body brimming with confidence. He turned back to his computer, pulling off his shirt without thinking. He loved the way the cool air felt against his bare skin. With ease, he set up a new stream under his new identity. His fingers moved quickly, his body naturally relaxed as if he’d done this a thousand times before.
He was confident, charismatic, and ready. Within minutes, the viewers began flooding in, drawn by the raw magnetism of Carter’s athletic physique and the new, confident aura he now projected. The chat exploded with compliments, cheers, and flirtatious messages—mostly from jocks and cheerleaders from school, who had never paid him much attention before. They were drawn to him now, as if they’d always been waiting for him to become this version of himself.
"Looking good, bro!" one of his old friends messaged in the chat. Carter typed back without hesitation, a cocky smile on his face. "Thanks, bro. Been hitting the gym hard."
His old self—Zane, the lazy, slightly awkward gamer—was gone, replaced by Carter Steele, a popular, straight, athletic, and incredibly confident jock. As he leaned back, enjoying the instant attention he was receiving, he couldn't help but flex his abs for the camera. His chest swelled with pride, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Carter Steele had arrived, and he couldn’t care less about who Zane had been.
This was the life he was meant to live.
Carter Steele's streaming career was booming. His channel was flooded with fans, mostly from school, who couldn’t get enough of his chiseled physique, cocky attitude, and the way he effortlessly dominated not just the gym, but every social circle around him. He was the classic "high school king" with a fanbase that adored him for his confidence and presence.
Of course, his popularity wasn’t just because of his athleticism—he’d also gained a reputation for his no-nonsense, unapologetically conservative views, which were often a topic of discussion on his streams. He didn’t hesitate to voice his thoughts on anything and everything, including the culture he found "too soft" and people he felt needed to "toughen up."
And tonight, like most nights, he was streaming from his room, shirtless, his muscles gleaming under the lights as he played his favorite game. Mia, his new girlfriend, was perched on his lap. She was everything he needed to look good—pretty, bubbly, and a little ditzy. Her blonde hair bounced as she giggled, her hands playfully running through Carter’s abs as the chat lit up with comments about how perfect they looked together.
"Heyyy, guys!" Mia chirped, her voice overly sweet and high-pitched. "I’m Mia! I'm, like, so excited to be on the stream tonight with my hottie." She giggled again and leaned back against Carter’s chest, her body naturally curling into his as she flashed a peace sign to the camera. "Like, totes happy to be here."
The chat exploded with comments like “#couplegoals” and “perfect match,” but Carter wasn’t one to get carried away by compliments. He grinned, flexing his bicep a little just to show off.
Mia continued, completely unaware of how she came off. "I, like, have to say, though," she giggled, "there’s, like, soooo many people out there who just can’t take a joke anymore. Like, everything’s offensive now. Ugh, it’s, like, so lame."
Carter chuckled darkly, his fingers hovering over the controller as he shot a quick glance at Mia. "Yeah, for real. It’s like, everyone’s so sensitive these days. People need to learn how to, like, take a joke, you know? I mean, who cares if someone has an opinion? It's like, just don’t be a whiny little snowflake about it. You don’t have to agree with everyone. That's what’s wrong with the world today—too much of this 'everyone’s equal' crap."
Mia nodded, her lips pouting cutely as she leaned closer to Carter’s chest. "Yeah! Like, totally, right? And, like, I’m not trying to be mean or anything, but I just think it’s, like, weird when people try to, like, push their agenda on everyone. I mean, I’m, like, super chill, but some things just, like, shouldn't be a thing, you know? Like, it’s just so awkward when people act all like, ‘Oh, you have to accept me’ and blah blah blah. Like, no, honey. You do you, but don’t expect me to agree with it, okay?"
Carter’s smirk deepened. He ran a hand through his perfectly tousled hair, the way it fell naturally into place making him look even more "effortlessly cool." "Exactly. Like, do whatever, but don’t expect me to give a damn. Some things just aren’t natural, and people need to accept that. Like, if a guy wants to, I don’t know, wear makeup or whatever, sure, but that doesn’t mean I gotta like it. Like, I'm not here for that nonsense."
"Totally, babe!" Mia giggled, playing with a lock of her hair. "It’s, like, yikes, right? It’s just so—ugh, I don’t even know how to explain it. Like, I’m fine with people doing their thing, but, like, don't, like, force it on other people. Like, some people just need to chill and stop trying to get everyone to agree with them. It's, like, so not a vibe."
Carter laughed, clearly enjoying the attention from both the camera and Mia. He flexed his abs again for the viewers, trying to show off, but he also enjoyed making bold, dismissive statements. "I hear you, babe. People are just way too caught up in trying to make everyone think the same. There’s a line, and if you cross it, you just look like a joke. It’s simple: you do you, but don’t make me do you. It’s like, if someone’s gay or whatever, I don’t care. But don’t come at me with all that nonsense like I’m supposed to act like it’s all normal. You know?"
The chat was a mix of comments: some applauding him, others questioning the boldness of his statements. But Carter didn’t care—he knew the people who followed him loved his no-holds-barred approach. The jocks, the cheerleaders, the ones who shared his views—they were all still watching. That was all that mattered.
Mia giggled again, leaning in and whispering into Carter's ear. "Yeah, like, totes. And I don’t, like, mean to be rude, but it’s just so annoying when people get all, like, ‘Oh, you have to be okay with it.’ Like, no, I don’t. Sorry, not sorry, right?"
"Exactly," Carter said with a confident chuckle, giving Mia a playful squeeze. "It's like, you’re not my boss. You don’t get to tell me how to live or what to think. I’m not going to sit here and act like I’m all in with your ‘new world’ crap, you know? People need to suck it up, grow a spine, and stop being so damn sensitive. Life’s too short for that."
Mia nodded, smiling up at him with that ditzy, innocent expression, oblivious to the controversy. "Totes agree, babe. Life’s, like, so much easier when you just don’t give a crap about what other people think."
The chat continued to pour in—some laughing, some not so happy about what was being said, but Carter and Mia didn’t care. They were in their own bubble, high on their own self-confidence and their views. Carter loved the attention, the validation that came with his "alpha" status, and Mia loved being by his side, playing the role of the cute, supportive girlfriend.
Carter adjusted himself in the chair, his gaze cool and unfazed. He didn’t need anyone else’s approval to feel good about himself. He had everything he wanted—strength, popularity, and a girlfriend who never challenged him.
"Alright, guys," Carter said, giving the camera one last wink, "We’ll catch you later. And remember, stop being soft. The world’s tough—learn to deal with it."
The stream ended with the usual flood of comments and emojis, but for Carter, this was just another night at the top. He had everything figured out, and nobody was going to change his mind about anything.
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