#You just make me hold my head in my hands and sigh really loud and try not to send you to the shadow realm

[starzify]

sorry ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

pairing dean x fem!reader

warnings smut | fingering | p in v. | angst

MASTERLIST

Being with Dean was challenging at times, because no matter how much he trusts you or how good things really are, he's always expecting the rug to be pulled out from under him. Even if sometimes he is the metaphorical rug.

You've had many arguments before, but none of them have hurt like this. You often found yourself in bed alone, usually because the boys were out hunting or catching up on lore, and you were honestly okay with that because they were saving the world, literally. But sometimes, you missed laying next to your boyfriend.

When you came to peel him away from whatever article he was reading on the computer, he snapped at you, saying a few things that were very unnecessary. It had sent you back to bed angrier and more hurt than you had ever been before.

It only took a few minutes of harsh silence before he came stomping down the hallway and into your shared room. You didn't dare move a muscle, remaining on your side with your arms crossed and glare settled on the wall in front of you.

He took a moment to kick off his shoes and slip out of his flannel before shuffling into bed behind you, a heavy hand resting on your hip that was covered by the duvet

"Sweetheart…" He began. "Go away, Dean." You said coldly, unravelling your arms to shove his hand off of you.

"Look— I'm sorry." He rasped quietly. "Could've fooled me." He sighed. "I— didn't mean what I said, I'm just… tired. This case has been whoopin' mine and Sammy's ass." He explained. "I just wanna catch this thing before it kills anyone else. I ended up taking my anger out on you and you didn't deserve it," Dean took your relaxed body as a sign to be able to spoon you. "Fuck, honey. I'm sorry."

"You really hurt my feelings, you know?" You whispered meekly. "I know baby, I know." He murmured into your neck.

You basked in his closeness, in the strength of his arm wrapped around your softened midsection. You shivered when you felt him place gentle kisses onto the exposed skin of your neck, his strong arm holding you pressed your back harder onto his chest.

"Let me take care of you." He said softly but sultrily, his palm slipping up to cup your braless breast. You whimpered at the feeling, but nonetheless grinded back on his growing bulge as he stimulated your nipples.

"Please." You breathlessly begged.

He was quick to turn you on your back, lips slamming down on yours. He devoured your mouth, his tongue demanding entrance as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your pajama shorts. He groaned lowly at the fact that you had no panties on.

"Was this what you were gonna give me to make me feel better?" He asked with an amused smirk painted on his lips. Your skin flushed but you nodded shyly. "If it would have helped you, yeah." You confessed sheepishly. "Can't believe I was such an asshole to my sweet girl."

His fingers teased your damp folds, sliding a finger between them to collect your slick before prodding at your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat, a small whine leaving you as he joined your lips together once more.

It was like he was trying to destroy you from the inside-out. His strong fingers worked your entrance open, the man slipping in a second finger. Your legs twitched around his arm, loud mewls passing between the both of you whenever he'd hit your g-spot.

You pulled away from your spit soaked kiss to cry out. "Dean, baby, 'm gonna cum!"

He slipped in a third and final finger. He twisted his wrist torturously, his thumb reaching up to rub furiously at your clit. Your hand gripped desperately at his wrist, holding it to your body as you desperately rode his hand.

"There you go, sweetheart. There ya go." He talked you through your orgasm. "Dean… Dean…" You chanted his name like a prayer.

"Fuck." You heaved after taking a few moments to catch your breath. "You okay?" He asked gruffly. You nodded your head, your own fingers tangling themselves up in his spiky hair.

"I need you in me." You said as you cradled the back of his head. "Don't know if I deserve it." He said with a teasing pout.

"Ugh, just c'mere." You said with a grin, tugging your boyfriend over your body. "If you don't fuck me, then I'll be sad again. How does that sound?"

You asked playfully. "Not good." He murmured with a matching grin.

He was quick to take off his jeans, practically falling over himself to get naked as you finally stripped yourself of your own as well. Both of you were as naked as the day you were born by the time he had his cock lined up to your entrance.

His tip teased your clit, which caused you to whine in displeasure. "Dean…" He chuckled lightly. "Sorry, honey."

With his hands on either side of your head, he entered you, your head falling back in pleasure at the feeling.

"Jesus." He groaned. "Feels so good, baby." He praised. Tiny whimpers left you as he bottomed out, sheathed all the way to the hilt as your velvety walls fluttered around him selfishly.

"Shit! Please move." You begged.

Dean would be damned if you had to beg for fucking anything tonight. Pulling out slowly, he slammed his hips into yours. A loud smack resounded throughout the room, a choked moan slipping out of you.

"Ah!" His tip brushed against your g-spot pleasurably. Your nails dug into his back as he pounded into you, holding onto the taller man for dear life as he continually stretched you out.

Your velvety walls sucked him in greedily, like they were practically trying to keep him inside of you. You could feel that familiar coil in your stomach tighten continuously, a feeling that Dean had made sure you were familiar with for the past years that you've been with him.

Your pussy burned with overstimulation as you neared your end, and it made it harder for Dean to move in and out of you.

"You gonna cum, baby?" He asked through gritted teeth. "Y— yes!" You stuttered. "Cum for me then, sweetheart." Your hand slipped down to rub at your clit hurriedly, your back arching at the overwhelming feeling.

"Fuck!" You swore as you came, your chest pressed against Dean's. One of his arms held himself up as the other stretched over your back to keep your upper body anchored to him as you rode out your high.

"Holy shit." You gasped, your chest heaved with each quick breath you attempted to take.

"Best apology ever." You said with a hazy laugh.

tags: @bluemerakis @ultravi0lence14 @deansbeer @figthoughts @titsout4jackles @lanadelreyscokewhor3 @deanangel @haunteres @whisperingdaze @inspiredangel @pointocean @floralscented

cassie chats: i love how this is 10% angst and 90% smut GOODBYE 😭

[seungcheorry]

"chan, you idiot!", seungkwan exclaimed, his hand itching to slap his youngest member. "how can you be so clueless all the time?"

and, once again, chan had that look on his face, as if he didn't know shit - and to be honest, he didn't.

"what did i do this time?"

"they aren't saying they are bored because they think you're not interestant or annoying", seungkwan rolled his eyes. "although you are very much annoying."

chan sighed, covering his eyes with his hand. of course he wouldn't get out of that conversation without being insulted at least once, even though he know his hyung didn't actually mean it.

he went to his hyungs, sharing this one thing that has been bothering him; you.

oh, don't get me wrong, chan liked you so much. he felt attracted to you the moment he laid eyes on you, and was over the moon when he found out you also liked him. however, everytime the two of you hang out, you always look a bit... annoyed. bored. disappointed. like you were expecting something else.

"then what? what should i do to entertain them?"

"chan-ah, don't be silly", seungcheol laughed when jeonghan stopped seungkwan from getting up to hit chan. "they look like that because they want you to act on your feelings."

"act on my feelings?", there surely was lots of '???' over chan's head.

"oh my god...", seungkwan groaned.

"you like them, they like you. they're expecting you do do something about that", a calm seungcheol explained, shrugging.

and those words stayed with chan for the whole time he was away from you, counting the days to see you again and try to test his hyung's theory.

so now he's sitting right beside you on his couch. your head is resting on a cushion, once again a bored expression on your face as you don't pay much attenttion to the movie that is playing on his tv. chan takes a look at you from the corner of his eye, mirroring your expression and sighing a little too loud; but it's okay, it's all part of his plan.

"what?", you ask him.

"um, nothing...", he let his body melt on the couch, to look even more bored. "this movie is shitty."

"it is, i stopped watching like ten minutes ago."

with a sigh too, you sit up straight to look around the room. chan is watching your every move, getting ready to say his next words out loud.

"yeah, i feel you. i'm really bored right now."

"hm, me too..."

and it's comical, actually, how you turn to look at chan and how his eyes slightly shine when the two of you say together:

"wanna kiss?"

there it is. chan smiles, not only because his plan has half worked (and definitely not because his hyungs were right), but because you thought the same thing he did, and maybe you too were just waiting for him to be as bored as you to act on your wishes.

"thought you would never ask", you chuckle, already throwing yourself at chan, smacking your lips against his.

he welcomes you with passion, holding your waist and helping your adjust beside him while his lips works wonderful on yours, parting them just enough so he can slip his tongue into your mouth.

it's great, and it makes chan's chest burn with that feeling he hasn't felt in so long - he really likes you; he's just on the edge to actually fall in love with you.

and god, he hopes you're right beside him on that edge too.

a/n: inspired by this moment right here.

[girliism]

Pls girl pls make this into a longer fic i dare you

https://www.tumblr.com/girliism/773339913919823872/choking-patrick-while-you-ride-his-head-was

dare accepted.

you card your hands through patrick hair getting them tangled in his little curls that you tug on. “want you to be rough again. like last time” patrick whispers, in the middle of you laying kisses on his neck. you look up catching his eyes that have a slight haze to them. you tighten your fingers on his hair, and pull harder than before.

“like this?” you question, tugging his hair again. patrick whimpered a little, nodding. “yeah— yes.” you couldn’t help but laugh a little. pushing patrick so his back hit the bed. “you really like it when girls smaller than you push you around, huh?” you pulled his shirt up over his head, and let your hands feel down his chest. he nods, but you wanted a verbal answer. “say it, wanna hear you say it.” you pinched and pulled on his nipples. “i like it when you push me a-around.” you throbbed at how fucked out patrick looked. you were not use to seeing him like this, but it’s something you could get use to.

you let your hands trace of his facial features stopping to play with his lips. pulling it back, and letting it pop back in place. then you decided to try something. you landed a soft slap on his cheek watching for his reaction. patrick’s mouth fell open with a breathy whine. so you hit him harder, the sound echoed in the room and patrick’s hips bucked up with a moan. “of course you’re a pain slut.” you made your way to the dresser

patrick sat up on his elbows, and watched you pull out a tie of the top drawer. “probably like being tied up too, huh?” you played with black tie in your hands, striding towards him. he nodded with a lip bite. you smirked and directed him to scoot higher up the bed, taking his wrist and tying it the bedpost. the tie was soft against his skin, not too tight and too loose. he felt helpless laying there his cock hard and aching. he felt even more helpless when you finally removed yours and his clothes and sunk down onto his dick setting a steady pace.

you moved up and down using patrick as merely a vessel for your own pleasure. “you look so pretty tie up like this, pat.” you rolled your hips faster keeping a firm grip on his jaw so he keeps eye contact. “my pretty boy.” patrick groans, his hips threatening to jerk up, but something in him knows better. “am— am i also your good boy?” you cooed, bringing your hands rest on his neck. “of course you are. you’re being so good just letting me use you.” your head fell back with little moans leaving your mouth. one of your hands came down to rub circles on your clit as you fucked yourself faster on patrick.

“m’so close. c-can you choke me, please need it.” patrick babbled. you knew it was gonna cum soon you could see it in how his hands strained against the tie, and how loud he was getting. you tighten the grip you had on his neck and squeezed. “fu-ck.” he stuttered the best he could, his words coming out as barely a whisper. patrick’s eyes crossed, and his head fell back his orgasm ranging through him. you own orgasm followed shortly after his, the feeling of his cum fill you and leaking out.

you released your hold on his neck, and patrick sucked in a big breath of air. you moved off of him to untie his wrist. patrick flopped his hands down, and you pulled his head to rest on your thighs. he immediately buried his face in your stomach. “you did so good, baby.” your fingers combed softly through his hair. he let out soft sighs, and left small kisses on the skin below your belly button.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Not-So-Melatonin Mishap

Warning: mentions of kk and reader being high... more so kk

Pairing: KK Arnold x Reader

Rating: Teen

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: Kk being kk...

The buzzing in my chest wouldn’t stop. It had been one of those days where everything felt like too much—the loud dining hall, the never-ending assignments, and the sheer pressure of balancing school and sports. By the time I got back to my dorm, I was exhausted but jittery. My anxiety refused to let me settle, and I knew it was time for one of my gummies.

I kept them in an old melatonin bottle on my dresser, mostly to avoid any awkward questions. Nobody ever bothered questioning “melatonin,” but the gummies were actually medicated for anxiety, prescribed to help me calm down during my rougher days.

Just as I was about to grab the bottle, KK popped into my room.

“You good, babe?” she asked, tossing her bag onto my desk chair.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound normal. “Just need my ‘melatonin’ gummies. Can you grab the bottle off my dresser?”

“Sure thing.” KK strode across the room, grabbed the bottle, and handed it to me. I popped a gummy into my mouth and smiled at her.

“Thanks, KK.”

“No problem,” she said, flopping onto my bed and grabbing her phone. I turned back to my laptop, trying to focus on a project.

About 45 minutes later, something felt… off.

“Y/N,” KK said from the bed, her voice slow and slightly slurred. “Do you think pizza tastes better when it’s a triangle or a square?”

I turned in my chair, raising an eyebrow. “Uh, triangle, I guess?”

KK nodded sagely. “Yeah, that makes sense. But, like, what about circles? Nobody talks about circle pizza!”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, walking over to her. KK was sprawled out, her cheeks flushed and a lazy grin on her face.

“I dunno,” she said, giggling. “Everything’s just… funny. Like, your face is so pretty. And your hair! Did you know it’s all shiny? Like, the good shiny. Like, shiny-shiny.”

I frowned. “KK, are you okay?”

She grinned up at me, her eyes slightly glassy. “I’m great! Hey, can we get snacks? I’m so hungry.”

“What did you eat?” I asked suspiciously.

“Just one of your melatonin gummies,” she said, her voice sing-song.

My heart dropped. “KK! Those weren’t melatonin gummies!”

She blinked up at me, her smile faltering. “Huh?”

“They’re medicated for anxiety. They’re… not exactly regular gummies.”

“Ohhhhh.” KK sat up, swaying slightly. “So that’s why I feel all… floaty. This is fun!”

I sighed, trying not to laugh. “KK, you can’t just eat random things without asking.”

She grinned again, reaching for my hand and pulling me to sit beside her. “Y/N?”

“Yes, KK?”

“Can you be my girlfriend?”

I raised an eyebrow. “I already am.”

“Oh. Lucky me!” she said, throwing her arms around me dramatically. “You’re the prettiest girlfriend in the whole wide world.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, you’re definitely out of it.”

She gasped, putting her hands on my cheeks. “No, no, no. I will *definitely* remember this tomorrow! How could I ever forget?”

I pulled out my phone, hitting record. “Oh, you’re definitely going to forget this.”

“I won’t!” she insisted, flopping back onto the bed. “I love you too much to forget. Did you know I love you? Like, *really* love you?”

“I love you too,” I said, trying not to laugh as she hugged a pillow like it was the most comforting thing in the world.

“Good,” she mumbled. “’Cause if you didn’t, I’d have to fight… someone. Who would I fight? Oh! Paige. She’s tall. I’d fight Paige.”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter. “You’re ridiculous.”

She sat up again, her expression serious. “But you love me, right?”

“I do, KK.”

She sighed, flopping back again. “Good. You’re the best. And your hair is shiny. Did I say that already? It’s so shiny.”

I hit stop on my phone, shaking my head. “You’re going to regret all of this tomorrow.”

“Nope!” KK declared. “I’ll remember. I promise.”

The Next Morning

“Good morning, sunshine,” I said, grinning as KK groggily sat up in bed.

She blinked at me, her hair sticking up in every direction. “Morning. Why are you smiling like that?”

I held up my phone, playing the video from the night before.

KK’s eyes widened as she watched herself ramble about shiny hair, snacks, and fighting Paige.

“Oh my God,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I don’t remember any of this.”

“Told you,” I teased. “You were *very* entertaining.”

She peeked out from behind her hands, her cheeks red. “I didn’t say anything embarrassing, did I?”

“Nothing too bad,” I said, laughing. “But you did ask me to be your girlfriend.”

Her face turned even redder. “What did you say?”

“I told you I already am,” I said, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

“Oh. Lucky me,” she mumbled, making us both laugh.

---

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[hiraizyo]

close to my heart, i hold you dearly

synopsis — as you and megan continue the fake relationship during a double date, it becomes harder to deny your feelings for one another.

tags — fake dating trope, non idol au, mutual pining, masc!reader

now playing: tell her how you feel, dream wave.

a/n: yikes srry i took so long with part 2 😓 i tried my best w build up of tension & the pacing, tbh yn and megan are just idiots in love. implied hair theory in love (??) 😛megan going back to natural

++ links: part i. this features yunjin my favorite side character, she’s really just a plot device to me (JOKES) decided to make this extra long since i made y’all wait !!!

“yun, for the last time, i am not going on a double date with you.” groaning out, you glared at the girl before you who had her lips jutted out and puppy eyes on display.

yunjin wailed, throwing her arms up. “yn, please! i need you to do this for me.”

currently, the two of you were in the ginger’s college dormitory. the initial plan was to study together, since finals were coming up in a few weeks, but the american had other plans. from the moment you stepped into her room, she pushed her books aside and brought up her proposal, which she was now trying to convince you to do.

the glare you sent the girl didn’t faze her, nor did it falter her confidence that you would agree. she didn’t give you another chance to respond, talking animatedly.

“its only dinner, and it’s not like i’m setting you up with someone! obviously you’ll bring megan.” she said, watching as you stood up from the couch.

you froze for a second, glancing over your shoulder. shaking the surprise off, you continued the short walk to fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, loosening the bottles cap.

“how do you know about megan?” you questioned, taking a sip from the bottle.

yunjin turned around on the couch to face you, a mischievous smile on her face. “well, sophia mentioned she saw you two at some party.” she drawled out, “where do you think i got the idea for the double date?”

you rolled your eyes at her ‘brilliant’ plan, twisting the lid of the bottle closed. you leaned against the counter, looking at your friend.

“isn’t this your first date with soph?” you asked her, eyebrows knitted together.

yunjin nodded her head, though she had a bashful look on her face. “yes, but— god, you know how nervous i get around her. what if i mess up and say something stupid?”

you laughed at her words, because yeah, it was true that yunjin was a bit of a nervous loser around any pretty girl. you were sure she’d mess up in someway with the filipino girl.

she got up from the couch, walking towards you. “i need you there as, like, a buffer for me, and since you and megan are already together, it would be less awkward!”

you tilted your head to the side and stared at the girl. her eyes were wide with distress, hands put together as if she was praying. it was an amusing sight, and you couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle at her antics.

“how are we friends?”

yunjin sighed exasperatedly and gripped her hands onto your forearms. her hold was tight, and you could tell she was close to losing it if you didn’t say yes.

“please, please,” she begged, “when have i ever asked you to do anything for me?”

you looked at her in disbelief, reminding her of a past experience, “uh— first year? you made me bring gifts to your crush for three weeks straight, and she ended up thinking i had a crush on her!”

yunjin’s lips fell in a straight line at your response, looking off to the side. “okay, fine, i admit that was a bit extreme. but i really like sophia, so pretty, pretty please will you go with us?”

“alright, calm down!” you pulled her arms off you, and laughed lightly at the hope that spread in her eyes. “i’ll talk to megan about it.”

yunjin let out a loud yell, thanking you and pressed her body against yours in a quick hug. you barely had time to reciprocate the hug before she was pulling away. she smiled widely, her pearly whites on display, and ran around the dorm in search of her phone to let sophia know you’d be joining them.

you laughed again at her frantic movements and shuffled over to the couch, “can we get on with studying now?”

“ugh, you are such a nerd.”

megan’s room was quiet, aside from the rolling credits of the movie you’d just finished. it had been over a month since the fake relationship began, and the two of you had grown closer as friends. you’d go out for dates, planned movie nights, had dinner with each others parents.

it was fun to have megan as a friend. she was lively, unashamed to be herself around you. she laughed as loud as she wanted, ranted to you about her newest obsessions, told you stories from her childhood, embarrassing and all. megan brought a side out of you that you didn’t even know existed, and the ongoing idea of being ‘together’ caused many inside jokes and teasing.

what warmed your heart the most was the way she got along with your younger sister. hyein was known to be somewhat of a menace, she also rarely liked the girls you brought home, and she never hid that from you. however, with megan, your sister loved talking to her, wanting to be with you and her anytime the hawaiian girl came over.

that made it difficult to have a moment alone with her, which was why you spent most of your time together at megan’s place, like now.

“oh, i almost forgot!” you gasped out once megan paused the movie.

she looked at you in confusion as you got off the bed and reached for your tote bag, digging inside and pulled out a square, silver box. your back was to megan, so she couldn’t see what was in your hand, her curiosity piquing.

the box had a bow wrapped around the centre, it delicately resting in your hands as you plopped back on the bed, crossing your legs underneath you and glanced at her with a small smile. megan moved to sit opposite you, her gaze filled with interest, but also had a softness to it, like it always did when she looked at you.

“for you.” you said, lightly.

megan took the box from you, her hands brushing against yours tenderly, causing your heart to stutter from the brief contact. it was a foreign feeling to you, yet you brushed it off in the moment.

she frowned as you watched her slowly undo the bow. megan didn’t say anything while she took the top lid off, shrieking once she noticed the shining metal in the light, taking a pair of earrings out and holding it in her palm.

“yn…” she breathlessly said, eyes connecting with yours. “these are so beautiful.”

you shrugged nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t a big deal. then, you wiggled your eyebrows teasingly, “happy fake anniversary.”

megan burst out in giggles at your words and leaped forward to wrap her arms around your neck, the earrings being clutched tightly in her hand. there was a bit of force as you were pushed back, leaning on yours arms while you supported yours and megan’s weight.

“oh my god, you dork!” she muttered against your ear, “i can’t believe you would get me this for a fake anniversary.”

you reached up to caress the back of her head, smiling to yourself, chest filling with comfort. as nice as it was to see the girl so happy, you regretfully let out, “eh, that’s not the only reason…”

megan leaned back, her arms falling beside her and once again looking confused. you shyly placed your hand on the side of your neck, avoiding her gaze.

“yunjin wants us to go on a double date.” you explained, sucking in a breath. “with her and sophia.”

“oh,” megan paused, looking at the earrings in her palm, deep in thought. she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little sad over the gift having an ulterior motive. “so, this is bribery then?”

“well, no.” you took one earring from her and brought it up to megan’s earlobe, testing how it would look on her. “i also wanted to get you something nice.”

megan tried to ignore the feeling of your skin brushing against her jaw, your touch like a burn. while you peered over how the earring suited her, megan’s eyes were watching you, silently thinking that you looked stunning in the lighting of her room, yet she forced herself to break her gaze once you placed the earring back in her palm.

“thank you, yn. when’s the date?” she questioned, searching for the box in her messy sheets.

“next friday.” you replied, though you hadn’t noticed the slight change in her attitude as you tucked some hair behind megan’s ear, her movements pausing. “guess we’re going to have to pretend again.”

megan chortled, though it was strained. she pushed aside her feelings, settling the heavy sensation deep in her heart. she put the earrings back in the box as she bit down on her lower lip.

“we did do a pretty good job at it last time.” the ginger commented, placing the lid over the box and handed it to you so that you could put it on her nightstand.

“we did.” you agreed, leaning back against the headboard.

your mind began to fade away from the present moment, thinking back to the party; being with megan, your close proximity, her body against yours, her hands tucked under your shirt, having her against the wall, the heat you felt, kissing her.

“should we watch another movie?” you asked, snapping yourself out of a daze.

megan shook her head, “hm, no. i’m feeling a little tired.” she lied, wanting to close her eyes and forget this weird disappointment she felt.

you reached for the laptop and set it on the floor, then moved down until you were lying flat on the bed, hand wrapping around megan’s wrist and gently tugged her towards you. megan didn’t say anything, allowing you to pull her against your chest, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“then lets sleep.” you told her, shutting your eyes closed.

though she was unsettled by the bribery tactic, megan couldn’t help but find comfort in your hold. megan’s breath hitched in her throat. it wouldn’t be the first time you’d lay like this, having to keep up the charade of dating around her friends and your sister. there were many moments where she felt this feeling, each one more deeper than the last.

(the first time she felt it, it was during a saturday night as you settled in your couch together for a series binge watching of squid game with your sister, hyein. megan still remember how her heart stopped when she felt your hand drop below her waist, resting on her hips, her skin warm against yours. it made her dizzy, bashful, yet it seemed as if it was second nature to you.

the second time she felt it was while you were over at lara’s place. it was a hot, summer evening, the heat having tired everyone out, and you’d fallen asleep against megan. she freaked, wondering how to move you so you’d be more comfortable, until you pulled her towards you, your hold tight, and her heart raced from the way you unknowingly reached for her. she had no choice but to calm her racing heart and try to sleep with out.

the third time she felt it, surprisingly was not in your arms. instead, it was during a moment of heavy sickness for her. you’d come over, bearing with some warm soup and orchids, her favorite, and— wait, she didn’t remember telling you that. megan didn’t question it though, and despite her attempts of keeping you away, as she didn’t want you getting sick too, you stayed, until she was better, until she was feeling like herself.

later that day, megan would find out you’d actually asked lara what her preference for flowers were.

she saw it — you cared for her.)

but now, in this moment, as your fingers lazily rubbed circles in her hair, how perfectly she fit in your arms, megan felt her heart constrict in her chest.

the hawaiian knew, then and there, this wasn’t what one was supposed to experience during a fake relationship. she wondered, did you feel that too? did you also have these brief, fleeting moments of wanting more?

megan couldn’t remember the last time she felt this way, but she hoped — prayed — you’d be there to catch her.

the dim lighting of the restaurant created a warm glow, smooth jazz music playing. the place yunjin told you to meet at was far from classy, yet it wasn’t so casual either. it was more in between, even to give sophia a good impression of her.

the waiter guided you and megan towards a booth where you caught sight of your college friend, sophia sitting beside her, deep in conversation and talking animatedly.

it was yunjin who noticed you first, the shadow of the waiter casting over the table caused her to look up. he nodded his head curtly to you, walking off to the front desk of the restaurant, while you and yunjin shared a brief embrace, sending a smile towards the filipino. megan greeted them both with a graceful hello, sliding into the booth and you followed behind her, sitting close enough that your thighs touched.

yunjin leaned back, chuckling smoothly. “finally, you’re here! i was beginning to think you wouldn’t show anymore.”

“its true, she was all fidgety and antsy.” sophia commented, looking over at yunjin with deep admiration. “it was kind of cute.”

yunjin’s cheeks flushed a deep red from the girl’s words, and you smirked at the way she practically melted once sophia reached behind her and scratched her nails on yunjin’s neck.

god, that girl was hopeless.

“we would’ve been here sooner, but someone—” you glanced at megan purposely, voice hard for a second. “—took forever to drive here.”

megan tutted, placing a hand over her chest in mock offense. “you judge my driving too harshly.”

“i almost died — twice!” you screeched out, eyes wide in bewilderment, yet a smile tugged at your lips. “i’m taking us home tonight.”

your tone left no room for debate, but megan didn’t mind; she’d gladly be your passenger princess any day. the girl rolled her eyes playfully, and tugged on the knot of the tie that loosely and lowly hung around your neck.

“fine,” she huffed. “no complaints here.”

you grasped onto her hand that held onto the knot and lugged it away, scowling in a joking manner, pretending to be annoyed that she had messed it up. megan flipped your hands around so that she now grasped yours and pulled it over her shoulder, your arm now resting around it.

megan convinced herself was doing this for show. after all, both yunjin and sophia believed you were really together — you needed to play the part.

yet, she missed the way sophia glanced at you two, a hint of joy in her eyes at seeing her friend happy, especially since sophia knew how heartbroken megan was over her ex girlfriend. she could sense it was natural the way you and megan acted, you were simply drawn to one another.

sophia knew megan was feeling more like her old self, the megan before the break-up, before she had first met her ex.

“i like the new look.” the filipino voiced, leaning forward as she looked at megan.

the girl in question glanced down at her hair that flew over her shoulders, “yeah?” she laughed, smiling widely. “i said i’d go back to black.”

“it really does suit you, meg.” yunjin agreed, offering a shy smile. “but i’m a little sad we aren’t twinning anymore.” she touched her own ginger hair, looking down at it.

megan smiled even more, till her eyes turned into crescents. it was a sight to behold, this bright energy and glow that radiated from her, and you felt your own smile grow from her happiness alone.

“maybe dye your hair and we’d match again.” megan shrugged, offering a teasing look to the american.

yunjin looked in genuine thought as she contemplated the idea. sophia noticed and pouted, her glossy lips shining in the light of the restaurant.

“aw no, i quite like ginger yun.” she prodded.

you couldn’t help but cackle as your friend stumbled over her words, stuttering out a barely coherent sentence. megan, who was much more discreet than you, stifled a laugh as well.

yunjin looked down at sophia, her eyes shining with love, completely her mercy. “oh… s-sure! anything you like, i’ll be.”

sophia found the american’s behavior endearing, smirking to herself, as if she knew of the power she held. she then simply shook her head, though she smiled adoringly, and began a conversation with megan off to side.

you leaned forward across the table. yunjin wasn’t that far away, so your arm still hung partially over megan’s shoulder while the distance between you and the ginger became less.

you squinted at her, “jesus chris, get a fucking grip, dude.”

yunjin groaned internally, her whole body felt flushed. she was way too nervous for this, her heart thumping erratically.

“i’m trying,” yunjin hissed. “this is exactly why you’re here.” she reminded you, quickly taking a much needed sip of water.

you were about to respond when a waiter walked over, inquiring if you were ready to order. you leaned away from yunjin, who stared at you warningly, drawing your arm off megan’s shoulder and opened the menu, flipping through the pages until you all decided on what to eat for the night.

conversation flowed between the four of you easily while you waited for your food, exchanging laughs and talking about many different topics. at times, you and megan found yourselves wrapped in one another’s words, talking amongst each other alone, as if yunjin and sophia were nonexistent.

the dinner came to an end, plates taken away the only thing left behind was either half empty or finished glasses of drinks, and the bill already paid. it was when you were walking out the restaurant doors that you thanked yunjin for inviting you and megan out, to which the girl stared at you tauntingly.

“ah, you didn’t think this would be the only thing for tonight, did you?” she asked, the corner of her lip twitched in a sly smirk.

you looked to her with surprise, “you said it was just dinner.” coming to a stop, you quickly glanced at megan, and back to yunjin.

the four of you stood outside in the restaurant’s parking lot, the cool and crisp air a huge contrast to the warmth of inside.

“right,” yunjin nodded. “and a movie.” she divulged, smiling at the happy noise sophia let out, heart leaping once again. “there’s a drive-in movie a couple blocks away.”

you slumped forward at the news. did yunjin really have to spring this on you?

you were very prepared for a dinner date, but now there was a movie involved. and while you were completely fine at first, you wondered how you’d managed to be around megan in this predicament, especially with these weird, new feelings.

dinner was one thing, but to be with megan, in the dark — alone — was something else entirely.

yunjin was looking at you hopefully, silently pleading with you. sophia watched as you stood rooted to your spot, a little confused at your reluctancy. and megan, sweet, attentive megan, nudged your arm, drawing your attention.

“c’mon, it’ll be fun.” she mumbled lowly, looking up at you, lazy smile in place.

you glanced at her, wondering if you’d really want to do this. sophia and yunjin were still watching you, awaiting your response, and then you remembered you had to keep this charade up, because in their eyes, you and megan were girlfriends.

and you were to say no to your girlfriend?

you sighed, but your voice quickly turned into a much cheerier one. “alright, whatever my darling wants, she gets.”

“oh, get a fucking grip.” yunjin snorted, mocking you with the same words you’d used earlier.

she shook her head at you, her and sophia walking towards the car they’d come in. yunjin shouted back at you from where they were parked, telling you to follow behind her and she’d lead you to the drive-in.

while you and megan walked towards your own car, she leaned in close, her chin pressed against your forearm. “darling?”

you could already sense that teasing tone she had, pushing her away slightly. “shut up, i panicked.”

megan snickered at the top of her voice, her laugh echoing in the empty space around you and her. it didn’t take long for her laughter to die down, and she fell into little giggles here and there while you continued to walk, the car still quite a distance away. as you strolled together, like magnets, you and megan were pulled together, until your finger tips brushed against one another. your steps slowed down, walking in a leisurely pace, feeling content in the quiet that settled over you.

yunjin and sophia were a few feet away, and much like you and megan, they too were sitting on the hood of the car. you could see yunjin’s arm draped over sophia’s arm, and you were proud that the girl finally found some confidence in herself amongst nervousness.

on the other hand, you sat with your arm to yourself, not needing to play the part of a fake girlfriend since yunjin and sophia were occupied.

megan had her eyes on you for quite some time, the movie being drowned out. it wasn’t that the movie wasn’t interesting — oh no, no. if anything, the movie was fascinating, yet her attention had been on you.

the twilight glow of the large movie screen illuminated your face. she stared up at you, as if memorizing your features. the sharp curve of your jaw, the length of your eyelashes, the slow blinks of your eyelids as you watched the movie.

it was rather difficult to ignore the feeling of her gaze on you, and after much time, you’d decided to call her out on it.

“i can feel you staring, y’know.” you tilted your head to look at her, raising an eyebrow. she looked away, now facing the large screen.

megan choked on a breath, “i-i wasn’t…! i was just admiring.” she explained, her erratic heart racing beneath her ribcage.

you hummed, leaning closer to her. “is it to your liking?” you questioned. it was now your turn to stare at her side profile, megan’s throat bobbing up and down as she swallowed nervously.

she glanced at you from her peripheral vision, “definitely.” megan concluded, finally turning to face you.

you didn’t realize exactly how close you were until she was looking at you, her honey eyes staring back into your own. your mouth dried, and for a moment you felt feint. megan was within such close reach, if you moved even an inch you’d be skin to skin with her, so close that you could smell the scent of her lip glass, and without realizing it, your eyes had dropped to her lips.

they shone despite it being dark out, courtesy of lighting from the big screen. they were pink, and looked as soft as ever.

it was brief, having your gaze on her lips, and then you looked back into her eyes, your mind feeling fuzzy. megan stared back at you, both of you silent, as if saying any word would shatter the tension that settled over you like a blanket. the stares continued, the eye contact becoming unbearable.

“i think we did another great job.” she murmured, voice shaky, the nerves obvious.

“we’re getting too good at this.” you breathed out, wanting to pull megan close, press her lips against yours.

megan nodded in agreement, as though you both knew this wasn’t pretend at all. the dark haired girl’s eyes fluttered down to your lips, but you’d denied one another the satisfaction, taking a sharp breath in and both turning to focus on the movie.

it was now you who stole glances, megan’s side profile was alluring. she looked stunning with her black hair, your jacket hanging off her shoulders, and— holy shit, when did megan look so good?

you knew megan definitely had admirers, given her beauty, but as you stared at her, longingly, she had never looked more captivating that in this moment.

this was megan in all her glory, and she was utter perfection.

your head spun, suddenly feeling your heart stutter and jump. your stomach felt queasy, being twisted and undone over and over. your mouth dried again. this feeling wasn’t new to you, many times before had you felt this way for other girls, but with megan, this was more — this was a deeper, raw, undeniable connection.

you looked away, attention now on the movie, your mind reeling from the sudden awareness that was no longer fake.

your hand dropped from where it was placed over your knee, so close to megan’s. she felt your hand drop, the thud heard on the hood of the car, and with the weight of her feelings, she unknowingly drew her hand closer to yours.

your hand reached outwards, nervously, you glanced down, watching the way your fingers would inch closer to hers, but you’d pull back, quickly, abruptly, like you’d been struck by lightning.

you swallowed, thinking to yourself. would megan mind if you grabbed her hand? would she pull away, deny you the comfort of her warmth?

it was inevitable, the way you and her found one another even in the dark night.

your fingers reached out, finding hers. silently, you stared ahead, as though the tingles you felt weren’t sending a jolt to your stomach and chest. megan’s fingers intertwined with yours, loosely hanging together, and much like you — even if she didn’t know how you felt — her own body had electricity dancing all over.

neither of you said a word. this quiet, tender moment allowing both of you to relish in the feelings. there was no one around, no one to pretend in front of, no one to fool.

you took this moment for yourselves, selfishly, uncaring, and greedily.

ooohuuhh they didn’t even kiss ??? 🤔 haha… so part 3?

[pukefactory]

Hiii could you do a dandy’s world, dandy x reader ( she/her or gn pronouns) maybe something like him trying to seduce or manipulate the reader into giving him tapes but he ends up actually gaining feelings for them. Smut or sfw whatever you’re comfortable with. (Also this is my first time requesting something so sorry if I’m doing this wrong)

Hey, no problem! Your request was very clear, and I really appreciate that—you asked for it perfectly. This is my first time posting a short story here. I felt that this prompt would fit better in this format, so I hope it’s just as good as my usual headcanons. I found it quite challenging to write a flirty Dandy while keeping him in character, so I had to make a few compromises. Apologies if it’s not exactly what you envisioned, but I still hope you enjoy it!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶ LIQUID ALPINE ︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

✿ Summary: Dandy gets a little flirty with you when you give him a lot of tapes

✿ Character(s): Dandicus Dancifer (Dandy’s World)

✿ Reader pronouns: Not Specified

✿ Genre: Short Story, SFW

✿ Word Count: 578

✿ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

“DING DING”

The elevator opens with a loud beep that echoes across the dark, oppressive room. Before the metal doors have time to slide up, you’re already heading toward them, mindful of your steps but eager to escape the suffocating darkness. From darkness to light, the sharp brightness of the elevator’s fluorescent lights stings your eyes, a harsh contrast to the murkiness you’d been immersed in for what felt like an eternity. Time seemed irrelevant in the dark, especially when you were trying to outrun whatever was lurking behind you.

When your feet click against the cold metal floor of the elevator, the large door slams shut with a loud thud. You breathe a sigh of relief, knowing you’re safe for now as you descend further into the Gardenview facility.

The freezing air in the elevator washes over your clammy, sweaty skin, sending a shiver down your spine from the abrupt temperature change. You hadn’t realized just how hot you’d gotten, how tired and drenched you felt. Hands covered in thick black ichor, you’ve been at this for hours, and only now do you realize how long you’ve been powering through everything. Your mouth feels as dry as a desert, and you silently beg for a drink, anything to quench the thirst.

“Someone looks thirsty,” a voice says from behind you. “Spare me a few tapes, and I’ll hook you up with the coldest soda I have!”

You turn around, greeted by a familiar face—Dandy. You’d been so hazy that you hadn’t even heard him approach. No matter. What mattered was that he had what you desperately needed, and you had what he wanted in return.

Without wasting any time, you walk up and slam a generous amount of tapes onto the table, silently agreeing to his offer.

“Oh, wowie!” Dandy exclaims. “That’s a lot more than usual, friend!”

“Dandy—”

“I know, I know! Let me grab it for ya.” Dandy jumps off his box and reaches under the table, rummaging around for something. A few seconds later, he jumps back onto the box, holding an ice-cold can of soda in his small green hands. “Only the best for my number one customer.”

You don’t fully process what he says, quickly taking the can and drinking as if you hadn’t had anything in ages. The second the sweet, fizzy liquid hits your tongue, you feel instantly better—refreshed and slightly cooler. Pulling the can away from your lips, you exhale deeply in relief.

“Thanks, Dandy. I really owe you one.”

“No worries at all, friend. You just keep giving me those tapes like you always do, and I’ll give you everything you need.” He leans over the table, elbows resting on it as he cups his chin in his hands.

You don’t know what it is, but something about his expression feels different than usual. He’s smiling, yes, but the way his eyes seem half-closed and his posture feels strangely gentle—something you’ve never seen from him before.

Suddenly, the elevator jerks and starts moving again, dinging once more.

“I’ll save my best stock for you, buddy. My very loyal customer… I’ll be seeing you very soon.” Dandy pulls the lever next to him, and the elevator starts descending again.

Before you can fully grasp the meaning of his words, the heavy metal doors open again, and you’re back out there, the soda can still in your hand. His face lingers in your mind for the rest of the night.

[02zgooner]

Thesis + Thirst— p.js

sypnosis: forced to team up with Jay for your commerce class thesis, you expect nothing more than a stressful partnership. but as you work together, an unexpected connection forms, yet, just when you think you’ve figured him out, Jay leaves you questioning—was this all just a project, or is there something more he’s not telling you? genre: romance, smut (pwp), college au rating: 18+ pairing: admirer!p.js x female!reader word count: 3.5k warnings: mentions of sexual acts, obviously, finger!ng, unprotected s3x, penetrati0n, praise k!nk, pussy eating, quickie lol, jay is a shyball (not really tho?) playlist: confessions - flo rida, paul russell ft. enhypen, xtc - che ecru, bonnie and clyde - dean, right here - justin bieber ft. drake a/n: my first time writing smut, idk what to feel, i feel lame and idkkkkk, anyways enjoy! not proofread

As you sauntered into the four-walled room, you already knew that business ain't shit, but you also couldn't get a hold of the fact that you chose this course, great. The air in the lecture hall buzzed with anticipation, a mix of dread and indifference rippling through the students as the professor adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. 

The commerce thesis pairings had been a looming shadow all semester, half of the class praying for compatible partners, the other half resigned to their fate. You sat somewhere in the middle, silently willing the professor to get it over with.

“Alright, listen up,” the professor began, his deep voice cutting through the murmur of conversation. “As you all know, this thesis is worth a significant portion of your grade. It’s going to test not just your knowledge, but your ability to collaborate and compromise, qualities you’ll need in the real world.”

The subtle groans that followed didn’t escape him. He sighed, shaking his head. “Let me make it clear, you do not get to pick your partners. This is not a project where you pick who you want. Life doesn’t work that way.”

The unpredictability of it all was the worst part. One by one, he began calling out names, each pairing met with varying levels of reaction. A relieved sigh here, a quiet curse there. You tried to focus, to keep your breathing steady, but every name brought you closer to your own.

“Y/N… and Jay Park.” 

Okay…?

A murmur rippled through the room like a dropped stone in still water. You could feel the weight of eyes on you, curious and envious in equal measure. Jay, the guy everyone either wanted to be or be with. Your chest tightened as you stole a glance at him.

You heard rumors that the guy has the slightest crush on you as they would often catch him stealing glances at you, but too bad, you never spoke to him. Well, sucks it's only a rumor since you fancy him in a way, can't blame yourself though since the man's hot. In a class full of loud personalities, he seemed unfazed, a figure meant to be and to observe from afar. Until the day the professor paired you two for this final thesis project.

The announcement felt like a collision of worlds. You looked over your shoulder toward him, half-expecting a protest or even a slight twitch of disapproval, but his face remained unreadable. The guy leaned back in his chair, tilting it just far enough that it looked like gravity might win the battle, arms crossed over his chest, rings glinting against his knuckles. Jay’s gaze met yours briefly, dispassionately, like he was sizing you up before deciding whether or not you were worth his energy.

Seated in his usual spot at the back, he looked as unaffected as ever. His hand rested on the edge of his desk, tapping idly against the wood. He didn’t meet your gaze. Didn’t react at all, actually—nothing. He sat there like he hadn’t just been paired with the last person on earth you’d expect him to acknowledge, let alone collaborate with.

“Y/N and Jay,” Professor Choi repeated, his eyes scanning the room. “You’ll be focusing on financial risk management—an ambitious topic, but I think you two can handle it.”

You swallowed hard. Ambitious. Right. That wasn’t what concerned you.

As the professor moved on to the next pairing, your mind swirled with questions. What were the odds of being paired with someone like him? Someone so removed from your world that you might as well have been strangers in different galaxies?

When the class ended, you lingered, pretending to pack up your things slower than usual. You wanted to see what he’d do, how he’d approach you—if he’d even bother.

He didn’t rush. In fact, he took his time, slipping his notebook into his bag with an almost exasperating nonchalance. Finally, he stood, his gaze sweeping the room before landing on you.

He walked over, his pace unhurried, his leather boots clicking softly against the floor. Stopping a few feet away, he tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours for the first time.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said simply, his voice low and smooth, before sliding his number toward you on a torn piece of paper. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked out, his silhouette framed by the fading light spilling through the hallway.

You stared at the number in your hand, the neat slant of his handwriting, the lingering scent of his cologne.

What did I just get myself into?

────────────────

The library was quieter than usual that night, the only sounds were the occasional shuffle of pages and the faint hum of the overhead lights. Most students had cleared out hours ago, leaving behind an almost eerie stillness. You sat at one of the long oak tables, your laptop glowing faintly in the dimness, casting a bluish tint over the stack of research books surrounding you.

Jay was late. You had half-expected it, though you couldn’t say why. He had always shown up on time before—never early, never late, always exactly when he needed to. But tonight, the clock ticked past the hour, and you were starting to think he wasn’t coming at all.

After few meet ups for the sake of your grades, you kinda liked being with him. It wasn’t intentional, at least not at first. His attention would drift toward you without warning, drawn by the way you furrowed your brow when you were frustrated, or the way your lips quirked up slightly when you figured something out. It wasn’t dramatic or loud. It was just... you.

You were about to pack up when the sound of boots on the polished floor reached your ears, steady and deliberate. There was no mistaking the measured rhythm of his steps—unhurried, confident, like they belonged to someone who never apologized for being late.

“Didn’t think you’d still be here,” came the low murmur as Jay slid into the chair across from you.

Your eyes flicked up, taking in the way his hair fell across his forehead, messier than usual, as if the night air had decided to toy with it. The leather jacket, draped carelessly over his shoulders, seemed almost at odds with the sterile atmosphere of the library. In one hand, he carried nothing but a small notebook and a pen—the bare essentials, as always.

“Where else would I be?” you replied, trying to mask the mix of irritation and curiosity simmering in your chest.

A faint smirk tugged at his lips, a fleeting expression that disappeared almost as quickly as it came. “Fair point.”

The nonchalance in his movements was maddening. Jay leaned back in his chair, letting his head tilt slightly as his eyes wandered to the high ceilings. The faint light overhead caught on his earrings, making them glint like stars in an otherwise muted sky.

“You didn’t bring much,” you noted, nodding toward the nearly empty space in front of him.

A small notebook was held up in response, the ink stains on its cover barely visible in the dim light. “This is all I need,” he remarked, the weight in his voice giving the words a strange kind of finality.

You sighed, tapping your pen against the edge of your laptop. “You know this isn’t a solo project, right?”

The smirk returned, this time staying a fraction longer. “Relax. I’ve already done some research. I’ll write out the points.”

“Really?” Your eyebrow arched in doubt, though a part of you was curious enough to wait.

Jay didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he opened the notebook and began writing, his pen moving across the page in quick, fluid strokes. The silence of the library amplified the sound of the pen’s scratching, a steady rhythm that contrasted with his usual languid demeanor.

The way he wrote was deliberate, almost meticulous, like the notebook held something far more important than the barebones of a thesis project. You watched the curve of his hand as it moved, the glint of his rings catching the light, and realized how easily he seemed to own every detail of his presence.

“Do you always stare this much?” The question came casually, his focus still on the page.

Your cheeks flushed as you looked away, pretending to scroll through an article. “I wasn’t staring.”

A soft chuckle broke the silence, low and unhurried. “Sure.”

For a while, the only sounds were the hum of your laptop and the faint scratching of his pen. But eventually, you noticed that his attention had shifted. You noticed his gaze drifting to your lips, lingering there for a moment before meeting your eyes. 

There was a new intensity in his expression, something that made your heart flutter in your chest. "What?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jay leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "Nothing," he murmured, but the way he said it made it clear that it was far from nothing. His hand reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, a featherlight touch that sent shivers down your spine.

You swallowed hard, your eyes flicking down to his lips for a brief moment before meeting his gaze again. The air between you felt charged, electric, like the space between a lightning strike and thunder. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, the sound drowning out everything else.

Jay's hand made its way and slid down to your chin, his thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip. "What are you doing?" you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet of the library. But even as you asked the question, you found yourself leaning into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

"I don't know," Jay murmured, his voice low and rough. "But I can't stop myself."

Your breath hitched as his fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head back. His thumb traced the line of your jaw, the curve of your neck, sending shivers down your spine with each touch. You could feel the heat of his body so close to yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you.

"Jay," you breathed, your eyes opening to meet his. There was a hunger in his gaze, a raw need that made your stomach flip. You knew you should stop this, that you should push him away and put some distance between you. But you couldn't seem to find the will to do it.

Your voice came out as a breathy whisper, barely audible in the stillness of the library. Jay's eyes darkened at the sound, his hand cupping your cheek with a gentleness that belied the intensity of his gaze.

"I know," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a featherlight touch. “I can't help it. Do you think it's been easy for me watching you for god knows how long?”

He trailed off, his eyes flickering down to your mouth again. Your lips parted slightly, your breath hitching in your throat. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the way his pulse throbbed in his neck. Every nerve ending in your body was alive, aching for his touch.

"Jay," you breathed again, his name a plea and a warning all at once. But even as you said it, you found yourself leaning closer, your eyes fluttering closed in anticipation.

You can’t help but to deliver yourself to him, it was mutual.

The anticipation was palpable, a tangible thing hanging in the air between you. Jay's hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your lips, and for a moment, you were sure he was going to kiss you.

But he didn't. Instead, he paused, his eyes searching yours as if seeking permission, confirmation. His thumb traced the line of your jaw, the curve of your cheek, a gentle touch that belied the urgency in his gaze.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered, his voice rough with barely contained desire. "Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you don't..." He let the sentence hang in the air, the unspoken promise hanging heavy between you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. 

“I won't be able to stop myself, doll.” 

And with that, Jay's lips crashed into yours, the force of his kiss sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His mouth moved with a hunger that matched your own, his tongue delving deep, tasting, exploring. One hand remained tangled in your hair, holding you in place, while the other slid down your back, pressing you closer to him.

“Go ahead then, Jay.”

You moaned into his mouth, your hands fisting in his shirt, anchoring yourself to him. The kiss was everything you'd imagined and more  intense, passionate, a little bit desperate. It was like he was trying to devour you, to consume you whole.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathing hard, your lips swollen and tingling. Jay's eyes were dark, his pupils dilated, a sign of his arousal. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his voice rough. "You have no idea how many nights I've laid awake, thinking about you, wanting you…"

"to do that," he finished, his eyes never leaving yours. His hand slid down to your hip, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, pulling you closer. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against you, evidence of his desire.

"You make me weak," he growled, his lips brushing against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. "The way you look at me, the way you taste... I can't get enough."

His hands roamed your body, mapping out every curve, every dip, as if he was trying to commit you to memory. Your own hands were not idle, sliding under his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his chest, the taut muscles of his stomach.

"You're crazy." you gasped, arching into his touch. 

A low groan rumbled in his chest, his hips pressing against yours, seeking friction. His hands slid under your shirt, his fingers splaying across your back, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. Your nipples hardened at the touch, straining against the fabric of your bra. Jay's lips found your pulse point, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.

"I want you," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your neck. "I want to feel every inch of you, taste every part of you."

His hands slid up your ribcage, his thumbs brushing the sides of your breasts, teasing you, driving you wild with desire. You whimpered, your hips grinding against his, seeking relief from the ache between your legs.

"Please, Jay," you begged, your voice breathy with need. "If you do, do it then."

With a low growl, Jay pushed you back against the table, his body covering yours. His hands made quick work of your shirt, pushing it up and off, tossing it aside carelessly. Your bra followed soon after, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze. Jay's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"You're so fucking beautiful, baby" he rasped, his hands cupping your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples. You gasped at the touch, your back arching off the table, pushing your breasts further into his hands.

Jay leaned down, his mouth replacing his hands, his tongue swirling around your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud. You cried out, your hands tangling in his hair, holding him to you. His hands slid down your body, popping the button on your jeans, sliding the zipper down.

"Tell me you want this," he demanded, his fingers dipping inside your panties, brushing against your wet heat. He didn't waste any time, his mouth descending on your pussy, his tongue delving deep, tasting you, exploring you. You gasped at the sudden contact, your hands fisting in his hair, holding him to you.

Jay's tongue moved with expert precision, flicking over your clit, circling it, sucking it, driving you wild with pleasure. He slid two fingers inside you, curling them, stroking that sweet spot that made your toes curl.

"Jay, fuck," you panted, your hips bucking against his face, riding his tongue. "I'm gonna come again. Don't stop, please don't stop."

He doubled his efforts, his tongue and fingers moving faster, harder, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body tensed, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps, and then you were coming again, your pussy pulsing around his fingers, your juices coating his tongue. Jay licked and sucked, prolonging your orgasm, until you were a quivering mess beneath him. Only then did he pull back, his lips glistening with your juices, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"I could do this all day," he said, his voice low and husky. "But we don't have much time, thesis is waiting right?" he chuckled, enjoying every moment of the filthiness you two made.

He stood up, unbuckling his belt, popping the button on his jeans, and pushing them down along with his boxers. His cock sprang free, hard and thick and ready. You couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight, remembering the taste of him.

Jay chuckled at your reaction, his hand wrapping around his shaft, stroking himself. "Ready baby?" he asked, his voice a low purr.

"Want it right here on this table?"

"Yes"

Oh my god, he is sex himself.

Jay didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed your hips, pulling you to the edge of the table, your legs wrapping around his waist. The head of his cock nudged at your entrance, and you both groaned at the contact.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he grunted, his hips snapping forward, burying himself deep inside you. You cried out at the sudden intrusion, your nails digging into his shoulders, your inner muscles clenching around him.

"God, you feel so good," he groaned, his hips starting to move, thrusting in and out of you at a frantic pace. "I'm not gonna last long, baby. too fucking good."

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you onto him with each thrust, his pubic bone grinding against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through you. You could feel another orgasm building, your body tightening, your breath coming in short gasps.

His words, combined with the feel of him inside you, sent you over the edge. You cried out, your body convulsing, your pussy clenching around him as you came. Jay followed you over, his cock pulsing, spilling his hot seed deep inside you with a low groan.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing hard, your bodies slick with sweat. "Fuck, baby," he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "I could get used to this."

──────────────────

The campus buzzed with nervous energy as students crowded around the bulletin board, jostling for a glimpse of the freshly posted thesis grades. The air was thick with tension, hushed whispers mixing with occasional groans or cheers. You stood on the outskirts of the chaos, your heart hammering in your chest as you debated whether to step closer.

Jay was already there, effortlessly cutting through the crowd with his usual quiet confidence. He didn’t seem fazed by the elbows brushing past him or the frantic murmurs swirling around. He stopped in front of the board, scanning the list with a slow, deliberate gaze.

You watched from a distance, your palms clammy as you clutched your bag strap. For a moment, you considered walking away, pretending you didn’t care. But before you could move, Jay turned, his dark eyes meeting yours across the room.

A smirk curled at the corner of his mouth as he made his way back toward you, his pace unhurried. The casual swing of his leather jacket over his shoulder somehow made him stand out even more in the bustling hallway.

“Well?” you asked, your voice coming out sharper than intended.

Jay stopped in front of you, his smirk deepening as he pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. He handed it to you without a word, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment.

You unfolded the paper with trembling hands, your eyes scanning the grade at the top. There it was: 97%

Your breath caught. “We—”

“Got the highest,” Jay finished for you, his tone casual, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

A rush of disbelief and relief flooded through you, your chest tightening as you stared at the grade again. “ I can't believe it.”

Jay chuckled softly, leaning against the wall beside you. “Why not? We worked for it.”

You turned to him, searching for any trace of sarcasm, but his expression was uncharacteristically sincere. There was no detached nonchalance—just quiet confidence and something else you couldn’t quite name.

“Guess we make a good team,” you muttered, trying to play it cool despite the warmth spreading through your chest.

Jay’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, the teasing smirk flickering on his lips. “Yeah, we do.”

Before you could respond, he grabbed your hands softly and started walking away, his other hand shoved into his pockets. He paused after a few steps, glancing back at you over his shoulder.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” he said, his smirk returning. “You still owe me coffee for carrying the presentation.”

You blinked, a laugh slipping past your lips despite yourself. “I carried you through the research, Park.”

“I carried you on top of the table-”

This man’s mouth, man.

With that, as long as he's your pair, thesis ain't so bad after all.

[dream-sans-mogai]

This will probably get looks from performative and ultimately harmful non-transfems despite my being transfem but-

Some y'alls only interaction with feminist history and theories, radical feminism regardless of its intersectionality and really any feminism deeper and louder and meaner than blatant choice feminism like the barbie movie and whatever TF taylor swift thinks shes got going on is through your occasional and short interactions with terfs and it shows. You call vagina art terfy and it fucking isnt. Its feminist art. Your brainrot is making you a fucking mra. The fact y'all think talking about the man vs bear situation is about/started/ran by terfs (and encouraged some really questionable other transfems shitting on it despite it clearly just being about women's safety and yes all men, not transphobia.), everything from questioning wether certain groups belong in our community to thinking a word is a slur or having a lesbian icon (I have sources don't test me) or not to not liking a certain band has been called "terf rhetoric". I'm all for us Transmascs talking about how terfs affect us cause they absolutely do and their harm to the transmasc community can not be understated but like.... Y'all are not allowed to call Jack shit terf rhetoric anymore. Like nothing. You don't know what it means, you litterally call transmedicalism and sysmedicalism terf rhetoric. Do you mean exclusionist? Say exclusionist. Terfs are not the end all be all hate group. They have a very specific complex mindset that affects so many people in specific ways. Someone hating Neopronouns is not fucking terf rhetoric. It's nbphobia. Holy fuck. Learn what words mean.

(intersectional trans radfems exist, radical feminism isn't terfs and swerfs and historical radfems would laugh in their faces for their idiocy)

[saymio]

Silent Obsession

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (the front man) x Fem!reader

Summary: your husband was missing, and all you did for days was stay at home crying your eyes out...waiting for your dearest husband to come home. this was until inho had decided to come give you a little visit while you were all alone and vulnerable.

Warning: dead dove: do not eat, noncon, degradation, light bdsm, manipulation, In-ho is obsessed with you, rough sex, mentioned age gap (20 years), cheating (not rlly), there might be more but I'm too lazy to write it.

A/N: not proof read. this takes place during s1. (most/all of the beginning contains junho x reader content)

7.2k Words

...

it was 2015, just a few days ago your boyfriend junho had invited you to meet his family on the day of his brothers birthday. his brother was turning 40 and they were hosting a small party, just a few people... and your boyfriend thought this would be a great time to invite you to meet his mom and brother. he was ecstatic at the thought, he really wanted his family to get to know you since last year he had met yours. and he was really serious about you... but it would be an understatement to say you were nervous. hell, you were scared. you wanted to leave a good impression on his family, this was the man you wanted to marry. if his mom didnt approve of you what could you say? she was wrong? that her opinion didn't matter? these thoughts swarmed your head for hours every day....

junho was driving the two of you from your small shared apartment to his moms place. you were sitting in the passenger seat as you stared out the window of the car, you were shaking... not from the cold but from the anxiousness you were brimming with. your fingers tapped against the interior of the car, your nails making a clicking sound every time they touched the material. "are you cold y/n? I told you itd be cold today..you should've worn a bigger jacket" junho glanced at you for a second before staring back at the road and sighing. he hated when this happened, when youd be so insistent in not 'ruining' your outfit that you wouldn't pay attention to whether you'd be cold or not. this always happens! ..but he always wears a jacket for you. because he knows you'll end up shivering from the cold gusts of wind and he cant stand the thought of you suffering from the freezing temperatures. you let out a small chuckle, it was barely over a whisper but junho heard you loud and clear. "why're you laughing.." he frowned a little, not because he's upset or mad at you but just because you werent taking the situation that seriously. "what if you catch a cold? at least think about me when you dress this way..you know I hate when you're in pain.." the last part of his sentence was soft and quiet, as if he was murmuring to himself..making sure you wouldn't hear him. "stop worrying so much babe...I'm not cold or anything.. just a little jittery, its my first time meeting your family after all." you giggled at his genuine worry for you, he was such a drama queen. making these small actions seem so much more serious then they were..but its something that made you love junho. how kind and protecting he was of the people he cared about. "nervous? you don't have to be nervous y/n...I'm sure they'll love you." junho's right hand made its way to your left hand. holding it tight before giving you a soft gentle smile. his ability to sooth you with just his smile had to be studied, he truly was an angel on earth to you, like he had a halo on his head 24/7. you leaned forward a little and left a quick peck on his cheek, quickly leaning back down to your seat and looking away from him. but at the corner of junhos eyes he could see how red you've gotten...he thought it was adorable. how the two of youve been dating for 2 years but you still got flustered over small kisses. you were so innocent and kind, the exact woman he needed in his life...

but little did junho know, he was right. his family did love you..especially his brother.

you had arrived at his mothers house, .. your nerves were spiking, how should you introduce yourself? what if the cake you made was still raw? what if inho doesn't like his present? these thoughts ran through your head as you two waited for someone to open the door. your finger nails tapping against the box the cake you had made was in. the sound deafening you as you just wanted the damn door to open already. you really just hoped youd make a good impression... after what felt like an eternity the door opened, behind to door revealed the birthday boy himself, Hwang In-ho. junho just shook his hand before you bowed at him slightly before shaking his hand and introducing himself briefly. "happy birthday In-ho, my names y/n" In-ho just nodded coldly at you, if the harsh winds outside didn't freeze you his stares did. he stepped aside, allowing the two of you in. he lead the both of you up the apartment complex stairs, your heels making a loud click sound echo though the staircase with every step you took. after only a bit of walking up stairs you had reached the door to where the party was being hosted.. . . when junho had told you itd be a 'party' you expected a family gathering with like 15 people, but upon arrival you quickly realized..it was truly just him, his brother and mom celebrating inho's birthday today. you were pleasantly surprised, you hated large groups of people..it made you skittish and always super nervous. so just 3 other people being there calmed your nerves down, alot. the apartment was small and cozy, very homey and nice. his mother had made a mini feast with delicious foods and decorated the place with a few balloons and banners. it was a seemingly wholesome sight of a mother doing something nice for her sons special day, it made your heart warm up inside your chest as you took a seat at the table. "hi honey, what's your name?" junho's mother grabbed one of your hands, cupping it with the both of hers. you felt yourself blush and smile, you had barely even been inside yet his mother was being so kind already. her soft gentle voice, and kind soft eyes. it was everything that's junho was. "y/n, what about you miss?" you were trying your best to be as polite as possible, you didn't want to tip her off and cause her to hate you.. but you felt kind of uncomfortable.. inho..he was staring at you alot. and it was like he wasnt trying to hide it, his dark eyes piecing into your soul. as if he were looking for the innocence inside of you... to take it away from you. the entire day just led to you getting more and more uncomfortable. you weren't able to stare into his eyes because you felt if you did he would just jump onto you not giving a shit about his mother and brother being there too. "y/n, what would you say if your favorite thing about junho?" inho spoke, his deep voice sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine.. this entire atmosphere..it was odd. but it was like only you caught onto it. you stared at inho before turning to junho...he was blushing. he tried keeping a stoic face but you could tell he was getting flustered before you even spoke. his ears tinted in a light pink an so was his neck. "ah.. well his kindness..I think its the main reason I fell in love...he's very kind and soft spoken to people. at least until they do something wrong..but either way he's an angel." a gentle smile took over your face, you stared at junho and then at inho to continue your sentence..it was obvious you were head over heels for this man.. "he's just a very likable man." inho smiled at you, not speaking a word but it was like his face said them all for you. but they weren't the words you'd expect a caring older brother to say, it was more like a .. 'wow how nice.' but in a sarcastic tone.. his mother on the other hand.. "aww how sweet! young love, its so beautiful." she clasped her hands together before grabbing your forearm and staring up at you with twinkling eyes, it was like she was already envisioning your wedding and family with junho. "promise me you'll take care of my son, okay?"

it was a little past 10pm by now, everyone had eaten a slice of cake and junho's mother adored it. junho was right, his mom did love you. she was already talking about marriage and how she wouldnt be surprised if you made the wedding cake because the one you had brought today was "just too delicious!" you laughed and giggled at her antics, your face flushed in embarrassment. you turned to look at inho, who was staring at you intensely. your happiness almost instantly vanished as you shuffled in your chair. maybe he was upset you hadn't given him his gift yet...that should do it!! maybe he'd stop once you did. "a- inho, I brought you a gift." his eyes widened and it had seemed like he just heard life changing news, maybe he really was just sulking over a present..it was kind of cute. you grabbed your bag from your feet next to you and shuffled around until you found a yellow box, you pushed it towards inho and smiled. your tried your best to give a genuine, heartfelt smile even though you felt uncomfortable with all his glances and stares. he smiled at you, this time it seemed a little less fake...but still not genuine. he opened the box, it was a watch. a very beautiful one. it was shimmering under the dinning room light, a light white silver with simple but detailed engravings on the band of the watch. it was beautiful and it definitely wasn't the cheapest, you don't remember how much it was exactly since you had bought it the same day junho had told you about his brothers birthday..but you knew it was enough to make you wince at the receipt. "I left the receipt folded under the cloth Incase it isn't to your li-" you were cut off by inhos voice, it was calm, not as cold as it was before..it was rather soothing even.. "no. its perfect." he put the watch on, adjusting it so it fit his wrist perfectly. you felt your lips creep into a wide smile, you were so glad this day was going perfectly. "wow, that's such a pretty watch! it must've costed you a lot." their mother interrupted the two of you, staring at the watch that sat on inhos wrist and then at you. "inho, say thank you! be polite." she hit the back of his head harshly, as if she were scolding a little kid... you laughed at the scene, mothers truly see their children as their babies forever. "no- its okay miss don't wo-" it seemed like today was full of interruptions and cut offs as inho did just it again. "thank you y/n, I appreciate it a lot." his face was blank again, no readable expression was there.. but based off his passed reactions..you felt he was being sincere. . . . "thank you miss, thank you inho." you bowed at the both of them while you stood at the front door with junho, showing your gratitude for their kindness and patience with you and your boyfriend. "of course honey, please come back any time you want." junho's mother grabbed your hand one more time, inho nodded along with her. he wasn't a man of many words but it seemed his scary demeanor had vanished. maybe it was never even there and you were just nervous..either way you were glad you didn't leave the house with a weird feeling about your boyfriends brother. juho's mother then shoo'd the two of you away, telling you it was late and you shouldn't stay up so late at such a young age... you felt happy. a warm feeling sat in your heart and stomach, it was like you had just found your second family.

time skip (5 years)

there you sat in the police station, its been days since youve last seen your husband. you were sobbing into the palm of your hands, the salty liquid dripped onto your long dress as you drained ever drop of water from your body. you were terrified. what happened to him?? where was he?? what had he gotten into? you were devastated to say the least, you explained with a shaky and quaky voice that your husband had just told you he was off to investigate his brothers vanishment and would be back by the night..like always! so when you woke up and he wasn't there you just felt dread. you texted him and texted him all day to no response. when he didn't come back for the second day you reported him missing. you reported this story to the police about 9 times already, everyday since you reported him missing you came to the police station for any clues or help..an obviously everyday they told you the same thing...that they had nothing. the only reason they didn't push you off to the side when you came in was well..because your husband worked for them. he was a police officer under them, it'd feel disrespectful to you and junho if they just told you to give up hope on finding your husband. maybe you'd stop after another week or two..you'd realize whatever fate inho had found was the same junho ended to aswell... and not only that but you were pretty, kind and in obvious distress over your husband. they'd feel like they just kicked a sick puppy in the stomach if they told you to go away. so every day, at 8am you come in. usually in a pretty sundress but your state of mind isn't as pretty. your eye bags were prominent and you seemed to constantly be in a state of dissociation.... "you promise there's nothing? please double check! please..I need my husband back. you don't understand" your words were exasperated and rushed, you wanted answers, your husband, closure, anything! your breaths were getting heavy as you reached your delicate hand to the tissue box on the desk infront of you. you felt yourself breaking down, more and more, every. day. the police officer let out a breathy sigh, he was trying his very best to not tell you off. to tell you to go back to your home and cry there or something. to stop wasting his time every single fucking day.. but he couldn't. and he wouldn't. not when your state was some of the worst he's seen in his years of being an officer. "listen ma'am, there seems to be a dead end a-" you slammed your hand onto the table, one still holding the now damp tissue as you started to cry harder. you shook your head violently, indicating a very obvious no...or in this case obvious denial. "no. there..there isn't a dead end. he's alive and he needs your help!! please..please keep searching i-i'll.." you started to dig into your purse, the same one junho had gifted you for your 5th anniversary not long before this whole ordeal. when you felt what you were looking for you snatched it out your bag, like it was grabbing it, stealing it from your grasp. "h-here..d-dont stop searching please. I'll give you this..p-please.." in between words you started to cry more, tears streaming down your cheeks and dripping off your skin. your head was lowered and you were looking at your lap. you didn't want to stop looking for him. you wouldn't stop until you knew he was safe. "ma'am...you don't have to give me money for doing my job." he slid the stack of money that you had taken from your purse back to you and shook his head in disapproval. "listen.. sigh we're trying our best okay? we arent just laying around doing nothing, he was our coworker and we want to find him as much as you do.." he looked away from your depressing state, you were catching your breath and shaking, your fists were curled into balls. it was clear, even though he was an officer that he didn't want to find junho nearly as much as you did..he didn't think it would even be possible to. "just..take a break. you're overwhelming yourself and it isn't good for you. junho is strong and you know this, so just believe in him and his ability to live..."

the officer opened a drawer that was next to his seat, it was a little pile of candies.. he grabbed a handful and handed you a few. with a shaky hand you took the candies, your eyes were red and puffy. it was painfully obvious that you had just broken down in tears. you didnt want to speak but it was obvious by the way you acted, that all you wanted right now was for your husband to come back into your embrace. "if you want I can step out and let you calm down." the officer stares at you, awaiting the answer that would leave your lips. "no..its okay.. i-...whatever. thank you, I will take a break to calm down and compose myself. please have a good day." you mumbled the first few words, like a scared child who had just gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar and is now making up an excuse. you let out a loud sigh before you stood up from your chair, rubbing your tired, sore eyes before fixing your hair and grabbing your bag. you turned around right as you were in front of the office door, you bowed at the officer to show your gratitude as you proceeded to touch the cold metal handle of the door and creaked it open. with a click of the door closing you were walking away from the room you had just broken down in.

there you were, sitting on the edge of the bed you and your husband shared. it felt cold every time you sunk your body into the soft mattress..cold and empty. you weren't used to this, you were used to your husband coming home from work and giving you a kiss. slipping into the soft blankets together as you worked as heaters for each other's bodies. you didn't like this. you didn't want this. you flopped your upper torso onto the bed, causing it to make a squeaking sound to the sudden pressure. your legs were dangling off the side of the bed as you stared up into the ceiling. the world around you felt hazy, like everything that surrounded your body was just an empty void of nothingness. the world was meaningless without junho. you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier...until they had finally closed shut.

knock... knock... knock you jolted up from your bed, who was here at this time? it's like 2am... you stared at the closed bedroom door, thinking about if it was a good idea to open the doorm. you're a young woman alone at her house at 2am...what if it was a sex trafficker trying to kidnap and rape you!!?? knock... knock... knock the loud but slow knocks echoed throughout the house, the knocks took a 3 second pause inbetween..it was so creepy.. it made your skin crawl.. bu...what if...what if the police have clues about junho and came to talk to you about it they heard of it!! or..what if junho had finally come home..... these thoughts rand through your head, you were scared of what might be behind of that door. but not scared enough to not open it. you slowly got up from your bed, making it squeak under the pressure of your body. your soft slippers made a swooshing sound against the wooden floors as you shuffled your way to the front door... knock... knock.... knock there it was...the knocking. you couldn't help but feel this dry lump from in your throat, but you had to do it...you needed to make sure... if it was some stranger you'd just slam the door on them and go and hide in a closet or something.. your swallowed the lump in your throat and placed your palm on the cold metal of the handle, unlocking it with a small click and turning it clockwise so that it opened the door.. you didn't open it alot, just enough to see who was on the other side. your eyes stared at the dark soulless eyes In front of you, it was a random man. you had no idea why he was here or what he wanted..but he looked very familiar..maybe he was an off duty cop that just wanted to check up on you..? "h-hello..? how can I help you..." your voice was small and quiet, barely above a whisper as you used the door as some kind of shield from the strange man. "yes. you can." you stared up at the man with confused puppy dog eyes, what did that even mean?? you furrowed your eyebrows and squinted your eyes as you stared at him..you were about to close the door on the strange man until something clicked inside of you. you recognized where he was from.. "inho?! w-what? what are you.." your judgmental facial expression quickly changed into one of shook and worry, was he here to see junho? how would you break the news that his brother was now missing too?? you raised your small hand to your mouth, covering it in shock..you didn't even know what to do....what should you say..? your eyes started to water and tear up, you were reminded of the harsh reality junho was in..he was seriously missing and now the person he went missing looking for was In front of you...it seemed like everyone was just against you. mocking the disappearance of your husband. "what...are you doing here? a-are you here for junho..he's.." you let out choked sighs after every other word, taking your hands from your mouth to your entire face. you were a crying mess In front of a man you barely knew, it was so embarrassing. you were so pathetic and sad. everyone's been telling you to just get over it but here you are, sobbing for what felt like the 6th time today. a loud sigh snapped you out of your saddened state,, but...it wasn't a sigh of disapproval or frustration...it was like a sigh of...desire. like he was getting off to the sight your sobbing, scared and fragile body. "you're doing this on purpose, you have to be." you stared up at inho with confusion. you eyebrow was raised, as if asking him what the fuck he meant by that. before you could even mutter a word he pushed you, really harshly. you went flying back into your home, head hitting the hard wood. you felt yourself getting dizzier and dizzier for a few seconds...you felt like you couldn't move, speak or even see anymore...your head was spinning and alarms were ringing from the inside of your head..until you were passed out.

you woke up... you were sitting in the middle of the dining room, it seemed like someone had moved the table and other chairs out the way as it was literally only you. you and the chair you were sitting on. the room was barely lit up, you could only see some of your surroundings due to the singular light that was on. the ligh that bulb was right on top of you..it felt like you were about to get interrogated for murder,,you were terrified. for you wanted to scream, cry and just run away from what was happening. but you couldn't. your ankles were tied onto the legs of the chair. your arms and torso were bounded to the chair itself with a thick rope., it was digging into your skin hard..it hurt. alot.. you wanted to squirm around and get yourself free but you knew you'd just end up knocking the chair down and you'd be stuck in an awkward position..you tried to start screaming but you couldnt, you were confused..it was like your mouth was glued shut.....your eyes darted around the room, looking for anyone, anything to help you. it took you a second for you to put the pieces together but.. once you did you realized.. your mouth was duck taped shut. you didn't know what to do, you were overwhelmed and you just wanted your husband back to you. you closed your eyes shut as warm salty tears fell from your eyes. your eyes just couldn't catch a break, could they? they were tired and sore. even when you werent sleepy it hurt to open and close the..a result of crying for days.. you just wanted to feel happiness again. but clearly that wasn't going to happen soon. was your fate going to be the same as your husbands? were his kidnappers after you to sew your mouth shut?? you didn't want to die..at least not because you got closure.. "you shouldn't cry Infront of me. its a bad idea. I have a thing for little girls that look pretty when they cry." your head jumped forward, looking at the figure that had stepped out the shadows surrounding you.. your eyes widened, remembering that inho had been the one that knocked you over and caused you to black out. the same man that had gone missing 5 years ago, the same man that your brother went missing looking for.. what was he doing here? was he here to kill you? to keep you silent? to assault you? thoughts rand through your head as he took large, slow steps towards you. as if he was mocking your frightened state. he reached his right hand out towards you, your eyes landed on the silver watch he was wearing. it seemed so similar to the one you had gifted all those years ago..but no way he would still be wearing it, right? before you could even process another thought his hand gripped at your hair, pulling your head back and forcing you to literally stare up at him. the roughness of his grip made you wince in pain..he didn't come here with intentions of being nice and if you didn't realize that person you definitely realized that now. you tried to scream and kick your feet, you knew the tape and rope would stop your attempts and make them useless but you still tried. your screams just came out as diluted, muffled noises. the tape had stopped you from making any loud noises... the chair under your only shook a little but it wasn't enough to lighten the grip inho had on your hair. his dark, soulless eyes stared you down. they were like black orbs, nothing behind them. he grinned at you, like he was watching a cartoon and a character had did something funny. he was laughing at you. he thought this was funny. "you look so stupid, you do know that the tape will just silence all your screams, right? or are you too young and dumb to understand that yet." he tilted his head at you and gave you a mockingly confused expression. he was having the time of his fucking life while you were here, scared for your damn life. you glared at him, trying to intimidate him..doing anything to scare him...trying to find the little humanity in him that feels sympathy was clearly never going to happen. so you had to try another approach..even if it wasn't going to work either... and your suspicions were right ..

he just smiled at you, another mockingly fake smile... he released his hand from the grip he had on your hair and pinched your cheeks, just as roughly as he did with your hair. leaving a red mark when he let go... it was like he was treating you like you were a pouting child, stomping your feet because your mom didn't let you buy the comically huge lollipop you really wanted. "youre not scary sweetie." the pet name made you want to throw up in your mouth. he knew well you were his sister in law but here he was, calling you pet names with his disgusting voice. " you know..ive had my eyes on you since i met you...you're just so gorgeous..and delicate." he took a short but slow walk around u and stopped to stand behind you. his cold hands reached to your face and covered your eyes. you couldn't see anything but you knew he was leaned up in your ear...you could feel his hot breath making you unnervingly uncomfortable. "I just wanna ruin you." your breathe hitched in your throat, he was going to rape you. you know it, you had to fight back, you had to. you couldn't let a man that wasn't your husband put his dick inside you. inho took his cold hands away from your face and walked back in front of you. you glanced down at his crotch and...there was a bulge...he was getting off to your scared shape. he truly was an emotionless sadist.. he held up his index finger to your covered lips. "shh. make any noise and I wont think twice about killing you and your husband." your eyes widened as you heard the last part...that meant your husband was alive..and he knew where he was. you nodded slowly, complying with his words. he ripped the piece of tape off your mouth, causing you to let out a yelp in pain. you stared at him with a frightened face, you realized you had just made a loud sound...you didn't want to die you didn't..you didn't want your husband to die! "I said. be quiet." the truth with inho was, he had already killed your husband..at least he thought he did. only a day ago did he shot junho, causing him to fall off the side of the island...he probably drowned and is floating lifeless in the sea right now.. but you didnt need to know that...and it was clear you weren't even aware. your mouth was shut and you tried to silence your heavy rapid breathing....you really did love your husband..he wanted to steal that love from junhos grasp. he leaned down, his face was now perfectly aligned with yours... you wanted to say something, you wanted to scream and cry but if you did he'd kill you...you knew he would... his left hand started to rub your cheek, it was gentle and warm but it just made you hate it even more...his fake kindness. you hated it. his lips connected with yours, at first it seemed like he was trying to be gentle but it was obvious he had quickly gotten bored of it before he got rough. your teeth were clashing with each other as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. exploring every inch of it before he started to nip at your lips...he was aggressive and messy. everything junho wasn't.. this wasn't the kind of kiss you wanted or craved. you felt like your eyes were sewn shut the way you refused to open them, you didn't want to stare at inho. you just wanted this to end..maybe once it did you'd finally have your husband back. after what felt like hours of making out he has finally took his chapped lips off of your soft ones. a string of saliva connected the two of you as he caught his breath. you opened your eyes to stare at him, they were watery..your tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes as you caught your breath. to inho you eyes were like glass marbles...and he wanted to shatter them into pieces. you took deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. if you were calm it wouldn't be as bad. you read this inside your mind over and over and over again. you just prayed he would use you quickly and then leave... "you know, that day..the day where junho has brought you to our mothers house for my birthday.." his eyes wandered away from you, as if he were recalling the day in exact detail, scene by scene...

his eyes snapped back to yours, holding intense eye contact until he continued his sentence... "when I asked you what you loved most about junho you told me you loved his kindness. you said he was a soft person..an angel in your eyes." he crouched down, staring at you with intense eyes. his sharp features were like daggers, stabbing one by one into your heart. "you told me you loved something about him that I lacked. I'm not a kind person. and right now..you probably think I'm the devil instead of an angel like my brother.." he smiled at you, it was a cold, fake smile. if you touched his face right now it'd probably be ice cold.. "thats how I knew someone like you would never willingly be with a man like me.. but it's okay, I'll just force myself onto you." you started to cry, the salty liquid streamed down from your cheeks to your chin. your eyes were red and puffy, you didn't know what to do. you didn't want to be with this man, you didn't want this. inhos left head reached to your face, this time he squeezed the both of your cheeks so that your lips were puckered at him. "got it, princess?" he leaned in to kiss you again, this time he went aggressive right away. forcing his tongue into your mouth, some of your tears dripped onto his mouth. letting him taste the saltiness of your sadness. and it was delicious.

there you sat, he had freed your ankles from the restraints on the chair. nipping and licking at your clit. you hated this, you couldn't stop crying. you felt disgusting, a man that wasn't your husband was licking and eating your pussy out. why would you let this happen? at this point death felt better than breaking your husbands heart. you lets out cries and soft no's as he slurped your juices. you hated that it felt good, you hated that he knew what he was doing. your moans and mewls filled the room, followed with wet sloppy sounds of spit and cum mixed together. he's been eating you out for what felt like hours, you've probably came like 3 times already. you were getting tired..your legs were shaky, trying to close in on themselves but inhos arms kept them wide open for you. "p-please stop. I don't like thi-this...ah...please..let me go already..please.." you were begging with him, your eyes were shaky, your face was flushed and your lips were wet from his aggressive kisses. god. the scene of you begging for him to stop as he abused your clit was one he wanted engraved in his mind forever. he let go of your pussy with a loud pop, your juices and his spit was all over his mouth and chin. he looked like a wild animal that had just eaten his prey alive. with his sleeve he wiped off the liquid on his face. 'ruining' his all black jacket. "you want me to stop but your cum is all over my face and lips. you want me to stop but you keep moaning. just admit you're a slut for me." you close your eyes shut, shaking your head viciously, you don't want him. you don't want this. you just want your husband to be safe. that's all you want... inho scoffs at you, as if you were lying to his face. maybe he truly did believe you wanted this..that you wanted him.. but you knew it wasn't true, you knew that you loved junho and that you werent fighting back back because you just wanted him back.. you'd break down in tears in his arms once he comes home, you'll explain it when he's home. he'd understand..right..? you were lost in your thoughts, but reality snapped you out of them.. 2 long fingers were inside of your core, curling and pumping in and out... it hurt so much. it was nothing like you were used to, slow paced and gentle..no..it was fast and rough. you let out a cry, you were in so much pain it made you want to go insane. the rope that was still tied around your arms and waist dug into your skin, burning you as you struggled under the restraints..trying to find a way out. it felt like inhos was trying to split you in half, the rough skin on his finger pads only made it worse. but ofcoourse it had to feel good, because he knew what he was doing. even if it was messy, even if it was rough, even if you didn't like it..he knew how to make a woman feel good past all the pain. he tilted his head up towards you, his dark almond eyes burned holes into yours. "you gonna cum?" instead of a question, it felt like a demand. demanding you to answer yes, scaring you into saying yes.. but you didn't say yes, you said no. you shook your head and mouthed no to inho, not daring to say it out loud..and it obviously made him upset. he sneered at you before grabbing is free hand and pinching your clit before speeding the pace of his fingers. this was something you've never felt before, the pleasure finally overshadowed the pain and it felt like he had just forced your orgasm out of your body. your cum coated his digits, leaving a slightly milky white color on them.. you were catching your breath, it was hard to breath..the pain, anxiety and fear were catching up to you...you felt your throat slowly closing on you..you felt like you couldn't even breath enough air to supply your lungs are this point.. you were so caught up in your own world that you didn't even realize how he was pressing against the bulge that was begging to be freed from his trousers..he stared at you with bleak eyes, there was nothing behind them...nothing but desire and want..you were scared witless of what he would do to your poor body next. and whatever it was, you didn't want it

the bed was creaking under you, the same bed you and juho slept in everyday... you legs were pressing onto your stomach, the skin rubbing against each other. inho was slamming his cock in and out of you.. touching spots you didn't even know could be reached before this. you felt horrible for feeling so good. but you didn't want this. you were a crying moaning mess. your nails were digging onto his hands, the ones that were pressing you down. you were begging for him to stop, you didn't want this..you felt like you were being forced into this. with the life of your husband on the line.. inho let go of your left thigh and reached to your neck. his freezing hand sending shivers through your body as he started to choke you whilst pounding in and out of you..destroying your gummy insides. he lowered his face to you and scoffed, you looked so pathetic. crying and sobbing acting like you weren't enjoying his fat cock. why wouldn't you just admit you liked it for once? "acting like youre the victim while my cocks deep inside of you. is this all women do? complain about everything..just admit you like it. I wont tell." you felt so degrading. you were getting fucked by a man you barely knew on the bed your missing husband and you slept on every day at somepoint. using his life against you and now he's blaming you? was it really your fault? could you have just turned him away and still gotten junho back? was that an option that you weren't told about? you started crying, your weak arms pushing against his chest with no avail. you just wanted it to stop, you were in pain and now you're being told its your fault you're in this situation. you can never win. you began to sob louder, begging him to let you go, louder and louder until you were wailing like a stupid baby. your hand grasped at the tight grip he had on your neck, then to his chest to push him away again. "shut up." he snarled before taking off his hand from your neck, he had left a bruise from how hard he was gripping...with the same hand he harshly slapped you. shutting your cries up quickly. a red spot started to quickly form, your skin was now irritated in what felt like every place on your body.. "you're such a slut. taking the dick of a man 20 years older than you on the very bed your husband would sleep on. do you not feel ashamed? hmm?" he hummed at you, waiting for your reply. but you didn't even mutter a word, nothing. you decided you'll just take it with no noise, if you stay quiet up maybe it'll end faster?.. it should...shouldn't it..you were trying to comfort yourself in your head.. "you can keep trying to tell yourself otherwise but youre nothing but a dirty cheater. taking dick like a good girl. this probably isn't the first time youve done this huh?" he laughed at your now soulless face, he was right when he said he wanted to ruin you. he was doing that, and it got worse with every second that passed. "ffuck I'm close. you better cum or else I'll js' keep on using you until you do." you started to tear up, your clit twitching and your hole began to clench around his cock. you felt good, but terrible at the same time..you doubted he was cumming because he thought you felt good though, it was a factor but it was probably your shape that made him so horny. you were sad, in pain...tired... he got off to it so bad. you let out quiet pants and moans, indicating to inho that you were close too. he started to get sloppy, his pace getting even faster as the wet slapping sound of skin filled your ears to the brim. you felt your clit pulsating, begging for release...once you came you'd be free..you'd be...you'd be....be.. "a-aa.. fuck fuck fuckfck fuck! ouOUGH~" you let out loud, filthy moans. probably for the first time that night, instead of your cries it was your moans and whimpers that the room was now brimming with. inho loved the sound of your noises, your cries, moans, everything. God it made him so horny...once he felt you cum all over his cock he let his go through as well. fucking his orgasm into you deeper, and deeper with a loud groan..

he kept moving slowly, fucking you through your orgasm as your breathes calmed down.. "I want to ruin every inch of kindness and hope for humanity you have left in you. you're so perfect. perfect to corrupt.." his hand raised to your cheek and started to rub it 'lovingly'. you had a feeling he wasn't going to let you go like he had told you he would.

...

Another not: I FINALLY FINISHED YAY took me like all day again but ....yay!! I hope u guys liked it. I'm pretty proud of it but idk if its ooc or not... but SMASH THE LIKE BUTTON N HIT SUBSCRIBE 4 MORE..!!!!!!!

TAGLIST: @pollys-doublelife @gongyoosgf

[pucksandpower]

Drunk in Love

Max Verstappen x fiancée!Reader

Summary: in which Max gets drunk, forgets that the two of you are literally engaged, confesses his love for you, and then gets reminded that his ring is on your finger … in that order

Based on this request

The lights from Jimmy’z spill out onto the sidewalk, a dizzying kaleidoscope of reds, purples, and blues. You stand just outside, arms crossed, as your phone buzzes for the third time in five minutes. It’s Daniel this time.

“Hey,” he says, voice just slightly too cheerful to be innocent. “So, uh, Max is-”

“I’m already here.”

“Oh, perfect. He’s …” Daniel hesitates, and you can practically see him scratching the back of his neck. “He’s just a little … spirited tonight.”

Spirited. That’s one way to put it.

You hang up before he can add anything else and glance toward the club entrance. Max stumbles out a few seconds later, propped up by Lando, who looks like he’s trying not to laugh. Max’s head lolls to the side, and when he spots you, his entire face lights up like you’ve just walked out of a movie.

“Hey!” He yells, voice loud enough to make a couple passing tourists glance over. “It’s you!”

You sigh, stepping forward to take him off Lando’s hands. “Thanks,” you mutter to the younger driver, who just grins.

“Good luck,” Lando says, clapping you on the shoulder before disappearing back into the club.

Max leans heavily on you, his arm slung over your shoulders. “You came for me,” he says, slurring slightly. “You’re like an angel. My angel.”

“Uh-huh,” you deadpan, guiding him toward the car. “Let’s get you home, Max.”

He stops abruptly, digging his heels into the pavement. “No, wait.”

You look up at him, exasperated. “What?”

“I need to tell you something.”

“Can it wait until we’re in the car?”

“No!” He insists, voice rising. “It’s important.”

You glance around, feeling the curious stares of a few people lingering nearby. “Okay, fine. What is it?”

Max wobbles slightly, gripping your arm like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His eyes are glassy but serious as he looks at you. “I’m in love with you.”

You blink. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeats, louder this time. Then, almost conspiratorially, he leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Like, really love you. You’re … you’re perfect.”

“Max …” You hesitate, unsure how to respond.

“No, listen!” He says, pulling back to look at you. “You don’t understand. I’ve been in love with you for … forever. But I didn’t know how to say it, and now it’s too late, because you probably think I’m some idiot who-”

“Max,” you interrupt, placing a hand on his chest to steady him. “We’re engaged.”

His brow furrows. “What?”

“We’re engaged,” you repeat, holding up your left hand where the ring glints under the streetlights.

Max stares at it like he’s never seen it before. “No way.”

“Yes, way.”

His face splits into a grin so wide it’s almost childlike. “No. Way.”

“Yes, Max. We’re literally engaged. Have been for months.”

He takes your hand in his, squinting at the ring. “Holy shit. That’s a nice ring.”

You snort despite yourself. “You picked it.”

“I did?” He looks genuinely astonished.

“Yes, you did. And you cried when I said yes, remember?”

“I cried?”

“Like a baby.”

He lets out a delighted laugh, the kind that starts in his chest and bubbles all the way up. “I’m a genius,” he declares, throwing his arms in the air. “I got you to say yes!”

“Yes, Maxie. You did.”

He pulls you into a hug, nearly knocking you off balance. “I’m so lucky,” he mumbles into your hair. “Like, stupid lucky.”

“You’re also stupid drunk,” you point out, but there’s no bite to your words.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes wide and earnest. “Do you love me?”

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “Of course I love you, you idiot.”

He beams at you, his happiness so pure it’s almost contagious. “Good. That’s good. Because I’m going to marry you.”

“Yes, Max. You are.”

“And I’m never going to mess it up.”

“Not if you keep calling me to pick you up from clubs at two in the morning.”

He looks horrified. “Wait, did I call you?”

“No,” you admit, “Daniel did.”

Max groans, burying his face in his hands. “That traitor.”

“Come on,” you say, tugging him toward the car. “Let’s get you home before you pass out on the sidewalk.”

As you help him into the passenger seat, he grabs your hand again, his grip surprisingly firm. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he says, his voice softer now.

“I know,” you reply, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

He closes his eyes, a contented smile playing on his lips. “I’m going to marry the hell out of you,” he murmurs as you buckle him in.

You shake your head, climbing into the driver’s seat. “You already are.”

And as you pull away from the curb, he’s still grinning like he’s just won the championship all over again.

[screampied]

how jjk men react to you being quiet in bed and trying to hide your moans

ps: love your writing and I don't know if you've done this or not but respond when you can happy new year🎊

❛ JUST A TEASE! ❜

geto, sukuna, gojo, toji, nanami. jjk men dealing with a quiet s/o who hides their moans.

warnings. fem!reader, lots of praise, dirty talk, cunnilingus, hair pulling, overstim, hiding your moans, size kink, 18+

wc. 2.5k

an. happy new year !!!! and thank yew smmm.

★ NANAMI KENTO.

“everything okay?” he’d hum, and nanami’s got you riding him, two soft grasped hands latch onto your waist as you’re slowly lurching and bucking your hips against him. nanami ghosts a few fingers down your waist.

a sly teasing expression with the way he’s leaned back, his eyes trail from up to down as he sees your cute expressions. “you’re awfully quiet today, princess.”

and you were very much quiet, he raised his brows at the way you hide yourself into his neck, trying to deflect the situation by softly nibbling on his skin and he smiles to himself. 

“is the pretty baby shy to make noise?” he coos, his words were warm—full of tenderness with a tad of playfulness. you let off a soft gasp from the way he lightly grips a bit more on both sides of your waist. nanami makes you start to move your hips, bounce against him, your skin ricocheting from each thrust and you’re so full, pumped full of his girth you can’t even think clearly. “you don’t gotta hide from me. ‘s just me, hon. your moans are adorable, y’know?”

you pathetically nod, feeling yourself throb from not only his sloppy hits against you—but his words, the way he was so soft and tender with his praises. 

“i-i know,” you muttered, your arms went around him and he softly chortles, brushing his thumbs against your hips—creating a pattern-like trace of circles against your skin, giving your sweet curves all types of attention and touch. “i just don’t wanna be so loud. it’s…embarrassing.”

“embarrassing?” he repeats, and he’s still leaned back. nanami’s so pretty, blond hair slightly ruffled, a few beads of sweat run down the sides of his head as if they were in a competitive race with each other. 

he’s balls deep to where you slip out a moan from feeling his tip kiss against that spot that always gets you weak. “oh, don’t say that,” he happily sighs, there was a sparse glimpse of sparkle in his eye and he smiles. nanami lightly tilts your chin up to bring a kiss towards your lips. “you could never be embarrassing, my love. if anything, your sweet moans and whimpers are quite adorable. the way only i can make you sound like that makes me feel a certain type of way.”

“really?” you’d moan, squeezing your glossed lips together. 

“really, princess.” he reassures you, your entrance felt as if it was nearly at its limit, nanami’s cock stretched and stretched against you as you felt him throb—giving him a subtle glance. you could spot his sharp jawline, and the perfect way of how it clenched and tightened. you made him so aroused, for a brief moment he stared away before pulling you towards his chest. 

you choke out a whimper, pressure building up inside of you, how filthy it was at the way his tip french-kissed your g-spot, a sloppy smooch with the head of it — you’re spasming, you’re stupid. 

“k-kento, ‘m gonna cum...” you’d gasp.

“can’t hear you pretty girl,” he groans, peppering a few kisses near your face. “i wanna hear you. speak up, wanna hear that voice talk to me nice.”

once you end up creaming down his shaft for a second time. you’re shaking, a mess and he has to hold you in his arms. a warm smile on his lips as your body lifelessly rocked against him.

not exactly moving your hips anymore—you panted, tugging on the front fabric of his shirt before slumping your head against his chest.

“aww, my poor baby’s all exhausted, hm? there there, ‘s okay. i got you, kento’s got you.”

★ GOJO SATORU.

the moment he figures out you’re trying to be quiet purposely — hiding your moans. a hand covering your mouth he grows confused, yet it turns to straight cockiness. 

“heyyy, don’t be like that,” he purses his lips, you’re laid flat on your back with your legs just lightly pushed apart. just open and spread just for him and only him. “hiding your pretty moans from me? aw man, that’s no fun, princess…”

and he gives you a faux pout your right hand that wasn’t occupied, your nails dug into the depths of his skin, marking up his pale toned arm.

gojo looks down at you, one hand lightly pressing against your tummy to feel how good he was fucking you. 

“m-mhm s-sato—,” you’d pant, again and again. your pussy gripped and hugged tight against him. a bear hug practically. your walls grew out to be so needy, suffocating yet you get cut off your words once he grabs your chin. a thumb swipes against the tiny drool seeping down the corner of your mouth. 

“don’t hide from me.” he murmurs. he’s real slow with his movements against you, slow and steady. 

his bare chest presses against you, and he’s so hot, his heat radiates against your skin, almost as if he was sticking against you. “don’t cover that pretty face. matter of fact,” and then he pistons his thrusts—a hand running up and down your waist, squelches of your cunt ringing through your ears like a bell. “moan in my mouth. gimme a little kiss,” and then he teasingly puts a finger against his lips. “riiiight here, baby.”

his body jerks against yours and gojo brings you into a deep kiss once you lean. his tongue traces against yours, heaving before he starts moaning into your mouth from your sweetened taste.

“sweet girl,” he’d grunt, you could feel his erectness practically plug you full. whilst gojo’s chest pressed against yours, he started to grind slowly against you. your lips parted a bit, eliciting a needy moan from your throat.

it was the way your legs trapped his slim waist, easily locking around. you gasped — feeling gojo move your hand from your face, pinning them towards the sides, and you felt that dumb coy smile of his tug against the corners of his lips.

he smiles at how you start to cover your mouth again, but he moves your hand away. “so damn shy for nooo reason,” he teases. with a blindfold half on, gojo he playfully tugs on the band, clicking his tongue with a swift head shake. “ah ah, i wanna hear you.”

and you grew out to be more flustered the minute he pulls away from kissing. strands of spit depart your lips and his. leaning into your neck to softly, gojo nibbles against your skin all to just to drag out more noises from you.

“think ‘m gonna laugh at your orgasm or somethin’?” he whispers against your skin, still buried deep—inches inside your pussy that gripped and clamped down on him before he giggles at the way you nod. “aw. i won’t do that. ‘m not that mean.”

“promise?” you mumbled.

his thrusts, so fulfilling. it was so deep, reaching directly into those spots to make you your brain short circuit. swallowing thickly, you end up cutely tugging on his arm.

he chuckles. “oh i promise, baby,” and then he plants a kiss near your nose—cheek—then near the corner of your mouth, finally locking his fingers with yours. “be as loud as you want, if it helps, i’ll be loud with you,” and then he runs a hand down his back. “just…not too loud because it’ll be the seventh time the erm…neighbors complain about us, heheh.”

★ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

“what’s with you?” he raises a dark brow, your back’s being pressed against his chest.

riding him in reverse and you’re so quiet….

dragging a few nails lightly against his thigh and he gives the right side of your neck a few playful bites. “you’re not all whiney like ya usually are.”

his words were so smooth and sly against your neck, delicately brushing against your skin.

he throbs inside you, and you clamp and clamp down on him. you’re so dizzy—yet you seclude your moans by pressing your glossed lips together, only cute faint soft mutters of moans slipping out here and there.

“…woman,” he grunts, pausing your hips, your eyes briefly widen at the feeling of sukuna’s big hands hold your waist in place—a single shift of his thigh, and you felt his girth expand deep inside your walls. “aw don’t don’t hide from me now,” he smiles, a mere softness gliding against his deep tone.

you started to cover your face with your hands from how embarrassed you were—yet sukuna grabs your hands and chuckles. the way the tips of his fingers graze against you make you tingle. you pulsed so much—it got you off to where you felt yourself start to salivate, all from his touch and words.

“you know better than to not hide your pretty voice,” he murmurs, softly sinking his canines into your neck. nibble after nibble, you panted. a whimper leaves your throat once he starts to bounce his thigh. “or…should i stop?”

“n—no,” you choked out, a swift head shake. the way he softly sucks against your skin, gentle fangs softly seeping into your neck before giving your neck a few sweet kisses. “kuna- don’t stop.”

“i would,” he hums with a chortle. deep voice full of smug and satirize. and his cock was just idle against you. at this point you were cockwarming him, and you wanted to move but he had your hips still. “but i guess someone thought it was a good idea to hide their pretty moans from me.”

he was such a tease—you felt yourself burn up once he drags a a hand down between your legs to rub a few good circles against your clit, maneuvering his fingers, and you’re so wet….

it was sloppy.

squelch after squelch. you whimpered, gripping onto his hand to make him rub harder but then he chuckles, lightly swatting your hand away. “oh…?you like that? or you’d prefer for me to finish?”

“f-finish, ‘kuna..”

“then moan for me,” he whispers, giving your skin a soft suck. sukuna starts to bounce his thigh again and you whine. nails piercing into his thighs, you hit your lip before letting off a moan. “see, that wasn’t so hard, now was it, brat,” and he helps you start to grind your hips against him. reaching so deep, your head fell back against him and he lowly guffaws. “yeah, be loud. don’t care who here’s, ‘s just you and me.”

★ GETO SUGURU.

he’d be propped up in between your legs, eating you out like a starved man. you have the courtesy of tying his long, pretty hair back for him.

a few minutes had past yet he was taking his precious time, pressing sweet kisses against your cunt.

you felt yourself throb and flutter, gripping onto his hair and he has a smile.

“love pullin’ on my hair, huh?” he mutters, swiping a thumb against your slit. you happily coat him with your slick than ran down his chin. you gave him a pathetic nod, and you shiver, lips parting from the way geto presses his tongue against your labia — giving it lick after lick.

geto’s raises a brow at the way you’re covering your mouth with a hand, just barely keeping eye contact with him.

he plants a chaste kiss against your pussy before pausing briefly. breaking himself away and now you pout. “…hey,” he murmurs, a coy cunning voice. “stop that, baby.”

“s-stop what?” you hitched, your legs feeling warm. he was so sloppy with his tongue, yet gentle.

“girl, you know what i’m talking about.” a subtle eye-roll, geto sits up from between your legs. his tone was now filled with playfulness yet a bit of sass.

you stare down at him, a few strands occluding his view of vision.

tightly holding onto his hair, he stares at your pussy then at you.

“you’re being all timid and shy. c’mon, ‘s just me. i wanna hear how good i make you feel,” and then he slowly lays his tongue flat against your cunt. “…so…let….me,” he paused between speech. using two fingers to lightly spread open your folds, geto laps his tongue again to taste your sweet. “—finish my meal, and lemme hear you.”

“o-okay.” you stuttered. gritting your teeth for a split second, your legs felt numb and not even moments later.

he ends up coaxing yet another orgasm out of you, your mind goes blank. you were so loud.

he couldn’t help but chuckle at you, how cute you were. with the way your body jerked and squirmed all because of his tongue.

geto gives your pussy a good suck, he knows all the right spots to swirl and run his tongue across.

“there it is,” he hums, and his head goes forward before you yank a bit too hard between your legs. “e-easy, sweetheart. don’t pull my hair out now.”

★ FUSHIGURO TOJI.

toji grunts — two rough hands attached to your waist as he’s got your head pressed against the mattress. you’re biting the sheets with your teeth, strained moans being secluded entirely and toji immediately notices, you feel the curve of his dick throb against you. it was so good, your eyes rolled all the way back, toji’s got your wrists in a good hold before he pauses his sloppy thrusts.

“hmph.”

“w-why’d you stop..” you spat out, your voice was a bit shaky and muffled….solely from the way your teeth tugged against the sheets.

toji’s stubborn and doesn’t reply, and instead, he makes you move your ass up just a bit—yet he pulls out, and you gasp at the feeling of him just rubbing his leaky plump tip against your inner folds.

a few inches and he'd be right back in. you cringed. and you started to whine, face down and ass up, your body felt so hot and tingly.

“t-tojiiii..”

“w-whattt..”

he mocks your voice, and you let off a frustrated sigh, he butchers your tone in the most dramatic way. you don’t even sound like that. “aw, getting frustrated, ey? how come y’er biting the sheets. ya don’t want me to hear you or somethin’—?”

your eyebrows contorted together, and you huffed out a needy breath, back starting to arch idly. “no,” and you feel the tips of your ears grow hot at a scorching temperature—his tip, it was rounded and fat, just swiping against your folds. with just a bit of a push he’d be back inside, but he kept sliding out. “toji, f-finish…finish fucking me.”

“say please.”

you pout, your cheek pressing into the mattress now—desperately craving him to continue. “please…”

“silly girl. ya forgot to say pretty please.”

“toji….” you moaned, craving to feel him again, and he caressed his fingers against your ass, teasing you—a single playful click of his tongue, and he’s got you wrapped around his finger. he starts to make you rollick and move your hips against him, still holding your hips. you grumbled, finally letting off a moan—just wanting him to not tease and finish. “pretty please.”

“good girl,” he purrs softly, dipping his hips against you just slightly before you sit your head up. “now now, lie back,” he mutters, and he starts to go back inside again, a good squeeze and fit and you let off a soft whine once his cock hits there.

you’re seeing blanks, mouth open and all, you whimper before you start getting louder. “there we go….use that whiney voice, jus’ like ya always have, doll.”

[adelheidvonschicksal]

The Love and Deepspace Boys Trying to Get You to Sleep ⋆｡°✩

Tags: Fluff, teasing, needy boys, mild sexual content, gender neutral reader (I had to re-write so please let me know if I messed up.)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Xavier is surprisingly softer than you expected when you first met him on your mission together. He’s an incredibly powerful hunter but possesses a quiet and gentle, almost oblivious, aura when navigating everyday life, like a ghost floating through the space he takes up. It should also be understood that this very nature of his makes him affectionate, so much so, that he won’t unwrap his arms around your waist and stop pressing his head to your shoulder as you sit at the kitchen bar, typing on your laptop.

“Are you planning on staying up later than the stars?” he mumbles.

There’s a gentle yawn against your skin from the sluggish man, highlighting just how long he’s been trying to coax you into going to bed.

“I wanted to finish this report for work.”

“The report will be there tomorrow,” he says. You swat away his hand that reaches for the power button on the laptop causing him to pout. He grumbles. “You should go to bed. Otherwise, I can’t sleep.”

Smiling to yourself, you decide to tease him. “Oh, so you’re really trying to get me to go to bed for your own benefit?”

“Well, you can’t very well expect me to do it by myself anymore.” Xavier nuzzles his head into the slope of your neck, cuddling you. “It’s your responsibility since you ruined my sleeping habits.”

“Ruined?”

“Ramshackled,” he repeats quietly, causing you to giggle. With an airy sigh, he presses his weight into you more. “How do you expect me to sleep when I can’t hold you?”

Defeated, you save your work and close the laptop. You swivel in your chair, enough to meet his eye, and cup a hand to his cheek. It never stops being endearing to you how he cutely closes his eyes and angles his head to snuggle your palm.

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to beg.”

His eyes flutter open, and the smile on his face grows as he wraps his fingers around yours. Carefully, he pulls on your hand to bring it up enough to begin to lace your wrist with affectionate kisses, tracing your pulse.

“I thought you enjoyed my begging.”

“That’s different.”

“It isn’t,” Xavier mutters into your skin, pressing another light kiss.

“It is.”

“So, you're resolute about that position?” he questions “innocently”. There’s something mischievous about the glint in those arctic eyes, which makes your face warm. You find yourself breaking eye contact, or else you’d lose it.

“Yes.”

Xavier chuckles then begins to lead his kisses down your arm. “In that case, care to explain the difference in detail, love?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sleep.”

“But—”

“Sleep.”

Zayne narrows his eyes at you from his side of the bed. You can’t blame him for being a little annoyed right now but the movie you put on to fall asleep was much better than you expected; and instead of falling asleep, you were more awake than ever at a very late one in the morning.

“I’m almost done with the movie,” you tell him, hoping he’ll cut you a little slack this one time.

“Everyone dies at the end of their own stupidity,” he bluntly states and grabs the remote. The television turns off with an overly loud click, and you pout. “Now, sleep.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m fine with that title if it gets you to rest,” he explains with a smooth yawn. “Poor sleep habits lead to bad decision-making later. You’re more likely to develop high blood pressure, and with your heart in particular—”

“I get it. I get it,” you say, wanting to be spared the lecture. Zayne is a good person and a better doctor, but you wish he didn’t worry about you so much just because you might have a little big heart problem. Sighing, you squiggle onto your back and pull the sheets up to your collar, kicking them a little childishly in the process (totally not to let him know that you were not pleased with his spoiling). “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“Very.”

Zayne turns over onto his side, away from you, and you frown at the loneliness. Softly, you poke him in the back, once, then twice then a third time before you finally get a hum in response.

“Am I really not getting a good night kiss?”

“Do you need one to sleep?” he asks, his voice deeper from the lack of sleep, urging you to convince him to kiss you even more.

“Duh,” you explain. Slowly, he turns back over to look at you, propping himself up on one arm with a look that says “Is that so” as you continue to ramble. It makes you a little flustered when he watches you so intently. He’s always had this silent dominance that makes you obedient, but you could get what you want from him just as easily with the exact opposite strategy. Cutely, you puff your bottom lip out at him. “There has to be some health benefit to it. Kissing makes people all happy. Happy is good, right?”

It takes a second for him to take in what you say, those smokey eyes closing in on you with thought before he climbs over you. He places both hands at your sides and quickly boxes in your upper thighs with his knees.

“You’re thinking of dopamine,” he says.

“Huh?”

“That makes you “all happy”,” he explains and presses a deep kiss to your lips, leaving you thoughtless and breathless all at once. He moves to your jaw, and you begin to squirm from the pressure of his impassioned lips.

“And Serotonin.”

Another kiss, lower.

“Oxytocin.”

He’s at your shoulder when he starts to nip your skin, and one of his hands moves to ski up the back of your thigh.

“Reduced cortisol.”

Flustered, you grip his arms.

“Zayne, stop, it tickles,” you whine, but it’s the last thing you actually want as he readjusts his position and hovers above you.

His usually neat hair is messier and his breathing a little heavier judging by how his chest laboriously rises and falls. Groaning, you bite your bottom lip as he knowingly leans in and whispers,

“You need it to help you sleep, isn’t that what you said?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Why don’t you just say you don’t love me anymore?”

You look up from your phone screen at the sudden accusation. You’re resting on the couch, your back propped up by the armrest and legs splayed out on the other cushion while Rafayel looks down at you with crossed arms and a less-than-pleased scowl on his face. You’re entirely confused as to what you could’ve done to make him think something like that.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been playing video games for what—the last two hours?” he says, uncrossing his arms to grab your phone. It’s too late to warn him as he glances at the screen, clicking a few times. “What are you playing anyway? An…otome? Sheesh, go ahead and say you want me gone. Come on, tell me you actually hate me.”

Holding in your smile, you shake your head and affectionately roll your eyes. It takes an enormous amount of effort to not laugh as he continues to rant. “So, it’s one of those things. I thought I was actually in trouble.”

And by those things, you mean his dramatics.

“Hush, my complaints are perfectly legitimate,” he demands as he pushes your legs aside and sits on the couch. Leaning over, he flashes the screen at you to show the evidence he has that you’re completely unfair, unfaithful, and downright mean. “What’s this game giving you that I’m not? Are my dashing good looks and even better personality not enough? Is that it?”

Gently, you take the phone from his hand and set it down on the end table. “You’re plenty, perfect even.”

He scoffs and refuses to look at you. “Apparently not. Don’t you ever think about anyone else? What if I want to cuddle with you one day but you’re too busy to notice because you’re playing silly games?”

Ah, there it is. His real want. You never know why he can never just come out and say it.

“Rafayel, do you want me to come to bed and cuddle with you?”

“Want is a strong word,” he remarks but you can see his resolve (can you call it that when he planned to give in all along?) crumbling as he slowly turns back to meet your gaze, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Not that you deserve it or care.”

Humming, you sit up, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pull him down onto you. Lovingly, you snuggle him, stopping to only take in how red his neck and ears start to get when you squeeze him and start to stroke through his hair. You’re not sure if Lumerians can blow happy bubbles like he claims, but he definitely hums and relaxes his entire body weight to lay on top of you like he wants to sink into your skin.

Teasingly, you coo at him. “You’re so needy.”

“I’d rather say you humans aren’t needy enough,” he fires back as he wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the corner of your lips. “Ah, the sweet taste of victory.”

Giving out a gentle and short laugh, you lightly tap his back. “Go to sleep.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[chastiefoul]

love and deepspace men when you (playfully) reject their kiss ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel

fluff, fluff, FLUFF

zayne

his kiss landed on the outer corner of your lips instead as you turned away at the very last second as he leaned in

he just stared at you for a solid five seconds.

“was this because i left you on read this afternoon?” his voice was soft, uncertainty danced across his feature. you just shrugged, turning away from him to hide the smile you’ve been trying really hard to suppress.

he grabbed a hold of your waist first, keeping you in place. he saw the shameless smile on your face, couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle of his own. “should’ve known.”

you laughed, “but you did left me on read, how dare you?” his thumb moved up and down on your side as he made no change on his expression, like doing a gesture he didn’t even realize doing it. “alright then, i apologize for not replying within twenty minutes, since i did give you a call as soon as i was available.”

you put your hands on either side of his cheeks, he leaned into the touch. of course, it didn’t bothered you one bit when he didn’t reply right away since you knew very well how demanding his job was.

you planted a sweet kiss on his lips, you could feel his little smile as you pulled away. “good work today, zayne.”

“hm, then surely you would indulge me more of that for a moment longer?”

xavier

he’s quiet for a moment; he did kiss you, but he didn’t know why you’d turn your head on the last second like that as he kissed you on the cheek instead.

he casted his gaze downwards, looking like a rejected kitten in a pouring rain searching for its owner.

your heart squeezed at the adorable act, lifting his chin with your palm. he tilted his head questioningly, the words was obvious on his face. did i do something wrong today? were you mad?

xavier stared at you as he recalled today’s events, but he reached his wits end pretty fast since he still had no idea why you’d reject his kiss.

you then giggled at his clueless expression, and xavier immediately understood that you’re being playful. he let out a little sigh of relief, embracing you. his neck deep at the crook of your neck, his soft hair tickling you in the best way possible.

“you’re too playful at times,” he mumbled, he looked like he had all the peace in the world. “sorry, will you forgive me?” you ran your fingers through the back of his head. “i’ll forgive  you if you promise not to reject my kiss ever again,” he said.

you laughed, “okay then, if you insist.”

rafayel

oh. he looked so offended beyond belief. you’d think someone had insulted his painting; a product from his passion and effort. but to think it’s just a face he made because you didn’t want him to kiss you.

“i see what this is,” he started, the dramatic side of him just wouldn’t let this slide. you challenged, “yeah? what is it?”

“you tell me. this is just the beginning isn’t it. first you reject my kiss, next thing i know you’d be packing your bags, telling me you’ve fallen out of love.” he crossed his arms in front of his chest, his pout was the most exaggerated as it’s ever been.

you had to hold your laugh so hard, you covered your mouth with your fist. “it was just a kiss rafayel, i wasn’t feeling it.” you replied, trying your best to sound serious.

“wasn’t feeling it?” he gasped, like you just insulted his whole entire bloodline. he put up a palm in front of your face, like refraining you to say more controversial things. he took a deep breath to calm himself, “it’s fine, it’s not like i was eager to kiss you either.” he mumbled like he was talking to himself, although it’s obvious he’s being a little loud on purpose. also, lies. he practically bounced on air when he approached you.

finally a laugh escaped you, rafayel looked at you and he just fumed. “just so you know i expect you to make up for all the emotional distress i just went through.” you laughed a little more as you grabbed a hold of his face. “i would kiss you many times to make it up but i think someone just said he wasn’t really that eager to kiss me?” you raised an eyebrow.

his eyes lit up for a moment at the mention of a kiss, and next second he looked around frantically to make an excuse. “it’s okay i understand, fighting that many wanderers who make a lot of strange screeching noises? it’d disturb your hearing a little. i said i was eager to kiss you.” he smiled, nodding to himself. you laughed once more at his ridiculousness.

“sure, let’s go with that excuse.” you kissed him and when you pulled away he held your head, giving you multiple kisses before he let you go with a grin.

[bi-writes]

who to call to clean up after an "accident" than your sick and twisted military boyfriend? :D (dark!ghost x dark!fem!reader, 18+)

cw: dark!reader, dark!simon, horror movie vibes, graphic depictions of character death/murder, unhealthy relationship dynamics, one slip of daddy, smut, unprotected piv, simon "spit in my mouth" riley, reader and simon are kinda psycho :D

you've been so nice to her. really nice. you've let it slide off your back whenever she doesn't do her dishes. you pretend you don't notice when she borrows your shoes from the hallway and wears them out to dinner. you hide yourself in your room when she has her awful, loud guests over, and you have never once said anything about how she takes her sweet time in the shared bathroom in the morning and makes you late 2 days a week for work.

but this? this?

she needs to keep simon's name out of her fucking mouth.

"excuse me?" you say finally. your roommate is shrugging on her jacket to leave, her purse in her hand as she types on her phone, using it as a way to not make eye-contact with you. her long nails are tapping against the screen, and it feels like fucking drip water torture. "what the fuck did you just say?"

she sighs, irritated, rolling her eyes as she keeps tapping away at the screen.

"you're so dramatic, it was just a fucking joke."

"you know, i let a lot of things slide," you laugh, humorlessly, and you cross your arms over your chest as you follow her into the kitchen. "but you need to be careful what you say."

"i don't do anything except call it like i see it," she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder and looking at herself in the reflection of the mirror hanging on the wall. "you need to just...go out more. man like that isn't gonna stay for long if you don't give him something to go for. he's bored, you know. when you have him over here all the time. and i've totally caught him peeking at me after i shower, y'know."

"well why the fuck are you wearing nothing but a towel when my boyfriend is here, anyways?" you snap. "he's trying to be polite, he's a guest. what if i wore a fucking towel when you had your guy friends over?"

she laughs, poking at the edge of her lip to fix the gloss of her pout. "trust me, honey, no one's looking at you in a towel."

you step back, a little shocked. she rolls her eyes again, sighing.

"i didn't--"

"are you kidding me?" you retort. "you're the worst fucking roommate in the world, and i put up with all your bullshit, and now you're going to go so low as to insult the way i look just to make yourself feel better?" you make your way around the kitchen island. "you don't wash your fucking dishes, you steal my fucking clothes, you're always late on your rent so i have to spot you--"

"you know what, just because i'm fucking happy, and you're not, doesn't mean you have to take it out on me!"

"i am happy, you sorry bitch!" you cry. "i'm so fucking happy, you're the only thing in my life making me constantly miserable!"

"oh, shove it up your ass, you ungrateful little shit!" she snaps. "you're just so fucking insecure and hate me so badly just because simon would rather fuck a girl like me than have to spend another minute with--"

the crack of cast iron against her head shuts her up. it dents the side of her head easily, and her face smacks against the countertop before she crumples to the floor.

it's so fast. one minute, she's yapping, high-pitched voice straining your ears. the next, she's silent.

and she won't say simon's fucking name again.

you watch with bated breath as she folds into herself, her head hitting the hardwood last, a slow puddle of blood beginning to grow under the tendrils of her hair as your eyes move to the heavy pan you're still holding in your hands.

fuck, that's a lot of blood. god, you thought she was just full of fucking air.

you drop the pan once the rush of anger leaves your chest. it thunks onto the ground, and your hands shake as you see the specks of blood that are on the back of your hands, sprinkled over the shirt you wear. it stains your bare legs, even your toes, and you don't even want to look at the spray of it along the counters.

you should be crying, you think. you should feel bad. you're trembling a little, but you think it's just the adrenaline beginning to fade and not the guilt you know is supposed to be racking your insides.

you turn your eyes back to her. her eyes are dull. she doesn't move. it's so quiet now, utterly silent, and you take a deep breath as you take in the silence that you've craved for a long while now. you make your way quietly out of the kitchen, stepping over her body before going for your phone that sits on the coffee table in front of the couch.

you keep your eyes on her as you put your phone to your ear. it rings, and you tilt your head to the side as the blood begins to spiderweb under the kitchen table.

"'ello?"

you blink, looking towards the door. you clutch your phone a little tighter to your ear.

"simon?" you say softly. "a-are...are you busy?"

he hums lowly, chuckling, "no' at the moment, swee'eart, why?" he asks. "mmm...missed y'r voice..." you close your eyes as you hear the buckle of his belt. you try not to picture your giant of a boyfriend leaning back on his worn couch and shoving his jeans low enough to fuck his fist. "tolk t'me, luv...tell me 'ow much ya miss daddy."

you clear your throat gently, willing yourself to ignore the soft squelch of what you know is his hand around his cock, to not let it distract you from what's more important. "uhm...i liked the flowers you gave me, simon. t-they were beautiful."

the sounds on the other end of the phone quiet. you hear shuffling, and then a few moments later, the clink of his car keys.

"tha' right, baby?" he asks, and you close your eyes as you hear the front door of his flat opening. he's already on the way, already coming.

"yeah," you sniffle. "really nice sunflowers."

a yellow flower. he huffs on the other end of the phone, breathing a little easier.

"good girl," he murmurs, and then the line cuts. you set the phone down, making your way back to the kitchen and taking a seat at the table. you watch as the blood continues to curl over the floor. you make no attempt to help her; you just swing your feet under you as you look at her spoiled outfit, just grateful she isn't wearing your shoes or one of your jackets. you would hate to have to throw something out that she got all dirty.

there's a curt knock at the door ten minutes later, and then it opens. simon shuts the door behind him, cracking his neck by moving it from side to side before narrowing his eyes at you. you bite your lip, blinking, forgetting suddenly why he is here when he looks so fucking good. he's got a sweatshirt on under his windbreaker, worn jeans tucked into his boots; you like these jeans, his ass looks incredible in them.

"wot happened?" he asks. you stand, remembering your place. your lip starts trembling, and simon's eyes soften just a little. he's wearing his balaclava, hood up over his head and jacket zipped up, shadowing any true expression on his face. his gait sounds heavy as he lets his hands out of his pockets, coming towards you. when he steps into the kitchen, his eyes dart towards your roommate who's still on the floor, laid out unnaturally just by the oven.

he lets out a low breath, clicking his tongue under the mask. you hold your breath as you wait for his reaction.

"bloody hell," simon mutters, reaching up and throwing his hood off. you wring your hands together nervously, your eyes beginning to sting with tears. you brace for the accusations, for the inevitable terror of facing the music. simon is military, for fuck's sake, why the fuck did you think turning to him would be a good idea?

"i...i-i--" you start, looking up at him, and he holds up a hand, taking the side of your face into his palm before smoothing a gloved thumb over your bottom lip. you blink in confusion, not understanding.

"'s olright, baby," he shushes you, shaking his head. "don't cry."

"simon, i--" you sputter a little, gripping his wrist gently. "i just--i couldn't do it anymore, she just--"

he pities you. maybe you can explain. maybe if you tell him a warped story of what happened, he can help you. he must know someone. he must have important friends, he must--

he uses his free hand to move his mask up over his nose, and you lean into him when he bends, kissing you warmly. your eyes flutter shut, and you shuffle closer as he kisses you sloppy, kisses you hot. you mewl as he slips his tongue into your mouth, licking over your teeth and humming low as he pulls away. his eyes are flashing.

mmm. love.

"hmm..." simon licks his lips, smiling a little. he looks over you, almost pensive, his eyes scanning over your face before he settles back on your eyes. it's tender, the way he looks at you. romantic. "let's get this off of ya."

he reaches for the large shirt you are wearing, pulling it up and over your head. he crumples it into a ball before tossing it on top of your roommate, nodding his head behind you.

it's then that you realize simon isn't going to do the noble thing. he isn't going to call the police. he isn't going to turn you in, make you explain, he seems uninterested in knowing what really happened. no, he already knows what happened. but that's not important.

his pretty, perfect girl got into a little trouble. and he's going to make this go away.

"go on, luv. take a nice shower, yeah?" simon turns you around and pushes on your back gently. you suck in a shaky breath when he fondles your ass, pulling on your panties gently. "mmm...take these off, too."

you slip your panties down your legs, handing them to him.

"they have blood on them, too?" you ask, wiping your face, and he chuckles lowly.

"nah," he shrugs, stuffing them into his back pocket after taking a little sniff. "these are just for me."

jesus fucking christ, there's really something wrong with him. there's something really, really wrong with him.

and something wrong with me.

simon looks you up and down, his eyes catching on your naked body for just a few moments before he nods his head again.

"go on," he tells you. "before i get distracted." you pause for a moment, tilting your head back a little as he reaches out and cups one of your breasts in his big hand. you bite your lip, swallowing back a heavy breath as he flicks his thumb over your nipple gently. "greatest tits 've ever seen," he mumbles, scrunching his nose under the mask before he lets you go. "yeah, go on, baby." it takes everything in you to walk away when you see him reach down with that same hand and grip his bulge through his jeans, adjusting himself as he turns back to the mess in the kitchen.

when you shut the bathroom door behind you, you hear shuffling in the living room. the coffee table scraping. the couch being pushed. the rustle of the rug you have there. he grunts a little, and you hear his boots track from the kitchen back to the living room.

you turn the water on hot. you decide to take a bath, not looking at yourself in the mirror as you sink into the tub and plug the drain. you make the water scalding, and it soothes your sore muscles as you rest your cheek against the edge of the tub and stare at the door.

you're not sure how long you stay there. long enough for the water to nearly slosh over the edge of the tub and for simon to swing the bathroom door open, seemingly done with his...tasks.

he's taken his sweatshirt off. just a black t-shirt tucked into jeans, and there's a slight pant to his breaths that tell you he's exerted some energy. you notice he has his gloves still on, but before he touches you, he takes them off and tosses them into the sink.

"move over," simon mutters, starting to undress. you look up at him as he undoes the button on his pants, shucking his shirt off and into the corner before dropping his jeans. the water swishes as you sit up, and you swallow hard when simon kicks his boots and pants off, his cock hanging heavy as his mask is the last to hit the floor.

fuck, he's so pretty.

he has no regard for his size. he simply steps into the tub behind you, taking a seat. he looks comically large in your small bathtub, and you squeak a little as the water spills over the edge of the bath and wets the floor. he hums as he feels the hot water on his back. you don't say anything as his hands start to turn the water a little red. you just look up, away, at him.

you shuffle between his legs, tucking yourself into his space. you can't help but look him up and down, admiring his naked physique. he's just hot. big arms, thick thighs, sunburnt tattoos and scars cutting across his face. he hasn't shaved today, so there's some stubble along his jaw, but your eyes focus a little too much on his girthy length, heavy as it sits on his stomach and leaks a little there. his fat stomach, all solid and pudgy, such a nice place for you to rest your hands.

"you did good today," simon says finally. you look at him, and he tilts his head to the side. his approval makes your chest warm. "callin' me like tha'. wot a good girl you are."

keeping quiet on the phone is what he doesn't add out loud.

you purse your lips, trying not to keen at the praise, but it's hard not to when he reaches over and slides his hand over your shoulder, thumbing at your jaw.

"i-i didn't...didn't know what to do," you admit, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. you didn't know what to do, so you called him. level-headed enough to not do something rash and call someone else, no, you called him.

"mmm...tha's wot i'm 'ere for, luv," simon soothes you. "made such a little mess..."

you close your eyes. it's sick. deranged. fuck, it feels nice.

why don't i feel anything?

"i know. i'm sorry."

"nothin' ta be sorry about."

you slump into his arms, resting your cheek on his solid chest. you can feel his cock pulsing against your tummy, and you adjust yourself in the water, straddling him as you rest your chin on his pecs and look up at him through watery eyes.

you aren't sad. no. not sad at all. simon has shown you what he will do for the you. the lengths he will go. what he'll forgive just to take care of you. he's so capable, so understanding.

sick. twisted. mine.

"then i'll just say thank you," you mumble, grinding your hips slowly. simon hums, a wicked smile coming over his scarred face. he licks over his bottom lip, big hands gripping you by the fat of your hips as you grip the edges of the tub for stability. "say thank you to my big, strong man for taking such good care of me..."

he chuckles, his eyes lowering, watching your tits sway as you fit your pussy over his length and grind down on him.

"tha' so, baby?"

you nod.

"mhm," you whine. "how can i thank you, my big boy? how can i show you how grateful i am for cleaning up after me, hmm?" you bend at the waist, kissing him wet and warm, and he hisses as you suck his tongue into your mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, and normally you would curse him for it, but right now it tastes so much like him, and you lick around his teeth trying to taste more of that sweet nicotine.

"fuck--such a naughty little girl..." he snickers, reaching down. you sigh when he slides his big palms over your ass, forcing you to grind slower, the tip of his cock sliding through your folds leisurely. you grip the edges of the tub tighter, pressing down to give you more leverage to grind down harder. "make such a mess, oll the time..." you gasp when he presses into you just enough, the tip breaching your entrance and forcing you to squeeze around him, your cunt trying to suck him in. "olways needin' me ta pick up afta ya..."

you giggle, sliding your hands up his chest, gripping his shoulders for leverage as you sink down onto him. he grits his teeth as you do, his eyes focused on the way his cock disappears inch by inch until you're seated down in his lap, his length kissing deep and twitching excitedly. he always feels like a teenager again whenever you fuck--like you're the first pretty girl to ever wet his cock.

you cup his cheeks finally, smoothing your thumbs under his eyes as you bring his gaze up to meet yours. you swallow hard, looking down at him.

"i-i love you, simon," you breathe. he stills underneath you, his jaw clenching as he frowns just a little. you come a little closer, nuzzling your nose against his, your thumb falling to trace the outline of his torn lip. "i should've said it a long time ago...i-i..."

"heart's beatin' out y'r chest, luv," he mutters lowly. "'s olright...'m not goin' anywhere."

it's so disgusting. you should be fucking ill. you should be scrambling to the toilet, your breakfast halfway up your throat. you should be crying, emotional, begging simon to tell the cops that it was all your fault, because it is. he should've come here and made you do the level-headed thing and confess your terrible crime.

he shouldn't be here, sitting underneath you in your tub, cock-deep inside of you after helping you commit murder and then fucking clean it all up.

"what did i do?" you gasp, sitting up. you move to get out of the tub, but simon growls, putting two firm hands on your ass and shoving you back down on his cock, making you cry. "w-what did i do? s-simon, why don't i feel bad, why am i not sorry--?!"

simon tsks, feigning comfort. he juts his bottom lip out into a pout, mocking your little cries.

"oh, luvvie, don't start cryin' now," he chuckles. "don't start pretending like y'care."

uhm...

"simon--"

"no one likes a liar."

you're still trying to pretend, and he knows this. you're still trying to act how someone normally would react. someone normal, someone who thinks rationally, would never have picked up the pan in the first place. and even if they had, they would've scrambled, cried, picked up the phone and confessed, called an ambulance as they tried to get her to start breathing again, put both hands on her chest and tried to get her wake up.

but you didn't. you watched, unnervingly calm, as she stained the hardwood with her blood. you watched as her eyes glassed over, lifeless, and you watched as her insides began to paint the floor in abstract shapes as you gave it time to spread. and not once during that time, or waiting for simon, did you think to help her.

you didn't want to help her. and you certainly didn't think she deserved to get back up. maybe she hadn't done anything quite harsh enough to deserve death in someone else's eyes. annoying, overbearing, rude.

but it's hard to feel bad when she talked about simon. when she called him by his name. when you've seen her let her towel slip when he's in her vicinity, trying to coax him into her room when you're looking away.

you should've taken one of the throwing knives that simon hides in his boot and thrown it at her then, just for that.

"we're cut from the same bloody cloth, baby," simon says, almost accusingly. you grip the edges of the tub, trying to stand again, but he cants his hips and fucks up into you, drawing a frenzied moan out of you. you reach for his shoulders as he does it again, his tongue darting out before he licks a fat stripe over your pebbled nipple. "'s olright. 's okay, luv. don't worry. don't hafta get y'r hands dirty, swee'eart, i've got it."

"but simon," you whine, but all he does is shake his head. you don't have to put on this morality act for him. you don't have to pretend that you are sorry for something that you had every right to do, you don't have to explain to him why you aren't feeling the way you should be feeling.

simon doesn't care about how you should feel. he only cares about how you actually feel.

"she was in y'r way," simon grunts. "always bein' a bloody brat." he fists your hair and brings your mouth to his, groaning as you tighten around his cock. "'ow many times did she fuck ya over, baby, hmm? 'ow many times did she steal y'r fuckin' things, come outta the loo wearin' nothin' but her fuckin' knickers, yeah? 'ow many times?"

you kiss him, frantic, digging your nails into his pecs and dragging them angrily.

yeah. fuck her. fuck what she did to me, fuck the way she behaved, fuck her stupid face and her stupid attitude and her stupid little games.

"called ya names..." he's hitting your sweet spot now, making you cry from pleasure. your pussy feels so hot, squeezing him because you know he's right, and the way he fucks this time makes you think he really knows what you are and knows exactly how to get you there. "wot a fuckin' twat. deserved every bit o' it, baby."

you meet his eyes, dark and cruel. he's still moving, still holding onto your hips and drawing out little whines, but it's different suddenly, it's more. you nod, understanding.

simon is terrible. no good. his head isn't in the right place, maybe it never has been. you wonder, briefly, if this is what he does when he's at work, if these are the things that he's used to. maybe simon has been in service too long--maybe he doesn't understand that you aren't at war here, that you can't just kill and clean up, that you aren't in the field.

"she deserved it," you whimper, and he grins, all teeth, all mean.

"tha's it."

"she was such a bitch."

"fuckin' right."

"she got what was coming for her."

"nnghhh--fuck, baby, gonna make me fuckin' cum, tolkin' like tha'," he hisses. you practically smack him as you grab onto his scarred face, gritting your teeth as you glare down at him. his lips part, and you spit in his mouth as he fucks up into you, thighs hitting your ass with a wet smack that makes your head spin.

"and i'll get rid of the next bitch that so much as looks your way, simon."

the kiss is searing. hot, blinding, white noise fills your ears as he cums with you, stuffing you full as he cums hard, a pained groan leaving him as he collapses against the porcelain tub with a harsh thud. you follow him, chasing after him, kissing him between heavy breaths as you don't make any effort to move off of him. when simon opens his eyes, he can't help but smile.

he's never seen his reflection without a mirror.

[illyrianbitch]

Are We Still Friends? — Part Four

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: You navigate the aftermath of your confrontation. Azriel takes his first steps toward making things right.

Warnings: brief mentions of injury, bruises, and physical fighting. nyx being a cute baby. some fun introspection. reader is tired and overwhelmed. az is honest and open (hallelujah)

Word Count: 7k+

Part Three | Part Five

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Rhys was trying to be serious. 

He truly, truly was. 

From behind his polished desk, he looked every inch the High Lord—back straight, jaw tight, fingers drumming against the wood. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again, as though he couldn’t decide where to start.

You shifted in your seat, your body aching in strange places from the fight. The cut on your cheek throbbed and the bruising across your knuckles made every twitch of your fingers tender. But none of it compared to the strain in your cheeks—from holding back a laugh.

Feyre was perched on the arm of a chair beside you, Nyx cradled in her arms, his tiny fingers gripping the fabric of her flowy blouse. She wasn’t looking at you—refusing to, actually. Her gaze was locked firmly on her son, her lips pressed together in a trembling line, but you could see the corners twitching with suppressed amusement. You kept your gaze on her, waiting until the burn of your stare would render too hot for her to ignore. 

It didn’t take long.

Feyre’s resolve crumbled as soon as her eyes met yours. She let out a laugh—sharp and bright and loud in the too-quiet room.

Rhys’s head snapped up. “Feyre, please. Not you too.”

Not you too. Morrigan had found the situation just as amusing. 

Her laughter only grew, and Nyx joined in, making incomprehensible happy gurgles in response to his mother’s amusement. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, though she didn’t sound sorry at all. 

She passed Nyx to your open, offering arms, and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around Rhys’s neck. Her cheek brushed against his as she murmured—loud enough for you to hear, “You have to admit it’s funny.”

Rhys groaned, glancing at you. He opened his mouth, probably to protest, but you cut in, your voice laced with mock sternness as you bit back a smile. “Yeah, Rhys. You have to.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” he replied, fixing you with a look. “It is not funny.”

You gasped dramatically, adjusting Nyx in your lap and covering his tiny,pointed ears. “Don’t teach your son it’s okay to lie.”

Another groan. A hand dragged down his face, but his lips twitched as though fighting a losing battle. Finally, with a resigned shake of his head, he muttered, “Alright. Fine. It’s funny. But—

His words faltered. 

“I am sorry,” you offered, filling the silence. You raised your free hand solemnly. “I lost my cool. That’s my bad. But in my defense, she really had it coming.”

Rhys casted a look at Feyre, who was leaning against the desk now, a smile still tugging at her lips. He shook his head again, sighing. “Maybe so,” he conceded, “But I can’t have our court’s emissary beating one of our citizens in broad daylight. It’s not a great look.”

“It wasn’t broad daylight,” you corrected, your attention shifting to Nyx as you untangled your hair from his iron grip, grimacing as the motion pulled at your scalp. “The sun was setting by the time we were done.”

Feyre let out another laugh, the sound powerful enough to pull a snort from her. 

“And,” you added, “It was, at most, semi-private.”

“Unbelievable,” Rhys muttered, though there was no real heat in it.

Nyx babbled again, his chubby hand reaching for your hair once more. 

“Okay, alright,” you said, straightening in your chair. The ache in your body flared as you moved, but you ignored it, your focus on Rhys. “You’re right, Rhys. I have a title and an image to uphold. I should’ve acted better. Tell me how to fix it, and I will.”

Rhys’s gaze lingered on you, as if the longer he stared at you, the easier words would come. Then he leaned back in his chair, his attention flicking to Feyre. They were in each other’s minds, you realized, talking in that way only they could. You could pick up the signs now, even subtle—a faint twitch of her lips, the softening in his gaze, even the rhythm of their blinks syncing up. 

Finally, Rhys looked back at you, then down at Nyx, who was still babbling in your lap. When his gaze returned to yours, there was a thread of warmth beneath his voice. “You’re the most, objectively, rational of us all. If you say there was reasoning, then I believe you.”

You gave him a grateful smile.

“We just have to prepare for some damage control,” Feyre said. “It’s not exactly comforting for our citizens to see three of their highest-ranking officials fighting in the streets.”

“Three?” You frowned. “What—”

You were cut off as the door creaked open. All three of you turned as Mor stepped in, a large grin on her red painted lips. She was holding something small in her hand, and when she held it up, the light caught on the all-too-familiar jewelry.

“Don’t forget. She also found these,” Mor sang as she entered fully. She tossed two bracelets into the air, catching both effortlessly before holding them up again for emphasis. “So, I think that’s enough for a pardon.”

Rhys stood, crossing the room in a few long strides as Feyre followed. He took one of the bracelets from Mor, inspecting it carefully.

“What did you find?”

“What Y/n heard was right,” Mor said, rolling the other bracelet between her fingers. “It’s a simple listening charm. Very basic.”

Rhysand hummed. “And how does it work exactly?”

“It’s an anchored spell.”

“What does that mean?” Feyre asked, frowning. “An anchor?” 

“It means the spell needs an anchor to function—a tether to keep it active and contained. Like a balloon tied to a string.” Rhys explained, his tone turning clinical. “It’s simple magic. The charm was designed to spy on whoever it was bound to.”

“And it was bound to who? Az?”

”Actually,” Mor said. She nodded towards you. “It was bound to Y/n.”

You weren’t paying full attention, not as you played a game of tug-of-war with Nyx and a strand of your hair. When the words finally hit you, you blinked, glancing between Mor and the bracelet in her hand. “What? On me?”

Mor nodded once more as Rhysand said, “Interesting.” 

”And this was in Azriels room?” Feyre asked, looking over at you. 

“One of them,” you confirmed. “The other Selene was wearing.”

Feyre’s gaze flicked to the cut across your cheek. “So she put it in Azriel’s room, but bound it to you?”

“No one tends to go into Az’s room.” Rhys frowned. “So she was only interested in conversations you were a part of.”

Of course. A bitter laugh bubbled up, but you clenched your jaw, forcing it down. You reminded yourself of what you’d seen earlier— the insecurity, rather than the malice you’d anticipated. Still, a certain annoyance lingered. Was her relationship with Azriel so fragile that she couldn’t talk to him? Were you so unapproachable that she couldn’t come to you? Instead, she planted a charm. To spy. 

”Can I see it?” You asked. 

Mor stepped forward, holding it out, and Nyx reached for it first, his tiny fingers desperately grasping at the shiny surface.

“This isn’t for you, buddy,” Mor cooed, crouching slightly. “This is Aunt Y/n’s special bracelet from her secret admirer.”

You shot her a flat look. “Secret admirer, my ass.”

Mor grinned, but her gaze flicked over you briefly, her teasing dimmed by something else—concern, maybe. Feyre stepped forward, lifting Nyx from your lap as you examined the bracelet.

“So what do we do with it now?” You glanced up at Mor.

“I can pay Helion a visit. Break the charm.” 

“Alright,” Rhys said, the word accompanied by a considering hum. “But first, let me talk to Selene and Runa—Runa was the other one, right?”

Hearing her name sent a wave of irritation coursing through you. Your grip on the bracelet tightened instinctively as you nodded, the cool metal digging into your palm. You held it out for Mor to take, watching as she then took the second one back from Rhys. He studied you for a moment, his gaze drifting to your clenched fists.

“You’re just too great,” He said with a small grin. It was very father-like in its presentation, like he was trying to cheer up a sad child. “It’s intimidating.”

You rolled your eyes, but his attempt worked— the easy cadence chipping away at the tension in your shoulders, managing to coax a reluctant smile to your lips. “So I’ve been told.”

Your attention shifted to Feyre as she rocked Nyx gently in her arms. His soft breaths had already settled into the rhythm of sleep, and something in you softened at the sight. Your smile deepened, this time warmer, more genuine. Feyre caught your gaze, then glanced at her mate.

“It’s his bedtime,” she murmured, her attention returning to you. “And maybe you could use some rest too.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Mor cut you off, her hand already brushing against your arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said softly, though there was no room for argument in her tone.

“I’m fine,” you tried to insist, but she gave you a look, leading you out of Rhysand’s office. You gave both him and Feyre a quick goodbye. 

“Walk or winnow?” Mor asked once you were in the hall, tilting her head.

You thought it over for a brief moment. “Winnow,” you replied.

She nodded in agreement, the corners of her lips curving upwards. “Probably for the best,” she said, “Wouldn’t want you to find another citizen to fight on the way home.”

You moved to swat at her arm in mock indignation, but she was already gone, her laughter echoing faintly as she winnowed away. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Mor was humming a small tune as she led you to your bedroom. She had a few more items in her hand since the last time you saw her, only a few moments prior.

“Sit,” she instructed, nodding towards your bed. Without waiting for a response, she pulled your chair from the small desk, its legs scraping sharply against the floor. Usually, you might've winced at the sound, but tonight it barely registered. You were too tired, too lost in your own thoughts to be fully aware of your surroundings. 

You lowered yourself onto the edge of your bed, hands folded in your lap, watching as Mor set her haul on your bedside table: a first-aid healers kit and a small jar with a golden lid, the faint scent of herbs already wafting from it.

“Whats that?” you asked, motioning towards it as Mor sat down.

“I stopped by Majda’s earlier,” Mor replied, grabbing the jar and offering it to you. 

You gingerly took it, running your fingers along the small glass. A healing balm, you gathered from the label, crafted and spelled to sooth the tenderness of injuries.  “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” she replied, fixing you with a look. She held her hand out in a silent request, and you granted it, placing the jar back in her soft palm.  “I ran into Adrin while I was there, too.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm. I think he has a crush.” 

Your brows furrowed. “On you?”

“No,” Mor laughed. “On you.” She twisted the lid off, the scent growing stronger, fresher. “This was practically free when I mentioned your name. He says hello, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes at the tone of her voice, at the small quirk in her lip.  “How generous of him.”

Adrin was one of Madja’s recent apprentices, a male from the Dawn Court. Over the past year, you’d developed a sort of friendship with him—inevitable, given how often you stopped by Madja’s for elixirs, balms, or to request healing for one of your family members. Adrin was sweet in a way that stood out, especially for someone of his stature and wealth. Humble, easy to talk to. You’d always enjoyed your small conversations with him, none of which had ever felt particularly flirtatious. 

But Mor liked to do this—tease you about romantic prospects where there were none.

“He seemed very sad to hear you were hurt,” she teased, dipping her fingers into the balm. “Here. Give me your hands.”

Reluctantly, you stretched out your hands, knuckles bruised and raw. She took them, her touch gentle as she worked the balm into your skin. It stung at first, then cooled, easing the ache. 

“He’s cute,” Mor said lightly, noting your silence.  “You should consider it.”

“Mhm,” you replied, not really listening. “Maybe.”

Mor glanced up at you, her hands pausing briefly before she resumed. “What are you thinking about?”

You shrugged and stared down at your hands, tracing the patterns of Mor’s thumbs as she smoothed over the worst of the bruising. “I don’t know. The whole thing, I guess.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t just beat them both.”

A small laugh slipped from you, unexpected. You were quite proud of how diplomatic you’d managed to be given the circumstances— though, you were sure diplomatic wasn’t the word Runa would use.

“I think,” you began, “I just figured it wasn’t worth it. At least with Selene, it wasn’t personal. There’s nothing I could’ve said to her that’d be worse than what I imagine she already tells herself. Runa just… said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”

Mor nodded with an amused smile, tilting your chin up with a finger so she could dab the balm along your jaw. On a hit you hadn’t even noticed until it started throbbing an hour later.

“Still. A listening charm is kind of insane,” she said. Her tone was measured, but you caught the edge of anger beneath it. “Can you imagine what else she could’ve heard?”

Your chest tightened. You nodded. Although not to the extent you might usually have, you had thought about it—the implications of the bracelet, the act Selene had committed, the idea Runa had planted. It was almost laughable. Your court was condemned for its supposed cruelty, led by a High Lord as infamous as Rhysand, yet citizens still felt emboldened enough to pull stunts like this. In any other court, Selene and Runa would’ve faced very different—more permanent—consequences.

“I don’t want to think about it too much,” you replied after a moment. “I’ll just get angry, and I’m kind of over that. It’s exhausting.”

“You’re better than me,” Mor muttered.

“Not really. I’m just tired.” You said simply. “Selene did a bad thing. She’s lucky it didn’t cause a serious disaster. I don’t feel the need to play the Mother’s role. Rhys will deal with her.”

Mor sat back, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “And in the meantime, I get pretty jewelry.”

You raised a brow. 

“What?” Her grin widened. “Like we told Rhys, it’s only a basic listening spell. If I’m in possession of both charms, and I’m not talking to you, then no one’s hearing anything.”

“And if you lose one?”

She raised an eyebrow, slowly twisting the cap back onto the jar. “I won’t,” she replied simply. And you knew that was the end of the conversation. Mor guided your head to the side, leaning in to inspect the cut across your cheek.

“That bitch got you good, though,” Mor muttered. She touched it gently, and you grimaced. “All this from that bracelet?”

“It was chunky,” you replied dryly. “And I think Runa split it open much further.”

Mor scowled. “If I see her, she's as good as d—”

“Mor.”

She sighed dramatically. “At least tell me you got her good.”

You gave her a look and her grin widened. “Gods, I love you,” she said, shaking her head. “You might be the most terrifying one of us all when you’re angry.”

A smile tugged at your lips, the faint pull of it brushing against the ache in your cheek. The sound of a laugh started to rise in your chest when a low voice cut through the moment.

“I would agree.”

You jumped, and your head snapped toward the doorway— where Azriel now stood. 

Your chest tightened at the sight of him, the moment’s levity collapsing under his presence. Instinctively, your eyes ran over him, taking in every detail. He looked tense, wings drawn in tight to his back, his posture stiff. Shadows hung close to him, unnervingly still. Disheveled, too—his hair was a mess and faint bruises bloomed along his face. His hands were hidden by his shadows, but you’d bet they bore the same marks as yours. Three officials, Feyre had said. You now knew the second. 

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Mor snickered beside you, drawing your attention just as her brows lifted in amusement. She turned away from him and faced you instead. “You hear that, Y/n? He’s sorry.”

You raised your own brows, gaze flicking back to him. “So those words do exist in your vocabulary.”

The bite didn’t feel as satisfying as it should have. It felt hollow, old. Azriel’s jaw tightened, his chest rising as he drew in a measured breath. After a moment, he stepped forward. His gaze lingered on you for another moment before he turned to Mor.

“May we have a moment alone?”

Mor’s eyes narrowed, the sharpness in her gaze dragging over him like a knife. She didn’t answer right away, looking back to you instead, searching your face for permission. Despite yourself, you gave her a small nod.

Her displeasure showed in the faint widening of her eyes, but she stood anyway, brushing her hand against yours in passing. Her touch was soft, careful not to press too hard against the bruises. “Love you,” she murmured. “Let me know if you need anything else tonight.”

You gave her a small smile, nodding again as she walked past Azriel. His shadows recoiled from her, drawing a dark outline along his arm. She casted one last glare over her shoulder.

“Idiot,” she muttered, loud enough for both of you to hear. Then she was gone.

The silence she left behind felt suffocating, a heavy thing that settled over the room. You avoided Azriel’s gaze, focusing instead on the healer’s kit sitting on the bedside table. You reached for it, but Azriel held up a hand to stop you.

“I can do it myself,” you said. 

“I know,” Az replied softly. “But let me. Please.”

You hesitated. He looked troubled, guilt heavy in his expression, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The conversation had been inevitable, long overdue. Might as well get it over with while he tended to the cut on your cheek.

Besides, you were too exhausted to care. 

“Fine.”

Azriel gave you a small, unsure smile—grateful, almost. He disappeared to the bathroom, and when he returned, he sat with a wet rag in hand.

You tried to hold on to your anger, to avoid his eyes, but your resolve began to falter the moment his shadows began to twist around your arms. They moved languidly, curling up your wrists and brushing your fingers as you played with your hands in your lap. You focused on them instead of him— on their quiet presence, the personality in them that so few ever noticed. You’d missed the way they felt like him.

Azriel began unpacking the kit—clean cloths, antiseptic. The smell made your nose scrunch. You took in the bruising on his face—on his cheek, a split near his eyebrow, even on his lip. Strange, strategically unplaced.

“What happened to you?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

“Cassian happened.”

And there it was— the third official. You wanted to probe for more details, were even tempted to make a joke out of his current appearance, but your irritation held you back. You stayed silent as he cleaned the wound, as he dried it. When he soaked another cloth with antiseptic, he looked at you.

“I owe you a big, proper apology.” 

You didn’t look at him, even as his words pulled at you. “Yeah.”

He paused— like he was thinking, like he was ashamed— and took a deep breath before he said, “Many, actually.”

You didn’t respond. You just nodded, watching him from the corner of your eye. When the cloth touched your cheek, you winced. He grimaced, eyebrows furrowing in apology.

“Sorry,” he murmured. 

Another pause. 

“You were right,” he said, his focus staying on your cheek. “And I should have listened to you.”

This time, the pull of his voice was strong enough to draw your attention. As he leaned closer to begin cleaning the cut, you studied his face—the sharp line of his jaw, the crease in his brow as he worked with precision. 

“I’m always right,” you muttered, and the words had more mirth than you’d expected. You supposed that was natural with Azriel, an instinct of sorts. Even when you were unhappy with him. “You’re going to have to be specific.”

Something softened in his expression—just for a second. But you saw it. You could’ve sworn you saw the faintest hint of a smile tug at his lips, heard a soft breath of amusement. His molten eyes met yours briefly.

“You were right about Selene.”

Your chest tightened. You didn’t know why, but his gaze burned. You couldn’t hold it for long and looked back down at your hands, letting the shadows weave between your fingers. You wondered what information Az knew— wondered who told him. If it was Mor who had talked to Cassian, if it was Cassian who then, in turn, had given Azriel the whole story. Had they fought beforehand? What for?

“I broke up with her,” Azriel added. “When I heard about what happened.”

You looked up, but Az’s gaze was no longer on you. “You did?”

He nodded. You tracked the bob in his throat as he swallowed. 

“There’s no coming back from what she did.”

Azriel set the cloth aside, carefully wiping away the excess antiseptic. He seemed unnervingly calm for the situation—for the invasion of privacy from someone he’d been intimate with. You’d expected something more. Anger like you’d seen with Eris, confrontation like he’d shown Lucien. But, instead, he was gentle. Maybe it should’ve bothered you, that he seemed so unphased at your current state. It didn’t. If anything, you were grateful. You would’ve been too tired to deal with anything else. 

You studied him closely. This side of him—tender, unguarded—wasn’t a side he let many see.

Your thoughts wandered back to Selene. It made sense, in a pathetic, strange way, why she might have done what she did. If she’d seen this side of him, this kindness, this care... how could she not have wanted to protect it? How could she not have gone to extremes to keep it?

You thought about it for a moment. Came to the realization that the love Azriel offered was probably worthy of madness.

“Because she spied on you?” 

It was a stupid question. But the urge to ask had persisted, so you voiced it anyway. Azriel stilled, his hand pausing mid-motion. Slowly, he turned to look at you.

“No,” he said, his voice softer. “Because she hurt you.”

His words landed with a force that sent your thoughts spiraling.

“Although,” Azriel added quickly, “The spying was definitely a dealbreaker.”

He was making a joke, you realized. Or a small attempt at one. And somehow, it settled something restless in your chest.

“She didn’t mean to,” you heard yourself say before you could stop it. 

The moment the words left your mouth, you cursed yourself. What the hell were you doing? You had no obligation. No reason. It was counterproductive, if anything. Rhys was bringing her in. You had every right to trash her, right here, to Azriel himself. To tell him over and over that you told him so.

But you didn’t. Maybe it was because she’d mattered to him—enough for him to trust her despite the flaws that had undone her. Even if that truth made your chest ache, you wanted him to make his decision with all the facts.

Your care for Azriel wasn’t something led by your pride.

“Selene didn’t mean to hurt me,” you said again, more certain this time. “It was an accident.”

His eyes softened as he observed you. You swallowed and shrugged. “Runa was the one who actually did.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azriel said. “You were in that situation because of Selene.”

A beat.

“Because of me.”

The air between you thickened. You tried to focus on anything else, anything but the way your chest tightened, the way your heart thudded faster than it should. But you couldn’t. Your eyes stayed locked with his.

You thought about the past week, how something had shifted between you. The distance that had grown, how long it had taken him to reach out.  Azriel was someone who didn’t apologize easily. You knew that. But it hurt in ways you didn’t expect because you’d always thought you were different. That your friendship, your bond, was worth the discomfort. 

You thought he’d make it right. That he wouldn't have let it fester for as long as he did, wouldn’t have felt comfortable leaving you simmering in your hurt. 

“Az?”

The name escaped your lips unguarded, and his face softened at the sound of it. His wings shifted too, just slightly, like tension bleeding out. You hadn’t said his name like that—without anger, without bitterness—for days.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you actually apologize earlier?”

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and his gaze flicked down, as if the answer was there, somewhere in the floor. “I—I didn’t know how.”

You let out a breath—annoyance, defeat, something too messy to untangle. “It’s actually really easy,” you muttered. “You just open your mouth and say the words ‘I’m sorry for being a dick.’”

There was a soft shuffle as Azriel leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He tilted his head, trying to meet your averted gaze.

“Y/n,” he said softly. “I’m sorry for being a dick.”

You let the words settle for a moment before sitting up straighter. Met his eyes once more. You raised a brow, unimpressed. “A bit late, don’t you think?”

Azriel didn’t move, his eyes meeting yours steadily. He was closer now—close enough that you could almost feel his presence like a tangible, heavy thing. His shadows stirred, curling around your fingers, then shifting toward his hand. They tangled between you both, like they were tying you together, threading through the space that separated you.

“It is,” Azriel said. He looked down the second his words hit the open air. It reminded you of repentance, like a sinner confessing to a priestess. His hands rubbed together before he clasped them into a fist, looking up again.

Even then, his thumbs kept moving, brushing over each other in a way that gave him away. He was nervous.

“I messed up,” he said. “I knew I did the minute I repeated what Selene told me. But I’d messed up so badly that I felt like an apology needed to be big enough to make up for it. I couldn’t think of anything.” He took a shallow breath. “I—I was embarrassed.”

You frowned.  For Azriel, who stood in front of you, unwavering in the face of so many enemies, embarrassment seemed almost foreign.

“Embarrassed?”

“Yes.” His voice was quiet as he admitted it.

“What could you possibly have to be embarrassed about?”

Azriel’s face shifted, his eyes looking almost vulnerable, wide open, like you could see everything. Even his shadows slowed to a faint crawl. They seemed to be waiting for something. You weren’t sure what.

“That you were right. I was changing. For her. And I did it on my own.”

“What?” You barely breathed out, confused. “Why?”

“I just…” He hesitated, his eyes lowering. “I thought it might be for the better. That maybe this relationship, maybe Selene, could mold me into something else, something more…” He trailed off.

“More what?”

“Something—someone, more easy to love.”

Your breath faltered, and for a second, everything froze— like the sheer sadness in his voice was enough to freeze time. And then you were flooded with emotions, each different from the one that came before. Confusion. Anger. Pity. Heartbreak. You felt a deep, hollow ache at the idea that he truly believed he needed to change to be loved. 

For the first time, you weren’t sure what the right thing to say was. If there was one at all. All you could do, in the most genuine tone you could muster, was say, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel’s gaze faltered, his expression shifting as though he wasn’t quite sure how to process your reaction. You glanced at his hands, pushing the rush of emotions back, then met his eyes again.

“You should never feel like you need to change. Not like that.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but his eyes softened, and you found yourself focusing on the crease between his brows. It made him look so tender. So young.

Finally, he spoke again. “I was having a bad day that night you came to talk to me. I didn’t realize how I’d hurt you. I thought I just pissed you off, that you were angry.”

“Well, you did piss me off,” you said, your anger bubbling up once more. His expression faltered slightly at that, but you continued, “I’m still angry. You were dismissive. You made me feel selfish, like I didn’t have the right to care about you.”

The words caught in your throat, threatening to stick, but you pushed them out. You’d spent centuries enduring criticism from males in Prythian politics—males who dismissed your input no matter how educated or experienced you were. You knew how to let their opinions roll off your back, not to let them settle. But you never thought Azriel would be the one to hurt you. Make you feel silly. Stupid. Small.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, and his eyes darted away as if he was trying to find the right words. “It was all so stupid. I can’t believe I entertained her ideas—that I let my desire to be needed make me accuse you of having ulterior motives when you were just being a good friend.”

A good friend.

That was exactly what you were trying to be—and yet, the word hurt you. It made you want to wince like you had when Azriel pressed that rag to your cut. You thought back, unwanted, to Selene’s words, and your chest tightened even more. 

Was it possible for the room to be losing air? Maybe that would explain the stupid decisions you’d been making. The thoughts you could feel in the back of your mind. A lack of oxygen to your brain.

“So why did you believe her?” you asked quietly. Your voice sounded more tired now. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted after a long pause. “It doesn’t change what I did. It was cruel. It belittled you. And I’m sorry.”

You stared at him, at the set of his shoulders, the faint downturn of his mouth. He was sincere—you could feel it in every word, in the way his eyes stayed fixed on you, like nothing else existed in the room. You didn’t think you’d ever had someone apologize like this before, so open and raw.

And yet, something inside you still simmered. The anger hadn’t disappeared. Not yet.

“Thank you,” you murmured, “For apologizing.”

Azriel didn’t move. He kept looking at you, really looking at you, and you felt pinned beneath the weight of his gaze. His eyes had more green than Cassian’s. It wasn’t something you usually noticed—how the colors shifted in the light, how clear and startling they seemed up close. Now, though, you couldn’t seem to stop noticing, like every detail of him was suddenly magnified.

You wanted to stay angry. You deserved to. He’d hurt you, and that kind of hurt didn’t just disappear because he finally decided to show up and say the right things. But then his gaze held yours a little too long, his voice a little too raw, and that tightrope you’d built for yourself began to fray.  A sharp sting of guilt came, and you couldn’t shake it—couldn’t shake the growing realization that maybe you didn’t want to be angry at him. Maybe it wasn’t even anger anymore.

You cleared your throat as Azriel shifted his attention back to the kit, his shadows curling and shifting behind him. He grabbed a few butterfly bandages, his voice quiet when he spoke.

“You’re better to me than I deserve,” he said, almost to himself. “I think I convinced myself that it was a matter of time until the ball dropped—until you realized I wasn’t worth this friendship. I thought I’d finally reached that point. I almost just laid down and accepted it.”

You frowned at his words. 

Azriel always carried that shadow of self-loathing like a second skin, like he couldn’t believe anyone could see him as more than his darkest thoughts. As much as you wanted to heal him, to assure him that none of it was true, you knew better. It hurt to know that, after everything, he still didn’t believe it. Because, the truth was, Azriel wasn’t hard to love. It wasn’t hard to support him, to be his friend. He had his moments, as anyone did, but he was always there. Which, you supposed, is why the way he treated you hurt in such a deep, unique way.

The thought that he’d believed, deep down, that your friendship—your loyalty—could be so easily withdrawn, made something inside you ache. Made you sad. Angry. 

“I take back what I said earlier,” you murmured. “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Azriel’s lips twitched as he searched your face for any hint of a joke. His shadows perched on the apex of his wings, watching you both. Then, when his lips curled, just slightly, they began to move once more. 

“I have my moments,” Azriel said, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips. He glanced at you, checking if it landed.  “Maybe one too many head injuries is getting to me.”

“Maybe,” you said, the hint of a smile brushing your lips. “In that case, we should keep an eye on Cassian.”

Azriel’s breath escaped in a quiet, almost relieved laugh.  He carefully removed the butterfly bandages from their small packs, the silence settling around you once more. But the air felt heavy, like there was something unspoken hanging between you. Like you needed to say something to rid yourself of the pressure in your chest. 

“You can’t just lay down and accept it, Az,” you said, your voice firm. His eyes snapped to yours. “That’s not what friendship is. Not ours.”

Azriel nodded, his expression softening. “I know. I’ll do better.” 

You smiled faintly, nodding back. Watching as he turned his attention back to the bandages on your cheek, you took a slow breath. His scent washed over you as he leaned in, familiar and warm. For a moment, you almost let yourself close your eyes, just to breathe him in further, to let his scent linger. Had it always been like this? Or had Selene’s words made you overanalyze everything?

“I was shocked when Cassian told me what happened. I can’t believe that while I was busy kicking myself for not doing anything, you were trying to talk to Selene. Trying to be kind. Do you realize how crazy that is?”

His words weren’t disbelief—they were awe. As if he couldn’t comprehend why you’d chosen the harder path, the path of peace. You could barely believe it yourself, sitting with a scratched-up face and a mind full of unwanted revelations. But in the end, it had been simple. 

You’d done it for Azriel. 

You’d found sympathy for her because of Azriel. You’d set aside your anger, your pettiness, because you valued your relationship with Azriel more. Even after everything, after the way he’d treated you, you still believed in him. Believed in his ability to know what he wanted.

“Your happiness was worth it,” you said finally. “I didn’t want to be the one to stand in the way of it. To make things hard.”

Azriel stopped at that, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel exposed in a way you’d never felt before with him. You shrugged it off, trying to play it cool, and added with a dry chuckle, “Also, I figured if I did the noble thing, I’d get to hold it over you for a few centuries.”

Azriel laughed—a genuine, rumbling sound. His shadows fluttered around him. “Yeah, well, you can. More than a few centuries, actually, because you came out with some battle scars.”

You almost spoke again, but the breath left your lungs as you felt his fingers gently press the butterfly bandages to your skin. It was almost funny to think about how angry you’d been—rightfully so. But now, with the feel of his hands on you, it all began to ease. A specific sense of healing, like the betrayal you’d felt—at least in part—was being mended. That Azriel tending to you now, with the soft touch he so rarely granted, proved that he didn’t mean to hurt you. That he did care. And maybe you could give him a little grace for being a flawed male.

When Azriel turned back to the kit, you touched your cheek, feeling the cut deeper than you expected. You hadn’t realized how long it was. Mor’s earlier reaction made more sense now.

Azriel glanced at the wound, then back at you, brow furrowing. “Is it okay?”

You nodded slowly, a soft breath escaping as you winced slightly. “Yeah, just tender. Thank you.”

He nodded in acknowledgment and moved to place the last bandage. And then, almost too quietly, he murmured, “I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am.”

“I know.” You hesitated before adding, “But you’re going to have to make it up to me. You know that, right? This wasn’t enough.”

Azriel steadied his gaze on you, leaning back to face you fully. Suddenly, you weren’t sure if anyone had ever looked at you properly. Not like this. Not as he said, “I will. I promise. In ways that are better than some baked goods.”

“Well… I wouldn’t mind some croissants. They looked good.”

Azriel chuckled. “Oh really?”

Soft tendrils of his shadows weaved around you as you nodded, biting back a smile at the tone of his voice. Something so lively. So Azriel. Although you were used to them, you resisted the urge to shiver as his shadows threaded through the ends of your hair. 

“That’s odd,” he said. “I seem to recall them looking untouched. Some even squished.”

The memory of how you’d grabbed the pastry in frustration, squeezing it in your hand, brought a small smirk to your face. You shrugged a little. “I was pissed. I couldn’t give in.”

“In that case, I’ll buy out the whole bakery.”

You rolled your eyes, but the hint of a smile was still there. It was probably obvious to Azriel.  “The Spymaster supporting local businesses by single-handedly buying out a local bakery. How noble.”

He smiled at that, his expression lighter now—boyish, amused. But his words were sincere. “Whatever you need me to do. I’ll do it.”

“And if I told you to swim naked in the Sidra at night, when it’s cold and snowy?”

“I’d ask Rhysand to make an order for all the children to stay inside.”

You laughed at the thought, and the atmosphere shifted. For the first time in a while, it felt like the world had stopped turning its back on you. The anger, the grudge you’d been cradling like a newborn babe, didn’t feel so heavy now. 

Azriel stood, folding the bandages and packing away the medical supplies, and you found yourself watching him without meaning to once more. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly… beautiful he was. There was something in the angle of his jaw, the way the light caught his features that made your breath suddenly catch. He was always handsome, of course, but this was different. 

A sudden wave of curiosity bubbled up inside you. Before you could second-guess yourself, you spoke.  You’d never noticed the sharpness of his eyes, the intensity in them, the way his wings twitched when his shadows curled against them.

“Can I ask you something?” 

He paused, looking down at you with that soft gaze. “Always.”

“Why did you want to change into someone more loveable? Why stay with Selene?”

Azriel’s eyes flickered away, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I… I think I was jealous.”

“Jealous?”

Azriel nodded. Something sad washed through him, made him blink, made his wings fall an inch closer to the ground. “Everyone around us is finding love. They’re starting new lives.”

Something sharp jabbed at you, a bitter feeling you didn’t quite understand. Was there something wrong with you for not feeling the same need to fall in love?

“I’m not,” you said. 

The expression that took over Azriel’s face was one you couldn’t describe, but there was a new kind of weariness in it. His lips parted as though to say something else, but instead, he simply shook his head with a small, wistful smile. “It’s only a matter of time, Y/n.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re you. You’re amazing. It’s only a matter of time until you fall for one of your many suitors.”

You furrowed your brow, a bitter taste now settling on your tongue. You didn’t respond— didn’t know how to.

Azriel’s eyes darkened for a brief moment, his jaw tightening, but then his face softened. He exhaled slowly. When he spoke, his voice was quieter than before. “I didn’t think I could handle being alone when you moved on, too.”

The way he said it, the weight of it, made something ache inside you, like a deep hollow was opening up in your chest. You swallowed hard, wishing for something—anything—to ease the growing pressure behind your ribcage.

You wanted him to tell you more, to say something that would make sense of all this. But you didn’t know how to ask for that, didn’t even know what you wanted him to say. 

“Because you don’t want to be the last one standing?”

The silence that followed was almost suffocating. Azriel’s shadows seemed to quiet around you both.

Then, he gave you a half-smile—sad, lopsided, but somehow more real than anything he’d shown you in a long time. Not for months. Not since he began dating Selene. 

“Something like that.”

Before you could dwell on his words, on why they made you feel sad, disappointed even, Azriel finished packing up the kit and turned toward you.

“All done,” he said.

You blinked, pulled out of your thoughts, and nodded. “Oh. Cool. Thank you.”

You looked down at your hands, your fingers brushing over the growing bruises on your knuckles. Your hair fell forward, partially hiding your face, and before you could move it out of the way, one of Azriel’s shadows darted forward, tugging at the strand. You glanced up as he gently called the shadow back with a subtle motion. 

“So... how do I look?” 

Azriel's eyes flicked over you, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he reached forward, his hand brushing that same strand of hair from your face.

“Tough,” he said, slowly moving the strand back. “I think the bandages really bring out your eyes.”

And even though he’d done it a million times before, as Azriel tucked your hair behind your ear, something inside you cracked right open.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Part Five

authors note:

tending to wounds scene!!! tending to wounds scene!! mor has both bracelets??!? az and selene are done?!?! he's being weirdly calm abt the whole thing?!?! reader is THINKINNN...

now begins the fun time of reader wanting to let az grovel (bc he has entered his groveling era) but also overthinking everything and wanting him to just....go away. also fun time of reader having to prove to everyone that despite things she may...or may not... feel, her intentions with Az were neverr driven jealousy hehe

so fun!!! i have some fun ideas guys. thank yall for reading <3 i wonder if you can guess what might happen.... there are a few hints

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@marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered 

@feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @azrielrot @justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli 

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[tender-rosiey]

Hey I want to request a husband!gojo getting his wisdom teeth pulled out and he is high af from the anesthesia. I just imagine him forgetting everything and starts acting dumb. This would be huge blackmail material for nobara and megumi lol

peacock — gojo satoru x f!reader

as soon as you step into the recovery room, the sight of him almost makes you burst out laughing. satoru is slouched in the chair, limbs draped over the sides, his usual composed demeanor replaced with utter disarray.

his eyes, free of his blindfold, are dazed and unfocused, those brilliant blue irises practically swimming in confusion.

his cheeks are puffed out comically with gauze, and he’s staring up at the ceiling like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

when his eyes eventually find you, they widen dramatically, his entire face lighting up like he’s just seen a miracle.

"oh. my. god," he gasps, his voice muffled by the cotton stuffed in his mouth, but his tone is thick with awe and disbelief. “you’re... you're an angel. a real one.”

you bite your lip, barely managing to stifle the laughter bubbling up. “satoru, it’s me,” you say, moving closer to him.

he squints at you, leaning forward so far that he nearly tips over, his eyes narrowing as he’s trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. “wait... we know each other?”

you fight back a smile. “I’m your wife.”

there’s a beat of silence before his eyes widen again, and he jerks back so dramatically that the chair creaks beneath him.

“wife? no way!” he grips the armrests with exaggerated strength, staring at you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you. “are you serious? we’re married? to each other?”

you giggle as you nod, “for a while now.”

he slumps back, his head rolling to the side with a long, exaggerated groan. his entire body sinks into the chair.

“wow. I did it. I really did it,” he says, staring up at the ceiling again, his eyes unfocused and dazed. “I married the hottest person in the universe. I win at life.”

your lips twitch into a grin, watching him bask in his drugged-out epiphany. “you sure did,” you say, unable to stop yourself from laughing softly.

you move to help him up, sliding your arm around his waist as he wobbles to his feet, legs unsteady like a baby giraffe taking its first steps.

but as you start guiding him toward the door, he plants his feet firmly on the ground, stopping you with a wild-eyed, serious expression. “wait, wait, wait,” he says, his hand reaching out to grab yours with surprising urgency.

his fingers are warm, clumsy in their grip, but there’s an intensity in his gaze that, even through the haze of anesthesia, is so satoru.

his face is scrunched up in deep thought, brows furrowed as though he’s wrestling with the most critical question of his life. “I need to know something... something important.”

you raise an eyebrow, watching him try to focus, his blue eyes narrowing. “okay, what is it?”

“do we... do we kiss?”

you can’t help it—this time, you let out a snort of laughter. “yes, satoru, we kiss. all the time.”

he blinks slowly, his mouth hanging open in awe, eyes sparkling with newfound wonder.

“no way! I knew it. I’m so good at kissing, aren’t I?” he beams, his prideful grin exaggerated by the swollen cheeks, making him look utterly ridiculous. “I knew I was a natural.”

you chuckle, shaking your head as you tighten your hold on him, guiding him toward the exit. “you’re definitely something,” you mutter under your breath.

but, of course, satoru has no intention of walking in a straight line, let alone staying quiet. he stops again, turning his head to you with a deeply perplexed look, like he’s trying to unravel the mysteries of the universe.

“wait… wait… there’s these kids,” he says, gesturing wildly, nearly knocking the clipboard off the counter.

“they’re always hanging around. the loud pink-haired one, the grumpy one, and the one who keeps yelling. who are they? why are they always following me?”

you sigh through a laugh, shaking your head as you guide him forward. “those are your students, satoru. yuuji, megumi, and nobara.”

his face lights up with recognition—or something close to it. “yuuji! yeah, yeah, the kid who talks to everything. I like him. he’s my pokemon.”

you snicker, struggling to keep him upright as he sways like he’s on a boat in the middle of a storm. “he is your student, not a pokemon,” you remind him gently.

he waves his hand dismissively. “nah, nah, he’s my pokemon.”

you shake your head, unable to stop smiling. “sure, satoru. whatever you say.”

“and megumi!” satoru perks up again, his eyes sparkling. “my little emo sunshine. I keep trying to make him smile, but it’s, like, so hard. do you think he’s broken?”

his voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, leaning closer to you. “should we fix him?”

you let out a small laugh, trying to keep him from stumbling as you approach the door. “I think megumi’s just fine, satoru.”

satoru gasps, clutching at your arm. “don’t tell me... he’s also your best friend? is he my rival?”

before you can respond, the door to the recovery room swings open, and standing in the hallway are yuuji, nobara, and megumi.

nobara is the first to spot satoru, her eyes widening before she bursts into uncontrollable laughter, clutching her stomach as she doubles over.

“oh my god, this is amazing!” nobara cackles, already pulling out her phone and aiming the camera at satoru. “I’ve been waiting for this day my entire life.”

yuuji grins widely, waving enthusiastically. “sensei! you okay?”

satoru beams at the sight of yuuji, grinning so wide that his swollen cheeks puff out even more.

“yuuji! my pokemon!” he tries to wave but nearly tips over, forcing you to steady him with both hands. “I missed you, man! when did you get here?”

yuuji looks bewildered for a moment. “pokemon?”

nobara is still laughing uncontrollably, already typing on her phone with one hand while recording with the other. “fushiguro, please tell me you’re getting this. this is gold!”

megumi, for his part, just stands there with his arms crossed, a sigh escaping his lips. but you can see the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth, a rare sign of amusement.

meanwhile, satoru is now waving his arms around excitedly, turning back to yuuji. “we should totally start a band! you play drums, and I’ll sing. we’ll call it...gojo and the gojos!”

yuuji blinks in surprise, his jaw dropping slightly. “uh, what?”

nobara howls with laughter, her camera still rolling. “oh my god, this is going in the group chat. no, actually, this is going everywhere.”

megumi shakes his head, his expression caught between amusement and exasperation. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he mutters.

you sigh, shaking your head fondly at the absolute circus unfolding around you. “alright, superstar,” you say, gently pulling satoru toward the exit, “let’s get you home before you say anything else you’ll regret.”

satoru grins, his eyes half-lidded but still full of wonder, like he’s just discovered something miraculous. “home? with my wife? yes, please. best. day. ever.”

as you manage to pull satoru a few steps closer to the door, his weight leaning heavily against you, he suddenly halts.

you glance at him, bracing yourself for another round of his ridiculous, anesthesia-fueled revelations, but nothing—nothing—could prepare you for what comes next.

“wait,” he says, his voice low and serious, as if he's about to share the most critical, world-altering secret.

his glassy eyes look at you intensely, filled with wild determination. “I need to do something important before we leave.”

you blink at him, confused. “satoru, what could you possibly—”

before you can finish your sentence, he dramatically pulls away from you, somehow managing to stand on his own. with the grace of a baby giraffe on ice, he wobbles toward the center of the room, ignoring your protests.

“satoru—”

he shushes you loudly, a single finger pressed to his lips as he glances over his shoulder, his expression way too serious for someone who can’t walk straight.

“shhh. this is between me and the universe.”

you exchange a bewildered look with yuuji, who’s still watching in awe, nobara recording every second, and megumi now sighing deeply, clearly bracing himself for whatever absurdity satoru is about to unleash.

then, with absolutely no warning, satoru starts unbuttoning his shirt.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" you yelp, rushing forward to stop him, but you’re too late.

he rips his shirt open dramatically, buttons flying everywhere, revealing his bandaged, puffy cheeks, along with his very confused, bare chest.

“satoru—oh my god—”

but he’s not done. no, of course he’s not. he thrusts his arms out to the side, chest puffed out proudly, and yells at the top of his lungs:

“I AM A PEACOCK, WATCH ME SOAR!”

the room falls into stunned silence for a moment. nobara freezes mid-recording, mouth hanging open in disbelief, while yuuji’s jaw drops, eyes wide with sheer awe.

megumi, however, just buries his face in his hands.

“I cannot believe I know this man,” megumi mutters under his breath, his tone one of deep regret.

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