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jacaerysgf · 10 months ago

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Distractions

Summary: Despite how close the two of you are you're sick of waiting around for Jace no matter how much you like him, so you decide you’re going out on a date! but he doesn't like that.

r.q: childhood friends to lovers with modern frat boy Jace and he's like rlly popular and known to go from girl to girl. reader is like really smart and different from Jace so people get surprised when they find out you two are really close. Jace is always dragging you to parties and you’re always at his football games and he gets really protective over you. idek where im going with this 😭 but w smut too, your fics are acc amazing ty for your work 🙏

w.c: 2.5k

c.w: reader has hair (unspecified type, could be a wig wtv), Jace's anger issues, idk what locker rooms look like, cregan <3, fingering (f!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys), not proofread (as always)

a.n: I CANT STOP WRITING FOR JACE every request of him i get becomes my priority, literally when i woke up and saw this i had to get to writing it immediately like there’s smth wrong w me, anyways hope you all enjoy <3, this ones probably not my best T_T

Knocking on the door cuts through the music playing out of your speaker while your getting ready. “Come in.” you already know who it is. Your longtime best friend and housemate Jace who comes in with a smile on his face before it turns to shock as he looks you up and down, “woah.”

You finish clamping your necklace around your neck and look at him, “what do you want?” He leans against the door with his arms crossed with an amused look. you ignore how your heart flutters at him and turn away to adjust the dress you currently had on. “i just wanted to tell you im about to head out for the game, its a little odd to get all dressed up for a football game no?” The looks falls from his face as you drop your gaze from his in the mirror and fiddle around with your hair. he says your name breathlessly as he pushes away from the frame and takes a step into the room. You finally lift your head and meet his gaze in the mirror. “I'm not going to the game tonight Jace.”

He flinches as if you had thrown something at him and stutters for a moment his face covered in pure confusion as he brings one of his hands to his neck. “what do you mean you're not coming? you always come! if this is about me eating your leftovers then im sorry i thought you left it for me-” “i have a date.”

There it is. You didn't want to tell him. Hes always been, well a little protective of you, but you mostly blame it on your introverted personality while he's more of a people person. Youve had a crush on him for as long as you can remember but he's never been interested in you not the way you wanted him to be anyways, barely staying single or without a girl on his arm for a second you don't even know the girls names or maybe that's the point. He doesn't bring them around you but you know he's with them when he returns home super late with his hair all messed up. You fear he does it on purpose, he must know you like him and he doesn't bring them around you to make you upset.

You really didn’t want to tell him. You had thought maybe he would have just left for the pregame and just shot you a text and you could have faked some sickness or have pretended to go to sleep early. You walk over to your bed sit down grabbing your shoes to put them on. His silence is off putting. and you don’t dare raise your head to look at him.

“with who?” “This guy from lab, mark.” you finish lacing your shoes and stand up, finally looking at him and noticing the blank look on his face. “Jace-” “I don’t like this. i mean i don’t even know the guy how do we know he’s not some serial killer or something? Mark? Why don’t you just push it off for a couple days, come to the game and ill find out if he’d a good guy-” “I'm going whether you like it or not.” you cut him off. You couldn’t let him stop you from forgetting about him even if it was just for a bit. You grab your purse moving to push past him only for him to grab your arm. “Jace-” “You look beautiful.” The skin where he was holding you burns. You don't say anything as he lets you go and keeps his back turned to you. “text me?”

You try to ignore the pit that forms in your stomach at his sudden change of tone. you want to say something to him, you’re not used to seeing him like this. he would usually be pestering you about how you he asked you out or did you really like him but he was quiet. The sound of a horn outside brings you back to reality and you nod at his back as if he could see you and walk out. Putting on a fake smile as your handed a nice bouquet of flowers from mark, gulping to try and swallow the pit in your stomach.

—

“who the hell does this guy think he is?” His fist slams into the wall of lockers he's pacing in front of. All his gear is put on, his helmet is laying on the bench next to cregan who can only watch his best friend act like an idiot with an annoyed face. “Who the hell are you to care? Her boyfriend? No. So you have no say in it.” Jace bites his nails as he ignores the urge to hit the wall once more. “she’s my best friend.” “and? shouldn’t you be happy she’s on a date with this guy. i like mark he’s nice. what you like her or something?”

Jace ignores how is blood boils at the idea of you now sitting in your pretty dress smiling and giggling at some other guy that's not him. that doesn’t mean he likes you…. Jace attempts to come up with an excuse in his head about why he's so upset and why he's always been so upset over you going out with other guys, he usually just tells himself he's all worried about you and then he finds some girl to take you off his mind for the night…. that doesn't mean he likes you.

Cregan watches with a raised brow as Jace has an internal conflict with himself. He expected Jace to turn to him and admit it but all he does is grumble to himself and grab his helmet walking away from him. “I don't like her.” Cregan just shakes his head and picks up his own helmet following after him, “that fucking idiot.”

—

Mark is nice. Hes cute. He told you you could order anything you wanted off the menu since he was paying. He pays attention to you when you talk. Hes not Jace. You try your best to not think about him but you can’t help it. You wonder how the game is going, you’ve never missed one of his games. Maybe you pushed it too far and should have scheduled this date for a different day, but you know if you did Jace would have managed to convince you not to go and you would have fallen into the same cycle you always do. You nod your head and hum as mark tells you some story as you phone begins to buzz. You ignore it but it just keeps on buzzing to the point even mark looks concerned. “You can check it i don’t mind, ill use the restroom.”

You let out a hushed thank you as you check you phone to see what looked like a million texts from cregan.

‘hey i know the two of you are like fighting or wtv but you gotta see him asap.’

‘never seen him lose his mind like that’

‘got himself hurt’

‘nothing too bad but he’s bleeding’

‘know he thinks it cost us the game’

‘now he wont talk to any of us not even me’

‘think his head wasn’t in it’

‘know it’s not my place but he likes you so much’

‘losing his fucking mind over you not being here and being on some date’

‘please, for his sake at least try to talk to him, know you’re busy sorry to bother but I'm worried for him’

You stand out of your seat in shock as your heart begins to race. He was hurt? He likes you? Mark hadn’t come back yet so you open your purse and throw down some bills before running out of the restaurant. You sprint your way back to campus where the field was, thankfully living in a college town meant everything being super close by, you cant hear anything other than your own racing heart and the sounds of your feet as they slam on the floor.

You slam the hallway door open and cregan and some other guys look at you in shock. You stand there and take some steps towards cregan barely being able to catch your breath. Cregan stands up and looks at you shocked, “You ran here?” You just nod as you look at him expectantly, “where is he?” He uses his thumb to point behind him to the locker room doors, “Completely alone, everyone's already left.” You nod as the guys wish you good luck and leave.

You just stare at the doors for a moment, clarity finally hitting you as you realize how ridiculous it was you just left your date and ran all the way here. You couldn't just ignore cregans message. Pushing open the door its dead quiet other than the sound of running water. You walk slowly into the room the door closing behind you louder than you expected causing you to wince before you call out his name. He doesn't answer so you walk around the wall to where the showers were and you can see him outlined in the curtain and almost gasp but you cover your mouth to prevent anything from coming out.

“Jace?” His head finally snaps up due to your voice being so close and he looks in your direction, calling out your name softly in question. “I’m here.” “What are you doing here?” He turns off the shower and you turn your back incase he stepped out of the shower. You attempt to suppress the heat and want that fills your body as you imagine him naked before shaking your head, “Cregan texted, i was worried about you.” He just hums. You wish you could see his face but you hear the curtain open and the sound of him stepping out. “What about your date?”

You freeze as you clutch your purse tighter in your hands as you let out a deep breath. “What about it?” Hes suddenly standing so close to you you can feel his breath tickling your back and you gulp. “You’re here and not there, why?” One of his hands slides down your arm to grab your clenched hand as his forehead hits your shoulder, he's takes a deep breath as he awaits your answer. “Does it matter?” You don't want him to ask because you don't want to have to answer him. you don't want to have to admit to yourself you just wanted to be with him and nobody else.

“You wanna know why it matters? Because i was so fucking mad that you weren’t here i threw the fucking game and hit my head. because nobody makes me lose my mind like you do. Needed you here and you weren’t. You were out with some stupid fucking guy and i was so pissed.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder and you try to suppress the whimper that climbs its way up to your throat. “What are you saying Jace?”

His hands move to wrap around your waist and his head moves to your neck, You can feel his wet naked chest soaking the back of your dress and the heat of his breath on your neck “You know what, That i would go find a new girl to fuck because i couldn’t have you, that i think about you all the time because i like you so much, that it makes me sick when i think about you with a guy that's not me.” He begins to suck at your neck and you now do nothing to hold back the moan you let out as his grip moves to your hips pulling you back against him closer. “You mean it?” His hands slide down to the hem of your dress and he slides his hands under it and upwards pulling your dress up to poll around your hips, “of course i do baby, can i touch you?”

You let out a strained please and he pushes your underwear aside to run a finger down your slit letting out a groan, “fuck..” He quickly sticks two fingers into you and you fall back against him, withering under his touch as he moves at a rough pace, clearly very eager to please you and his other hand comes down from your hips to play with your clit. Your knees almost buckle from the amount of pleasure but he keeps you pressed tightly against him curling his fingers.

You swear he has magic powers because as you were right about to cum he pulls out of you and you whimper. He chuckles at your reaction and twists you around to face him, “want you to come around me.” He pulls you into a heated kiss as you two frantically pull off your dress, kicking it to some random corner of the locker room along with your underwear. “I don't have a condom.” You hear him swear and mumble to himself but you cup his cheeks to stop him, “I'm on the pill.” “It’s not the same-” “what are you not clean?” “of course i am-” “Then fuck me Jace.” He looks in your eyes for any signs of hesitation and when he doesn't find any he quickly pushes himself into you.

You feel like you can’t breathe, he pushes you against a nearby wall and feverishly pounds into you as his hands move to play with your tits. Hes talking but you can’t decipher what he’s saying so lost in your own pleasure. “fuck you feel so good fuck.” You tug on his hair and pull him to kiss you, your on the brink of release as the feeling of his thumbs rubbing on your nipples and the combination of the millions of emotions racing around you. You grip on his hair tightly and he groans, “You close?” You nod you head, “Wait for me.” You open your mouth to complain but his hips begin to move faster and his hands move to your hips to slam you closer to match his thrusts. “Want to come together.” His words are slurred as he’s approaching his release. Your hands scratch down his back as he groans in your ear, taking your ear and sucking on it.

“Come.” He breaths in your ear and you do, he hisses as he feels you pulse against him, your fluid completely covering him and he cant help but follow suit. He kisses you running his hands down your arms. As the two of you settle down he makes no move to pull out of you, seeming content within you.

“I'm gonna get a fucking earful from cregan.”

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benjinotes · 7 months ago

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𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 - benjicot blackwood (fancast)

summary: the last thing you expected while coming to your brother's football game was to catch the attention of one of his teammates.

pairings: benjicot blackwood x fem reader

warnings: juicy, whipped benji, little mentions to gore, overprotective older brother(mentions only), modern au, sweet reader, too much fluff. aged up reader. aged up benji.

n/a: idk anything about american football, Jacaerys is a Strong/Targaryen.

wc: 4k+

don’t translate without my permission !

The noise of excited shouts was one of the only things Benjicot could hear outside the locker room, mixed with the distant sound of laughter and lively conversations, all echoing indistinctly, as he took another long drag on his cigarette.

Taking his phone out of his pocket and checking the time, he saw that he still had about 45 minutes before he needed to enter the locker room and prepare for the game. Despite this, the anxiety inside him continued to build, making it hard for him to stay calm.

It was the first game of the season for Benji and one of the most important of the championship. However, the time he had spent away due to a foolish fight had left him a bit rusty and out of sync on the field, and despite the extensive training he had undergone in recent weeks, he still struggled, which not only made him anxious but also extremely angry.

The fight with Aeron Braken, the Greens center, had not only been ugly and bloody but also extremely difficult for the coach and his teammates to forgive him for it. Braken’s broken nose had resulted in Benji being suspended during summer training and the early games of the season. Nevertheless, Benji did not regret his actions, believing that Aeron’s stupidity had forced him to react the way he did.

Still, he couldn't bear to deal with the consequences of his own actions. Almost being expelled was a tough blow to take, and the ways he found to vent his frustration were anything but healthy and cool. However, what really left him with a sour taste in his mouth was the fact that all of his teammates looked at him with disappointment after the fight plus the game he made them lose. Those looks came back even stronger during the stern lecture that followed in the locker room.

Benjicot still remembered the long and stern lecture given to him by the team's coach, Harwin. He swore that this was one of the rare occasions when he had seen the coach so enraged, not only because of the defeat but also because of the frequent conflicts in which Benjicot was involved. However, deep down, he understood the source of Coach Strong's anger. After all, that had been the last game of the season, and Benjicot had ended the team's chances of victory against their biggest rivals.

Plus, if any of his teammates had behaved similarly, Benji himself would not hesitate to direct his frustration towards at them. So he was no one to judge the cold attitude his teammates and coach had towards him.

After taking one last drag from his cigarette, Benjicot threw it to the ground, crushing the butt with force and irritation while letting out a sigh full of frustration and nervousness, allowing his eyes to wander over the dimly lit parking lot, taking in the sparse activity around. It was then that he noticed your figure wich seemed out of place as you looked around with a confused and uncomfortable posture, causing him to furrow his brows in questioning before heading towards the figure with curiosity.

He had never seen you before around college, let alone at the football stadium, and observing your posture and the way your eyes moved around the parking lot, as if searching for something or someone, it was clear to him that you were clearly not a common stadium visitor, or at least not that one specifically.

Even so, as he approached you, Benjicot's gaze was irresistibly drawn in your direction. The parking lot lights illuminated your pretty, delicate face, highlighting your big, confused eyes, which seemed a little brighter than usual. Every detail of yours left Benjicot a little perplexed, making him blink hard to regain the concentration that you had snatched from him without realizing it, yet he just continued to walk towards you, a little more enthusiastic than before.

However, he couldn't help but notice that you were carrying a large training bag, just like the one he had left in the locker room before going out to smoke. This made him frown even more, a little confused and somewhat disconcerted, since he knew all of his teammates' girlfriends, and if you had been introduced to him, he would certainly have remembered.

“Hey!” Benji called as he approached you, a smirk forming on his lips when he saw you jump in surprise at his sudden appearance. He couldn’t help but notice how your lips parted in surprise, adding an extra layer of charm to your reaction.

You quickly turned toward the voice and gave a small, polite smile in his direction. "Oh, hey!" You replied softly, and the boy's smirk grew at the sound of your voice, causing him to tilt his head in an almost imperceptible movement towards it.

Benjicot took the opportunity to look at you closely, noticing how your cheeks were flushed from the night cold, contrasting with the red tip of your nose, which made you even more beautiful. He also noticed the way your beautiful hair was gently blown by the wind and the delicate necklace around your neck with a letter, probably your initial. However, what caught his attention most was the smile you had on your face, which seemed more genuine than a simple polite smile.

He scratched his throat almost gently. "Are you lost?" He asked curiously, shifting his gaze to the bag in your hand.

The question made you sigh while making an upset grimace, and Benjicot had to bite his tongue hard at the sight. He had no idea what was happening to him, but at least the metallic taste in his mouth was helping him to concentrate. "I think so." You admitted softly, and Benji nodded, waiting for you to continue.

"I came to bring my brother's training bag, but I don't know where he is." You continued, and he almost sighed in relief when he heard the word "brother" instead of "boyfriend."

Still, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable knowing that you were the sister of one of the guys on the team, but that you had never spoken to him before or even met him.

Perhaps it was a stupid mindset, but he couldn’t shake the feeling nonetheless.

"What's your brother's name?" Benjicot asked, trying to sound soft, but his tone still came out a bit rude, which made him scratch his throat again. "Maybe I can help you. I'm a football player too." He admitted, this time ignoring the tone of his voice and giving a smirk at your relieved expression.

“Really?” You asked, relieved, as you saw him nod. “I’m looking for Jacaerys Strong; he’s my brother!” You said with a small smile. You couldn’t help but notice that his face seemed to grow a bit paler, which made you furrow your brows in concern.

Benjicot blinked, surprised. Jacaerys was not only his teammate but also one of the players who had been most upset with him after the big fight. Moreover, he was Coach Strong's son. The realization that you were Jacaerys’s sister—and thus possibly the coach’s daughter—caused a slight discomfort in Benji’s stomach, making him feel uneasy. Although he didn't know why.

"Oh yeah, don’t worry." He said after a short time of silence, scratching his throat and ignoring your worry. "If you want, I can give it to him." Benji offered to help, slightly uneasy, but the corners of his mouth curled up as you grinned relieved.

"That would be great, thank you so much," you said, giving him another warm smile as you handed over the bag gently. You didn’t notice how Benji seemed to hold his breath when your delicate hand made brief contact with his rough one. "You have no idea how much this helps me. I should already be with my mother and stepfather by now, and I was getting really anxious trying to find my brother or dad"

Dad. Benjicot swallowed hard at that word but tried to keep his posture straight. "I understand; there's no need to worry." He said he was trying to hide his nervousness. "You can go to your family now." Benjicot spoke, although he didn't want your short conversation to end. However, he knew that sooner or later he would have to get dressed for the warm-up before the game.

You nodded."Anyway, thanks again...?" You stretched out your hand, hoping he would say his name.

"Benjicot, Benjicot Blackwood...?" He asked back, reaching out his hand to shake yours as gently as possible. A shiver ran down the back of his neck when he felt your touch, and he gave a satisfied smile when he heard his name. Trying to ignore the mention of your last name, Strong, at the end.

"Well, have a good game!" you said with a small, gentle smile and a small blush on your cheeks after a few moments of silence, gently withdrawing your hand. He gave a soft, contained laugh, though he clearly missed the warmth of your touch.

"Thank you," Benjicot replied, gently squeezing the training bag between his fingers. "I'll see you after the game." He said it without thinking, but you were already heading towards the stadium. He took a deep breath before turning around and heading towards the changing rooms with his heart racing, but this time not with nervousness.

— — —

It had been a few days since Friday's game, and in that time, Benjicot and you hadn't exchanged any words, which left him frustrated in a way. Since your meeting, Benjicot has started seeing you everywhere at the university, something that hadn't happened before. But now, you always seemed to be there almost everywhere he went, looking at him from afar, sending sweet smiles his way, and waving to greet him, and he felt stupid for not having noticed you sooner.

Benji couldn't concentrate on anything because of this, which made him even more restless. With each training session, his frustration accumulated, and he became more aggressive in exercises and in disputes on the field. Your smiling face and constant presence, even from a distance, moved him in a way he couldn't explain. He tried to focus on his training and academic tasks, but his mind always returned to you, distracting him in a way that left him a little disconcerted.

He felt sick about having an interest in his coach's daughter, but he couldn't help it. Your presence almost left him mesmerized and even a little dazed. At that point, it was too late to turn back, and he knew he couldn't go back, not when you had already infested his every thought and not when you looked so beautiful sitting on the café terrace across the street.

He swore he had forgotten the right way to breathe when his eyes met yours, and without wasting any time, he walked over to your table.

"Hi." He greeted you as he sat across from you, his heart fluttering when you smiled too softly.

"Hi, Benjicot." You greeted back, looking at him over your laptop, and he tilted his head a little when you said his name.

"Call me Benji or Ben." Benji said casually as he took a cigarette out of his jacket. You nodded. "What are you doing there?" He asked, pointing his chin at his laptop, more interested in hearing you talk than knowing the answer.

“Nothing special, to be honest.” You replied softly, giving a light cough when Benji took the first drag of his cigarette, which caused him to put it out immediately. “It’s just my final project for literature class.” You frowned a little as you spoke, which made Benji chuckle. However, he quickly composed himself when the waitress came over to take their order.

"Congratulations on winning Friday's game." You said, taking a sip from your drink. He blushed slightly as he heard your, and you smiled a little when you noticed, prompting him to take a sip of his beer to cover it.

"Thanks." He said proudly, knowing that he had been one of the reasons the team had won, as he had scored a touchdown in the second half and another in the second half. "It was my first game after being suspended." He admitted it, almost widening his eyes when he saw that he had let that information slip.

"I know," you said, giving him a smile. He bit his cheek once again, trying to understand why he felt so nervous about the soft look you were giving him. "Cregan told me about the fight during summer training," you admitted, and Benji grimaced at that.

He wasn't jealous of Cregan; quite the contrary, Cregan was a good friend and was already dating his youngest aunt, Alysanne. However, Benji was furious that he had missed the opportunity to meet her earlier. He still didn't know if he wanted to punch Bracken again for causing this loss or if he regretted his own impulsive temper that led him to this. Either way, frustration was evident in his expression.

When you realized he wasn't going to speak, you leaned forward a little in an attempt to break the silence, and Benji couldn't help but take a discreet look at your chest. "Well, if it's any consolation, my brother said that guy deserved the punch." You admitted it, and Benji looked into your eyes, a little surprised.

"What? Wait? Seriously?" He asked at once, and a good feeling passed through his chest as you giggled. Fuck, you looked pretty.

“Yes, he did,” you replied, and once again, confusion crossed his face. The day that fight happened, Jacaerys had been furious with him. Jacaerys was probably one of those who bothered him the most during the entire situation. Although before he hadn't minded so much, knowing that his brother considered it deserved now made him, in a way, calmer.

"Did your father say anything?" Benji asked hesitantly, but you just shook your head. "And what did you think of that?" He found the courage to ask, not knowing for sure if he wanted the answer.

You put the drink on the table calmly and looked at him for a few seconds, creating a silent tension that made him anxious. Before he could react, you took his rough hand in both of yours and said, with disarming sincerity, "I don't think anything about the fights, but I enjoy your company." He scratched his throat with his free hand, visibly surprised and a little disconcerted, and then intertwined the fingers of his other hand with yours. The unexpected gesture made his face flush, causing a feeling of warmth to take over his body.

"I also enjoy your company." He admitted it without any shame, giving your hand a squeeze. "I hope we can meet more often," he said, and he smiled when he saw your flushed face.

Laughing softly, still blushing, you replied, "I don't think that's going to be a problem, Benji." He couldn't help but feel his heart beat faster at the way you said his name.

— — —

Over the next few weeks, you and Benji met up more times, not only at the little cafe near the university but also in other places outside the university campus, causing you to get closer and closer, and this time, instead of staying distracted during games and training due to your influence, Benji became even more focused, but his mind was constantly thinking about you.

Benjicot was enveloped in an unsettling certainty: he was in love with you. This realization disturbed him, yet it did not come as a surprise. After all, it was entirely natural to fall for someone like you. Your sweetness pierced through the most violent and unpleasant facets of his personality, and despite that, you embraced him completely without judgment. This led him, almost unconsciously, to walk in love with you.

Falling in love seemed like a feeble concept to him, and he knew that such a mundane term could not capture what he felt for you. So he didn’t merely fall towards you; he walked with each step almost unconsciously, yet fully aware of his ultimate destination: you, and only you.

He knew that, by now, your brother was already aware of what was happening between you two. The way Jace observed him in the locker room made this clear, and even though he had known Jace for some time, he feared that he, like your brother, would not accept whatever both of you had.

However, Benji was determined to reveal his feelings to you, and perhaps that was precisely the reason why his hands were so sweaty at that moment as he waited for you in the same parking lot where he saw you for the first time.

He swore he could throw up at any moment, and the fact that you were taking longer than usual made him uneasy, afraid that for the first time you would dump him. He was more nervous than his game night.

So when he looked up, his heart almost came out of his mouth as he saw you walking towards him clumsily, the cold coat covering you all over, and he swore you looked more beautiful than the day before.

"I'm really sorry. I had to take Luke to class, and then I got stuck in traffic." You started, but before you had finished speaking, Benjicot stood in front of you, holding you in his arms with such gentleness. that made your heart beat loudly.

"I'm in love with you," he said bluntly, looking at you with intense determination but a nervous posture. You opened your mouth, too stunned by the sudden confession.

To say you were surprised was an understatement; you were completely stunned by the confession, even though you realized the clear feelings that Benji had for you. He always showed special care, treating her with attention that stood out from the way he interacted with others. He opened doors, pulled out chairs, and gave subtle compliments—small gestures that revealed his dedication. However, you never expected this intensity to be exposed so directly.

Yet, despite the shock, you weren't dissatisfied. In fact, this intensity of his was one of the reasons why you liked him so much.

"What?" You managed to ask, and Benjicot blinked slowly before moving even closer to your body.

“I’m in love with you,” he repeated, his heart beating in tune with yours. "I spend every day thinking about you. Damn, I'm pretty sure you're the first thing I think about when I wake up." He licked his lips, closing his eyes briefly to hide his nervousness.

"I never believed in all that shit about good luck charms, but ever since you came into my life, everything started going right for me. I play better; I'm calmer. Shit, I even stopped smoking so much because of you." He admitted it, and you felt your eyes begin to water at the confession.

"Please tell me something," Benjicot pleaded softly, anxiety evident in his voice. The silence that followed his confession seemed like an eternity to him, and worry was beginning to take over his body.

You could clearly see the nervousness in his eyes and the subtle trembling of his rough hands that held your shoulders. You blinked once again, still processing the intensity of his words while keeping your own feelings in mind.

So, without further hesitation, you took a step forward, and before Benji could say anything else, you connected your lips to his with a force that left him surprised, yet he didn't take long to respond to the kiss with the same amount of force and intensity that he confessed his feelings.

Benjicot moved his hands to your waist when he felt your arms hugging his neck, then squeezed your waist to the point that you opened your mouth in surprise.This left an opening for him to massage your tongue with his own, entrancing you with the way he dominated the kiss that you had initiated yourself.

Neither of you know how long the two of you were immersed in kisses and making out; however, neither of you cared, only separating occasionally due to a lack of air.

But when you two finally separated, you saw his swollen lips curving in an adoring smile, which made you give him the same smile in his direction. "I think you like me." He hummed, the scar on his lip becoming more visible as his smile grew.

"Actually, i’m completely in love with you." You admitted it sweetly, and Benjicot grinned before crushing his lips to yours once more.

lol i’m too juicy, mb

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mononijikayu · 5 months ago

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marry you — ryomen sukuna.

Sukuna stared at him for a long moment, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. "You want me to propose... during a football practice?" Yuji nodded enthusiastically, as if it were the best idea in the world. "Yeah! It’s unexpected, and you’ll have the whole team there! Megs and Norbs can help out too! Everyone will be pumped, and the atmosphere will be amazing!" Sukuna groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. "That’s... quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), fluff, family, slice of life, family dynamic, light hearted, domestic, romance, banter, humour, physical touch, happy ending, hurt/comfort, depictions of family dynamic, depiction of anxiety, depiction of slice of life, boyfriend! sukuna, amnesiac! girlfriend! reader, domestic uncle sukuna!, nephew!yuji, i love you nephew!yuji;

WORD COUNT: 7.4k words

NOTE: the people have spoken and ryomen sukuna won my poll (again!!!)~ this is the final (maybe) installment of amnesia and a day in a life . reader and sukuna have been together for a while after this. they're much happier and healthy here. yuji loves his unckuna and auntie!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy it. i had a ball writing this because i just, this was fun. seeing sukuna be silly. anyway i love you all!!! see you in the next one <3 also @midnight-138, this is for you, im sorry for my angsty writing <3

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── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

THERE WAS NEVER A TIME IN HIS LIFE THAT ANYTHING WAS NOT MEASURED. Ryomen Sukuna had always lived by the belief that precision and decisiveness were the cornerstones of strength. His brother, Jin, was the opposite in that regard.

Jin was easygoing, someone who flowed through life with a relaxed confidence. That’s how he had ended up casually taking his wife Kaori’s name without a second thought after marriage, something that had never sat well with Sukuna.

It wasn’t that Sukuna found it disrespectful; rather, he simply couldn't understand how someone could relinquish a piece of themselves so easily. To Sukuna, names held power, identity, and control. They were not to be changed on a whim.

And most of all, it was who he was. If his brother was going to let the name die, who would continue it? Yet maybe, that’s besides the point. Because it wasn’t the point.

The point was this — Ryomen Sukuna found himself in an unusual position, plagued by doubt. Unlike his brother, who easily adapted and made decisions without looking back, Sukuna was being dragged through an internal war, and this was uncharted territory for him.

He had always been sure—sure of his choices, sure of his actions, sure of his strength. Whether in battle or in the mundane aspects of life, he operated with an unshakable conviction. It had defined him for so long.

Except now, with the ring in his hand, everything felt different.

For months, Sukuna had been reduced to a more fragile version of himself, struggling with emotions he thought he had long buried, emotions he used to scoff at as weakness.

But this—this wasn’t a trivial matter, not something he could merely slice through with a sharp blade or dismiss with his usual unyielding demeanor. This wasn’t about power or domination. It was about vulnerability, commitment, and the gravity of the choice he was about to make.

The ring wasn’t just a symbol; it was a testament to something far deeper. Sukuna had never hesitated before. But for the first time, he was wrestling with fear—the fear of being vulnerable, of giving a piece of himself away, just as his brother had done so easily. But was it really a weakness? Or had he, all this time, misunderstood the strength it took to let someone in?

He had bought it months ago. A shimmering band, simple yet unmistakably meaningful, one that carried the weight of everything he had come to feel for you. Every glance, every brush of your hand, every laugh—each moment had woven itself into the threads of his existence. And now, here he was, staring at this small, ridiculous piece of jewelry like it was the most dangerous object in the world.

He wanted to propose.

He had never wanted anything so badly in his life. He wanted to tell you, to kneel (a position he never imagined himself in) and offer you the promise of forever. The thought was absurd, wasn’t it? Him kneeling before someone?

Yet for you, the idea seemed... right. He didn’t just want you; he wanted to spend the rest of his days making you happy, something he had never imagined himself capable of until you.

And that’s what drove him mad.

He didn’t know how to do it. How was a man like him supposed to express something so fragile? Words weren’t his strong suit, and even if he could gather them, they always seemed to fall short when it came to you. How could he ever explain the storm of emotions, the way you’d carved a place for yourself in his blackened heart? The very thought of it made his fingers clenched into fists.

The timing, too—it was never right. Every time he thought he might do it, something held him back. What if he wasn’t enough? What if, despite everything, you said no? The ring burned in his pocket like a curse of its own, a reminder of everything he wasn’t sure he deserved.

Ryomen Sukuna who’s been in delinquent clubs, who’s been the most fearsome wrestler and now undefeated weightlifter — who has done anything, and yet never been frightened. Not at all. But proposing to you? That terrified him.

Sukuna wasn’t used to nerves, but ever since he bought that ring, they seemed to follow him everywhere. And as much as he hated to admit it, Sukuna was struggling. So, he decided he was going to get this over with—no more overthinking. How hard could it be, really? It was just a proposal.

Attempt one: At dinner.

The scene was set. A quiet, candlelit dinner at your favorite restaurant. It was your birthday. No perfect day, right? It was everything that you could ever want. It was intimate, it was heartfelt and it was just completely perfect.

Ryomen Sukuna had been uncharacteristically calm the whole night, which should have tipped you off that something was up. Between bites of your meal, you saw him fiddling with something in his pocket. Your face scrunches at the sight of him. And then your boyfriend cleared his throat—a sound that, for someone as confident as him, felt almost foreign.

“So, baby….” he began, trying to sound casual, but his voice cracked just a bit. “How would you feel about spending the rest of your life—”

Suddenly, the waiter appeared with a massive tray of dessert samples.

“Would you like to try our seasonal—”

Sukuna glared at the waiter, his red eye twitching as the moment slipped through his fingers. You tried to stifle your laugh as the waiter, completely oblivious, kept talking about tiramisu. Sukuna nearly cursed the man on the spot, but instead, he dropped the conversation. That’s just as one would say — strike one.

Attempt two: Movie night.

Alright, he thought, a more relaxed setting would be better. Just you, him, and some stupid romantic movie you insisted on watching. This was just as intimate as the first one, but maybe a little bit more animated. Still, it was just between you two.

He thinks you would love it like this. The ring was ready in his hoodie pocket, and halfway through the movie, as the cheesy proposal scene played out on the screen, he thought, This is it. This is the moment.

But just as he leaned closer to you, reaching for the ring, the actor on screen dropped to one knee in front of the actress, who acted stunned. Everyone around the actors gasped and started freaking out and clapping. You groaned, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of it.

“Oh my god, if anyone ever proposed to me like that!” you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m sorry baby, but I ain’t that gal. I’d die of second-hand embarrassment.”

Your boyfriend Sukuna froze, hand halfway to his pocket, and quickly pretended he was just stretching. He slumped back on the couch, gritting his teeth.

Not like that, got it.

Attempt three: At the gym.

This was it. No more romantic crap—just you and him doing something you both enjoyed. He’d taken you to the gym, your regular workout routine in full swing. He figured the casual vibe would work, that maybe he could just slip the proposal into conversation like it was no big deal. Everything about this was perfect. Everything was going to go the way he wanted. Yup, that’s how it will go.

The problem? Sukuna wasn’t built for “casual.”

He spotted you while you were doing squats, casually throwing out, “You know… we should, uh, work on something long-term together, baby.”

“Huh? A long term plan?” You huffed back at him, your brows furrowed.

“I mean….something concrete. Like….like, something for us, you know? A long time.”

You blinked up at him, catching your breath. “Like a couple’s fitness plan?”

“Or... you know... life. Forever. Together.”

You squinted at him. “Are you feeling okay, baby? You sound delirious.”

He muttered something about “too many reps” and practically sprinted to the other side of the gym, leaving you utterly confused. Everyone was just as confused. You looked at the store clerk, Uraume but they just shrugged at you. You guess it was just one of those days.

Attempt four: The kitchen.

Ryomen Sukuna had woken up that morning and decided today’s the day. He was done failing, and he wasn’t going to overthink it anymore. He could do this. He knows he can. It wasn’t rocket science. People proposed all the time, and somehow they survived. And it happens, it ends up happening. Everything after that always ends up in a wedding. Yeah, he can do this.

You were making breakfast, humming to yourself, when Sukuna casually strolled into the kitchen, the ring in his pocket yet again. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you. You were the only person who could make something as mundane as cracking eggs look beautiful.

You looked up to him and smiled, greeting him sweetly. God, you were so beautiful. You looked like you were made from heaven. A genuine angel, as you asked him if he wanted coffee. He mumbled back and cleared his throat. You moved over to the other counter and started the coffee machine.

“Hey, babe.” he began, trying to sound nonchalant, but there was an odd edge to his voice. “How do you feel about... I don’t know... spending the rest of your life with me?”

Without looking up, you shrugged. “Sounds good. Can you pass me the salt?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Wait—what?”

You finally glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “I said, yeah, sounds good. Now the salt, please?”

Sukuna stood there, frozen. Was that a yes? Did you even know he was proposing?

You stared at him, still waiting for the salt shaker. When he didn’t move, you walked over and grabbed it yourself. “Thanks, big guy.” you said with a playful smile, clearly unaware that Sukuna had just (sort of) proposed. “Now, do you want some avocado on your toast today or nah?”

He groaned and dragged a hand over his face. It was hard for him to be angry with you either. You were too cute. Another failure.

Attempt five: The supermarket.

The ring still in his pocket, Ryomen Sukuna was now truly desperate. At this point, he was just winging it. You were both running errands, and as you reached for a carton of eggs in the store, he thought, Screw it. There were no romantic backdrops, no candles, no cheesy movie scenes—just the fluorescent lights of the grocery store. Your day to day. Nothing too much. This was now or never.

“Listen, baby.” he said, his tone more urgent than usual. “What if we just—”

At that moment, a kid ran by with a cart, ramming it right into Sukuna’s leg. A light groan came out of Sukuna as the kid’s eyes grew wide. Sukuna’s eyes turned dark as he glared at the kid. The kid swallowed the bile down his throat. As he was about to move, you called Sukuna. The kid let out a yelp and started pushing his cart.

The child screamed, “Sorry, mister!” and ran off, leaving your boyfriend in a state of pandemonium.

You, still holding the eggs, glanced at him for a moment and burst out laughing.

He sighed, slumping against the shelf. “I’m never going to get this right, am I?”

You smiled, stepping closer and poking his chest. “Get what right, baby?”

Sukuna glanced at the ring still burning in his pocket and grumbled, “Nothing. Just... forget it.”

You didn’t push him, but your knowing smile told him you weren’t entirely clueless. Maybe you had been waiting all along. Maybe, despite all his ridiculous failed attempts, you already knew what was coming.

Maybe, the next time he tried, you’d say yes before he even finished his sentence.

And maybe, that was exactly what he needed to hear.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

HIS MOTHER USED TO SAY THAT OLDER BROTHERS KNEW BEST. But in all his life, Ryomen Sukuna liked to pride himself never needing to end up asking his elder brother for advice. Or any help at all, if he was being honest. The scarlet eyed man never liked having his brother do things for him. He doesn’t like owing anyone anything.

Because Sukuna wasn’t exactly known for asking anyone for advice—especially not about matters of the heart.

But after months of failed attempts, Sukuna could only find himself sitting in his brother Jin’s living room, slouched on the couch with his hands pressed against his face. He had to give in and concede to what his mother said. His brother knew best. And he should ask him. The ring still weighed heavy in his pocket, mocking him at every turn. His mother’s nagging words came to him, almost as though she would still be pinching his ear. Maybe if you asked your brother, you wouldn’t be suffering like this!

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, bro.” Sukuna muttered, his voice low, clearly frustrated. “I’ve been trying for months, bro. Months. Every time I think I’ve got it right, something goes wrong. I’ve got the ring. I’ve got the words. But I don’t know... it’s like nothing’s perfect enough. I don’t want to screw this up.”

Jin, ever calm and collected compared to his fiery younger brother, chuckled from across the room. He sat in his armchair, reading glasses perched on his nose, looking up from the book he had been reading. “You’re overthinking it, Kuna.”

“Overthinking?” Sukuna scoffed, sitting up and glaring at his brother. “I can’t just walk up and throw the ring at the love of my life, you know? They deserve something... more from me. I want it to be perfect.”

Jin set his book down and leaned back in his chair, the corners of his mouth turning up in a nostalgic smile. “You know, I went through something similar when I proposed to Kaori.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “You? Really? You seem so... calm about all of this.”

Jin laughed, shaking his head. “Calm? Hardly. I was a wreck. I had all these elaborate plans I worked really hard on. I thought I’d propose on a sunset beach or during some elegant dinner. But none of it worked out the way I thought.”

Sukuna frowned, curious despite himself. “So what did you do?”

Jin scratched the back of his head, clearly amused by the memory. “We were on a road trip—just a spontaneous one. I think that’s when we decided to go north. We got lost. The car broke down multiple times in the middle of nowhere, and it started pouring rain. Hard. We were soaked, stuck under a leaky gas station awning, of all places. There was nothing romantic about all of it. And yet…..well, it was what it was.”

Sukuna stared at him, baffled. “That sounds terrible.”

“It was, little brother.” Jin agreed, grinning. “But Kaori laughed through the whole thing. She thought it was hilarious. And that’s when I realized—there wasn’t going to be a perfect moment. So, I just asked her. Right there, soaking wet, covered in mud and all the dirt in the world. I didn’t even have the ring on me because I’d left it in the car. But I asked anyway.”

“And she said yes?” Sukuna asked, still trying to wrap his mind around how his brother had managed to pull that off.

Jin nodded with a wide smile. “Without hesitation. Because, little brother, it didn’t matter where we were or how it looked. What mattered was that I was asking her to spend her life with me. She didn’t care about the setting or the way I asked. She just cared about me. And wanting to continue loving me. So, she just said yes. Damn the world or what was good. She just…wanted me.”

Sukuna exhaled, leaning back again and letting that sink in. “I just... I don’t know if I can be that casual about it. I want the love of my life to love it. I want it to be... memorable.”

Jin leaned forward, his voice gentle. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, Kuna. It just has to be you. And about your love together. If sis in law does love you, it’ll be great no matter what. It will just happen. Trust me.”

Sukuna sighed, resting his head against the back of the couch. “I hope you’re right. I just—”

Before he could finish, the door to the room burst open, and Yuji bounced in, grinning from ear to ear. He was still dressed in his football uniform. “Uncle Sukuna! I heard you’re going to propose! Let me help!”

Sukuna groaned. The kid had such good ears, damn him. “Oi, brat! This is... it’s not something I need help with.’specially not from you! It’s—”

“Oh, come on! I’ve got great ideas, unc! We can do fireworks, or... or maybe we can surprise auntie with, like, a whole flash mob at the mall!” Yuji’s excitement was contagious, but Sukuna could feel a headache forming at the thought of any of those ideas. “I think auntie will love it, you know?”

“No flash mobs, Yuji.”

Yuji pouted for a moment, but then his face brightened again. “Okay, okay, what about a treasure hunt? Like, you leave little clues everywhere, and the final clue leads to you with the ring! I mean, auntie would love that! Auntie’s always been someone who likes puzzles!”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jin, who was barely hiding his laughter behind his hand. His brother was enjoying this little misery of his. His nephew’s barely thirteen and yet he’s got the idealistic mind. Too much like his brother, Sukuna thinks. But then again, his mother’s the same sort of human being.

“Hey brat, I don’t think your auntie appreciates getting dragged across the city just to find me with a ring at the end.” Sukuna said, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes now. “Auntie would get tired really fast then ask where’s the nearest soda shop.”

Yuji shrugged. “Well, whatever you do, it’ll be awesome. You’re awesome! Auntie will totally say yes.” He gave Sukuna a thumbs up, his usual boundless optimism shining through. “I mean, auntie’s been with you too long, so it's just bound to settle like that.”

“Wait, what do you mean settle—”

“Hey, hey! I didn’t mean anything mean about it.” Yuji pouted at his uncle defensively. “You know that much, unc! I love seeing you and auntie together.”

Sukuna shook his head at his nephew, though a small, begrudging smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks, brat.”

Jin, watching the exchange, nodded in agreement. “See, Kuna? It doesn’t matter how you do it. It’ll be great, because it’s coming from you.”

Sukuna sighed, feeling the weight of the ring in his pocket one more time. “I guess... I’ll just have to stop thinking so much and go for it.”

Yuji’s grin stretched even wider. “That’s the spirit now, unc! And if you change your mind about the flash mob, I’m totally in.”

Sukuna chuckled despite himself. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Yuji, still bouncing with excitement, suddenly lit up with an idea. "Oh! I know! Why don’t you come and coach my football team for a day? You can do it there!"

Sukuna blinked, utterly baffled by the suggestion. "Coach... football? What are you talking about, brat?"

Yuji was practically vibrating with energy now. "It’s perfect! You can come to practice, and we’ll, I don’t know, pretend something happened—like, I could pretend I twisted my ankle or something—and then, boom! You step in, gather everyone around, and propose! Auntie will be there all excited to be there and cheer us and you on."

Sukuna stared at him for a long moment, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. "You want me to propose... during a football practice?"

Yuji nodded enthusiastically, as if it were the best idea in the world. "Yeah! It’s unexpected, and you’ll have the whole team there! Megs and Norbs can help out too! Everyone will be pumped, and the atmosphere will be amazing!"

Sukuna groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. "That’s... quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

But before he could properly dismiss the idea, Jin let out a hearty laugh from his chair. “Why not, little brother? It’s certainly different. Do you have any better ideas?”

Sukuna shot him a look, but Jin just grinned. He could see his brother’s frustration boiling over, but there was also something else—maybe Sukuna was finally realizing that no moment was ever going to feel perfect. Not in the way he imagined.

“Come on, come on.” Jin said, still chuckling. “I mean, think about it. It’s so out of character for you that it might actually work. A little spontaneity never hurts anyone.”

Sukuna rubbed his face, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “You really think I should just... go to a football practice and pop the question in front of a bunch of sweaty teenagers?”

Yuji jumped in again, totally on board with his own wild idea. “Yeah! And I’ll totally sell it—I’ll limp off the field, everyone will be worried, and then you step up like a hero. I can already picture it!” He waved his arms dramatically, trying to sell the scene. "It’ll be epic."

Jin crossed his arms, his grin still plastered on his face. "It’s unconventional, sure. But it’s definitely memorable. And isn’t that what you wanted?"

Sukuna sighed, the absurdity of it all weighing on him. Coaching Yuji’s football team, of all things, to propose? He couldn’t believe this was even a conversation. Yet, as ridiculous as it sounded, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it might actually work.

Not because it was perfect—but because it was so wildly unexpected that it would leave you speechless. Maybe, after all these failed attempts, that was what he needed.

Still, he grumbled, "If this goes wrong, I’m cursing both of you."

Yuji laughed, slinging an arm over Sukuna’s shoulder, clearly unfazed by the threat. "It’s going to be great, Unc Sukuna! Trust me!"

Jin, still leaning back in his chair, raised an eyebrow. "So, is that a yes? You’re actually going to do this, little brother? No more backing out?”

Sukuna slumped back on the couch, rubbing his temples. "I can’t believe I’m saying this, but... yeah. Fine. Let’s try it your way, Yuji."

Yuji fist-pumped the air, grinning ear to ear. "Yes! This is going to be amazing. I can’t wait to see their faces when you finally propose!"

Sukuna let out a deep sigh, glancing at Jin one last time. His older brother gave him an encouraging nod. What does he have left to lose? If anything, if it works — maybe you’ll laugh it off. And he…he likes seeing you smile anyway. What does he have left to lose?

“You’re overthinking it again, little brother.” Jin reminded him. “Just do it, hm? It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Sukuna could only hope his brother was right.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

THE NEXT DAY, YOU DIDN’T FEEL LIKE GOING TO WORK. So, you had decided to stay lazily at home with Sukuna and just enjoy his day off together. Well, it worked out better considering that Sukuna informed your office you’ll be out for a while anyway. You happily hummed as you started making your cup of matcha milk for yourself. So far everything was well. In fact, the day had been going pretty normally.

But then you could only blink at him when Sukuna, of all people, approached you in the kitchen, casually leaning against the counter. He looked... slightly awkward, which was unusual for him. His scarlet eyes darted away for a moment before landing back on you.

“Hey, baby….” he said, almost too casually. “You wanna come to Yuji’s football game tomorrow?”

You blinked in surprise. Sukuna wasn’t exactly the type to invite you to these things. Usually, Yuji was the one who asked, and then Sukuna would begrudgingly tag along, acting like he was too cool to care. But now, he was asking you directly?

“You’re asking me to go?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “And also….you wanna go?”

He scratched the back of his neck, clearly a little embarrassed. “Yeah. Is that... a problem or something?”

You shook your head quickly, trying to hide your smile. “No, not at all. I’d love to go. It’s just... surprising coming from you. Usually, you wait until Yuji begs you to show up.”

Sukuna shifted uncomfortably, his face flushing just a bit. “Yeah, well... I’m gonna be more involved this time.”

Your curiosity piqued, you leaned forward. “What do you mean? Like, are you finally going to cheer from the sidelines instead of pretending not to care?”

He looked away again, mumbling under his breath, “I’m coaching the team.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Wait, what?”

Sukuna shot you a look, already regretting this conversation. “You heard me. I’m gonna be their coach... for the game. Just a trial…..It’s just…. Maybe a one time thing.”

The shock only lasted a second before you burst out laughing, unable to help yourself. The image of Sukuna, towering and intimidating, trying to coach a bunch of high school kids was just too much. It was all too much for you to think about your boyfriend. He crossed his arms on his chest like a little kid.

“Stop laughing.” he grumbled, clearly annoyed but also embarrassed.

You waved a hand, trying to catch your breath. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear. I’m just... I’m just imagining you barking orders at those poor kids like you do with your clients at the gym.”

Sukuna narrowed his eyes at you, crossing his arms. “That’s not how I coach at the gym.”

“Oh really?” you teased, still giggling. “You’re not going to stand on the sidelines, yelling ‘Run faster, you idiot!’ and ‘Stop slacking off, sweat it off!’ like you do with your trainees?”

“Of course not, babe.” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smirk on his lips now. “Those brats won’t know what hit them.”

Your laughter continued, but now it was filled with genuine amusement. “I can’t wait to see this. You, coaching a bunch of teenagers, pretending to know anything about football. Oh, this will be gold, baby. I’m in!”

Sukuna groaned, running a hand down his face. “You’re really not helping, you know.”

“I’m sorry baby.�� you said, still grinning as you put a thumb up. “I just can’t picture it without laughing. But hey, I’m sure you’ll do great.”

He grumbled under his breath again, but you could see the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’d better not laugh when you see me out there.”

“No promises here, baby.” you teased, stepping closer and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “But I’ll be there, front and center, cheering you on.”

Ryomen Sukuna rolled his eyes, but the blush creeping up his neck told you everything you needed to know. Despite his gruff demeanor, he was secretly pleased. And maybe—just maybe—this ridiculous plan wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

You know Yuji loves some good orange juice, so you brought cold packs of that in the cooler too. You supposed you could say that you were more excited than most. You had the full gear from their team and everything. It was something you requested from Sukuna and he got it for you before yesterday, when he got his own uniform.

YOU DIDN’T SLEEP A WINK. But you couldn’t help it. You were too excited. The practices wee nice but each time you had to leave earlier for work. But this time, you got to have a full day just being there. These past few days, Sukuna's been in a gloom but he reassured you that its nothing. You wanted to press, but you knew your boyfriend too well to pry.

You were just one excited soul to be here. It was the tournament league now. And Yuji's team made it through the finals. You brought packs of snacks for you and Sukuna, some for the kids too in case their moms didn’t have anything on them. Some cold drinks too.

And now, you found yourself standing by the field, watching as Sukuna walked out with the team. The sun was brilliantly bright, and there was a decent crowd, mostly parents and students, filling the bleachers.

But your beaming eyes were glued to the unlikely sight before you: Ryomen Sukuna, your intimidating, tough-as-nails partner, now wearing a whistle around his neck and a deeply annoyed expression as he dealt with a bunch of teenage boys.

You could see precious Itadori Yuji bouncing around excitedly, clearly thrilled that Sukuna had agreed to coach. The rest of the team, however, seemed slightly nervous under Sukuna’s intense gaze.

Yuji’s two close friends, Fushiguro Megumi and Kugisaki Nobara, didn’t seem to care and were just playing with the balls and gloves, tossing to each other. But their nonchalant behavior was a stark contrast from everyone else. Some of them glanced back at you, probably wondering why this mountain of a man was suddenly in charge. But you don’t blame any of them. Your boyfriend did look imposing.

Sukuna blew the whistle sharply, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing again. He barked out orders like a drill sergeant, his deep voice carrying across the field. “You—stop dragging your feet! Move it! You think this is a joke? Pick up the pace!”

You couldn’t help but lean against the fence, shaking your head with a smile. Well, you were right. It was exactly as you had imagined—Sukuna treating this football practice like a high-intensity training session at the gym. The kids were all scrambling around, trying their best not to get on his bad side.

After a particularly harsh instruction, you caught his scarlet eye from across the field. He gave you a look, clearly daring you to laugh, and you had to press your lips together to keep from cracking up. When you got it together, you started clapping and cheering for him. And for a moment, you could see a scarlet tint flush on your boyfriend’s cheek. That had made you smile.

During a water break, Yuji came jogging over, grinning from ear to ear. “How’s Unc Sukuna doing, Auntie? He’s totally killing it, right?”

You smiled and raised an eyebrow. “He’s certainly... in charge. The team looks a little terrified, though. Well, except Nobara and Megumi.”

Yuji chuckled, not even a little bit phased. “Yeah, but they’ll respect him. He’s making them work harder than our regular coach.”

You glanced back at Sukuna, who was currently standing with his arms crossed, scowling as one of the players asked him a question. He looked like he belonged in a weightlifting competition, not on a football field. Your boyfriend could have done so many things, you knew. But he said he got bored of it all, since people keep telling him what to do. But either way, your boyfriend would have ended up looking like this. This hunk of muscular muscle.

“Well, as long as no one cries, I think it’ll be a success, Yuji!” you teased.

Yuji laughed and then leaned in closer. “So, do you think they suspect anything yet?”

You raised an eyebrow. You were confused. “About what?”

He gave you a mischievous look, a grin playing at the corners of his lips. “You know... Uncle Sukuna’s plan. The proposal.”

You blinked, your smile fading as confusion washed over you. Wait, hold on. Was Yuji talking about Sukuna’s proposal to expand the gym? He’d been telling you about that for months now, outlining every detail, every plan. Surely Sukuna hadn’t forgotten.

“Wait. That’s today?” you asked, half-expecting to hear more about Sukuna's latest gym renovation idea.

But something in Yuji’s expression didn’t quite fit the usual conversation. His grin widened, almost teasing. You suddenly had the sinking feeling you might not be on the same page at all. But just as you were going to go and talk to him about it, the whistle blew again, and the game began. Yuji saluted you and ran off to the field once again.

You tried to keep your eyes on the match, the sounds of cheers and the smack of fists hitting against gloves filling the air, but your mind was elsewhere. Sukuna’s plan. It kept creeping into your thoughts, pulling your focus away from the fight.

He had been working tirelessly on the gym expansion for months, meticulously coordinating every detail. The proposal with the contractor was a major step, one he had been looking forward to with a mix of excitement and that quiet intensity he always had when he wanted something done perfectly.

But now, you couldn’t shake the worry creeping up your spine. If Yuji’s casual comment about the proposal meant what you thought it did, then something had gone wrong. Sukuna must have missed the meeting with the contractor. Your boyfriend never missed important business meetings, especially not one like this, which was practically the culmination of weeks of hard work and planning.

You bit your lip, your gaze flickering back to the field, but all you could think about was Sukuna. His sense of control, of always being on top of things—what could have possibly distracted him? And why hadn’t he told you? Maybe you could’ve reminded him or helped him juggle things better.

Your stomach tightened with unease. Sukuna wasn’t the type to slip up like this, not unless something bigger was weighing on him. You’d seen the way he had been acting recently—distracted, quieter than usual, though he would shrug it off if you ever asked. Was this just about the proposal, or was there something else, something deeper he hadn’t shared yet?

As the game continued, it became even more intense, but not nearly as intense as the look Sukuna had on his face as he barked orders from the sidelines. You could see him glancing your way every now and then, his jaw set, his eyes determined. This was insane, even for a league of teenagers in middle school. But you suppose that’s what happens when you put your boyfriend to coach on the field.

As the game drew to a close, with Yuji’s team pulling off a narrow victory, you noticed Sukuna’s posture shift. He was still his usual composed self, but there was something nervous about the way he kept adjusting the whistle around his neck. He takes a moment for a breath.

When the final whistle blew and the players began congratulating each other, Ryomen Sukuna called out to them. “Alright, listen up! Get over here. I’ve got something to say.”

The entire team gathered around him, and you stood at the edge of the field, your heart pounding as you watched the scene unfold. You could see Yuji trying (and failing) to hide his excitement as he joined the group. Everything about was making you feel like you were going to lose it.

Sukuna cleared his throat, looking oddly serious. “There’s someone here today who’s... important to me.”

The players exchanged confused glances, and you felt your cheeks heat up as you realized he was talking about you.

Sukuna continued, his voice a little gruffer than usual. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I’ve been trying really hard to make this happen. I really have been. And I just…I’ve been thinking, to hell with it. We might as well go through with it. Even if it's going to be too much and lame.” He shot a pointed look at Yuji, who gave him an encouraging thumbs up.

Your heart was racing now, and you could feel the eyes of the team turning toward you. Sukuna reached into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box from his pockets. He opened it and you could clearly see it. There was something small and shiny inside of it.

“This…..” he said, holding up the ring for everyone to see. “ This is what I’ve been working up the nerve to do for months.”

The entire field went dead silent. The team, the parents in the stands—everyone was watching.

Sukuna’s scarlet eyes finally met yours, and in that moment, all the tough, intimidating layers seemed to peel away. He stepped toward you in the bleachers, his beautiful face softening as he held the ring in his hand.

“I’m not good at speeches. Or, apparently, proposals.” He smirked, and you couldn’t help but smile through the nerves. “But I know one thing. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The world seemed to blur around you as Sukuna knelt down, holding out the ring. “So, what do you say?”

Your heart swelled as you took in the sight of him—this fierce, stubborn man who had somehow, in his own awkward way, found the perfect moment. You felt the tears welling up in your eyes as you whispered the only answer you could give.

“Yes.”

The crowd erupted into cheers, with Yuji practically jumping up and down as the team whooped and clapped. Sukuna stood, slipping the ring onto your finger, and pulled you into a tight embrace, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured, “Told you it didn’t have to be perfect.”

You laughed softly, wiping away a tear. “It was more than perfect.”

Ryomen Sukuna grinned, leaning down to kiss you as the noise of the crowd faded into the background. Everything about the past? That didn’t matter at all now. Because all this, this is what mattered. After all that you both went through, after all that happens — everything was well. Because he was going to marry you.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

epilogue

As Sukuna pulled you close, his lips brushing against yours, the cheers and whistles from the crowd surrounded you both. Yuji, of course, was the loudest, pumping his fists in the air and hyping up the team, who were now clapping and laughing at the unexpected turn of events.

“Unc Sukuna’s engaged!” Yuji shouted, jumping onto the field. “Best day ever!”

You pulled back slightly from the kiss, your face flushed and your heart still racing, meeting Sukuna’s gaze. His scarlet eyes softened, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, standing in the middle of a whirlwind of noise and celebration. He took your hand, where the ring sat on your finger and placed a small kiss upon it. You grew even more flustered.

Sukuna sighed, his lips curving into a rare, genuine smile. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

You chuckled, brushing a hand against his cheek. “Believe it. You just proposed in front of an entire football team.”

He groaned slightly, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Nope. But I love that you did it.”

His arms tightened around you for a moment before he pulled back, glancing at the team who were still buzzing with excitement. He gave them a half-hearted glare. “Alright, enough gawking. Get off the field. We still have a game to win.”

The boys quickly scattered, though you could see the smirks and murmurs they exchanged as they left. Megumi and Nobara were snickering at how soft their coach Sukuna was looking at you. Your nephew Yuji, of course, was the last one standing there, grinning like an idiot.

“So, Unc Sukuna,” Yuji said, nudging his uncle’s arm. “How’d it feel to propose in front of an audience? Pretty cool, huh?”

Sukuna shot him a deadpan look. “Brat, don’t think I’ve forgotten this was your idea.”

Yuji only grinned wider, completely unfazed. “But it worked! Look at that ring! And look at auntie’s face!” He pointed to you, beaming. “You guys are the cutest engaged couple ever!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yuji, stop embarrassing your uncle.”

Sukuna crossed his arms, shaking his head in exasperation. “You’ve been spending too much time around Gojo, I swear to god.” he muttered under his breath, glancing at Yuji with mock annoyance. “I better tell your dad to never let you back in Fushiguro’s house.”

Yuji just shrugged. “Hey, I’m just a romantic at heart. I love seeing love win!”

Before Sukuna could retaliate, his elder brother Jin appeared from the sidelines, clapping his younger brother on the shoulder. “See? I told you it didn’t have to be perfect.”

Sukuna let out a long sigh, shooting Jin a look. “Yeah, yeah. I guess you were right.”

Jin raised an amused brow. “Guess?”

“Fine, fine.” Sukuna grumbled, a reluctant smirk forming. “You were right.”

Jin grinned. “That’s more like it. And for what it’s worth, little brother, you pulled it off pretty damn well. Look at that, you’re getting married. I’m so proud of you, hm?”

Sukuna grunted, still not entirely comfortable with the praise, but you could see the tension slowly leave his body. He wasn’t one to bask in sentimental moments, but for this one, he was letting himself enjoy it.

“Thanks….big brother.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go back to the bleachers. Kaori’s gonna get lonely.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s meet down here so we can have dinner together.”

Jin grinned. “Oh, you’re paying tonight?”

“Oh, don’t think too far like that, big brother.”

Yuji, still full of energy, suddenly clapped his hands together. “Alright! Since you two are officially engaged, I think it’s time we celebrate!”

You glanced at Sukuna, who rolled his eyes but didn’t object. “Sure, why not?” he said with a shrug. “But I’m picking the place. No weird restaurants.”

Yuji pouted. “But there’s this ramen shop Gojo–sensei recommended—”

“No.” Sukuna said flatly, his tone brooking no argument.

You smiled, leaning into Sukuna’s side. “Wherever you want to go, we’ll go.”

Sukuna looked down at you, a rare warmth softening the usual intensity of his gaze. His voice, normally edged with authority, held a surprising tenderness. “I’ll think of something. Now go on. Go finish the game.”

You turned toward Yuji, who was standing there, clearly wanting to argue. “But unc—” he started, but Sukuna cut him off before he could finish.

“I said go!” Sukuna’s voice, firm but not unkind, sent Yuji running back to the field, his frustration bubbling over as he shouted, “It’s not fair!”

You watched Yuji dash off, his protests lost in the sound of his feet pounding the grass, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. He had always been full of energy, bouncing between enthusiasm and impatience, and Sukuna loved to tease him for it—though Yuji never seemed to take it lightly.

Turning back to your fiancé, you shot him a playful pout. “Must you tease him so much? He did help you propose, you know?”

Sukuna exhaled, a faint sigh escaping him as his hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer. “Eh, He can handle a little teasing.”

You tilted your head, studying Sukuna’s face. Even though his words were casual, there was a deeper affection in them, one that wasn’t always so visible. Yuji, in his own way, had been a part of your lives, and you knew Sukuna cared for him more than he’d ever let on. But Sukuna’s way of showing love was always layered with a bit of roughness, teasing, and challenges—he never made things too easy, even for those closest to him.

“He’s just a kid,” you murmured, leaning into him, your pout softening as you placed your hands on his chest. “He looks up to you, you know.”

Sukuna’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes flickering with amusement. “Yeah, well, he should know by now I’m not gonna go easy on him.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile broke through your pout. “Maybe try cutting him some slack next time. You can’t torment him every time he tries to help.”

“Torment?” Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “Come on, he loves it.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he glanced toward the field, where Yuji was back in action, still muttering something under his breath. “Besides, if I didn’t push him, who would?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, giving his chest a playful shove. “Alright, alright. But don’t be too hard on him. He really did come through for us.”

Sukuna’s expression softened again, and he gave you a knowing look. “I know. I’ll make it up to him.”

As you both watch Jin go back to the bleachers with Kaori, you feel your fiance's arms wrap around you. Your hands intertwined and on top of his hand, was your own. You couldn’t help but glance down at the ring on your finger, your heart swelling with happiness.

Ryomen Sukuna had surprised you—more than you ever thought he would. And while it hadn’t been a grand, romantic gesture in a traditional sense, it had been perfect in the most Sukuna way possible. Unconventional, slightly chaotic, but undeniably heartfelt.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

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softspiderling · 6 months ago

Text

i’ll run my fingers through your hair | j.v

synopsis: jace + modern au + hair

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

word count: 1,1k

author’s note: just a little not very serious drabble/mini fic about you tying jace’s hair in a pony… bc i couldn’t stop thinking about it during work. unedited, written on a whim in like 20 minutes on my phone… @eldrith put the gun away. also football ✅⚽️ not ❌🏈

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ever since Jace had grown his hair out he had only seen positive changes his new hair cut had brought in his life. He had gotten tons of compliments (from friends, family AND strangers), questions about his “hair care routine” (water, shampoo and leave in conditioner… was that enough steps to call it a routine?) and of course, the way you were tugging on it whenever he was between your legs. That, he enjoyed particularly.

In all the upsides, he had never thought there would be downsides as well. Clearly, he completely forgot about the football season.

The last games had already been over before his hair started curling around his ears, the process of growing it out taking longer than expected. But now that training was back on, he had been struggling with his curls sticking to the back of his neck or falling into his face while he sprinted across the field and Jace actually started contemplating getting it cut before the first game.

“Don’t you dare,Jacaerys Targaryen.”

Jace flinched when you full-named him, quickly locking his phone, the hair dresser’s online appointment website fading to black. You only ever full-named him when you were serious about something. He hadnt realized you were so invested in his hair.

“I wasn’t gonna get it all chopped of!” he insisted. “Only like a trim maybe.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But babe,” he whined, his lower lip jutting out in a pout, one of his most used weapons to try to get his way with you. “This season’s so important, and I can’t be distracted by hair.”

It was his first year starting as captain of the Dragons, the last thing he needed was being distracted by his hair, He would not lose because of vanity.

“There are less drastic ways than cutting your beautiful hair off!”

You ran your fingers through his brown locks, your nails scratching against his scalp and Jace nearly melted into the couch, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Like what?”

His words sounded breathless when he spoke and you were grinning when you climbed over the back of the couch, plopping yourself next to him.

“Come down here and I’ll show you,” you said, gesturing to the floor in front of you. Jace sighed, but did as you asked anyways, folding his legs under himself. He leaned back against the couch as you combed through his hair with your hand, making his eyes flutter closed. His muscles automatically relaxed as soon as you put your hands into his hair, it was like magic.

“- half-up half-down…Hey, are you even listening to me?”

“Hm?”

“If you’re not gonna listen when I’m trying to help you-!”

“Okay, okay, I’m listening, sorry!” Jace reached back to curl his hand around your wrist, bringing it forward to place a kiss on the back of your hand. “You said something about half-up half-down…?”

You huffed.

“I need my hand back, Jace.”

Jace let go of your wrist and you sectioned his hair off with your fingers, tugging on it a little, as he shifted on the floor, before tying his hair off with an elastic.

“Look at it.”

Jace grabbed his phone, opening the camera on it to look at himself, the upper half of his hair now pulled back in a small pony, leaving his face free of his hair. For some reason, he had never thought about tying his hair off.

“Isn’t that… Girly?” he asked,

You gave him a look.

“Your father had the same hairstyle for your mother’s birthday last month. I think we can both agree on the fact that your father is not girly.”

Jace let out a huff, settling back against the couch. He did not like how lilty your voice got whenever you talked about his dad. He looked at the camera again, starting to get used to it.

“Doesn’t look half bad,” he admitted, looking at his hair from all angles. “What if I can’t tie it properly though and it’ll just unravel in the middle of the game? I think that might be even worse than just starting with my hair untied.”

“If you can’t do it yourself, I’ll do it for you,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hm,” Jace hummed, tilting his phone to snap a picture of the two of you, your laugh echoing in his ears.

Said picture now was opened on his phone, as Jace tried to use it as a reference to tie his hair off. The first game of the season was about to start, and the whole team was in a frenzy. This was usually the opportunity Jace used to give his team mates a pep talk, rally them around, but he was too busy fighting with his hair and his vice-captain Cregan was still in the showers, taking his ritualistic ice bath (yes, he was superstitious; when they lost 3:4 against the White Walkers, Cregan insisted it was because he didn’t have time to take his ice bath, Jace knew it was because Addam had been out injured and Aegon had taken his place in the squad).

“Shit, how the fuck did she do it?” Jace muttered, bringing the hair tie around his hair, glancing between the reference picture and the mirror.

“Hey Cap, the cheerleaders are starting in ten minutes so we should be out in five, are you done fixing up your hair?” Ulf asked, stepping way into Jace’s personal space, despite Jace telling numerous times to fuck off.

“Shut up,” Jace huffed, his eye twitching in annoyance when his phone screen darkened. “Do me a favor and go get my girl from the stands.”

“Ooh what, the big ol’ Prince can’t start the game without seeing his ‘wittle girlfriend?” Ulf cackled, but his grin soon faded when Jace turned around to glare at him, his hand still around his hair.

“Do you want to start off the season on the bench, White?”

“Sorry Cap, I’ll go get your girl right away.”

Ulf scampered off with his tail between his legs and Jace sighed, letting go of his hair.

“Cregan, you’ve got about one minute to get your ass out of the ice bath before I replace you with Aemond!”

“I’ll be right out, Jace!”

“We better win this goddamned game,” Jace muttered to your smiling face on his phone.

They won 5:2.

But their victory was only a byline in the uni’s paper the following week, a picture of Jace’s half-up half-down hairstyle taking up half of the front page.

DRAGONS’ CAPTAIN GRACING THE FIELD WITH NEW HAIRSTYLE!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: don’t forget to leave a comment if you liked it🫶🏼

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jace x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x you #prince jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon fic #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jace x you

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jiminiecrickets · 3 months ago

Text

HONEY POT. PJM / KTH / M!READER

summary. there's something wrong with the popular kids at this small-town high school. something deeply, viscerally, hauntingly wrong...

wc. 8.8k

tags. smut | top!reader, bottom!tae, switch!jimin, jimin in skirts and heels, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, biting, spitroasting, brief daddy kink (r. receiving), gratuitous blood/gore, blood as lube (from another wound), cultism & religious fervour, cannibalism, murder

note. happy halloween!! i began this in early august to be on time, but uh, we know how that turned out :')

"—and i was like, no, that isn't how this works! i'm literally the best he's ever had, why would he ever wanna break up with me? i even bought him that stupid walkman he kept whining about and he still went and cheated on me and then tried to dump me. me! how could he?"

"well, he was already on his way to being a forty-year-old junkie who lives in a trailer park and hates life. he could've had so much with you. he'll realise how much he messed up – he'll get his karma."

"i know, i know... you're right. i just wish he could've been nicer. could've saved us both the trouble."

jimin lifts his soft dark eyes from his pink handheld mirror. he smacks his glossy lips and shuts the mirror with a clack, crossing his legs the other way and leaning back against the steps of the steel bleachers. he glances up at taehyung, who sits one step above him.

dressed in a cropped, pale pink shirt and blue jeans, taehyung fans his hot face with chunky rings on each finger, eyes lifted to the sky in a futile effort to hold back tears. jimin had already helped him redo his makeup in the bathroom, and this wasn't the first time taehyung had cried over a boy. poor thing just had too big of a heart – he wasn't made for modern boys and their vices.

jimin sucks on his teeth and sighs, turning forwards to lord over the verdant grassy field, where the senior boys are engaged in tryouts for college football teams. "don't worry, honey. we'll find the right one for you eventually. maybe try an athlete? the artsy ones are always such snobs."

"oh, they aren't all that bad, really," taehyung mumbles, patting the corners of his damp eyes lightly. "anyway, they all want you, not me. they're not into anyone who isn't a cheerleader."

"you're being silly. they just don't think you're interested – you keep rejecting them." jimin scours the field, tucking his dark hair behind his ear. a diamond stud flashes under the sun. he reaches out and touches taehyung's knee, leaning in for secrecy he doesn't need. "how about that one?"

"he called me a sour bitch. no."

"and that one?"

"he made me do all the work on a paired project and took my ninety-eight for himself. no."

jimin purses his lips, eyes flickering between their faces, warm and shining under the sun. all around, they looked quite similar – all fairly muscular, with the same lazy grins. not bad for eye-candy, he supposes, but taehyung is a romantic, which is how anyone he dates manages to bury themselves so deeply in his heart.

motion by the changing rooms on the other side of the field. jimin's eyes flick over naturally, and they widen.

strong, handsome, and, most importantly, taehyung is already looking at him.

he keeps his watchful gaze discreet, following the figure as he crosses the field and joins the coach to speak with him briefly. he is handed a football, which he tosses and spins in his hands a few times, and the coach gathers a few lounging boys to help out.

they spread out, and the tryout begins.

jimin isn't an expert on the game, only knows the basics, but he knows how to read a man – and the coach is clearly impressed by what he sees. jimin observes quietly, crossing his legs and uncrossing them, as he runs circles around the rest of the boys, leaving them far in the dust.

at last, when the boys are huffing and puffing with their hands on their heads and the cute one takes his time wandering back to the coach – after meeting jimin's eyes for a quick, sparkling second – jimin turns his head in taehyung's direction.

"what about... that one?"

taehyung huffs, pressing his knees together and resting his elbows on them. jimin doesn't mention how his gaze flicks to his shoes before meeting jimin's, almost as if he didn't want to be caught looking. he gives the footballer a once-over, then inspects his nails. "too tall."

jimin watches him push back his cuticles with his thumbnail, those thick dark lashes brushing his fine cheekbones. his prettiness makes him a honeypot for invariably bad people, and though jimin feels for him, he can't say he wants him to stop trying. everyone has their place in the world – even cheaters and liars. taehyung's relationships make it easier to weed them out for proper atonement.

"are you sure?" jimin asks carefully, tilting his head. "he looks like just your type."

"i don't have a type," taehyung sighs. "if i did, it'd make finding people that much harder."

eventually, jimin hums, and turns away to watch the tryouts.

out of sight, taehyung's shoulders slump slightly, and he exhales shakily. he nibbles on the edge of his nail as his eyes follow a figure lifting a water bottle to his lips. his sweat-shining throat bobs as he swallows rapidly, and a trickle of water escapes from the corner of his lips; it trails down his neck to soak into the collar of his shirt. he wipes it away without much thought. taehyung presses his thighs together.

suddenly, jimin turns back to him, propping his chin on his palm. his eyes are big and innocent as he asks, "hey, tae? you know that ex we were talking about earlier? i want his address."

"o-oh, um – just to make him sorry, right?"

"yeah. he will be."

taehyung swallows. "yes. okay. is it bad that i feel... that i pity him?"

jimin giggles, sweet and high like a bell. he squeezes taehyung's knee. "you're my best friend. i'm not going to let anyone get away with hurting you. you know that."

"mhm, i know. just make sure nobody sees you, alright? i don't want you getting in trouble for vandalism or something."

"oh, my charges would definitely include more than petty vandalism, but you know me – i cannot be caged!" he jumps to his feet and stretches high above his head, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of pure, unblemished skin. the way he scrunches his nose slightly makes taehyung's heart flutter.

he exhales softly as his neck cracks, and he flashes taehyung a quick smile as he packs up his pin-studded messenger bag and slings it over his shoulder. "you can give me his address after school, but don't leave it too late. don't forget about the curfew. i have to go for now, but you make sure you take care of yourself, okay? if you feel too sad to study, i'm sure my mother would let you go home early if you asked."

taehyung hums and nods, leaning forward on the bench as jimin skips down the bleachers until his ivory pumps make a satisfying clack on the concrete base. "your nepo-baby status is really helpful sometimes, y'know?"

jimin beams, his eyes crinkling to crescents. "i know! see you around, honey. love you!"

"love you," taehyung echoes, and watches him go. his all-white outfit makes him as bright as the moon, and just as breathtaking. effortlessly, he carves a path through the crowds like moses and the red sea, perfectly oblivious to the power he wields over them all.

taehyung sighs and turns back to watch the tryouts, and that one special player right in the middle. just as he wishes you'd come and cheer him up, you glance over, grass stains on your shorts and a new bruise on your knee. as you meet his gaze, the biggest grin splits your face. you wave with your whole arm and taehyung giggles to himself, hiding his warm cheeks behind his knuckles as he lifts one shy hand.

his heart races. for you, he'll keep up this masquerade. this was a dangerous neck of the woods, and he wouldn't let anything steal you away – not even jimin.

he's waiting patiently for you at the edge of the field when you finally manage to break off from your mates. his slim fingers dance lightly over your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. as quickly as his touch arrives, it vanishes, his arms once more wrapped around his body like a hug.

"hey," he greets softly.

"hey yourself," you reply, amusement light on your tongue. "i saw you earlier. i hope you didn't get bored watching me chase after a ball like a dog."

he huffs. "what are you saying? dogs are cute. you were cute. i like seeing you bound across the field – you make for some especially tasty eye-candy, sweating and panting like that."

"do i, now?" you say playfully, leaning against the steel fence. he leans in too, matching your smile with a pretty, half-bitten one of his own. his lashes flutter as you tease a kiss, the tip of your nose brushing his cheek. "next thing i know, you'll be begging to lick me up."

he clicks his tongue, turning away from your almost-kiss in half-assed defiance. "tch. here i am, trying to be sweet, and you ruin it all. boys like you have only one thing on their minds."

"hey, you started it! besides, are you telling me you wouldn't wanna taste of my lollipop?" you smirk, gazing at his side profile. he's drop dead gorgeous, all full lips and big eyes, and you could easily while away your days doing nothing but admiring the symmetry of his features.

taehyung rolls his eyes, but there's no heat to it. he sniffs. "you wish. you wouldn't last long enough to enjoy the view."

you place a hand over your heart. "careful, pretty boy, or you and your mean insults could remain part of me for a long, long time. words hurt, you know?"

"what do i have to be careful for? you like me too much to do any lasting damage to me. it's nice, really. nice to know you love me – in your own, silly little way." he pokes your chest, and you catch his hand in yours and lift his knuckles to your lips. the ghost of a kiss shivers over his skin.

"silly?" you parrot, returning his hand to him with a knowing look. you rest your hip against the top of the chain-link fence, casting a glance casually over the field. "you think my acts of love are silly?"

taehyung hums, leaning over and grasping your chin. he turns your face towards him. "'sweet', then – that's probably a better word for it. none of my exes ever did what you do for me. not even close. i'm sorry, baby – please don't pout."

"i'm glaring, actually," you huff. "this is my glaring face."

"don't, you'll get wrinkles," taehyung chides. he glances around, and swiftly, like a little bird, flits up on his toes to press his lips against your cheek. in the blink of an eye, he settles back into place on his side of the fence. he sighs, and a sudden weight slumps his shoulders. you straighten, turning towards him properly.

"he noticed you," he says, his voice lower than usual. "pointed you out to me as a potential boyfriend."

the smile you were wearing drops like a stone. "he did?"

taehyung doesn't trust himself to speak; he nods instead, staring at his shoes.

"well," you say, at a loss for words. "i mean, he's tiny. what's he gonna do to me?"

his head snaps up and the intensity of his gaze catches you off-guard. "don't underestimate him. you can't. he – he can do more than hurt you. he'll ruin you.

"no, no – don't roll your eyes," he snaps. "i know, i sound paranoid, but you haven't even been here for six months. you haven't seen what i've seen." his focus flickers to your surroundings, and he seems uncomfortable even when he leans in to whisper. "please. keep away from him, don't tell anyone about us, and for the love of god, stop visiting my house after curfew. he's whip-smart – he notices it once, he'll catch on like that." he snaps his fingers. "also, we have a change of plans. mark's off the table – jimin wants him."

at that, the corners of your mouth turn down. you cross your arms. "not if i get there first."

"baby – baby, look at me. you can't risk it."

"fuck," you hiss between your teeth. you clear your throat and wipe the expression off your face, flawless neutrality taking its place. it still simmers under your skin, but it's always easier to sweep something under the rug than clean it up. "fine. i can bring a friend over tonight instead. it'll be easy enough – these sheep will follow me anywhere. we can... have him for dinner."

taehyung's eyes glimmer, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. the worry's sloughed off his shoulders for now, and that's as good as you can hope. "i've always loved your lamb steaks. i've been waiting for this – for you. i'll be at yours by seven sharp."

"wear your pretty clothes," you hum almost offhandedly as you survey your fellow students. there's not a care in the world in those empty heads. "something black – and sexy."

taehyung flicks his bangs out of his eyes. "everything i wear is sexy. you'd do well to remember that."

"yes, dear."

—

his hands shake. that oil-heat, sweat-sheen, bone-crunch. his breath rattles through his lungs like the tongue of a too-small bell.

the weight of the kitchen knife in his hand is too much – he lifts it, and it tilts forward dangerously, trembling in his red-wet palm. the silver glimmers and flickers under the yellow shed lights.

a warmth behind him, a sturdy presence – tender hands slide down his arms, tracing him from collarbone to wrist like a delicate porcelain doll. they fold around his slim fingers, big scarred knuckles too worn to be a boxer's – they wear gloves for protection.

"split the skin shallow, so you don't pierce the meat," you murmur, your breath hot against his ear. you guide his hands with your own, slowly pressing down until the pop of released pressure signifies the beginning of the cut. "all the way down, just like that... good. you slip the knife under the skin and peel it back, making a scything or slicing motion to cut the membrane. long, slow strokes to control the angle of the blade. you want the meat nice and lean."

the night is still and silent outside, not a cricket or dog to be heard. the rushing of taehyung's pulse is loud enough for them all. he can feel your excitement against him – the quickened breathing, the thudding heart, the hitched gasp when his grip tightens on the knife and steadies.

"perfect," you croon in his ear, an undercurrent of a growl echoing beneath your words. "take your time. i want your first time to be..."

you shift against him, and he feels something prod his backside. he bites down on the inside of his cheek to silence himself and takes a deep, shaky breath, pressing down with the knife. sinew and muscle part easily under the sharpened blade.

"it's easier," he whispers, barely a breath, "than i thought it would be."

"you're doing very well, but remember, i'm guiding you. you won't find a better person to teach you."

your hands are big and knowledgeable over his own, each arc of the knife steady and precise. the blood warms his skin up to the knuckles, but it pales in comparison to your own, smeared up past your wrists in a deep ruby red. a bucket by the leg of the table is full of gore, intestines wrapped around a bladder and stomach and hacked-off chunks of fat. it was a job too bloody and slippery to give to your pretty shrike.

"this will be your steak," you hum, stroking the heavy, lick-wet cut of meat almost reverentially. you press your lips to his shoulder, then to his temple. he can feel your smile against his skin. "perfect knifework. it's almost as if you've done it before."

"well, it's like you said," taehyung breathes, gently placing it in the metal bowl at the top of the table. a secondary bowl beside it is already filled with some lesser cuts of meat, which you'd done to kill time before his arrival. "there's no better person to teach me."

he turns around in your arms, carefully linking his bloodied fingers behind your head. he noses your jaw, his lips brushing over yours. the strappy black top he wears clings to him like a second skin, and the gap between it and the top of his pants reveals his toned stomach, flexing now as he presses his hips against your thigh. he whines softly as you knock his knees apart and slide your leg between his with a teasing grin.

"no need to play coy, beautiful," you purr, digging your palms into the edge of the table. "if you want it, just ask."

"but where's the fun in that?" he gasps as you nip the soft skin of his neck, canines making reds and purples bloom across his sun-kissed skin. "o-oh – y-you know you shouldn't do that, baby. not so high."

with a furrowed brow, you growl softly, slowly rocking your thigh against him. "rules, rules, rules... why does he dictate your life like this? scared of being tossed aside?"

taehyung shakes his head, his head falling back with a moan. for someone who doesn't like being marked up, he sure does make it easy. he exhales as your breath trails up his throat and over his jaw. "he's not. he doesn't."

"yet you pretend as if we've never met when he's around, and you don't say anything when he forbids you from working with your hands. he thinks you should stay clean and pretty because he likes it that way. he holds you back, and you let him."

you punctuate your words with a fist around his throat, slowly pressing in. the flush that'd dusted his chest and neck while working the knife spreads to the apples of his cheeks, sweet and shy. his breath catches, and he looks up at you through the dark forest of his lashes.

you can almost understand jimin's rules. someone as beautiful as him shouldn't need to mar his skin with stains and calluses. that he still desires it – desires to delve deep into the marrow of mortality, watch it squeeze out between his knuckles – turns your stomach, in sickness or adoration.

"i'm sorry," taehyung nearly whimpers, panting short and shallow as his blood-slick hands scramble at your shoulders and chest. his eyes are black with lust and his pulse throbs under your fingers. "i know. i just don't want to upset him. i care about him."

you don't look away when you grab one of his hands, resting over your heart. you lift his knuckles to your lips and, under the heavy haze of hunger, he watches as you wrap your lips around two of his fingers. your cheeks hollow, and your tongue swirls slowly around each joint, as if savouring more than the iron taste.

he swallows thickly as the hand around his throat shifts, less to choke and more to pull close. his heartbeat thuds at the back of his throat.

pinned between your body and the table, the tiny shed door locked behind you, he realises suddenly what it must feel like to be your prey. you have a visceral animal strength about you, muscles like steel cable wound tight, always on the brink of snapping. only the patience of a tiger in wait keeps the mask from slipping, breaking.

your canines graze his finger, held firm in the heat of your mouth. the look in your eye says it wouldn't take much to release that perfectly wound tension, to let the slick nubs of your teeth open him up.

the look in his eyes invites you to.

eventually, you pull away, a satisfied smile splitting your face. you crush your lips against his, nicking his lower lip, and he moans at the warm iron flooding his mouth. greedily, your tongue laps at the stinging cut.

"fuckin' perfect," you husk, gaze flickering down to the red smeared over his throat and jaw, then further down to the obvious bulge in his pants. you snicker. "hm. need help with that?"

"please." he reaches down, as if to undo the buttons right there and then.

you grab his wrists and tut. "sweetheart, not over our dinner. you know better than that."

he groans. "it's your fault for driving me crazy!"

in response, you just laugh and grab the bowls of steaks. it's a surprisingly light sound even though you were ready to eat him up mere moments ago. "come on, then. we've got all the good cuts already. head in and put these in the fridge; i'll deal with the carcass. i'll be quick, i promise."

"you better be," he mutters, loosening the latch on the door. "i'll kill you otherwise."

when you open the door to your bedroom, halfway through drying your hands on a tea towel, you are greeted by the sight of an angel on your bed, long slender legs spread just for you. you toss the towel onto a nearby chair and lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. you let out a slow, appreciative wolf whistle, smirking when taehyung's eyes snap open and he bolts upright. he relaxes at the sight of you, one hand already slipping back between his thighs.

"you're not much of a gentleman, leaving me alone to entertain myself. you have to make it up to me."

"demanding little thing." you click your tongue, leaving the door open and approaching him on the bed. he leans back against the piled-up pillows, sighing softly as his fingers slip back inside himself. they do so with whorish ease, and the smoky darkness of his gaze is smug.

a challenge, then? you can do that.

your fingers glide over the back of a chair, slow and thoughtful. you drag it to the end of the bed and straighten it to face him. he shivers slightly in the warm night as you take a seat, leaning back and spreading your knees. one hand rests casually on your leg and the other props itself up on the armrest, curled in a loose fist.

he pulls his fingers out slightly. you snicker at the confusion in his flickering gaze. "what are you getting up for? i was just getting comfy."

"i—" he falters. almost indifferently, his fingers glide in and out of himself, keeping himself hard while he gathers his thoughts. "but you promised you'd fuck me tonight... killing always did rile you up, red-blooded beast that you are."

"beast?" you parrot, exaggerating a pout. "aw – and here i was, thinkin' i was more than an impressive cock to you." you run your thumb over your nails, your eyes flicking to his open legs and sticking there as he pulls his fingers out to pump his dick twice, thrice. his hand travels back down. "no. i promised no such thing. after all, you've got a date with your pretty boy tomorrow, yeah? don't want him wondering why you're so loose for him, do you?"

he whimpers softly at the mention of it. his fingers dig deeper inside him, upping the pace, and his cock pulses with need. "n-no... i-i mean, i could just say i got a bigger toy..."

"oh, no, sweetheart – if you like a man, never tell them your toy is bigger than them. 'specially them rich types. they bruise easily." you sigh softly, thumb gliding over the edge of your jawline. his twitching cock blushes under the hunger of your gaze and his hole clenches. "you'll just have to wait it out. patiently."

"but i want you." he gasps, the wet squelch of lube making everything ten times dirtier. his breath quickens and he adds a third finger, shuddering at the stretch. "ah– baby, please, i've already been doing this for ages—"

"i didn't ask you to."

"your fingers are thicker than mine," he whines, eyes growing big and ever-so-slightly teary. he's good, you'll give him that. the slight lip tremble, the shaky breaths. you could make him cry properly. he's always been a pretty crier. you wonder if his eyeliner will run.

he sinks his fingers in until the knuckle and he moans, bucking onto his fingers. "god, won't you just fuck me already? why touch yourself when you can touch me? i can see how hard you are!"

you lift your hand off the bulge in your jeans and undo your belt teasingly, thoughtfully – as if you might take him up on that tasty, tasty offer. you lean back in the chair and exhale softly as you free yourself from the confines of your underwear. your cock taps your stomach and taehyung keens, unable to tear his eyes off of it as you wrap your hand around its base, stroking shallowly.

"w-wait," he gasps, beginning to pull his fingers out, "wait, i wanna – let me—"

"no," you say sharply, movements halting. "sit back. i didn't tell you to stop."

"but i can—"

"taehyung."

he quietens, chastened but obedient. he gnaws on his lower lip as his hand returns to its rightful place. he quivers as he watches your palm smooth over your tip and slide back down, precome bubbling from the slit. he can feel his own smearing over his bare stomach, hotter than his warm skin.

instinct takes over. over and over. over and over.

he's such a good boy for you – he's wasted on a creature like jimin. then again, are you really better than him? just the same, you've denied him his basest needs. to part flesh with steel, impart bliss with lust – you've just dropped one piece of control for another.

no. you can be better. you are better.

taehyung gasps sharply as you all but lunge at him, pinning him to the bed by his throat. his golden hair haloes him on the crumpled white blankets, like a gilded apollo so gently posed against marble. he blinks slowly up at you, eyes soft with worship and dark with desire, and kisses the thumb tracing the cupid's bow of his lips, a hand curled around your wrist. the other reaches for you.

you groan softly as he pumps your cock, twisting his wrist expertly. your belt buckle clinks and he giggles, eagerly reciprocating your greed. he hooks his legs loosely around your thighs.

"and you were the one preaching patience," he hums as you lean away to tug your shirt over your head. it gets tossed into a corner without so much as a glance and taehyung flushes at the view, half-lidded gaze raking every inch of revealed skin like a man starved. "oh..."

"how many times have you seen me shirtless?"

"not enough." he grabs your hand and pulls you into him, his hands locking behind your head and tugging you into a heated kiss. "you're also not bloody enough for my liking."

without waiting for a response, his teeth clamp down in the junction between your neck and shoulder, where the meat is soft and muscle is taut.

pain blooms like a shard of ice, sudden and sharp. a decisive movement, it left no room for bruising. taehyung groans, guttural, and digs his teeth in deeper, if only to keep the wound open for longer. his fingernails print stinging crescents into your biceps and he whimpers, eyes rolling back, as you shove his head into your neck, forcing the blood down his throat.

melting heat and iron, the sharp tang dissolving into sweetness – his tongue laps at the oozing wound, the arc of his teeth imprinted forever into your skin until the white of your bones will gleam under the midday sun.

when you allow him to pull away, his eyes are black, dazed and blissful. he smiles from ear to ear, teeth red and stained down the chin and throat, and crushes his lips against yours, tangling your hair in his grip and moaning sinfully loudly. his cock throbs, crushed between your bodies, and he bucks against your shaft, the vein on the underside catching against the ridge of your tip with a shuddering bolt of pleasure.

"i'm yours! i'm yours, all yours," he whispers fervently, obsessively. his tongue swipes over his lower lip, the oily heat marking him just like a sheep bloodying the muzzle of a wolf.

he smiles. he laughs. he presses your foreheads together, his stomach slick with his orgasm, and kisses you again, this time sitting upright in your arms.

"you're good to me. so, so good to me." he leaves the print of his lips against your throat and jaw like a jealous girlfriend, your own blood a perfect valentines' red. "fuck me – please? or i could suck you off, if you're still worried about tomor—oh!"

you flip him over and pull his hips towards you, slotted perfectly between your thighs. his own shine with excess lube and you push your cock between his plush thighs, thrusting impatiently to coat it. over his shoulder, he watches, wide-eyed, as you drag a few fingers up your chest towards your shoulder – towards the red bite mark leaking down your chest.

you smear the blood on your cock. taehyung's core throbs – his back arches. he nearly screams as you yank him onto your cock, burying yourself hilt-deep in not-enough thrusts. his mouth falls open as the burn sears its way up his spine and caresses his brain. he swears he can feel you in his throat.

"fuck! fu-fuck," he burbles, crying out as you set a steady pace, your hips slapping against his ass. you push his knees together with your own and his eyes show their whites, mouth open in a perpetual moan. he buries the chants into the pillow, staining it with blood, and his knuckles whiten around fistfuls of blanket as your cock scrapes his insides so deliciously, stabbing and thudding against his prostate. "fuck, oh my god, fuckfuckfuck—!"

you click your tongue, gaze glued to the point where you meet. "you've got a mouth on you, haven't ya? should fuck you until you forget how to talk. that'll clean you right up, nice and ready for your little boytoy. would you like that, sweetheart?"

"fuck, daddy, please, yes please," he whines, letting the pillow swallow the rest of his sounds. the ricochet of skin on skin echoes loudly in the cosy bedroom, and his cock throbs as it swings between his creamy thighs. shit, you could watch the ripple of his ass until the day you died, and none of it would be wasted time. you're beginning to suspect he has a stronger hold on you than you thought.

your shoulder stings like a bolt of clarity and you growl, grabbing and pulling his hips to meet your thrusts. he whimpers at the sound. "what an obedient pup. a little eager, but i s'pose that's normal, given that tonight was your first time." you huff and slap his thigh, making him yowl and his hips jerk. "wasted, you are. such steady hands. i could use someone like you."

"y-yes, yes, use me – ah, ah – love being used! mmn—!"

"not quite what i was saying, but i'll let it slide." you slam your hips into him and he chokes on it, letting his head falls limply to the pillow. he hasn't felt your cock in so, so long – he can't believe he'd almost forgotten how good it felt, how it filled him up just right to knock his brains out. you gripped him so tightly, too, as if he might get up and leave at any time – but you should know by now that he'll always be the one running back to you, that sick glint in your eye only making him swoon harder.

you had a few bad habits, sure. a few dark fantasies. but so did taehyung. and now he had your blood in him – your essence, the purest part of you – which could never be taken away, even if the elders found out about your relationship. they could take you, but not the part of you that you'd planted deep inside him. they'd never be able to dig it all out. you were a rot to their perfectly-tended garden, and taehyung wouldn't let you be cut out so easily – not when you were so sweet on the tongue.

he licks his lips, the faint taste of what remains fluttering his heart. he'd been careless with his moans, the cries of your name like a prayer. he found so many little deaths with you, and the best ones came screaming.

suddenly, emptiness – you pull away, hand slipping out of his. you halt, stiller than the dead.

hoarsely, taehyung whispers your name, a whine on the tip of his tongue. "n-no... so close, was so close, please..." he turns around.

his heart drops like a stone.

"hello," says jimin, in a voice like silk.

"baby, put the knife down," taehyung stammers, all pleasure doused by the sight of that too-big blade pressed up against your throat. "don't."

"why should i?" he adjusts it, nicking a fine pink line beneath your ear. red beads along it like a string of pearls. "he's a killer. he must be cleansed, same as the rest."

unconsciously, taehyung wipes his mouth, as if your influence on him could be removed so easily. he can still feel the heat of it pulsing against his lips. "but he's mine."

you roll your eyes, hands open and half-raised. of all the things he could've said...

yet, it seems to give him pause. the kitchen knife almost loosens – almost. he tugs your hair roughly, punishingly, and you grunt as the blade whispers against your skin. you have half a mind to teach him a bloody hard lesson, but taehyung might not like that.

"wait!" taehyung darts forward, hand outstretched. he slumps on the bed in front of jimin, gripping the sheets. "how – how did you find us?"

"i followed your ex," jimin replies, observing the wet blood painting half of your chest. the red against your skin is rather pretty... and it's in the shape of taehyung's teeth. "this mark is good at covering his tracks. not so much for those of others."

taehyung's eyes widen. no. you promised to stay away from his ex! then again, he never did see the face of the meat he was cutting up... and you weren't one to be one-upped by the likes of jimin.

"he's not a mark," he pleads, "not officially. he could join us! how many people has he already killed? how long did it take for you to realise? you only found him because he was too rash with this one."

jimin's eyes narrow. "all that tells me is that he grew cocky and let his guard down."

"the mark was cruel to me. he did it for me," taehyung implores, his eyes earnest. "he loves me. and i love him. put down the knife. initiate him."

you frown. initiate?

for a long time, jimin says nothing. he doesn't move.

he lifts the knife. taehyung's eyes widen.

he raises his hands in surrender. he huffs and crosses his arms, drumming his fingers against his arm as he cocks a hip. his skirt and knitted vest give him the impression of a private-school kid, although the short sleeves of the dress shirt seem a touch too tight to be unaltered. he wears a shiny pair of tall, heeled mary janes, but you hadn't heard him until the knife was at your throat. odd.

"fine," he drawls, eyeing you with a slight curl to his upper lip. "you have two minutes to convince me. you're so lucky i like you, tae. wh—i mean, why do you even care? you said he wasn't your type."

"well," he searches carefully for the right words, "things change. and he fucks me the way i like it. you can't tell that from a glance."

jimin's gaze strays briefly downwards, over the shine of blood and flexing muscle. you're still hard, and when his gaze flicks up to meet yours, your lips twitch up into a smirk. you adjust your undone jeans and cross your arms.

eventually, jimin steps closer, reaching out curiously to prod at the bite mark. ruby red oozes, and he watches closely as your eyes flutter briefly shut. his tongue glides over his glossy lower lip. "hm... but he's still a killer. i don't know what makes him more useful to me alive."

it's as if a lightbulb flashes over taehyung's head.

he leans forward, resting a hand on your thigh. he tilts his head against your hip. "maybe you can... try him. see from my perspective."

"i'm not getting on my knees," jimin scowls immediately, "not for a sinner."

"but you don't mind it when i do?"

jimin opens his mouth. he closes it. he throws his hands in the air, knife waving around carelessly. "we're not the same! i'm already doing you a kindness by letting him live this long. i should be flaying him right now for tainting your body with his filth. you're supposed to be pure. unsullied."

"pure?" you repeat, scoffing. you can only stay quiet for so long. "oh, you lot are crazy-crazy. worse than me."

his eyes narrow and his knuckles whiten on the knife handle. taehyung shoves himself between you, gripping your hand in his own. "no! stop it, both of you! if you kill each other, who's gonna take care of me? i'm still hard."

he's the perfect height for you. you prop your chin on his shoulder with a lazy grin, wrapping your arms loosely around his waist. you play with his cock, making his breath stutter. "you're right as always, sweetheart... how cruel is he for cockblocking you? you deserve everything in the world and more..."

jimin's fingers twitch. taehyung bucks shallowly against you, but you keep him firmly in place as you stroke his cock, already sensitive. you kiss his neck. you haven't taken your eyes off of jimin.

he presses his thighs together as taehyung lets out a soft whimper.

"come on, sweet thing," you croon into his ear, cupping his chest and grazing his nipple. "don't you want my cock?"

gulping, he tries not to show how affected he is by the hardness pressing against his ass. "a-ah, um..."

"what was that?" you flick your wrist roughly and taehyung's eyes shoot open. blood fills his mouth from a bitten cut in his cheek.

nervously, he lifts his eyes to jimin's. his gaze is fixed on your hand and the way it engulfs taehyung's cock, flicking over his slit and grazing the veins with your nails. "i want – i w-want..."

"say it, tae."

the words come not from your lips, but jimin's. two fingers slip into taehyung's ass and he jolts with a sweet moan as you curl them.

"i want your cock," he rushes out in one breath. "fuck, i want it so bad."

"even more than your boyfriend's?" your words are sly, coated in a thick layer of faux innocence. "why?"

taehyung doesn't bother answering. you know the answer – so does jimin. he turns in your arms and cups your face in his hands, bringing you down for a desperate, hungry kiss. you thrust your fingers into his hole and he jerks, clamping down around you. you swallow his moans, pumping your fingers teasingly.

"i wonder," you drawl, kissing a trail up taehyung's neck, "if he likes watching. maybe that's why he doesn't want to date you. he wants to sit back and watch as other men ruin your pretty little body – after all, it's hard to enjoy the faces you make when preoccupied with doing all the real work."

the sharp intake of breath and the way he clenches around you tells you what you want to hear. he looks up at you with those dark, dark eyes, his breath quick and shallow, and leans into it when you sit him down on the bed with a creak. swiftly, he turns over, arching his back and wiggling his ass. he gazes back at you with huge eyes as you remove your pants. he's almost shy – though the twitching cock leaking down his thigh is anything but. red and angry, it demands attention.

you glance at jimin. the knife's still in his hand, but the thought of it seems secondary to the sight of taehyung on his hands and knees. you can hardly blame him.

from the edge of the bed, you grab the bottle of lube taehyung had brought with him. you slather a generous amount onto your cock and push a few fingers into taehyung with the remnants, exhaling softly as he pushes his hips back against your knuckles.

"my perfect boy." you scissor your fingers, then slide them out. "c'mon – don't be shy. show your dear jimin how well i stretch you out."

he glances your way sharply. you're already staring at him, grinning in the airheaded, cocky, handsome way that all popular boys seem to know intrinsically. the soft lips, the blood, the way you manoeuvre taehyung's body around yours as if he's a prop to make you look better... every jock knows that rising in the ranks means he needs to talk louder than the next guy, take up more space than the next guy, have prettier girls on his arms than the next guy. they say confidence is key, but that's only good at pool parties where nobody wants to really call anyone's bluff.

you're the only one who does it right. you're the only one with a cock to match that body.

taehyung exhales shakily as he reaches back and parts his asscheeks, fingers digging harder than necessary into the plump meat. he hides his burning face in the sheets as jimin steps closer, and his breath quickens as you tap your cock against his ass, teasing his hole with your tip.

"cute, isn't he? surprisingly sweet, too. thought he'd be more of a brat when i first saw him," you hum, casually stuffing your cock into him in one smooth movement. taehyung yelps and lets out a quivery little moan, his slick walls clenching around your thick cock. he sounds like he's trying not to cry – you sigh patiently and pet his hair before your hands return to their rightful places on his hips to pull him onto you.

his body jolts with each thrust, his muffled cries breathy and whiny. his ass ripples with the slap of your hips. on a particularly rough thrust which has him seeing stars, he whimpers out a "daddy" that has jimin's breath hitching audibly.

"good, baby," you husk, palms gliding down his body appreciatively. you slap his ass – so hard your palm stings – and he chokes, already-wobbly knees giving out beneath him. he catches himself just in time but the angle has your cock driving deeper inside him, oscillating wildly from kissing his prostate to fucking his brain out his ears.

you grab a fistful of his hair and loom over him, your lips brushing his earlobe. his spine arches when you tug roughly, his eyes rolling to show their whites as your cock throbs inside him, each thrust wet and slick. "tell him how you feel, whore," you murmur, soft but loud enough for your voice to carry. he gasps sharply at the title and his aching cock leaks like a faucet into a puddle of his own precome. he shakes his head, embarrassment hot in his core.

you tilt your head. "maybe i'll even let you suck him off."

"it f-feels good," he cries immediately. the quick, precise slapping of skin on skin echoes in the room. "i love your cock! i love tay-taking cock, love being fucked by big cocks – oh god! – 'n' yours is the biggest! love getting stretched wide on your dick, getting fucked 'til it hurts—! i-i never wanna come off, mm, i love being your cockslut – wanna be your bitch, your toy, all yours—" you bury yourself balls-deep in his guts and his mouth falls open, thick white come spurting from his tip; it's almost humiliating how you can make him finish without a single brush against his dick. he smiles, broad and wobbly. "ohhh..."

you peck his cheek, pressing against his back low and heavy like an animal. you grip his jaw. "coming already? don't go passing out on me," you chide, tilting his head in jimin's direction. "look at him. look. there we go. see how hard he is? he must like how obedient you get with me – with your daddy."

heat floods his body to the marrow. you've never used that title on yourself before – it's always been taehyung's thing, something you don't mind only because it's him. the raking burn of pleasure hurts, blooming from his cock all the way up his spine and out to his fingers and toes.

possession. it spins in taehyung's jumbled mind. you fuck him like you want to bruise your name inside him, forcing him to think of you and only you even when jimin sits on that chair in front of him, a perfectly manicured hand wrapped around his leaking length, just begging to be touched.

briefly, taehyung wonders how you might fuck jimin. he's giving you his infamous bedroom eyes, but there's an acrid darkness that taints his gaze. jealousy? inadequacy? scorn? taehyung's thighs are hot and sticky.

maybe you'd be rougher with him, tie him up and fold him in half with his legs over your shoulders. even as he distantly obeys your whispered order to open his mouth, and even as jimin slides his velvety cock between his lips, he can't stop imagining you behind jimin, manhandling him and forcing him to ride you to get off, even though jimin's such a pillow princess.

you grip taehyung's hips, sweat shining on your skin. you spread his ass and thrust deeper, smirking when he jerks forward, choking down the rest of jimin's dick and ripping a pleasured curse from his throat.

taehyung's limbs feel like jelly. he braces against jimin's hip, hooking his thumb under the hem of jimin's skirt to pin it back. as he sinks down on his cock, he chances a glance up.

rid of his little sweater vest and unbuttoned down to the navel, jimin does very little to chase his high. he meets taehyung's eyes and tilts his head slightly – he's almost perfectly still, and the only thing he does is gather his skirt in a fist. your quick, snapping pace sets taehyung's, and it's only by the blown pupils and pink-tinged cheeks that taehyung knows he's doing well.

"so," you begin, and your voice is remarkably steady. "did you come here intending to kill me?"

"please, i barely know who you are. there are others—" his breath catches, and he closes his eyes to steady himself "—others who're more deserving of atonement than you. which isn't to say i thought you a paragon of virtue – you're a handsome guy on a sports team, and sin comes to your type like moths to a flame. i knew i'd come to collect eventually, but you surprised me. congrats – not many can."

"did you watch?" you ask, patting taehyung's ass almost fondly. "he did so well with the – what did you call him? your mark? did you see how beautiful he looked, nearly orgasmic as he cut him open and warmed his hands with his blood? you must enjoy it, too – seeing the life fade from your victims' eyes. otherwise, you would've culled me the moment i took your kill."

his eyes narrow. "you're sick."

you laugh. "y'know, you and your little 'cult' aren't slick. i saw how pretty girls and guys don't shy away from the forest or the nasty parts of town because what they can do far outweighs the shard of glass a cokehead waves around. i thought it was a creative writing exercise gone crazy, something to explain the unusual disappearances around here. it was good for me, though. nobody'll raise a fuss if one more douchebag goes missing."

"i should kill you now."

"but then sweet little taehyung would be upset – you heard him." you pout. "besides, you must've liked something about me or you would've gotten rid of me as soon as i ravaged your favourite boytoy. do you have a thing for corruption? is that why you stayed, watched him come as soon as he tasted my blood? if you like, i'll let him bite the other side."

he pulls taehyung's throat down on his cock by his hair. taehyung eagerly laps up every throbbing inch he receives, nails digging into jimin's ass. he jolts and gags slightly as hot come pours down his throat without warning – his eyes flutter shut as his throat bobs, lips pressed against jimin's base.

"oh, i like you," you purr, something of a song lilting your voice. "are you as angry when you take cock, i wonder?"

"try it, i dare you."

you turn your attention to taehyung, who sits jimin's cock in his mouth like a good boy. he suckles softly, dazed and faraway. his walls are soft and hot, each gummy ridge stroking and clamping around you to pull you in as deep as possible when you finally, finally come, forcing him over the precipice as well for the nth time that night.

you pet his hair and he leans into it, moaning as you gently pull out, letting him sink into the mattress. thick come drips down his inner thigh, pooling in the dips of the bed. softly, you groan, gathering yourself and lavishing kisses upon kisses over his neck and shoulder. "what do you think, baby? should i fuck the cultist freak?"

taehyung pops off wetly, licking his lips. his chest heaves. it's hard to scoop his brain up off the floor, but the thought of the two people hottest people he knows putting on a show, all for him? "p-please..."

you raise your eyes, and meet jimin's glare with a smirk. "you heard him. don't wanna disappoint, do we?"

"you think you deserve to fuck me? after everything you've done? you don't even kill for a reason," he scoffs. "you're no better than an animal."

"what is it with you and prettyboy here thinking i'm less than human? you cower behind your righteous moral justifications when you take a life and hold me to the same standards, but animals don't have morals. i can only be one, baby, so choose."

jimin glowers.

"you've got me in a box," he admits eventually, and his expression twists as your smile turns gloating. "shut up. you can fuck me – just this once."

"those are dangerous gambling words," you tease, but lay back against the headboard, one hand behind your head and the other wrapping around the base of your cock. your absence above him makes taehyung blink – hard – before he shuffles after you like a sleepy puppy and buries his face in your shoulder.

his thighs still twitch every now and again, and he lifts his unfocussed gaze to meet jimin's. it clears, just enough, for a fat, satisfied grin to spread across his face and he shifts to spread his shaky legs, showing off the warm glazed mess between his thighs like a piece of art.

jimin's cock throbs. taehyung grins lazily, knowingly, eyes half-lidded and hungry. he slides your slick cock between the vee of his fingers and flicks his wrist. a pearl of precome beads along your slit and follows the line of a vein, gathering eventually along taehyung's slender finger.

unwise, a voice whispers in his head, regal and maternal, yet youthful.

with a sigh too breathy to be accidental, taehyung splays his fingers over his lips and tilts his head back, taking one finger at a time against his scarlet tongue to clean it. his lashes graze his cheeks. his eyes are black corridors of velvet, and he gives jimin's invisible leash a tug with a curl of his pretty fingers.

it was never that taehyung made it too hard to say no. he made it far too easy to say yes.

#no one look at my lack of header please i'll fix it soon i just lost my hdd with the files </3 #top male reader #x male reader #male reader #dom male reader #dom reader #top reader #bts x male reader #bottom bts #bottom taehyung #taehyung x male reader #kpop x male reader #bts x reader #kpop x reader #bts smut #taehyung smut #bottom jimin #jimin x male reader #jimin smut

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rhyrhy · 21 days ago

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Slut me out˚ · .˚ ༘🦋⋆｡˚

Football! Fuckboy! Abby Anderson x female reader!

Cw: angst, toxic behavior, language, mean! Abby, college/ modern setting Abby!, no talks on body or race specifics! (New characters!)

MDNI! Mlist

Chapter three: Defense and offense (part 5 out now)

December 8th, 8:30 pm.

It had been almost two weeks since you’d heard from her. She had no intention on keeping her promise. It was all temporary. Regardless, Her reputation or not she owed you an explanation.

You made your way to the door of her dorm and thumped harsh knocks on her door. Buzzing with hurt and disappointment that you let yourself be so delusional.

The door swung open, and there she stood—eyes narrowed, hair slightly disheveled, wearing nothing but a sports bra and sweatpants. She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms as her eyes flicked over you. Then she rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath.

“Yeah?”

You opened your mouth to let her have it. this was ridiculous, she fucks you twice and then acts like you don’t exist? Hell no, you werent some slut to be used and thrown away. This didn’t even feel like her. It was like you were staring at a stranger. She cared, right? This wasn’t just the long game… right? The date, the apology, the way she held you—it wasn’t just in your head.

Right?

but before you could speak, your gaze drifted past her shoulder. There, in the corner of the room, tangled in her sheets. A girl, hair draped over the pillows, half dressed, without a care in the world.

Wrong

“What?” She gestured for you to speak. as she leaned against the doorframe, like she didn’t owe you a damn thing. As if she had no idea why’d you be at her door…like she hadn’t promised you she’d do better.

So, so wrong.

Your stomach dropped, and whatever fight you had in you evaporated, leaving behind something raw and hollow. Your chest tightened, and you snapped your head back to her face.

“Seriously?” you said louder than expected. You weren’t even sure what you meant by it—seriously, as in the girl in her bed? Or seriously, as in this is how you’re acting now?

She followed your gaze and sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “Jesus, This is what you’re here for? To snoop through my life like some jealous—”

She Stopped herself and continued ,“look, you can’t ’seriously’ be mad because I have a life outside of you?”

Your stomach churned at the casual way she dismissed everything. The way she always dismissed everything. “A life?” you repeated, your voice Growing louder. “You mean screwing me and then ghosting me like I’m nothing? Twice!”

Her expression didn’t waver. but there was something almost defensive about the way she crossed her arms tighter over her chest. She shifted so she wasn’t facing you. “I told you what this was,” she said, her tone frim and quiet. “You’re the one who made it into something it’s not.”

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest. all the promises, and sweet words slowly revealing themselves to be nothing but lies. Sugar coated lies.

“Wow. That’s funny, coming from the same bitch who begged me not to leave the last time I was here.”

Abby’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she glanced over her shoulder toward the bed. Like she couldn’t even bear to look at you, and the hurt in your voice. The girl hadn’t moved, still lounging as if this whole mess had nothing to do with her. The woman looked nothing like you…maybe you weren’t even her type. how could you be so stupid. Why’d you let her convince this was anything other than another body for her. This clearly meant nothing to her. You meant nothing. Why the hell am I even here right now?

“You know what…you’re right. Forget it..Fuck this”

She didn’t stop you as you turned on your heel and walked away. She didn’t call your name or chase after you. And as much as you wanted to believe that her silence meant nothing, it felt like confirmation of everything you were afraid of. The hallway felt colder as you walked down it, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the empty space.

You had given her the benefit of the doubt. Twice. There wouldn’t be a third time.

——-

Today, January 15th. 2:13pm

The days were starting to blur together. Study-eat-sleep- repeat. This was hell, you needed to go out. So, you texted your ‘bestie’ group-chat and prayed they’d want to come out and do something other than your routine and occasional hurt from the Abby Anderson web you found yourself in.

Layla and charity, girls you met during freshman year and it’s been history since then.

With little to none convincing you found yourself hoping into the backseat of Layla’s car, on the way to some Italian restaurant she picked out.

“Looking good as always, babe,” she said with an approving nod. “And don’t even start me on this week—a total crapfest. We need this night out.”

You gave them both your usual giddy greeting and compliments. Feeling much better already. Abby was now miles away from your thoughts. Charity spun around to face you, her cheeks pink from the compliment. She gave her hair a little flip, admiring how the layers framed her face

“Yeah! I got tired of the long and flat , so I decided to switch it up,” she said, sounding quite pleased with her new haircut you pointed out.

The drive to the Italian place was filled with nonstop chat and laughter. We caught up on all the latest gossip, talked about upcoming classes and parties, and even took a moment to sing along to your favorite tunes. By the time you pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, everyone was in high spirits, the earlier worries and gloom seemed far away. You all piled out of the car, the cool air a slight contrast to the warmth inside the vehicle. The Italian restaurant loomed ahead, its warm lights spilling onto the pavement. It had a cozy, family feel, like a little piece of Italy transported into our town.

You placed orders for the group, feeling your stomach rumbling. Once the orders were placed, you all found a booth by the window that gave us the perfect view of the bustling street outside. We all settled into the cozy leather seats. While Layla and Charity chatted about something funny that happened in their shared psych class. When, in the corner of your eyes were you spotted a familiar figure outside the restaurant.

Abby. The same Abby who you haven’t seen in weeks. Abby Anderson.

She was standing across the street, standing in front of a sleek black car that you didn’t recognize, talking to a few of her teammates. You snapped your gaze back to your friends. ‘Just ignore her’ you repeated in your head. However, Charity suddenly noticed the expression shift. her cheerful demeanor faltering.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, her voice dropping to a soft, concerned tone. “You look like someone just spit in your food.” Layla, too, glanced out the window, her eyes following my gaze, her expression turning more curious as she saw who you were looking at.

“Nothing, sorry, what were you saying?” You brushed off. Layla gave you a skeptical look, obviously sensing you hiding something. She was about to prod further, but Charity cut her off, continuing with her story.

“I was talking about Professor Jones, she’s a total hardass. I’m convinced she’s out to get me.”Charity’s words broke through the worrisome expression you had, and you managed a small laugh, forcing yourself to focus on the conversation instead of the scene outside. Charity continued her story, talking about the professor and her seemingly personal vendetta against her, while Layla chimed in every now and then with a sarcastic comment or remark. Meanwhile, your mind kept wandering back to Abby outside, praying she wasn’t coming inside.

The universe must have heard your prayers and wanted to pull your leg.

Just as Charity got to the punchline of her story, the restaurant door opened, and in walked a few more members of the football team, including her. They headed toward the table right across from us, their laughter filling the room. Your heart sank as you realized you couldn’t ignore her after all. Shit shit shit!

Charity, always oblivious to tension, kept talking. She was mid-sentence when one of the football players let out a loud laugh, and while fixing her jacket abbys eyes flicked towards your table, locking with yours for a brief moment. You felt your heart stop. Both of your expressions were unreadable. Her expression shifted slightly, going from lighthearted to something more guarded, a flicker of recognition in her eyes. One of her teammates, a guy with a cocky smile, called out to her.

“Yo, Anderson! Who you looking at?”

Abby forced a smile, her eyes still glued to you for a second, before she turned her head, waving him off“No one. Just someone I recognize,” she replied casually.

No one..no one.. NO one? you had to keep your cool so you keep your gaze at your own table.

Layla and Charity had gone silent at this point, their eyes darting between you and Abby , sensing the tension building. Charity looked downright nervous, while Layla had a look of concern. Needing to save face you pretend you couldn’t hear the conversation a few feet away.

“Char, you said something about a party..?”

You let Abby fade into the background as much as you could. A campus party sounded like a recipe for disaster, but your friends always made things fun so maybe it would be a good distraction. You cracked a few laughs, heartbeat returning to normal.

“Yeah, This is going to be fun…I could definitely use some fun after this week” Layla nodded sympathetically, sensing the underlying meaning in your words. Charity chimed in, a sympathetic frown on her face.

"Aw,, I’m sorry things have been stressful lately. That sucks..." She looked at you, her eyes filled with genuine concern. Layla, too, placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Come with me and lay to the football game this Friday, it’ll be fun. We can take cute pictures”

"Yes! And ..You know you can talk to us anytime, right?"

“Yeah, I know….its just…you guys would kill me if I told you what I did this time” you had to get the weight off, even though you knew they’d ring your neck.

Layla rolled her eyes. “Oh God, what did you do?” she questioned, obviously preparing herself for the worst. Charity looked concerned, but also intrigued at the same time. They watched you sink into the booth in slight embarrassment before speaking.

“We listen and we don’t judge, okay?”

Layla held up a hand, an exaggerated expression of seriousness and understanding on her face.

"Promise, girly." *She said. Charity repeated the gesture, adding an extra dramatic flair with a solemn nod.

You flicked your eyes to Abby’s table with her teammates then back to them. Preparing yourself for the reactions they were going to give.

“Speaking of Friday…I might…have…fell…into the..Anderson trap..like an Idiot”

Silence fell at the table, Charity’s eyes widening with shock, Layla with her jaw dropped. After a moment of processing, they both erupted at the same time.

“NO!” “YOU WHAT?!” “WHEN DID—“

You cut them off and shushed them. Charity had a hand clamped over her mouth, eyes as wide as saucers. Layla was still trying to process the information, her face looking like she was in shock.

“Sorry, sorry!” Charity whisper-shouted, still looking shocked.

“How—I mean…you—” Layla sputtered and stammered, clearly unable to form a coherent sentence.

Meanwhile, the table across the room had gone quieter, and you swore you saw abbby glance over in your direction again. God this was torture.

Layla’s eyes flicked to the table, realizing the soccer team was within earshot. She leaned forward, dropping her voice even lower. “Are you serious? You and—” she cut herself off, obviously trying to choose her words carefully, even though she looked like she was going to burst. Charity, however, had no such tact and blurted out, “You and Abby?”

After explaining the situation they turned their faces to looks of irritation towards how things turned out and sympathy.

“Maybe you didn’t make the best choice,” charity said carefully. “But we all do things we regret sometimes. We’re here for you, whatever happens.” Layla sat back in the booth, her expression still a mix of frustration and worry. She glanced over at Abby again, a look of pure annoyance crossing her face.

“And dude, Of course she made it seem genuine,” she said in a frustrated tone. “That’s what she does. She knows exactly how to charm her way into your head…and pants.”

Layla gave you an understanding look before chiming in. "I've seen her play around with girls before…She gets them to buy into whatever line she's selling, then leaves them heartbroken just as fast as she swept them off their feet." She paused and relaxed her shoulders “She wasn’t always like that, especially not sophomore year. Ugh, What is her deal”

———

You felt a bit more relaxed getting the situation off your shoulders. Your friends had moved topics to keep these light and mindful of the table a few feet away. Needing a breather you made your way toward the restrooms, the buzz of conversations and laughter filled your ears. The lighting was dim, casting long shadows across the floor. You pushed open the door and stepped into the quiet, empty bathroom. For a brief moment, you were alone, the silence a stark contrast to the noise outside…until the door opened again, and someone else walked in.

You glanced back to see who had entered. The door closed with a soft click, revealing a familiar face. Abby, had stepped into the bathroom, her long limbs moving with an ease that could almost be described as a prowl. She hadn’t noticed you yet, her back to you. Can’t I have two seconds to myself!- those thoughts were cut off.

Abby walked up to the sink next to you, still seemingly oblivious to your presence. She leaned forward, redoing the end of her braid, her eyes on her own reflection. Her proximity was enough to make your heart pound, the memories of the previous night rushing back to you. A few moments passed in an almost painful silence. Her profile was just as striking as always, those sharp jawlines and long lashes making your stomach flutter and tighten despite your best efforts to remain calm.

Finally, her eyes flickering towards you in the mirror for a brief second. There was a flash of something you couldnt place in her expression, but she didn’t say anything for a few moments. Instead, she simply continued fixing her hair, her cool demeanor not wavering despite the fact that she’d now seen you.

after what felt like an eternity, she spoke. Her voice was almost painfully casual, lacking any hint of the same closeness you'd felt before.

“Hey”

when you didn’t reply she paused again. She shifted slightly, her reflection in the mirror flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. A hesitation. An uncertainty. But it was gone as quickly as it came.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” she said, trying for lightness but failing.

“Mm,” you replied, nonchalantly

Her brow furrowed slightly, the silence stretching between you. She leaned against the sink, her gaze flicking to yours in the mirror. “You’re not gonna say anything?”

The word came out flat, but you meant it. You weren’t going to make this easy for her—not after everything.

Abby exhaled sharply, pushing a hand through her braid. “You really think this is how I wanted things to go?”

You didn’t respond. Just stared at her, your jaw tight, refusing to give her anything.

“You think it was easy for me?” she said finally, her voice low but steady. “You think I don’t—” She stopped herself, exhaling harshly. “Forget it. You’ve already made up your mind.”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice clipped, sharp as glass.

Abby flinched at your tone, her jaw tightening. For a second, it looked like she might say more, but she stopped herself, her eyes falling to the sink.

——

God, Friday was going to be a mess.

——

Mini Tag list : @grey-jedi12

#wlw smut #x reader #abby x fem!reader #fem reader #abby anderson #abby tlou #lqbtq

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justagalwhowrites · 3 days ago

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Halcyon - Ch. 22: Everything With You

You and Joel are together in a way you've never been before. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 21, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTTTTTTT! This is smut, y'all. Mild violence. Mention of manipulation in a past relationship. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5.7k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter

You’d never had a man in your bed before.

The night you’d lost your virginity to Joel, you’d been in the press box of the football field at your high school. Then, when you went to college, it wasn’t like Gale came to your dorm to fuck you. He had a house and privacy and a king sized bed. You went to his place and, when you moved in, it was still his in so many ways, including his bed. It had never really felt like yours.

This house was the first one that had been really, truly yours, with a bed you’d bought yourself after trying out a few at the store and learning that, actually, you hated how firm Gale’s mattress was and you liked something softer, something that cradled and held you after a long day.

The closest thing to a lover this bed had known was the rare night that Joel had slept over, before anything had happened between you this time.

But it was different now, as you turned in Joel’s arms to face him in a space that was yours - really, truly yours - beside a bed that was your own that you so desperately wanted to share with him. His hands were on your waist and you draped your arms around his neck, curving and arching your body against his. His eyes ranged over your face again and again and you pressed yourself closer, so your noses were brushing and his gaze was locked on yours. You held it, moving slowly until your lips pressed softly to his and he groaned as he kissed you back, his hold on you tightening. It was tender but needy, an undercurrent of desperation on his tongue and you savored that, knowing now that it was sparked by the fact that he loved you. Joel loved you.

“Baby,” he said softly after he eventually, almost reluctantly, pulled away from you enough to speak, your body still clutched to his. His fingers gripped you tighter. “Is it OK if I undress you? I really need to see you, baby. I need to feel you.”

You just nodded, your breaths shaky, and watched as he started to pull your clothes off.

This was different, too. Every other time Joel had undressed you, it had felt like a pretense, just a mad dash to get each other naked as quickly as possible because all that stood between you and the release of an orgasm was fabric and time and that’s all it could be. It had to just be physical, never the risk of anything further.

Now, it was like he’d given himself permission to actually want you. He looked between your bodies as he unbuttoned your shirt with trembling hands, fingers moving deliberately to reveal your skin. When every button was undone, he ran the back of his hand over your skin, starting at your navel and moving up, grazing gently and slowly over your stomach and the swell of your breasts until he reached your collar and he gently pushed it down, exposing your shoulder. He brought his mouth to the spot just below your ear, where the hinge of your jaw met your throat and kissed you there, his lips plush and soft on your tender skin. He flattened his palm over your thudding heart and you gasped when he trailed his mouth over your neck, your shoulder, pressing his lips against what felt like every inch of you as his other hand pushed your shirt down there, too. He moved on to your bra, unclasping it deftly and stepping back from you just enough that he could take it off, watching with a look of awe on his face as the cups fell away and revealed you to him.

Before you had a chance to press yourself against him again, he went to his knees in front of you, kissing your stomach as he unbuttoned and unzipped your skirt. You ran your hands through his curls, your heart pounding as he tugged your remaining clothes down with almost agonizing slowness. You had to swallow your anxieties, his eyes locked on your body in places you never wanted to be seen by anyone, least of all him.

But he didn’t seem to mind. The opposite, in fact, touching and watching you with a kind of reverence that felt so foreign it was almost terrifying. He helped you step out of your clothes, guiding your feet so you wouldn’t stumble, before running his hands up your calves, your thighs, digging his fingers into the plush of your hips and ass.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he said softly. “Fuck, I love you.”

You grabbed him as best you could, pulling him back to standing and wrapping around him, pressing your bared skin to his still clothed body and kissing him. You fumbled with his shirt as you did, trying to get at his skin and he chuckled against your lips, pulling back from you enough to look in your eyes, his crooked smile making his cheek dimple as he cupped the crown of your head.

“Take it easy, baby,” he said. “We can take our time. It’s different now, we don’t need to rush.”

“OK,” you breathed, slipping your hands below his shirt to his skin, making him groan and drop his forehead to yours. “But I need to see and feel you, too.”

“OK baby,” he whispered, stepping back just enough from you to tug his shirt up and over his head and it was still balled up in his fist when you pulled yourself back against him, pressing yourself to him, his skin warm and soft on yours and he moaned, his arms wrapping around you, hands on your back, fingers spreading wide over you as though it wasn’t possible to touch enough of your skin. You trailed your nose over his shoulder, lips brushing against him before you pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his chest, one that let you taste his skin and feel his warmth.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, nuzzling against your temple. “You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to touch you like this.”

“Me too,” you said softly before kissing him again and again, working closer and closer to the base of his neck, his breaths quickening as you did.

He guided you backwards then, keeping your body flush to his, until you were back against your bed. You could feel his hard length through his jeans, your nipples firm against his chest and you wanted him. You wanted him so badly it hurt, an insistent ache between your thighs as Joel lowered you to the bed.

You sat on the edge of the mattress, legs spread so Joel was standing between them. You looked up at him, your fingers wrapping around his belt to tug him closer and you watched him watching you in return as you opened his pants and slid them down before tugging the band of his boxer briefs below his swollen cock. Joel’s eyes were wide, pupils blown and you held that wide-eyed gaze as you took just the tip of him into your mouth. You kept watching him as you sucked just the head of him, hollowing your cheeks around his swollen tip. He moaned and you worked your way slowly down his shaft, swallowing up more and more of him, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could, your tongue pressed up against the thick vein that ran along the underside of him. You held him there for a moment, moaning at the way he filled this part of you, too, before you started to fuck him with your mouth. His head tipped back, groaning in bliss as his hand found the back of your head, his fingers gentle against you, not guiding you or controlling you but more holding you just because he could. You could feel him drawing closer to his climax, taste the salt of his pleasure on your tongue and you were addicted to it so much that you tried to take him deeper into yourself, even as it almost made you gag. You were so lost in it that it came as a shock when his hold on you tightened and pulled you firmly yet delicately away from him. You frowned up at him as he panted for breath, his eyes ranging over you.

“Much as I would love to come in that perfect mouth of yours, I need to be inside you,” he said, sounding desperate. He put his knee on the bed beside you and nudged you back, moving with you until you were in the middle of it. “That OK baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed, nodding. “Please.”

He nodded, too, and adjusted you on the bed, spreading your legs wider, panting as he did. His hand trembled as he reached down and softly stroked your slit. His fingers cupped your sex, slowly moving over your skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his middle finger slipping into your folds, finding your entrance and tracing over you, spreading your wetness over you. “Jesus, baby. You’re perfect, fuckin’ perfect.”

You whimpered, closing your eyes, not able to look at him when he was saying things like that to you, it just didn’t seem real. But you could feel him shift over you, one hand coming to the other side of your shoulder, guiding the blunt warmth of his cock over the seam your pussy, the softness of his skin closer now.

“Joel,” you whispered, not sure you could say anything else. His name was a prayer, the only one you knew but that was fine. It was the only one you needed.

“Goldie,” he said, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. “Baby, will you look at me? Please?”

You took a deep, shaky breath and opened your eyes and he was there over you and you couldn’t help but reach up and trail your fingers through his curls. Your eyes met his, so deep and dark and warm and holding everything you’d ever wanted. For as long as you could remember, it seemed, he was everything. He brought himself closer to you, shifting his weight from his hand to his elbow, moving his large palm to cup the crown of your head, his thumb brushing your forehead.

“Can I ask you for something?” He asked softly, almost like it was a secret. You nodded, your eyes ranging over his face, over the arch of his cheekbones and the place you knew his skin would dimple if he smiled and the patches where the scruff of his beard was thinner than the others. “Can… can you say it?”

You frowned, fingers tracing down from his hair to his temple, his jaw.

“Say what?” You asked back.

“Can you say how you feel?” He asked, his voice shaky. “I… I know I said I know you feel it, too, but you haven’t said it and… I… I just…”

“I love you,” you cut him off, cupping his cheek. “I love you, more than anything, I’ve always loved you.”

He moaned and kissed you, claiming you and consuming you and pressing into you, the stretch of his thick length making you gasp into his mouth. He kept his lips on yours until he was fully sheathed inside you, the hand not on your head going to your thigh, hitching your leg over his hip so he could push deeper and hold you closer.

Joel thrust into you like that, firm and desperate, a few times before pulling back from you enough to take a deep, trembling breath.

“I love you, Goldie,” he whispered, not like it was a secret or a shame but instead like it was sacred, something that belonged to no one but yourselves. “Fuck, I love you.”

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him tighter, kissing him as you rocked your hips up against his. The hand over you moved to your face, his thumb notching below your cheekbone and his fingers spreading over the nape of your neck, holding you just so as his other hand ran over your side, finding new places to touch and cup and hold close.

He was heavy inside of you, taking up every space within yourself that had felt so empty for what seemed like the whole of your existence. He moved slow and aching, the rhythm of him gentle and deep. He built your orgasm slowly, drawing the pleasure to the surface from somewhere buried within yourself, a place you’d been afraid to touch before this moment with him. But you gave yourself over to it now, letting yourself fall into him so hard your heart clenched with it as your sex grew tighter around him. Joel rocked himself into your wet heat, pressing his swollen head to the aching place hidden deep inside, a place he’d become so practiced at finding all the times you’d taken him into yourself before but it was different now, everything was different now. For the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to pull away from him as fast as you could before it destroyed you. You could take your time with him and he with you, feeling him in ways you’d never let yourself before, falling impossibly further for him because you weren’t fighting against the tide.

Joel pulled his lips from yours to kiss over your jaw, down to your neck, pressing deeper and harder and you clutched him closer, your fingers digging into his back, your body drawn so tight that you could hardly move, hips pressed up against his to keep him as deep as you could.

“Come for me,” he said, keeping up his slow but firm drumbeat inside you. You groaned in response, not able to come up with anything to say, so far beyond words that everything sounded like a foreign tongue. “You can come, it’s OK love, I’ve got you. Just come, just come for me.”

His hand slipped below you, to the small of your back at first and then just lower, fingers splaying wide and sinking into your flesh as he held you at a precise angle so he could press impossibly deeper, your orgasm taking hold so fiercely that your whole body drew tight and still for a moment before it shot out from the core of you, your channel gripping him so tight that you could feel every ridge and vein of his thick shaft as you pulsed around him.

“Fuck,” he panted, his movements stuttering for a fraction of a second as your climax gripped you both. “There she is, goddamn, just keep… keep… fuck, keep coming for me baby, just like that.”

You could only whimper and keen in response, what little of your body you could control desperately trying to pull him closer, hold him tighter. He gave in to you, pressing further and deeper and harder, your first orgasm never having a chance to fade, only building to another one.

Joel lifted himself from you just enough that he could look in your eyes, his breaths shaky as he watched you for a moment, still so close that his nose brushed yours when he moved inside you.

“It’s you and me, Goldie,” he said, voice trembling with need but sounding sure, so so sure. “You and me. I love you, I want everything with you, please baby. Give me you, all of you, please baby, I want to give you everything, please.”

“You have me,” you ran your hand over his back to his neck, tugging his head down low so his forehead was pressed to yours. Your heart was pounding, your body drawn tight again, pleasure shimmering just below every inch of your skin. “You’ve always had me. You and me, I love you, I’ve always loved you, it’s always been you and me.”

You saw the moment he reached his peak, the way his eyes went a little wider, the way he drew in a sharp gasp of air as his gaze held yours, the throbbing of his cock buried in you to the root setting off your own orgasm. He kissed you then and you could feel him everywhere - deep inside and over you and around you, the thud of his heart sharp against your own chest and you took all of it into yourself, keeping him closer than you’d ever kept anything else until he all but collapsed on top of you, carefully keeping his full weight from crushing you while panting for breath. You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, his softening cock deep inside you, his warm skin silk on yours, your breaths coming into sync when he eventually, reluctantly, gently pulled himself from your body and fell to the mattress beside you.

Unlike when you’d been with him before, there was no hesitation. Joel immediately rolled onto his side to face you and pulled you close, an arm slipping below you to hold you. You turned to face him, too, and the arm underneath you tugged you closer, his other hand going to your knee, hitching your leg up over his hip so he could fit himself between your thighs. That hand ran up over your side, his fingers trailing over the outline of you in a way that was less sexual and more sentimental, like he was memorizing this moment. When he reached your face, he delicately cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the arch of your cheekbone gently. The two of you watched each other in silence for a while, your breaths coming to the same rhythm, your heart no longer feeling like it was threatening to break through your ribs.

“Did you really mean all that?” You asked eventually, quietly.

He laughed a little, his lips tugging up ever so slightly at the edges.

“Yeah, Goldie girl,” he said, just as quietly. “I meant it. Hell, I mean more than that, too. I just ain’t good enough at words to figure out how to say it right so that’ll have to do.”

You laughed a little, rolling your eyes a little.

“What?” He teased. “Not all of us are best selling authors and shit, some of us have to rely on normal human vocabulary to get our feelings across.”

“Sounds hard,” you teased back.

“You have no idea,” he said. “Fuckin’ impossible sometimes.”

You snorted and tucked your chin low to hide it but he nudged you back up so he could see you again, smiling when you gave into his touch. You just marveled at him for a moment, that you were here with him like this, that he wanted you the way you wanted him, too.

“So,” you said after the two of you had been quiet for a few minutes. “What do we do now?”

“Well, if you gimme a bit, think I’ll be good to go again,” he said. You glared at him and he laughed. “Sorry, baby. And I don’t know. But I can tell you what I want to do.”

“OK,” you said. “What do you want to do?”

“Well,” he took a deep breath, holding you close. “I want to do everything with you. I want to get old with you and do the dishes with you and go on vacation with you. I want to marry you and make babies with you and raise those babies with you - assuming you want kids, ‘course. I want to take care of you when you’re sick and make you bagel sandwiches on Sundays and get you pecan praline ice cream on the way home from work when you’re havin’ a shit day. But, you know, for now, I’ll settle for datin’ ya. Unless you wanted to move in now, which sounds great to me. But we can just date for a while if you want. I know I’m asking for a lot, that you’re figuring out a lot. But I know what I want and I’m fine to move at whatever pace you want so you tell me, baby. What do we do now?”

You watched him for a moment, almost waiting for him to tell you that he was kidding, this was all a joke because of course he didn’t want all that with you, especially not right now, but the punchline didn’t come.

“Are you sure?” You asked, brows raised. “I… I work a lot and I’m controlling and I have baggage, Joel, I have so much baggage and…”

“And I don’t?” He asked, still smiling a little, an almost peaceful look on his face. As though everything was solved for him now and he was just waiting for you to catch up. “I have an entire kid, baby, and she’s the best thing that ever happened to me but I understand that a child is a lot to ask someone else to take on. I got a kid, I got a brother who sometimes lands his ass in jail because he picked a fight with the wrong asshole at the bar, I got a business I’m gonna have to get off the ground so I can pay the bank back for the massive loan I just signed for…”

“You got approved?” You gaped at him, giving him a playful smack on the chest. He just laughed and pulled you tight against him. “That’s amazing! See? I knew you could do it.”

“Yeah, I’m still in shock I think,” Joel said. “But when they told me I got it… the first person I really wanted to tell was you. I want to do this with you because everything is better when I do it with you. You make my life so much better by just existing and I want to do everything I can to make your life better, too, and I dunno how good I’ll be at that but goddamn do I want the chance to try.”

You were silent for a second before you laughed, almost maniacally, burying your face in Joel’s chest. There was this swell of warmth inside your ribs that you weren’t sure you’d ever felt before, everything you’d ever wanted laid at your feet.

“You OK down there?” Joel asked, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, a teasing edge to his voice. “I haven’t scared you off or anything, have I?”

“You haven’t,” you said, pulling your face from the warmth and safety of his skin, tears in your eyes. “I just… I want that, too. I want all of it and I want it with you, I’ve always wanted that with you. I’ve always wanted you. I just can’t believe you want me, too.”

He smiled, laughing a little, cupping your cheek before kissing you, soft and deep.

“You’ve got me, Goldie girl,” he said. “Always have, always will.”

***

Joel had you.

He wasn’t entirely sure what time it was - sometime in the late afternoon, he thought - but he wasn’t worried about it. You were in his arms, pressed close and tight and soft, sleeping lightly after the two of you had talked for hours and Joel had slipped inside your warmth a second time and fucked you gentle and slow, your eyes locked on his, just the sound of your breaths and your hearts as he touched you the way he’d always longed to.

Joel had you.

He almost didn’t believe it. After so many years of it seeming impossible, you being here with him like this was like walking on the sun. He wasn’t sure if it would ever seem real but it was. He had you.

The two of you decided to talk to Sarah together the next day. He’d never introduced a woman to her as his girlfriend before and, if it were anyone else, he’d be nervous about that but it was you. Something had settled in him when he heard you say the words “I love you.” It was as though he’d been running toward this his whole life, like everything he’d ever done had been to get him here, and he was exactly where he was supposed to be. He’d never been this happy for anything that didn’t involve his daughter and he wasn’t sure what to even do with so much happiness. But there was a sense of calm in him now. Everything was going to be OK because you were here and you were going to do this with him.

You stirred in his arms, stretching a little before nestling closer to him. He smiled a little, his lips brushing your forehead and you sighed contentedly.

“What time is it?” You asked quietly.

“No idea,” Joel said, giving you a squeeze. You hummed in response and he smiled in spite of himself, at how lucky he was to get to hear you make that little sound. “What’s up baby?”

“I think I’m hungry,” you sighed. “But eating requires moving.”

Joel laughed.

“Not far though,” he said. “If you lemme get my phone, I’ll just order us somethin’…” You groaned in protest and he laughed again. “Be right back, promise. Gotta let me take care of you, Goldie girl.”

He separated from you enough to get his phone and ordered dinner and just kept holding you for a while after and tried not to think about all the time he’d wasted by not saying anything sooner.

You loved him the way he loved you and he could have had this with you the whole time had he just fucking done something. So many years of thinking about you, of hoping you were happy, of watching for updates about your books and your career. So much time he could have just been with you, been happy.

But he knew, too, just how different things would be then. If you’d never left after prom, he wouldn’t have Sarah, something he didn’t even want to try and picture. If you’d just been with him, you wouldn’t have written the book that had made you such a success. Hell, if you’d been here, Anna may have never gone through all she had and may have never had Ellie. So much of what you both loved about your lives, the things that gave you so much meaning, only existed because of the way you’d shaped each others lives. Like all that time without you had a purpose and now that everything had fallen into place the way it had been meant to, he could have a shot at an existence he’d never known was possible.

You were laughing at something Joel said - he’d already forgotten what, too busy lost in the sound and feel of your happiness to pay attention to that - when the doorbell rang and your laugh shifted to a groan.

“That was too fast,” you said. “Maybe I’m not hungry.”

Joel laughed.

“I got it,” he said, adjusting you enough that he could get up and kissing your forehead. “You just relax, baby. We got all the time in the world.”

You smiled at that, and Joel reluctantly left your bed, quickly pulling on his shirt and jeans, buttoning them and zipping them as he went to your front door.

“I’m comin’,” he called, hoping he didn’t have traces of your sex on him when he talked to this random Uber Eats guy.

But when he opened the door, it wasn’t a random guy.

It was your fucking husband.

The other man laughed once, darkly, his nose in a splint and bruises below his eyes.

“Should have expected to find you here,” he said, shoving past Joel to step into your house uninvited. “You have my wife stashed away here somewhere?”

“Do you want a beer?” You called, coming down the hall, looking down at yourself as you knotted your robe around your waist. “I’ve got wine, too, or…”

You looked up and stopped in your tracks, your hands frozen on the satin fabric and your eyes wide. Gale looked you up and down and his jaw quirked.

“Looks like you’ve been busy,” he said. “Didn’t waste much time, did you?”

Joel’s heart beat faster, his stomach turning as he looked to you. All that certainty he’d had as he held you was gone. In your bed, the reality of your husband was far away. But he was here now, the man you’d spent years with instead of Joel, the man who had kissed you in your office just a few hours ago, the man who had clearly flown across the country to get you back. He was here, offering you something you’d wanted at least once before. What if you still did?

“It’s not really your business anymore, is it?” You stood up straighter, chin out defiantly.

“You are always my business,” he said. “I don’t know if he pressured you or threatened you…”

Joel’s spine stiffened.

“He would never do that,” you snapped, crossing the room quickly and putting yourself between your husband and Joel. “And, not that it matters, he wouldn’t need to.”

He sighed, shaking his head.

“Now I know I haven’t exactly been the best husband to you of late,” he said and you scoffed but he pressed on anyway. “I know I probably pushed you to this, that you never would have come back here if I hadn’t… if I hadn’t done what I did, you wouldn’t have come here and gotten tangled up with…” he looked at Joel like he was trash. “With him. But we both know he’s not going to be able to keep up with you like I do, be able to give you what I can or love you the way I do and -“

“Good,” you said sharply, cutting him off. “I never want to be loved the way you love me ever again. I meant what I said in the hospital, Gale. We’re done.”

“No,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re my fucking wife, we are not just done.”

“Yes,” you said, standing your ground. “We are. You are going to give me whatever I want in the divorce - don’t worry, you can keep the house, the 401k. Hell, you can keep the whole of New England for all I care - and you’re not going to press charges against Joel and you are going to leave academia.”

“And why would I do that?” He raised his voice. Joel stepped closer but you held your hand out behind you, stopping him.

“Because,” you said. “If you don’t, I’ll drag your name through the mud. I’ll tell the entire fucking world how Gale Newton preys on teenaged girls, girls he has power over, and how he does it again and again and again. I’ll even tell them how you offered me a spot in your summer writing intensive when I was 17 - still a minor - and how you told me you’d known from the first time you saw my portfolio how special I was and how bad you wanted to fuck me. I don’t think even tenure will protect you from that and you sure as hell would never publish another book after that. You’d be over.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” he shook his head. “Not to me.”

“I would,” you said. “Because I don’t care. I was never a person to you, I was a tool and I’m not interested in being that anymore. I’m not interested in you anymore. I’m not sure I was ever interested in you, really. I think I was just… trying to get over someone I was never built to get over. So please, get the fuck out of my house and don’t come back.”

Fucking Brad stood there, dumbfounded, watching you for a moment before he moved for you and Joel stepped in, putting himself between you and your almost-ex-husband.

“No!” The other man shoved him and Joel smiled. He couldn’t help himself, the comfortable surety settling in him again. You’d picked him. When your husband was right in front of you, everything Joel couldn’t ever be, you’d still picked Joel. And now the guy was giving him a reason to punch him, for the second time that day. He wasn’t about to argue about that. “I’m not letting you get between me and my wife!”

“Think you did a damn good job of that all on your own,” Joel said. “Now I’m gonna ask you to do as my girl says and get the fuck out before I make you get the fuck out.”

“Make me?” Gale got in Joel’s face as best he could. “Make me!”

“Alright,” Joel shrugged, balling his hand into a fist before pulling back and slugging Gale with all his strength, his knuckles slamming into his chin and sending him sprawling to the floor. “I will.”

As much as he would have liked to have continued to beat the ever loving shit out of your husband, Joel instead grabbed him by the arm, dragging him to your door before tossing him on your front porch, the Uber Eats guy standing there with a baffled look on his face.

“That’s ours,” Joel said, reaching over Gale as he groaned from his place on the ground, taking the bag. The delivery man just kind of blinked, looking down at the man Joel had just deposited on your porch. “Oh, don’t worry about him. He was just leavin’, he’ll be fine.”

“Right,” the guy said. “Uh… have a good day?”

“Thanks, you too,” Joel said, giving him a wave, going inside to find you waiting in your entry way, a small smile on your face. He locked the deadbolt and held up the bag. “Got dinner.”

Your smile grew.

“Dinner for your girl, huh?” You teased a little.

He smiled back.

“My girl,” he said, setting the bag down on the table in your entry and stepping close to you, taking your face in both of his hands and kissing you. “My best friend.” He kissed you again. “My whole damn world.”

You put your arms around his neck, your body arching into his, your eyes tracing his face.

“I think I like the sound of that,” you whispered.

Joel smiled wider and kissed you again and, for the first time in his life, he felt like he was right where he was supposed to be.

A/N: WELL WE GOT HERE!

Just one chapter left to take a peek at what life will be like for these two now that they've worked their shit out.

I sincerely hope you've enjoyed the ride. I cannot thank you enough for reading about these two, I love them so much and it means the world that there are other people out there who love them, too.

Thank you for spending your time and energy here with them and with me and thank you for not making me yell about them into the void.

Taglist: @kaseyconnour

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #halcyon #joel miller x oc #joel miller smut #fuckstival 2k25

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thefreakandthehair · 5 months ago

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you're my fantasy.

written for ‘shower’ wc: 399 | rated: m | tags: established relationship, slice of life, modern au, steve harrington plays fantasy football and eddie munson loves him so goddamn much, suggestive ending @steddiemicrofic

Eddie moved in with Steve six months ago, but he’s still not used to the hot water never running out.

It doesn’t trickle, it doesn’t fade, it doesn’t force him to hurriedly scrub the shampoo from his scalp after just a couple of minutes. Cold showers are good for two reasons: unbearable Indiana summers and having to look at a thought-to-be-untouchable Steve in a swimsuit. But now, he lives in Steve’s house with it’s central air conditioning and he gets to touch Steve every fucking day so suffice to say, he never wants to experience the sharp cut of a cold shower again.

He stands in the enclosure, face towards the spray and he rolls his shoulders, stretching his neck. The heat from the water fills the bathroom, a fog that settles across the mirror above the sink.

It’s quiet.

It’s peaceful.

It doesn’t last.

Eddie startles as he hears footsteps rushing up the stairs, feet tripping over themselves, only for Steve to barrel through the bathroom door. He grimaces and braces himself against the sink countertop, leaning down to rub one hand over his calf.

“Um… hi?” Eddie pulls the curtain back enough to see Steve clearly without letting all of the precious warmth go to waste. “Not tired of seeing my dick yet? You could've just asked.”

Steve stands up straight and rolls his eyes. “I’m definitely not tired of seeing your dick and never will be, but that’s not why I busted my ass running up here. It’s 6:55pm. The game kicks off at 8:15pm. I’m down by 23 points in our fantasy league, I’m playing Wayne, and they just announced that they’re sitting Christian McCaffrey because of a calf strain! Just now, Ed!”

“You…” Eddie bites the inside of his cheek. “You ran up the stairs like some sort of possessed spider just to tell me that my uncle is going to beat you this week?”

“It’s the last game of the week!” Steve repeats, bending down again to massage his leg flared nostrils and pinched eyebrows. “I have no one left to substitute in!”

“And it looks like you’re gonna be benched this week for your own calf injury.” Eddie shakes his head and smirks, impossibly fond and so goddamn in love. “C’mon, get in here with me. Can’t fix your football team, but I think I can make you feel a lot better.”

husband and I are both in multiple fantasy leagues and in one of the leagues we aren't in together, he was banking on Christian McCaffery to win the week for him. McCaffery was the offensive player of the year last year, the universal number one draft pick for fantasy football leagues this year, and arguably one of the best running backs in the NFL. him getting sat an hour before the game on Monday was a Big Deal™️ and this is my long way of explaining that this is yet another entry into the fic genre of "Lex's Husband Doing Steve Harrington Things." anyways, he scared the fucking shit out of me when he ran into the bathroom to tell me. 💀

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #myblurbs #steddiemicrofic

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eevees-hobbies · 8 months ago

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What Your Friends Don't Know About Your Boyfriend Yuta Okkotsu - NSFW

Authors Note: I’m working on an anon request and some KNY headcanons, but inspiration struck. And, look, something JJK related! See, I DO watch other anime.

Synopsis: Fem! ReaderXYuta Okkotsu. Modern AU w/no curses. The Yuta Okkotsu that your friends meet is NOT the Yuta Okkotsu that you know in the bedroom.

Content Warnings: fondling in public and around others without their knowledge, some demeaning dirty talk, minor jealousy, you may or may not have fucked your college football team depending on who you ask, perverted & possessive Yuta, smut. Minors Do Not Interact.

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When you first introduce your boyfriend, Yuta Okkotsu, to your friend group, they greet him excitedly. He’s respectful—albeit shy, especially since clubs aren’t exactly introvert-friendly. He’ll offer to buy them all drinks while listening to them reminisce about their college adventures with you. Being a good boyfriend, Yuta listens with vested interest and parrots the occasional, “Hm, is that so?” and “No way, Y/N did that?”

When Yuta excuses himself to go to the restroom, they corner you and launch into their observations of him, “He’s so cute!” and “How’d you get such a shy boyfriend?” oh, and the funniest one, “I bet you have to speak up for him ALL the time when they get his order wrong!”

What your friends don’t know about your boyfriend is that throughout the night, he has been inconspicuously—under the cover of the packed crowd in the venue—sliding his hand up the short dress that he requested you to wear. His long fingers knead and fondle the plush of your cheeks as he smiles at something your friends say—them oblivious even as his fingers slide in between your thighs, playing with the thin fabric that separates your heated mound from his fingers.

What your friends don’t know about your boyfriend is that as soon as you pass the threshold of your shared condo, the door closing with a final click that is symbolic of the sound of a snapping chord that unleashes the brewing sexual tension between you two, he’s pushing you against the nearest wall, his leg between your thighs and knee pressing against your hot, wet sex. “I didn’t know my girlfriend was such a slut in college. Seriously? The entire football team?” he sneers as he bites at the sensitive skin on your neck. “Y-Yuta, that is NOT-, “ but he pulls away suddenly, his jaw set and his eyes clouded with jealousy and lust, the dark circles under his eyes only exasperating the chill you feel climbing your spine as he delivers a quick and hard smack to your ass. “Get your ass to the fucking room. Now.”

What your friends don’t know about your boyfriend is that when it’s just the two of you, relegated to the quiet and dark bedroom, he folds you in half like he owns you, putting you in a series of positions—mating press, doggy, you straddling his lap in reverse cowgirl, anything that makes him feel as deep inside of you as possible.

What your friends don’t know about your boyfriend is that when he presses his body so firmly against you, you sometimes can’t tell where your body starts and his ends. His fingers grope at your tender flesh as he slides his tongue into your mouth, his hard dick pressed firmly against your still-clothed cunt, creating an unimaginable, pleasurable sensation from the sheer friction alone, until he decides that your panties no longer serve a purpose and rips them off with his bare hands.

What your friends don’t know about your boyfriend is that it doesn’t matter how much you beg or plead with him; he’ll tease your drooling hole by pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance just baaaaarely enough to give you a taste but not nearly enough to satiate any of your want for him. “Beg for it, baby. I don’t know if you've earned this quite yet.” And when he’s satisfied with the way your voice cracks when you proclaim your absolute desire for him, and you shake your ass under him, hoping to “accidentally” move in a way that would allow you to swallow him into you. But Yuta knows your games, so he’ll press a large hand against your lower back, pushing you deeper into the mattress; he won’t relent until he’s taking you on his terms. Finally, without warning, he’ll plunge his girth into you, eventually giving you what you need. Your cock hungry mind is SO pleased, but it’s so sudden and brutal and so fucking much that your body writhes underneath him. Still, Yuta is unforgiving and unmoved by your whimpers. Quite frankly, the way you struggle against him only makes his dick twitch inside you more.

What your friends don’t know about your boyfriend is that he’s an entirely different person in the bedroom. His shy persona now overshadowed with the filthiest of words and low, drawling moans, “I bet your friends know I was fingering you tonight. I bet they could smell you on my fingers as I passed them their drinks.” He drives himself even deeper into you, fucking you like he’s chasing a high that only your sweet, tight pussy can give him. His incessant pounding only gets more ruthless as your moans grow louder and your attempt at speech nonsensical. “Nngh, Y-Yuta, fuck….feels….dick…” You try bouncing your ass back to meet his thrusts, but they’re sloppy because, fuck, you can’t think straight with him fucking you like this, and he gives your ass another firm smack, “look at you all slutted out. What would your friends think twerking on my cock like this?”

What your friends don’t know about your boyfriend is that he’s pleased, no, delighted, when you cum so hard on his dick that he can see your white cream coating his own flesh. It goes directly to his ego, and the sight alone is enough to push him over the edge because maybe you did fuck the football team while you were exploring your sexuality in college—but he’s the one who has you making a mess on his dick right now, and that thought alone is enough to bring him from skirting the edge of his own orgasm to being careened over it until he’s moaning your name and grabbing your love handles so hard that there will undoubtedly be bruises the next day.

What your friends don’t know about your boyfriend is that he never pulls out. Your pussy unable to hold the volume that he shoots into you as he climbs off you, and his cum drips out in thick, white masses.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #yuuta smut #okkotsu yuta #yuuta x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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growthhyp · 1 month ago

Text

The Garage Sale IV

"Fuck, where is that little shit?" Abe muttered under his breath, his ginger hair glinting in the fading sunlight as he stomped outside the college campus. His beefy arms flexed with each step, the veins in his neck bulging with frustration. He'd been looking for Aiden all day, his usual smug smile nowhere to be seen.

Aiden, the nerdy black college student, had somehow managed to outwit Abe, the burly jock, and it was driving him insane. His eyes scanned the crowded area, looking for the skinny kid who always seemed to be lost in his own world of books and tech. Aiden had always been an easy target for Abe's cruel pranks and homophobic slurs, but today, he had evaded the jock's grasp.

But as Abe was about to give up and admit defeat, his eyes caught a glimpse of a garage sale, set up in the driveway of a quaint suburban home. The sight was peculiar, a stark contrast to the modern college buildings surrounding them. Amongst the clutter, a hulking man stood, his muscles bulging beneath a tight bright blue tank top that was doing its best to contain them.

Curiosity piqued, Abe approached the garage sale, his eyes scanning the assortment of items laid out on tables. "Hey," Abe called out to the muscular man, his deep voice echoing in the quiet space, "you haven't seen a nerdy guy come through here, have you? Skin and bones, probably tripping over his own feet."

Jack looked up from the chair he was sitting and cocked his head to the side, eyeing Abe with a quizzical expression. "Nah, man, no one like that's been here. But I did have a customer come by earlier, though." He wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand, his biceps flexing as he spoke. "Dude was built like a brick shithouse, like me. You might've missed him if you weren't looking for someone… well, smaller."

Abe's eyes narrowed at the description, his mind racing with thoughts of Aiden teaming up with someone like Jack to outsmart him. "What'd he look like?" he asked, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

Jack looked up from his task, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, you know the type. Big, brawny, probably benches more than you weigh." He chuckled, his deep laugh reverberating through the garage. "I don't think he was your typical bookworm, if that's what you're worried about."

Abe felt a flicker of annoyance at Jack's teasing, but he couldn't help but be a little intrigued. He stepped closer, his eyes lingering over the muscular man's form. "What was he here for?"

Jack shrugged, his massive shoulders rising and falling with the movement. "Just picked up some old gym gear, said he was looking to bulk up."

Abe nodded, his eyes still scanning the garage. The absence of other customers was odd, but he shrugged it off. Maybe everyone was just avoiding the scene of the jock's frustration. "Thanks anyway, man," he said, turning to leave.

But as he took a step away, Jack called out, "Hey, what's your name?"

Abe spun around, a smug smirk playing on his lips. "Abe. And before you ask, yeah, I'm a college student."

Jack's eyes lit up with recognition. "Oh, so you're one of those jocks, huh? Play football, get all the girls?" He winked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Abe nodded proudly. "Yeah, exactly. I'm on the college varsity team, and I've got more notches on my bedpost than I can count." He flexed his bicep, the muscles rippling like waves of power beneath his skin. "So, what's your deal?"

Jack's smirk grew wider. "Well, Abe," he said, leaning on the weight bench, "I'm an alumni of this very college. But let's just say, I didn't spend much time playing football." His gaze drifted off for a moment before he snapped back to the present. "But enough about me. What's got you so riled up about the nerdy guy?"

Abe felt his cheeks redden slightly at the question. He'd never admitted to anyone that he had a grudge against Aiden. "It's nothing," he mumbled, looking away. "Just a little… rivalry."

Jack raised an eyebrow, his gaze piercing through Abe's facade. "Rivalry, huh?" He stepped closer, the scent of sweat and metal wafting from his body. "Look, Abe, I know your type. You're the kind of guy who thinks the world owes you something just because you can bench press more than anyone else. But let me tell you a little secret." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Being a jock doesn't make you untouchable. And sometimes, the quiet ones have more bite than you think."

Abe's jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. He'd never been talked to like this before, not by someone who wasn't trembling in fear. But Jack's confidence was oddly compelling, and he found himself listening intently. "What's your point?" Abe spat out, trying to sound tough.

Jack's smile didn't waver. "My point is, maybe you should cut the guy some slack. Everyone's got their own battles to fight." He straightened up, his towering frame seemingly growing larger in the confined space of the garage.

But before Abe could respond, Jack's eyes fell on a dusty old jockstrap hanging from a makeshift clothesline strung across the garage. "Speaking of which," Jack said, plucking it down and holding it out to Abe with a flourish, "you might like this."

Abe stared at the piece of clothing in confusion, his brain struggling to piece together why Jack would be offering him underwear. "What the hell is this?" he snarled, his voice laced with skepticism.

Jack's grin grew even wider, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. "It's a jockstrap, buddy. Perfect for guys like you." He stepped closer, invading Abe's personal space. "It'll give you the support you need, keep everything in check while you're out there playing your games." His voice was smooth, like honey, and Abe couldn't help but feel a strange pull towards the garment.

"But I already have one," Abe protested weakly, his eyes flicking between the jockstrap and Jack's intense gaze.

"Ah, but this one's special," Jack said, his tone like a siren's song. "It's not just any old jockstrap. This one's been worn by champions, men who've pushed their bodies to the limit. It's like having a piece of history, a symbol of strength and endurance." He held it out closer, and Abe could almost feel the power it contained.

Abe stared at the jockstrap, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Why was he even considering this? But Jack's words were like a drug, and he found himself reaching out to take it. "What makes it so special?" he asked, his voice gruff.

Jack leaned in closer, his breath hot against Abe's ear. "Let me show you," he said, his voice a seductive whisper. Before Abe could protest, Jack had turned him around and guided him to a makeshift changing room in the corner of the garage. "Just slip into it, feel the difference," he encouraged.

As Abe reached for the curtain, his heart pounding in his chest, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was making a mistake. But Jack's confidence was infectious, and he found himself drawn to the mysterious allure of the jockstrap. He pulled the curtain aside, expecting an empty space, but what he saw made his jaw drop to the floor.

There, sprawled out on a bench, was a hulking black bodybuilder, his muscles rippling even in his state of unconsciousness. The man's dark skin was like midnight velvet, stretched tight over muscles that looked like they'd been chiseled from marble. His eyes snapped open, and for a split second, Abe thought he saw a flicker of recognition in them. But then the man's gaze went vacant again, and Abe realized it was just his imagination playing tricks on him.

He quickly pulled the curtain shut, his heart hammering in his chest. "Jack, what the fuck?" he hissed, spinning around to face the grinning man.

Jack chuckled, a knowing look in his eye. "Oh, I'm sorry about that, Abe. Didn't mean to startle you." He held up his hands in a placating gesture. "That's just my buddy. He passed out after a heavy workout. You know, sometimes these things happen when you push too hard."

Abe's heart was racing, his thoughts a jumbled mess. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. "It's… it's fine," he stuttered, his cheeks still flushed. "I just didn't expect to see… that."

Jack nodded, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Understood. But let me make it up to you. Why don't you come over to my place, and we'll get you into that jockstrap properly?" He winked, and Abe felt a strange mix of excitement and unease. The muscular man led him out of the garage and into the house, the door creaking open to reveal a small but well-kept living room. The scent of musk and sweat filled the air, a clear sign of a man's domain.

The bathroom was dimly lit, with a single bulb swinging gently overhead. The tiles on the floor were a bit sticky under Abe's sneakers, and he couldn't help but wonder how much sweat had been spilled here in the pursuit of Jack's Herculean physique.

Aiden had always been the object of his derision, but now, faced with this stark reminder of his own physical inferiority, Abe felt a peculiar mix of envy and admiration. He'd never seen anyone so… massive. And there was something about the quiet confidence Jack exuded that was undeniably appealing.

Shaking off the lingering image of the unconscious bodybuilder, Abe stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him with a click. The room was smaller than he had anticipated, with barely enough space for the toilet, a sink, and a shower stall that looked like it had seen better days.

The jockstrap still in his hand, Abe couldn't help but feel a strange thrill at the idea of wearing something so intimately connected to the kind of strength and power that he had always craved. He looked at himself in the mirror, his eyes tracing the lines of his own muscular frame, the reflection of his chiseled abs and bulging biceps staring back at him. But it wasn't enough. Not compared to what he'd just seen.

With trembling hands, he peeled off his own underwear and stepped into the dusty jockstrap. It was snug, but as he pulled it up, it felt like it was molding to his body, fitting him like a glove. He could feel the fabric hugging his crotch and the waistband digging into his skin, but instead of feeling uncomfortable, it was… empowering.

As Abe tightened the straps and adjusted the pouch, a sudden warmth began to spread from his groin up to his chest. It was like a hot liquid was being pumped through his veins, filling him with energy and a strange, newfound strength. His muscles began to tense and expand before his very eyes, his reflection in the mirror becoming more and more like the men he had seen in Jack's garage.

His white tank top, once snug across his broad chest, started to strain and stretch, the fabric groaning under the pressure of his swelling physique. The seams grew tight against his skin as his pectorals bulged outward, his biceps and triceps ballooning with power. He flexed his arms, watching in amazement as the veins grew more pronounced, his muscles swelling with every beat of his heart.

Aiden stumbled back in shock as his legs grew longer and thicker before his eyes. His calves, once slender and barely noticeable, exploded in size, each muscle fiber becoming more and more defined until they looked like they could crush a walnut with ease. His feet felt heavy, the bones in his toes cracking and shifting as they morphed into a shape that could support his newfound bulk. He looked down at them, his eyes wide with terror and awe, his sneakers now seeming like children's toys around his monstrous feet. The mirror in the cramped bathroom was now almost eye level for Abe, his reflection towering above him.

He reached down, his hand shaking with anticipation, and touched the thick, engorged member that jutted out from the jockstrap. It was hot and pulsing, as if it had a heartbeat of its own. His fingers wrapped around the base, and a jolt of pure ecstasy shot through him, making his knees buckle. He hadn't felt anything like this before, not even when he'd scored the winning touchdown in the last game of the season. It was a pleasure so intense it was almost painful, and he couldn't help but let out a low moan that echoed off the tiles.

As Abe's hand moved in a slow, deliberate rhythm, his thoughts grew hazier. The faces of the cheerleaders who had once thrown themselves at him grew distant, replaced by images of muscular men, their powerful bodies entwined in passion. He felt his cock thicken and lengthen in his grasp, the sensation unlike anything he'd ever experienced. It was as if the jockstrap was feeding his desires, transforming him into someone new.

The once cocky jock felt his swagger dissipate as a strange sense of vulnerability washed over him. His thoughts were no longer filled with conquests and one-night stands, but with the tender touch of a strong, protective man. The idea of being dominated, of being filled, sent shivers down his spine. He didn't know why, but he craved it with an intensity that scared him.

As Abe's hand continued to work on his newfound monster, his ass began to swell and round out before his eyes. He felt it expand. It was as if the jockstrap had unlocked a hidden chamber of desires within him, sculpting him into the receptive partner he never knew he wanted to be.

With a final, guttural groan, Abe came harder than he ever had before. The force of his orgasm sent ropes of cum shooting into the air, painting the tiles with his essence. His legs gave out from under him, and he crumpled to the floor, his back thumping against the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl. He remained there, his breath coming in ragged gasps, as the last drops of cum dribbled from his cock, mixing with the sweat that now coated his body.

As the aftershocks of pleasure faded, a wave of exhaustion crashed over Abe like a tidal wave. His eyes grew heavy, and without realizing it, he leaned back, his head lolling against the coolness of the bowl's edge. He didn't fight it; instead, he allowed his eyes to drift shut, the sounds of his own heavy breathing filling the small bathroom. His muscles, which had been so taut with arousal, began to relax, his body going limp.

Before he knew it, Abe was asleep, sitting awkwardly in the toilet bowl. It was a position that would've been uncomfortable for anyone else, but in his exhausted state, it was almost like a cradle. His legs sprawled out before him, his two hands are resting on the floor to keeping from toppling over. His face was a picture of serenity, the kind of peace that comes from the most intense of releases.

===

But as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the garage in an orange glow, Aiden's eyes fluttered open. He blinked a few times, the sleep still clinging to his eyelids like cobwebs. His body felt… different. He took a deep breath, feeling his lungs expand in a way they never had before, and as he sat up, his newfound muscles rippled and flexed beneath his skin. He looked down at his body, his eyes widening in shock.

He was no longer the skinny, unassuming college kid he'd been just a few hours ago. Aiden had been transformed into a creature of power and beauty, a colossus that could make any man's jaw drop. His chest was now a wall of muscle, the definition sharp enough to cut glass. His abs looked like they'd been sculpted by a master artist, each ridge and valley a testament to his newfound strength.

As he took in his reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror, a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. He felt different, as if he'd been born anew. The shy, nerdy exterior was gone, replaced by a cocky, arrogant swagger that seemed to ooze from his very pores. He liked the feeling of power that surged through him, the way his body had changed so dramatically.

The light outside was dimming as he stepped out of the bathroom, the setting sun casting long shadows across the garage. He walked to the door that led to the house, his heavy footsteps echoing through the empty space. He didn't bother knocking, instead throwing it open with the newfound confidence of a man who had nothing to fear.

In the living room, Jack looked up from his workout magazine, his eyes widening at the sight of Aiden's new form. The smirk on his face grew into a full-blown grin as he took in the young man's towering presence.

"Jack," Aiden slurred, his brain still foggy with the aftermath of his transformation. "Where am I?"

Jack chuckled, his eyes raking over Aiden's new form with unabashed admiration. "You're at my place, man. You had quite the experience in the changing room, huh?"

Aiden nodded, still trying to piece together what had happened. "Yeah," he said slowly, his voice deeper and more gravelly than he'd ever heard it. "I remember buying some clothes from you. But I can't seem to find them."

Jack's eyes lingered on the bulge in Aiden's black briefs, which was now tenting obscenely with each step the young man took. He could see the outline of Aiden's cock, thick and long, straining against the fabric. It was clear that the transformation had not only altered Aiden's physique but also his libido.

"Don't worry about it," Jack said casually, his voice a smooth purr. "You bought that black hoodie and those jogger pants, but I think they're a bit too big for you now." He winked, enjoying the confusion and arousal that played across Aiden's features. "I left them in the guest room for you. Why don't you go check them out?"

Aiden nodded, his gaze lingering on Jack's bulging biceps before he turned to leave. His hips rolled with each step, the fabric of his briefs stretching taut against his engorged cock. The musky scent of male arousal filled the air, thick and potent.

Jack's offer to spend the night was like a siren's call to Aiden's newfound desires. He stumbled down the hallway, his mind racing with thoughts of his transformation and the insatiable hunger that now consumed him. When he reached the guest room, he pushed the door open with a low groan, the wood creaking in protest. The room was sparse, with a single bed in the center and a small dresser in the corner.

He didn't bother looking for the clothes Jack had mentioned; instead, his hand found its way to his throbbing cock, still trapped within the confines of the black brief. The fabric was sticky with his cum, but the feeling of his swollen length in his hand was too much to resist. He began to stroke himself, his eyes glazed over with lust as he took in the new landscape of his body.

Each pump of his hand sent a new wave of pleasure through him, and he couldn't help but moan softly, his body now a playground of unexplored sensations. He'd never felt so alive, so… hungry. The thought of going back to his old life, his old body, was like a distant memory, a faded photograph that no longer held any appeal.

===

Abe's eyes snapped open as he sat in the toilet bowl, his mind racing to piece together the events that had led him to this moment.

He glanced down at his transformed body, the muscles rippling and bulging in a way they never had before. His hands moved to feel his chest, his fingers tracing the deep valleys and rock-solid peaks of his pecs, his thumbs grazing his erect nipples. His cock, now a thick, pulsing beast, strained against the fabric of the jockstrap, begging for attention. He felt his cheeks redden at the realization that he was sitting in the toilet, his massive legs taking up most of the space in the cramped bathroom.

But it was when his hand moved to his face that he felt the most shocking change. Abe's fingers brushed against a coarse, unfamiliar texture. A beard had grown, thick and dark, framing his chiseled jawline and giving him the look of a Viking warrior. The feel of it was strange, but also surprisingly comforting.

With a shaky breath, Abe stood up, the jockstrap feeling like a second skin around his waist. His body felt heavy, but in a good way, as if he'd been filled with something primal and powerful. He took a step forward, his legs moving almost of their own accord, and stumbled out into the hallway.

"Jack," he called out, his voice softer than he'd ever heard it. "Can… can I talk to you?"

Jack looked up from his magazine, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "What's up, Abe?"

Abe took a tentative step into the room, his newfound bulk making him feel vulnerable. "Sir, I… I just wanted to talk to you about something." He couldn't quite find the words to express his confusion and fear.

Jack barely glanced up from his magazine, his eyes dancing with amusement. "What's on your mind, Abe?" he drawled, not bothering to hide the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips.

Abe took a deep breath, his chest heaving with the effort of holding in his emotions. "Jack… Sir," he began, the word slipping out despite his best efforts to sound assertive. "What… what happened to me?"

Jack's smirk grew, his eyes dark with an emotion that was both thrilling and terrifying to Abe. "You don't remember?" He teased, his voice thick with something that sent shivers down Abe's spine.

Abe's heart hammered in his chest, his mouth dry. "No, Sir," he murmured, the word slipping out again. He felt his knees want to buckle but he held his ground, his new muscles straining under the weight of his own body.

Jack leaned back in his chair, his muscular arms folded over his broad chest. "It's okay, Abe. You're just a little overwhelmed by your new… attributes." The smirk on his face grew wider, his eyes glinting with something that made Abe's stomach flutter.

Abe felt his cheeks burn, his heart racing. "But… I don't understand," he said meekly, his voice cracking. "What happened in there?"

Jack looked up from his magazine, his eyes piercing through Abe's soul. "You don't need to know, Abe," he said, his voice firm yet soothing. "All that matters is that you've been given a gift." He took a sip of his water, his biceps flexing with the movement. "Why don't you just accept it?"

Abe swallowed hard, his knees feeling weak. He wanted to demand answers, to shout and rage against the unfairness of it all, but something in Jack's tone kept him in check. He nodded, his head bobbing slightly, his eyes downcast. "Yes, Sir," he murmured, the word slipping out again like a reflex.

Jack's smile grew even wider, his eyes gleaming with dominance. He pointed a finger towards the guest room. "Why don't you go on in, Abe," he said, his voice low and authoritative. "You're more than welcome to spend the night. It's late, and I'm sure you've got a lot to… process."

Abe nodded, his heart racing. He didn't know why, but he felt a strange mix of fear and excitement at the idea of being so close to the muscular men he'd just seen. He padded down the hallway on silent, bare feet, his cock still straining against the jockstrap. When he reached the guest room, the sound of heavy breathing and the slick, wet sounds of flesh against flesh filled the air.

He pushed the door open slowly, his eyes widening as he took in the sight before him. On the bed lay the form of the hulking muscular man, his hand moving rhythmically up and down his monstrous shaft. The man's muscles rippled with each stroke, the moonlight streaming through the window casting shadows across his gleaming skin.

"Sir," Abe whispered, his voice hoarse with a mix of awe and arousal. "What's your name?"

The man on the bed looked up, his eyes hooded with lust. For a moment, there was something eerily familiar about those eyes, something that sent a shiver down Abe's spine, but he couldn't quite place it.

"I'm Aiden," the man on the bed rumbled, his voice deeper and more confident than Abe had ever heard. "And as for you," he said, his eyes raking over Abe's transformed body, "you're just a pitiful excuse for a man, aren't you?"

Abe felt his jaw drop, he'd never heard anyone speak to him like that, especially not someone who had been so weak before. But as he took in Aiden's powerful frame, his own muscles flexing and bulging, he knew that the tables had turned.

The anger he'd felt earlier was replaced with a deep sense of fear. The person he'd bullied for years was now his equal, maybe even his superior. Aiden's hand was still wrapped around his own cock, stroking it with a confidence that was unmistakable. Aiden looked up at Abe, his eyes gleaming with something that could only be described as hunger.

Abe felt his breath catch in his throat. He should've been furious, but instead, all he could manage was a stuttered apology. "I'm… I'm sorry, Aiden," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I never meant to… to treat you like that."

Aiden's eyes narrowed, his hand never stopping its relentless pumping. "Sorry isn't enough, Abe," he said, his tone dripping with authority. "If you want forgiveness, you'll have to earn it."

The room was thick with tension, the scent of male lust hanging heavily in the air. Abe felt his body respond, his cock swelling even further in the jockstrap. He licked his lips, his mind racing with confusion and arousal.

"You want me to… to do what?" he stuttered, his cheeks flushing a deep red.

Aiden's eyes never left Abe's as he spoke, his voice firm and commanding. "You heard me, jock. If you want my forgiveness, you're going to let me claim your ass."

Abe's breath hitched, his cock pulsing in response to the raw dominance in Aiden's voice. He couldn't believe the words he was hearing, but his body was responding in a way that was undeniable. He felt his cheeks burn with a mix of shame and arousal as the reality of the situation sunk in.

With a tremble in his voice, Abe whispered, "Yes, Sir." He took a step closer to the bed, his knees wobbling with anticipation. Aiden's hand never stopped moving on his thick cock, the sound of his palm slapping against his abs echoing in the stillness of the room.

Aiden patted the bed beside him, his eyes still locked on Abe's. "Come here, boy," he said, his voice a seductive purr that made Abe's knees buckle even more.

With a whimper, Abe took the final steps to the bed, his body feeling like it was on autopilot. The jockstrap was soaking wet from his own precum, and his cock was painfully hard, begging for release. He'd never felt so powerless, so… submissive before, but something about it was intoxicating.

Aiden leaned back, his abs flexing as he positioned himself in the center of the bed. With a smirk, he wrapped his hand around the base of his massive cock, which was now pointing straight at Abe's trembling hole. "Ready to be my bitch?" he taunted, his voice a gruff growl that sent shockwaves through Abe's core.

When Aiden's cock finally made contact with his hole, Abe couldn't help the loud gasp that escaped his lips. It was hot, like molten lava, and it sent a bolt of pleasure shooting through his body that made his toes curl. He felt his knees buckle slightly, but Aiden was there, his strong hands on Abe's shoulders, holding him in place as he pushed the tip inside.

Aiden's eyes never left Abe's, the hunger in them growing more intense as he felt the tightness of Abe's body give way to his massive girth. He pushed in slowly, inch by agonizing inch, watching as the jock's face contorted in a mix of pain and pleasure. Aiden's own moan mingled with Abe's as he sank deeper, the feeling of being sheathed in tight warmth unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

Aiden's hand gripped the base of his cock, his thumb brushing against Abe's prostate with every thrust. The jock's moans grew louder, filling the room with a symphony of need and want. Aiden's hips began to move faster, the sound of skin slapping skin growing more intense with every movement. Aiden felt a sense of power wash over him, a power that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Abe's eyes rolled back in his head as he took in the sensation, his body arching off the bed to meet Aiden's thrusts. He'd never felt so… full before, so completely consumed by another man's desire. His own hand had stilled on his cock, his focus solely on the feeling of Aiden's massive length claiming him, stretching him wider with every push.

Jack sat in his living room, the sound of the TV playing in the background as he heard the muffled moans coming from the guest room. He couldn't help but smile to himself, knowing that Aiden was giving Abe the ride of his life. He'd seen the transformation before; it was always a thrill to watch a new customer discover the power of the clothes he sold. And Aiden had proven to be a natural at it, wielding his newfound dominance with a finesse that Jack hadn't seen in a while.

The noises grew louder, more urgent, as Aiden felt his orgasm approaching. His muscles tensed, and he began to hammer into Abe's willing body with increased ferocity. Aiden's hips were a blur as he chased his release, his teeth gritted and eyes squeezed shut in concentration. Aiden's massive cock was a piston, driving into Abe's tight hole with the power of a freight train.

Abe's moans grew more desperate, his breaths coming in short gasps as he tried to accommodate Aiden's relentless pace. His own cock was a leaking faucet of precum, painting his abs with a sticky sheen. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he bit his lower lip to stifle his screams. The pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain, but Abe didn't want it to stop. He craved the feeling of Aiden's dominance, the way he filled him up and made him feel alive in ways he never had before.

Suddenly, Aiden stiffened, his eyes snapping open to stare into Abe's. "Take it," he growled, his voice deep and primal. "Take it all, you worthless jock." Aiden's cock swelled even more, and with a roar, he came deep inside Abe, his hot cum flooding the jock's insides.

Abe felt the warmth spread through him, filling him up until he could take no more. His own orgasm ripped through him like lightning, his cock spurting thick ropes of cum that shot across his abs, painting them in sticky white streaks. The force of it was so intense that he saw stars, his body trembling uncontrollably as he climaxed harder than he ever had before.

When the tremors subsided, Aiden pulled out with a wet pop, his cock glistening in the moonlight. He looked down at Abe, his expression unreadable. "You're forgiven," he said, his voice still thick with lust. "But there's one condition."

Abe's eyes widened, his chest heaving with each breath. "What is it, Sir?"

Aiden leaned back on the bed, his newfound confidence oozing from every pore. "If you want to stay forgiven," he began, his voice still deep and authoritative, "you'll be my boyfriend. And since we're already roommates," he smirked, "we can enjoy each other's company… whenever we like."

Abe looked up at him, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and desire. The thought of being with Aiden, of being owned by him in every way, was something he'd never considered before. But the way his body responded, the way his cock was already starting to swell again at the mere mention of it, told him that he wanted it more than he could ever admit.

"Y…yes, Sir," he murmured, his voice still hoarse from the screams that had torn from his throat moments before. "I'll be your boyfriend. Anything you want."

Aiden leaned over Abe's trembling form, his own chest heaving with the exertion of their encounter. He took a moment to enjoy the sight of the jock's cum-covered abs, his newfound power still resonating through every nerve in his body. He reached over to the nightstand, grabbed a towel, and tossed it to Abe. "Clean up," he said, his voice still laced with dominance.

Abe took the towel, his eyes never leaving Aiden's as he wiped himself down. The reality of what had just transpired was setting in, and he felt a strange mix of fear and excitement. He knew he'd never be able to look at Aiden the same way again, but he also knew that he didn't want to. He liked this new dynamic, the way Aiden made him feel… alive.

"Thank you, Sir," Abe murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Aiden smirked, his hand resting casually on Abe's thigh. "I think it's time we expand our little circle," he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. "We'll go back to Jack's garage doon, and you can help me pick out some clothes for my nerdy friends. I think they'd look good with a little… boost, don't you?"

Abe nodded dumbly, his mind still reeling from the events of the night. "Of course, Sir," he murmured, the word rolling off his tongue with surprising ease.

The room was silent for a moment, the only sounds the rustling of the sheets as they both adjusted their positions. Then, Aiden spoke again, his voice filled with excitement. "I've always wanted to play football," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "But I never had the body for it. Now, I think I might just be able to make the team."

Abe's eyes widened at the suggestion. "The football team?" he echoed, still trying to wrap his head around the new world he found himself in.

Aiden nodded, a smug look on his face. "Why not?" he challenged. "I've got the body for it now." His hand absently caressed his new abs, the muscles rippling under his touch.

Abe stared at Aiden, his mind racing. The thought of his former tormentor joining the football team, let alone playing alongside him, was surreal. But he had no power to refuse. "Y…yes, Sir," he murmured, his voice still thick with submission. "I'll talk to the coach tomorrow."

The two muscular men lay there for a while, their eyes locked in a silent understanding. The tension in the room had shifted from anger to something else entirely. It was a bond, a connection forged in the heat of passion and power. They were equals now, but with a dynamic that was unmistakably skewed in Aiden's favor.

#muscle growth stories #jockification #nerd to jock #jock tf #personality change #male transformation #straight to gay

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rhiannonsknife · 19 hours ago

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fake dating with jackie taylor... what do people love more than a cliché between the popular cheerleader and athlete together? it's okay they kiss, it's just practice, or that longer look, it's to make it seem more real, or that jealousy because someone looked too much at your skirt, it's okay!

— FAKE DATING JACKIE TAYLOR

— summary: cheerleader!reader fake dating hcs.

— warnings: sort of modern au. because there’s no period typical homophobia. fluff. fem!cheerleader!reader.

it all starts out as jackie’s idea:

maybe she wants to make jeff jealous, or maybe she wants to one up another couple at school. either way, she’s confident it’ll work. besides that, it’s almost a mutually beneficial agreement: as a cheerleader, you often get attention from the wrong kind of people in school. whether it’s guys from the football team thinking they stand a chance or ‘only’ rumors that you’re dating someone you definitely aren’t.

“if we date,” jackie says one day in the locker room, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, “we both win! think about it!”

you’re hesitant at first. “jackie, we really don’t need to…fake date“

“maybe you don’t,” she teases, tilting her head, “but some of us need to keep up appearances!” she won’t outright say she’s trying to make jeff jealous, but you’re not stupid. and still, you agree.

jackie has a hundred different rules and conditions for it to be as convincing as possible.

and she is committed, refusing to half ass anything: “okay, first things first: we have to hold hands. like, all the time.” she explains. “that’s just a given!”

“all the time?”

“yes, obviously! in the hallways, at lunch, at parties…“ she lists them off on her fingers. “oh, and you should probably walk me to class. that’s what good girlfriends do!”

and jackie commits. she slips her fingers through yours between classes, slings an arm around your waist during lunch. at group hangouts, she doesn’t hesitate before pulling you onto her lap, her chin resting against your shoulder, voice low in your ear as she teases: “we have to make it believable,”

the first time jackie kisses you…

…it happens so fast, you barely have any time to process it.

you’re at a party, packed into someone’s dimly lit living room, and jackie’s got an arm lazily draped around your waist, playing her part like she always does. that’s until she overhears some guy muttering to his friend: ‘there’s no way they’re actually together’.

you barely catch it over the music but jackie does, and if there’s one thing she hates, it’s people doubting her.

before you can react, she turns to you, cups your cheeks and presses her lips to yours. it’s soft at first, but there’s a purpose behind it, like she’s proving a point to those who are still in doubt about you two. your brain short circuits.

“jesus, jackie,” you mumble when she pulls away.

jackie just pats your cheek, grinning. “don’t look so flustered!” she leans in and adds: “we’re gonna have to get used to it eventually”

after that first kiss, jackie is convinced you’re gonna have to practice some more to really sell the act.

“a real couple wouldn’t just…hesitate like that!” she points out during what’s supposed to be a study session at your place a couple of days later. “we need to work on that!” you arch a brow at jackie from across the bed, where she’s sprawled out in your hoodie. “oh, so now you’re a method actor?”

she scoffs, tossing a pillow at you. “i’m just saying, if we really want this to be convincing, we can’t flinch every time we kiss!“ she looks at you expectantly, propping herself up on her elbows. you didn’t flinch. you froze, because jackie taylor kissed and you haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

“so what exactly are you suggesting?”

jackie tilts her head like it should be obvious by now. “practice…repetition leads to confidence and that’s what we need!” she talks you through it like it’s soccer strategy. you roll your eyes. “right. because that’s totally normal!”

and then there’s the actual kissing practice with jackie.

she misses the sarcasm in your voice. or perhaps she just ignores it. either way, jackie shifts closer. it starts out innocent enough: a quick peck, a short, almost immediate pull away, followed by jackie scrunching her nose in dissatisfaction.

“see? that felt awkward,” she critiques, adjusting on the bed so she's facing you more directly. “try again, but, like...smoother!” you huff. “alright, smoother. got it”

you lean in again, tilt your head a little more, press a little softer. jackie hums approvingly against your lips, but when she pulls back, she still doesn't look satisfied. “better,” she admits, studying your face, your lips. “but i think we should-“

you don't let her finish this time. you’re not sure what comes over you, but you kiss her again, just a little harder than before, and she doesn't stop you. this time, her fingers curl over your shoulder, keeping you close.

it escalates so beautifully from there.

soft pecks turn into lingering ones. lingering ones turn into gentle tugs. you don't know who deepens the next one, only that suddenly jackie’s lips are parting under yours, and her hand is sliding to the back of your neck. she pulls back for a second, eyes half-lidded and lips already a little swollen. “that was...”

“convincing…?” her gaze flickers to your mouth before she nods. “yeah. convincing”

neither of you talks about that again after.

people love the idea of you together and jackie loves the attention.

honestly, it’s not hard to see why: the soccer captain and the head cheerleader? it’s the best pairing whs has seen in years. you hear it in the halls, the whispered gossip and the not so subtle excitement whenever you two walk into a room together.

jackie loves it. you can tell by the way she holds herself a little higher when people talk about you, how she glows under the praise of being part of the school’s it couple.

but speaking of attention: jackie who loves it when you wear her clothes out in public.

she drapes her jacket over your shoulders one morning before class, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “people expect it,” she says. and, honestly, you don’t mind all that much. it’s warm. it’s comfortable. and it smells like her.

after that, it becomes a thing. jackie insists you wear something that’s hers, whether it’s the jacket, her tops or the soccer jersey, and you stop pretending to have an issue with it. she throws it over you after practice, tugging the sleeves up your arms herself with an approving little nod.

jackie, who’s absolutely not jealous at all.

jackie taylor is not jealous. she swears. she’ll say it outright if you ever accuse her of it: “jealous? please. i just think we need to be more convincing!” it’s fine when she flirts with other people, obviously. that’s just how she is, she claims, always flashing smiles, twirling her hair in a way that makes people trip over their words. but when someone flirts with you? that’s when she suddenly has a problem.

“wow, that guy was really into you,” she’ll comment after a big game, voice just a little too sharp.

“what?” you blink. “who?”

“who? seriously?” jackie shakes her head, arms crossed over her chest. “the guy you were talking to for, like, forever at the sidelines?“

“he was just being nice!”

she lets out a short laugh. “nice? nice? he was practically all over you, and you were just standing there, smiling at him like-” jackie cuts herself off then, inhaling sharply. “you know what? doesn’t matter!”

jealous or not, jackie still loves to show off for you.

she has always been a performer, but ever since people started thinking you’re dating, she’s been playing it up even more, milking every moment for all it’s worth: on game days, she winks at you from across the field before the match even starts.

once it does begin, she is on: you knew she was good, of course, but with you watching jackie starts playing like she’s got something to prove. she scores the first goal not even fifteen minutes in, instantly looking out for you. and then, when she finds you in the stands, she points right at you. jackie mouths something you can’t quite make out, but you’re pretty sure it’s along the lines of that was for you.

jackie, who tells some of her teammates that this is all just ‘for show’ and ‘to make jeff jealous’

you’re not surprised when she admits that shauna knows you’re not actually dating; you didn’t except jackie to be able to keep this from her.

but then, one day at lunch, she sighs at you and jackie: “you guys are almost too convincing!” naturally, jackie beams. “obviously, shipman!”

you just shake your head, but then shauna smirks. “if i didn’t know better, i’d think you were actually in love with her.” jackie freezes mid-bite. it’s just one second of silence, but it feels so much longer before she scoffs: “please. i’m just good at this!”

you’re not sure why it stings to hear that.

and still, regardless of her constant reminders, jackie starts to let things slip.

she loves physical touch. it starts small, with the casual arm drapes, leaning against you after practice, dragging you along by the hand, then not letting go like you expected her to. and then there’s the team sleepover she dragged you to.

most of the other yellowjackets around you are either asleep or close to it, curled up in blankets and sleeping bags. you’re lying on your side when jackie shifts behind you, throwing an arm around your waist, snuggling up against your back.

you freeze, eyes snapping open in the dark.

jackie, half asleep, just hums, her breath warm against your shoulder. “what?” she murmurs. you hesitate, barely daring to breathe. “nothing”

jackie hums, already settling back into the warmth of you. “good!” and then she snuggles closer. as her breathing evens out against your neck, and you lie there, wideeyed, you wonder how the hell you’re supposed to keep pretending that this is all just for show.

jackie who starts to feel too familiar. who starts to feel real to you.

in the beginning, it’s easy to remind yourself that she is just playing the role of your girlfriend, the same way jackie plays every role; effortlessly, like she was made for it.

but then, little by little, it starts to feel real.

it’s in the way she links her pinky with yours when no one’s looking, not for an audience, just absentmindedly, like she forgets she doesn’t have to. in the way she picks you up every morning even though she hates driving. in the way she always saves you a seat, always passes you the last fry in the cafeteria without a second thought, always leans in close when she talks like there’s no one else in the room…

the thing with jackie is that she’s good at this. too good. maybe that’s why it sneaks up on you. the way your heart starts to trip over itself when she smiles at you, the way her touch lingers longer than it should, the way you catch yourself wanting it.

wanting her.

#˙💌 ̟ !! ─ my works #jackie taylor #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor x female reader #jackie taylor x you #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x female reader #yellowjackets x you

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