#and boy did he take my fuckin notes !!
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literally cried on set today bc a shot was so good and played out exactly as i had envisioned it when i wrote the script 2 years ago so that's how things are going
#ooc#moop makes movies#literal tears#it only needed two takes. the first one wasn't what i was looking for so i pulled my guy aside and directed him (wow)#and boy did he take my fuckin notes !!#everyone was like R U OK ???? bc i was crying and i was like YEA I CRY WHEN I'M HAPPY THAT WAS THE TAKE#maybe i'm hormonal. maybe this is my calling. maybe it's maybelline#2 more days of filming to go and then we are done wtf wtf wtf
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— HAWKS + DABI + BAKUGO + SHIGARAKI || THINGS THIS LOVESICK BOYS SAY WHEN IN BED WITH YOU
-----------HEADCANONS-----------
HAWKS
“Oh, my darling...fuck, keep doing that.”
“You're so beautiful, I'm so glad we found each other.”
“I know I’m a mess-… what else was I supposed to do while waiting to make you mine?”
“Lay back and let me do all the work. I’ve dreamed of eating your pretty pussy all week.”
“Hey, don’t shy away from me. C’mere-”
“You’re so fuckin’ soft. Shiiit…”
“Hey—no teasing the feathers.”
“I n-need to-... I just-…-I’m going to start moving now.”
“Arms around my neck and legs around my hips— ngh! Gravity is a bitch, I don’t want you falling on me, at least, not literally.”
“What a good mate, you respond to me so well."
“I’m so fuckin’ deep, my pretty girl-”
“Fuck—I can’t... I’m not gonna last-”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I love when you squirt on my face.”
“God I’ve wanted this for so long. I’m going to breed your pussy every day, all day long, even after I’ve knocked you up.”
“We're both getting older, babe, and if we want to have more chicks than stars in the sky, then we need to get started.”
“Tell me you love me-… tell me again.”
“I do get ahead of myself often, but I can’t help it. I just know we belong together-”
“What do you say we try for a baby this time?”
"You’d be adorable, so swollen and full that you can't walk, that you'd have to rely on me for everything...”
“Touch yourself, c’mon. Let me see how you play the right notes.”
“You're going to be a wonderful mother for my chicks.”
“Let me help you move pretty, put your hands on mine.”
“No one’s gonna hear if I put my hand here… no biting, hun.”
“I’ll make it quick, darling... just—let me… let me go again.”
“Need a hand or a finger?”
“Just wait, baby... Fuuuuck—give me a damn minute.”
“Keep your eyes on me.”
“Arch your back, there you go, such a good girl.”
“Fuck, even after cumming you aren’t ready to accommodate my size. Don’t worry, baby,” he kisses your creased forehead, “—then just the tip this time.”
“Shit, I can’t help it—” you can feel him twitching excitedly inside you. “I just like you so damn much!” He grunts and snaps his hips again, diving deeper.
“Just bear with me, I swear I’ll eat you for hours after…. Please, pretty, pleaseeeee…” He kept his pace, practically purring with his throaty groans.
“No matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, I know how to fuck you well, ain’t I, beautiful?”
“C’mon let me hear you, I can feel you getting tighter… my cock’s rubbing those hard-to-reach places…. Fuck! I- slid in so easily.”
“I’m painfully close-…. Fuck, I don’t want to cum yet…”
“Is this your sweet spot I’m bullying?”
“Each thrust is inching you closer… should I slow down or go faster?”
“Deeper? Okey-… just try to keep it together, I have neighbors.”
“Give me one more. please, just one more baby.”
“Try to keep your eyes open, I know it’s hard…b-but try for me beautiful.”
“Go ahead and sleep, honey, I’m not going anywhere.”
NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON
DABI
“What’d I did to deserve such a pretty thing like ya?”
“I’ve barely touch you. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”
“Open your legs, not gonna say it again.”
“Doesn’t hurt, its already scarred skin.”
“If I have to kiss your tears away again, you are gonna get it— I’ve already told ya, it doesn’t hurt anymore-”
“Bury your hands in my hair, yes... Just like that.”
“Stop pushing me away. You’re gonna take it all, don’t make me shove it down your throat.”
“You love to play the feeble act, but your moans give you away, princess.”
“Nuh-uh, you haven’t cum yet.”
“I said ass up.”
“You want it so bad? beg.”
“Take them off before I rip them off of you, doll. Don’t try me.”
“Harder,” he mutters, not a minute after you started. “Harder,” he demands again.
“Could you go any slower? Ride me like you mean it, princess. I know you can.”
“Can barely feel that shit. You gotta do better than that, princess. You know I like it rough.”
“Fuck,” he bit out. “Yes, fuck…. Just like that.”
“Come on pretty girl. Ride me till you’re numb, yeah? Want you to fuck yourself stupid on my cock today.”
“Move my hands again and see what happens-”
“Fuck—”
“Sorry, baby-… I just had to jump at the opportunity to sink my cock deeper.”
“Sit on it.”
“Worried it won’t fit? We always make it work just fine—”
“I don’t have condoms, they’re annoying.” He grunts the reply, inwardly absorbed with impatience.
“Don’t move—Just gimme a minute… F-Fuck…”
“You fuckin’ genius, dammit, I love you so damn much! Not even I knew that spot— …” He shakes his head, in disbelief of the pleasure, even more so that you been the one to give it to him.
“Did you do that on purpose, princess? ‘cause now we are doing it every time.”
“Fuck that. Don’t know if you heard sweetheart, but you were made for me to fuck and breed.”
“Stop it, no more whining—I’ll do my best to be…. gentler.”
“Really? resist me all you want. I know you love being treated like this.”
“Ridiculous, I could stare at your pretty cunt all day long.”
“Fuck Yeah! I adore the way your thighs tremble like jelly after you cum.”
“Should I pull out? Nah, better give me a daughter to spoil.”
“Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessing this is because of my pretty face?”
“Over my knee, now.”
“Sure, I love ya— but you are not in charge here, princess. Fuckin’ spread them for me.”
“Want me to spank that pussy? lay on my lap then-”
“One’s never enough, I know my princess’s pussy and its begging for another.”
NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON
BAKUGO (NSFW art teaser here!)
“Do you want me to fuck you harder, cutie?”
“You can be loud, I love to hear you, (Y/N).”
“I’ve waited so long for this...”
“That’s it... slow and easy—”
“How much longer you gonna make me wait, baby?”
“You ever take it raw? Get a big load of cum in your pussy? —don’t shy on me, I know you love when I talk dirty to you.”
“Take it off before I tear it off.”
“Baby... please...I hate to beg-”
“Make me wait much longer and I’ll have to fuck you in an alley somewhere.”
“What a naughty little girl I have just to myself.”
“Ugh, so hot and wet.”
“I said I wanted to eat your pussy, didn’t I? Just sit back and enjoy it, baby girl.”
“I’d hate to stop teasing you right before the fun part.”
“It’s so warm...”
“Who do you belong to?”
“Whose pussy is this? Say who you belong to.”
“God, what a good fucking cunt. It keeps clenching on my cock like it’s hungry for more milk. You want that? You want me to fill you up?”
“As you wish, princess.”
“You gonna cum?”
“Go on, gorgeous. Cum on Daddy’s cock.”
“Fucking take it... take every drop...”
“Nice and stuffed... all mine... my little slutty girl...”
“I said spread those fuckin’ folds.”
“So wet and tight, but my cock just slides right in. It’s like you were born to take me inside of your cunt.”
“Aren’t you a sight. All blissed out when we aren’t even done.”
“That’s right, darlin’. You didn’t think you could tease me for so long and get away with just one little fuck, did you?”
“Oh, did you think we were finished?”
“Did I stutter or somethin’?”
“Alright, baby girl, you asked for it. Just don’t come crying to me if you can’t move after I’m done with you.”
“Don’t move—Just a sec… F-Fuck…”
“No, this is-this is fine. This is beyond fine. Keep doing it, please.”
“Shit, darling, don’t-”
“God, you make me so needy. Please.... fuck, please...”
“You feel so wonderful, I might go crazy—"
“More... please, more...”
“Fuck, I’m stretching you so good.”
“God, the thought of you ever doing something like this to anyone else... I can’t stand it.”
“I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. You’re my precious BABY, now and forever."
NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON
SHIGARAKI
“It isn’t even a ‘might’. I can tell you right now with the utmost certainty that you are MINE.”
“Keep looking into my eyes, don’t you fuckin’ look away…”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” He coos in a demeaning tone. “I’ll be your first and your last. Not any of these other NPCs.”
“I can hardly keep my hands to myself, your room or mine.”
“I can do whatever I want to you, I’m player one!”
“I know, I’m keeping track of my digits, don’t worry your pretty head.”
“You are too precious to me to turn to dust, my love.”
“I can’t- I’m dying to breed you, to bury my cock in your wet pussy. Don’t move, I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”
“My pants are uncomfortably tight, the fabric’s straining against my throbbing dick, I told you not to put on that dress, dammit” Shigaraki’s practically scratching at the wooden table, surges of arousal shaking him to his core. “Can we go now? Like right NOW?!”
“MY girl, so pretty and needy for my cock.”
“You want him dead. You got it.” Ruby eyes stare through his bangs up at your face in some sort of silent promise. “—Of course, I will. You are my everything.”
“It hurts. I need you to- FUCK, just like that.”
“Fuck, how-how are you this fucking wet and warm inside, fuck, fuck…!”
“Please fuck me.”
“H-hey, I know a fun game we can play together… It’s called ‘how many times can I make you cum all over my cock?’”
“One point, five points, ten points—Cumming again? Are you shooting for a new high-score, sweetheart?”
“Now... care if I use my mouth on you?”
“Just be good for me, and I’ll take very, very good care of you.”
"Look at you, so worked up over a few couple of fingers, did you miss me that much, sweetheart?"
“Just looking at you is enough to, oh fuck, drive me wild.”
"So desperate for my cock to stuff you-say it, say you want my cock—ngh!”
"S-Shit,"
"Needy girl, I'll let you have it, be fucking grateful."
"What? Fainting on me already?"
"Don't let me see you doing this again, or else."
“Just fuck me. I need you, (Y/N), please. Please just fuck bury on me already...! I want it...! I want YOU..!”
“Have it your way then.”
"Keep licking my balls, oh fuck! I’m gonna die—"
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-!"
“You look so pretty choking on my cock.”
“Where do you want it, baby? Mouth, breast, face, pussy… take your pick-”
"Are you close, sweetie?"
“My feisty little girl. Aren’t you just adorable?”
"Good girl. Give me a minute and I’ll clean up that mess you made."
“Cum for me. Cum on my cock and show me that you’re mine.”
“I just... wanted to cuddle a little more, is all. Didn’t want to... you know, waste the moment.”
“Don’t you worry, my love. I’ll be sure to give you anything you could ever want and more.”
“You don’t have to take me all the way into your esophagus, but I expect you to make me cum, and yes, I do want you to swallow.”
“Go on, get on your knees.”
“Ngh, that’s it, keep going...”
“You look so wonderful like this, with your lips wrapped around my cock. I wish I could take a pic for Dabi to swallow his words.”
“I want you all to myself.”
“H-here it comes...Be sure... to drink... every.. last... drop...YOU ARE FUCKIN’ MINE!!”
I MADE SOME SICK NSFW ART FOR THIS HEADCANONS, YOU CAN CHECK THEM OUT IN MY PATREON. (Along with more MHA nsfw artwork)
#mha fanfiction#mha headcanons#my hero academia#hawks x reader#bakugo x reader#hawks x you#bakugo x you#dabi x reader#dabi x you#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x you#bakugo smut#hawks smut#hawks imagines#bakugo fluff#dabi smut#shigaraki smut#shigaraki tomura#dabi todoroki#keigo takami x reader#keigo takami#bakugo katsuki#kacchan#reader insert#mha imagines#bnha imagines#bnha fanfiction#mha x reader#bnha#yandere x reader
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𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋. ♡
🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ thinking about aot men who’d be the softest doms ever . . .
·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍, 𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇, 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍, 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐓
cw — fem!reader. size kink (erwin) body worship (jean, levi) praise kink. lots of breedings. edging, fingering, some nipple play (levi) sub!armin (implied)
◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : hi hi! it’s been a while since i made an actual post here. apologies! life got busy, but i finally have time to make fics again :D there might be some changes on this account but we’ll see! anyways, please enjoy and feedback is welcomed! 🤍
➸ jean kirstien.
he’s already so much of a sweetheart, so it’s not shock he’s carry that to the bedroom. he’s needy but slow, as it’d be way too easy to accidentally hurt you. the size difference aroused yet made him a bit nervous. (the first time was quite a hassle!) nonetheless, jean gave you the fuckin’ princess treatment every time the both of you would get intimate. kissing every inch of your body while caressing your hips with his large hands. he’d gently lay your down, not pulling away from the sloppy kiss the two of you are engaging in. did i mention that this man is huge? he adores watching you struggle to take him completely, squirming and whining as he stretches your smaller cunny inch by inch.
“j-jean..’s too big!” you whined, watching through glassy eyes as your boyfriend hovered over you, sinking himself deeper and deeper into your weeping cunt. your legs twitch in a failing attempt to keep them open, something jean would immediately notice. “does it hurt babe?” he asked in a groan, hazel eyes carving holes into yours through hooded lids. you could only shake your head as he took it as a confirmation to bottom himself out. your eyes rolled to your brain and your jaw went slack as jean watched in awe. “look at you..taking it so well f’me.” he sighed, slowly beginning to pump you full as ecstasy filled your senses. the only thing you could hear were jean’s sweet praises, telling you how much of a good little girl you were for taking him so well and patiently. your head grew hot as the feeling of his dick stuffing you full began to overwhelm you. “good little girl, always taking my dick so well..fuck you’re so cute!”
➸ erwin smith.
oh my god. erwin. what more can i say, he’s a gentleman in bed! anything you ask for, he will do without hesitation. want him to knock you up? done. want some head? he’s already on his knees. sad after a rough day? he’ll stuff your cunny full until your filled n happy. anything your heart desires, he’ll give it to you with all the adoration he has for you. ♡ even better when you realize how big he is. how he can easily pick you up and fuck you silly in mid air if he really wanted to. even better, how massive his fucking dick is, enough to make your mouth water just by the thought of it.
“e-erwin!” you whined, watching your husband’s face as he stared down at you. a gaze full of softness and love, a stark contrast to how he was treating you. a smile to his wife while fucking her slutty pussy like an attention deprived whore. “how did i get so lucky? what did i do to deserve such a beautiful girl as my wife..” he breathily chuckled, fucking into you at a slightly faster pace. erwin started down at you, from your flustered smile to your breasts and stuffed cunt, every last detail on you brought him closer to the edge. “good girl..my good girl. you deserve every inch i give you..”
➸ levi ackerman.
contrary to popular belief, levi isn’t the mean and rough dom many make him out to be (still adore that levi tho!) but rather, a gentle and passionate type of dom. he’s not the most romantic, but oh boy, when he is..buckle up. this man will treat you like your his final meal on death row, savoring every inch of flesh you have on your body. kissing you from your lips to your clit, muttering sweet nothings while pumping his slender fingers inside your cunny. he sings his praises when he’s balls deep in you, calling you names like ‘princess’ and ‘darling’, anything that fills your stomach with butterflies if its not his cock. your legs are already trembling from his voice alone, not helping the fact his groans are fuckin’ perfection.
“settle down princess, i barely did a thing.” levi carassed your breast with one hand while finger fucking you with the other. all he needed was two fingers and his wrist as he flicked it with a quickened pace that almost forced your thighs shut from shock and pleasure. while your mouth was closed, tiny whines still manage to spill through as your husband’s thumb moved it’s way to your clit, adding to the overstimulation. with his other hand, he tugged and played with your nipple while letting go just to take a gentle squeeze to your whole breast. you’re thighs shook as your orgasms reaches closer and you grabbed the coller of levi’s loose shirt for support. “‘s becoming too much princess? you wanna cum all over my fingers?” he spoke in a gentle and low tone, making you nod eagerly to his question. “How cute, shit—if only I could do this everyday.”
➸ armin arlot.
armin armin armeeen! <3 you already know what kind of man he is. his partner’s pleasure is a priority he takes very seriously, from letting you choose the position to making sure you orgasm first before he spills his seed inside you. he gives you princess treatment even after sex, not letting up until you knock out from exhaustion. he fucks you like your a goddess, hitting every sensitive spot in your while singing his praises. he wants, no, needs to see you cum around his cock as it’ll make the night worth it. he won’t lie, seeing you whimpering and shamelessly getting off to him servicing you never fails to push him over the edge and nearly fuck a baby in you. this man is a keeper!
“t-this good enough for you..?” armin sighed, watching you take in his dick inch by inch until you’ve completely sat down on it. “y-yeah..fuck you’re huge..!” you whined out, grabbed his thighs and trying your best to move while the overwhelming pleasure had you shaking. the blonde placed his hands on the plush of your hips, firmly holding it as he lifted you up from his cock before slamming you back down on it. a yelp tore from your throat, nails digging into the flesh of his thigh and your eyes screwed shut from the sharp pleasure. “right there! armin fuck..!” you mewl as he guided your hips, slamming his cock in and out of you at the pace you desired the most. his blue eyes peered through his bangs as he grew redder and redder from the expression you wore so beautifully. mouth parted open in an ‘o’ shape with slightly arched eyebrows, pink washed over your face with red sitting right on your cheeks. fuck, he was insatiable. “yes..just like that love, just like you wanted. always taking it like the good girl you are. ♡”
© porcalinecunt 💌 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.
#𓆩♱𓆪 — porcelaincunt !#aot imagines#aot x you#aot x y/n#aot x reader#aot smut#aot fanfiction#aot x female reader#jean kirschtien#aot jean#jean kirstein#jean x reader#jean x y/n#jean x you#armin aot#armin arlert#armin x reader#armin smut#armin x y/n#armin x you#erwin smith#aot erwin#erwin x reader#erwin smut#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman x y/n smut#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman smut#levi ackerman#x fem reader
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Can we please please please have more of bad boy Geto?? Sfw or nsfw as per your wishh
🔞 MDNI/18+
★ BAD BOY!
★ Pt. 1
★ Pairings : Geto Suguru / fem!reader
★ Synopsis : your boyfriend is a bad boy that your parents disapprove of 😈🏍️🖤
★ Warnings : 🔞 MDNI/18+, smut, cunnilingus, creampies, condoms/taking off condoms (consensual), riding his motorcycle 🥵, names (princess/baby/sl*t), some cervix rubbing/big d*ck Geto, toys (G-spot vibe), bl*wjob, degradation, corruption kink, daddy kink, breeding kink, mentions of being drunk (fluffy), +++
★ Note : i wrote this in public and felt super giggly abt it lol
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who rumbles down your street on his bike, gloved hands resting on the handles, and stares at your house. He waits and quickly sees you trotting out the front door like a princess escaping her castle. He gives you a French kiss before saying "Hey princess. Hop on."
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who has watched you ride his motorcycle — no no, not in the way you think. Panties soaked. Clit squished on the seat. Rutting back and forth. "That's a good little princess. Cum on it like it's my thigh."
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who takes you to get your first body piercing. He leads you by the hand and his face is alight with a devilish grin. "I can't wait to buy you pretty piercings, baby. You're gonna look so good strutting around town wearing my diamonds."
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who asks after suckling on your puffy clit for a whole hour; "Baby, I think you like me too much. You know I'm a bad influence, right?"
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who lets you sit on his lap whenever you have to treat one of his black eyes. "Hey, you know what would make me feel better, baby? If you rode my lap like you ride on my bike 😇"
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who makes it very apparent that he has a tongue piercing by rolling it over your clit and through your slit over and over. He laps up your juices after making you cum, and seductively wipes the streak of your slick off his cheek with his thumb.
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who loves it when your secret kinks slip past your lips. "Did you just call me daddy?" he asks and you immediately blabber apologies, but he just silences you with a rough kiss, "I can be your daddy, baby. You just lay back and take it like a good girl, okay?"
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who grins like a devil when corrupting you with new kinks, and enjoys turning your innocent kinks into something nastier.
"You're taking me so well." he praises you in a soft voice while his cockhead rubs into your cervix, "Can't believe your pussy can take so much cock. Such a greedy little cunt..." he puts his full weight on you when he nears orgasm, trapping you with his sweaty, muscular body. "Fuck, your slutty little hole is gonna milk me dry. You ready? Yeah I'm gonna give you my babies. Can't believe you wanna get pregnant. You just need a big cock stretching you out 'n that makes you happy, yeah? Aw, cockdrunk fuckin' slut... yeah I know you like it when I call you a slut, too. Nasty little slut. Take my cock, baby. Just take it."
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who is also a tattoo artist and gives you your first tattoo. You have to hide it from your parents, and something about this fact makes Suguru smirk. He's put his mark on their precious girl — their daughter.
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who gets off on the fact he's the bad boy corrupting someone's innocent daughter.
"Baby, you know I'm no good." he hums against your ear in an irresistible voice. "You shouldn't be sneaking around with me." he drops his voice lower and nibbles your ear, "You're being a bad girl."
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who, when drunk with you, proclaims his love for you over and over and over.
"Fuck, babyyy I love you so much. Come here 'n gimme another kiss." and then he smothers you with kisses until you're making out on his parked motorcycle in the empty parking lot at night. "God, whenever I kiss you I feel like marrying you so bad..."
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who treats you like you're a goddess. Wiping your tears when you cry about anything, murmuring "Please don't cry, princess." and also using this line on you when you cry from pleasure about how big his cock is, or when your eyes water when deepthroating him for the first time.
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who, even after being kicked out of your house many times by your dad, still climbs in through your window to fuck you in your bed.
He fills condom after condom but then he checks his wallet and oops — he ran out of condoms. "I wanna take you raw, Sugu, please!" you paw at his abdomen and wiggle your pussy back down on his sensitive cock. He hisses through his teeth, "Fuck, okay... anythin' for my princess..." and plunges his big cock into you raw.
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who has been shoved out of the front door by the collar of his biker's jacket by your disapproving parents. He makes a joke of it, putting his hands up as if he's being arrested and laughing naughtily.
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who promises; "I'll come back for ya, princess." and he does. He whisks you away. You give him dolly eyes and beg to run away with him.
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who stuffs a hot pink G-spot vibrator in your pussy before letting you straddle his motorcycle.
He smirks while riding, knowing that you're feeling the rumbling vibrations on your pussy as well as the buzzing of the toy stuffed inside you. Oh and he just loves seeing you struggle to dismount the seat once you're parked. "Bad girl, you made the seat all wet with your pussy." he scolds playfully.
— ★ Bad boy Geto Suguru who always unzips his pants tantalizingly slowly.
His heavy cock smacks against your cheek as soon as it's freed, it's always accidentally-on-purpose. "Sorry, princess, did that hurt?" he asks sarcastically while rubbing his tip across your glossy lips. "Spit on it." he commands, and you happily spit on his cock. "That's a good girl — kitten lick it. Yeah, just like that." he groans and tenses his abs. "Now open wide."
© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
#🔞.smut#geto#geto suguru#geto smut#mdni#smut#geto x reader#tw: smut#geto suguru x reader smut#geto suguru smut#jjk smut#jjk geto#suguru geto
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PRETTY FACE, BAD HABITS.
ft: Atsumu Miya, Tōru Oikawa, Tobio Kageyama, Shōyō Hinata, & Kei Tsukishima.
warnings: smut, afab!reader, daddy kink (atsumu), spanking, fingering, praise kink (oikawa), degradation, alcohol consumption (shōyō), cunnilings, enemies to lovers, small mentions of squirting, they’re lowk a lil filthy and obsessed MUNCH!shōyō bc definitely learned things in Brazil, coffee shop trope.
note: rereading hq, I am incredibly unwell and the volleyball pixels won’t leave me alone. Divider by @grlselle !!!
Thinking about gorgeous boys with pretty faces to the media who are so sadistic behind closed doors.
It goes without saying that setters are the notorious kings of this trope. Given that their charming faces tend to hide a fundamental need to be in control, constantly calling the shots n’ all. The facade cracks behind closed doors.
ATSUMU MIYA ... 4/10, not that shocking. He’s the face of MSBY, the golden boy. He’s got far more acceptable social skills than his other teammates: Shōyō, Kiyoomi, and Kōtarō, he knows how to handle himself in an interview. Flashing a toothy smile here, winking in a fan photo there. He has the hottest face in volleyball.
However, you had to have known about his silver tongue. It’s how he coaxes round after sadistic round out of you.
His stamina is much better than yours and to that he takes full advantage, being a pro-athlete has its perks. The downside is, his pretty face betrays the filth that spews from his maw when you fuck. “Yeah baby, think this messy pussy can give daddy another?”
He’s deplorable — that’s exactly why you keep crawling under him — the vileness you can only find there. “Y-yes, please ‘tsumu!” but woefully, it just isn’t enough for him, ever. He takes care of your trivial needs while chasing his own blissful completion.
“Ah ah baby, it’s daddy when I’m fuckin’ this cunt. Just hear how wet it is for me, fuck angel.” It’s humiliating, hot tears spilling past your lashes as his muscular thighs ram him impossibly further in you. You’re certain he’s in your cervix now.
“Shit — tight n’ creamy too,” he moans, “Feels so good on my cock.” He’s focused, a thin layer of sweat making his platinum blond hair stick to his forehead, eyebrows drawn together in concentration trying to feel everything you can offer him.
It drives you insane how he spoils you with unforgiving pleasure, never shy of showing just how bad he wants you. “Be daddy’s good girl and jus’ take it for me, yeah?”
And with a slap of your ass, he’s back to full speed, fucking you right up the mattress.
TŌRU OIKAWA … 8/10, a sleeping giant, don’t poke the bear. He was your summer fling, making you bubble with excitement and frenzy. His gorgeous face and native tongue were foreign to you but you recognized him from high-level volleyball matches on the news now and then.
Tōru was distinctly filled with passion, in everything he did you could feel it. He was a proud man through and through with a lust for victory.
That’s why he’s such a sadistic fuck, he’s too proud to stop even after he’s came inside you thrice. “Go on princess tell me, whose fingers can make you cum like this?” It’s those hands, those damn fingers you melt on every time he’s knuckled deep inside your sopping heat.
“Yours Tōru, only yours!” He’s peeled back every last restraint on your sanity with his body, reducing you to a tearful sticky mess pooling in his lap.
“I know mami, I know. You have to prove it to me though, show me how much you love it,” he muses rhetorically. His chin rests on your shoulder to get the best view of his practiced digits disappearing in and out of your tight sex; just how you like, just how you need. Those seasoned setter hands are a blessing.
“Ah! oh god — I’m, m’cumming— Tōru,” your chest heaves in his strong arms as he holds you there, letting you freely use and cream on his hands. He’s just so proud that he can make you feel good, so he’ll keep doing it. Over and over again.
“Look at you, my little slut. Just can’t help yourself from cumming all over me, hm?” The squelch of his three thick fingers and your slick coats his hand and your thighs alike.
TOBIO KAGEYAMA … 7/10, delving deeper, it makes sense. On the surface and to your friends and family, Tobio was your good boy. A perfect husband who was very successful in his career, and able to provide for you. People would remark on how starkly different your personalities were, the tabloids even going as far as questioning his feelings towards you.
But you know he loves you when he’s jackhammering your cunny like a rabbit. His brain only knows two things, volleyball and then all his other primal instincts. “Gonna fuck you till you’re sore, you hear me?”
He’s pushed your drooling face into the mattress to deepen your arch, greedy to feel more of your pussy suck him like candy. “You think I don’t see the way you watch me whore,” it’s like he’s punishing you with each grueling stroke of his thick cock inside you. “That’s exactly why you’re getting fucked like one. A dirty, cock-hungry, whore.”
That polite well-mannered man, a simple facade for something more sinister. They mistake his introversion for shyness when in reality he’s most likely self-censoring. He’s not much of a people person and lives a secluded life.
But all throughout his private practice today you plagued him with this singular thought: Kageyama craves it to no end, your utter and total obedience to him. He’s used to controlling his spikers, but you? You bring out an entirely new sadistic side of him. His one track mind learning every inch of your body fast.
“Stop! it’s t’much,” you cry into the sheets, overwhelmed by his sheer power. It feels like he’s deep in your guts with every strong piston of his hips against your ass. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your ears making your brain fuzzy.
“Maybe you should think about that next time you try and tease me,” he knows you want it exactly like this. You rile him up to get a rise out of him, pushing him to his limits and beyond. Exactly how he likes it.
He snakes a hand in between your warm connected bodies, pressing his palm over the outline of himself nestled in your tummy. “Remember how my dick feels inside you right now,” and he smirks feeling you tighten up around him.
You’re so incredibly plaint to a guy like him. His perfectly tuned toy.
With middle blockers, it’s different. They just want to watch you submit. Whether they’re reading the court, blocking, or killing the ball; it gives them an indistinguishable thrill to bring something to its knees deliberately.
SHŌYŌ HINATA … 11/10, virtually undetectable thus making him the most dangerous. When you met him, you found him to be a bit too big for his britches. He was such a sweet guy nonetheless, buying your drinks and slotting a friendly arm around your waist that night.
It felt good to have his attention, those dark brown eyes analyzing your every jiggle and jive. For some reason that night no one else seemed to approach you, perhaps it was due to the fact that #21 of Asas São Paulo had his eye on you.
“Do you wanna come home with me,” you ask him smooth as silk, carding your nails in his short ginger locks. He purs in response, groaning at the sensation and grinding himself against the thin cloth of your club dress.
He’s deceptive, but it’s not on purpose. “Please mami.” He just needs you to know how badly he wants you. Do you not realize he’s everything you need? No matter, he’ll show you.
“Mhhhm, more Shō,” you breathe life into his name like it’s a prayer, supple thighs caging his face to keep him planted there between them. It’s not like he’s going anywhere though, lips suckling on your sweetness as he lifts your ass off the bed to get a better taste.
His mouth does things you didn’t know it could do, massaging your pillowy folds before diving tongue first into your wet slit. It was making you feel hot watching him as he watched you, intent on making you buck against him for more.
He welcomes it, grinding his raging boner into the mattress and groaning into your pussy. “So fucking sexy when you do that baby, drives me crazy,” he says through kisses with your swollen clit.
That same sweet guy is nowhere to be found as there's an insatiable monster between your legs that you willingly invited into your home. “Keep goin’ love, wanna make this sweet pussy squirt.” You’re his, hook line, and sinker.
ps: don’t worry, after this, he’ll go three more rounds with just his cock alone and you better be able to handle it.
KEI TSUKISHIMA … 9/10, only triggered if you can get him to open his big mouth. He was a quiet man. Stoic as he sat in the same chair, in the same corner, at the same café, every day at exactly 6 am.
He may have been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Well dressed with fair skin, golden eyes, and blond hair that made him stand out amongst the other patrons. Not to mention the fact he was ginormous, making the cafe chairs almost look like stools as he quietly checked his email. From over your shoulder, you watch him adjust his glasses, opting to look from afar but not touch.
It seems he doesn’t give you the chance though, approaching you as your heart beats loudly in your chest. He’s even more gorgeous as he grows close. His skin smooth like marble matches the stiffness of his face. “You seem to have a staring problem.”
At first, Kei thought you might have been a Frogs fan. That's the only possible excuse he could muster. Then he began to notice the lingering stares as well.
Excuse me— Did you just hear him correctly? You certainly didn’t mean him any harm, if anything it was a compliment. “And you seem to have an attitude problem, doesn’t seem like much can help that though. Goodbye,” you practically scoff before returning to your book and good coffee. What an arrogant fucking jerk.
Before he leaves, he drops a small piece of paper next to your cup. “Have a nice day, miss stalker,” you huff under your breath unfolding the small slip. ‘Maybe you can fix me. xxx-xxx-xxxx'
Since then, the only thing you two seem to do is argue. Especially when he’s stuffed eight inches deep in you from behind, “giving me so much attitude when you just needed a good fuck.” Him and that big fucking mouth, he must love hearing himself talk.
“if you wanted to get fucked like a slut then you could have just said so, brat.” He sneers, spanking you with considerable force behind his meaty palm. You’re Keis’ good girl, of course you can take it. He's trained you to do so.
“Sh-shut up and just fuck me Kei,” he loves when you talk to him like that, using his name like you own it. You’re wrapped around his finger as he bullies his girth into you.
“How can I when this greedy cunt’s not letting me go?” He’s right, within these four walls you’re his as you clench around him even tighter. “You can’t even fit all this,” he’s just inexplicably sexy, condescending yet so giving as he angles himself forward into the plush of your ass.
Pleasing you is an art to him, a deliberate one that he studies to get the best results. It’s brutal how fat his dick is, it matches his brash personality. “Go on, cum.” He says with sheer confidence.
Seconds later you’re unraveling before him as if it was pre-meditated. Like he instinctively knew when it was going to occur, permitting you before the act.
#haikyuu#hq#this is NOT what you all followed me for and honestly I’m just as surprised as you are#wipes a tear#haikyuu smut#hq smut#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#hq x you#hq x y/n#hinata smut#atsumu smut#oikawa smut#kageyama smut#tsukishima smut#tsukishima x reader#atsumu x reader#oikawa x reader#haikyuu fanfiction#kageyama x reader#oikawa x y/n#atsumu x y/n#tsukishima x y/n#I did have a lot of fun writing this#I miss this set up style for x reader works
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「 ꨄ︎ 」 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐄 .ᐟ
⁀➴ humans were much more fragile than he thought.
⋮ NOTE DETAILS — mammon x gn!mc. careless scars. wc ≈ 1K .ᐟ
"What's.. I... how do ya even injure yourself like THIS!?"
"I... don't know...?"
You gave an awkward smile. Eyes shaking from what remained of the adrenaline rush, your hands resting atop your stomach while you lie down on the couch.
"Oh for fuck's sake, treasure," Mammon cursed, removing his sunglasses as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Seriously, you barely even started your day. There you were: bedridden and partly immobile, with every sway of your leg hurting a tad more than the last.
Not that you can say anything, but it was a careless accident.
...
It was more careless than it was accidental. The shelves within the grand library at the House of Lamentation were far beyond your reach. By genius design, you had no choice but to use the dark spook tree ladder that was left isolated to the corner shelves.
You could try to use magic, though you are unfamiliar with the general book's looks, for you only knew the title and the name of the author. 'course you also had the option to ask Satan for guidance, but the blonde had whisked himself away to the barricaded doors of the attic --- who knew what he and the youngest had planned for their measly prank.
And who knew how slippery unattended furniture can get.
You have not a choice: by deduction, the best course of action was to use the ladder and manually look for it yourself.
With the success of finding the book, surely a long, carpentered, intricately designed slab of wood wouldn't betray you. Now would it?
The first step downward was manageable.
The second step caused the old ladder to wobble, near stumbling back to the floor; yet otherwise stood still as you maintained balance.
As the third step came, as if by some imaginary liquid, you missed. You lost your grip.
There you came tumbling down with the sharp wooden edges grazing against your leg. And then you landed on the floor, upright, yes, but your left leg stuck against the fifth to the last step.
Your leg a swollen red, a long scratch from your ankle stretched upward towards the lower knee - where blood dripped down the open scar.
"Shhh...f-" you hissed, taking your leg off the ladder and- oh. You might've misplaced a bone there. You had to drag your leg up to a nearby couch, taking sharp deep breaths to take your mind off the pain.
...
So that was the story. When you told Mammon the first time, he gave you a dumbfounded look. Nonetheless, when he found you, he was worried as hell.
Beyond the grave.
But the golden boy had to rush and rummage through every cabinet to find the human-safe emergency kit. You admit, it was adorable watching him slip from his "superiority" facade.
Ahhhh.. your train of thought came to a halt at the stinging sensation. Causing your leg to jerk up, but Mammon held it down by the knee.
"Aye- Don't move," he said, while he tried to gently disinfect the scar with the isopropyl alcohol. Not a sensation you weren't familiar with, but god it burns.
"I'm sorry, but, could you please go a little faster?"
"Ya sure, human?" he scoffed. His finger traced along the long bump of the scratch, watching the skin scorch crimson before he shook his head. "Nuh uh."
You tilt your head up to get a better look at your golden boy, raising a brow. "What do you mean 'nuh uh'?"
"Ain't no way I'm leavin' ya alone after pullin' that stunt."
"It's just once!" You raised your hands in feigned surrender. "I'll be careful next time."
Mammon huffed his cheeks in a pout, grabbing the wool bandage off the red box. Carefully wrapping it around your calf, careful not to put too much pressure on your shin, lest you kick his face.
"Bullshit," he muttered. There were more words said, yet you couldn't seem to make them out. His usual voice in an ever soft tone: slurred words that only he could comprehend.
You did manage to catch a string of words. "not on my fuckin' watch you aren't" while he tries to fix the jumbled up bandage.
Seriously, it looked good but tying it together had always been a challenge. After all, the great avatar of greed was more known for breaking things unloose, not putting them back together.
He tried. Mammon tried. Not the best of the best, but Mammon tried his best.
You can't help but give a soft smile, watching him mumble curses as he finally figured out how to tidy up the loose ends: finding the metallic clip and pinching it on there in hopes that it sticks.
He lifts his gaze one more time to meet yours. This time, Mammon was the one raising his brow. Looking annoyed, but his intrigue was betrayed by the curious glint of his tinted sapphire eyes.
"Whatcha lookin' at me for?"
A small chuckle escaped your lips, tilting your head to the side. "Thank you."
Two words. Mammon scoffed, averting his gaze. "S-shut up. Of course ya should thank me!!" as by virtue it is a great honour to be served by the GREAT Mammon.
Though you lay there, smiling like an idiot in his eyes. How you're transfixed with the cherry red creeping up on his tan cheeks, how he subconsciously purse his lips, puffing his cheeks to not let his words betray him. How despite everything he says, he still works his way to tend to you.
To care for you. To love you.
Or to simply keep you company when no one else could. Honestly, it made the future all the less scary. The uncertainty is all the less terrifying. The possibility of your bones giving up just feels all the more natural than ill-driven.
While selfish, greedy to an extent, you figured worrying in the future might just be a hoax. A fantasy in your head.
They say to get your head out the gutter, yet you couldn't help but examine each worse case scenario.
And if it's with him to your aid? It will all feel right.
note.s : lesson learned, always watch your step when climbing down ladders.
check out my masterlist | divider by adornedwithlight
#!! dtwrites#!! dtdrabbles#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me swd#obey me x reader#obey me x mc#obey me x you#obey me mammon#obey me mammon x reader#obey me mammon x you#obey me mammon x mc#obey me fluff#obey me!#om mammon#om! shall we date
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after midnight | carmen berzatto x reader
summary: chicago is expensive, okay? so you pick up a job outside of the restaurant which just so happens to involve your camera. everything's fine until richie stumbles upon the website and shares it with camry.
contents: perv!carmy, male & female masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, cam sex, slight dub-con kinda if you look for it. carmy’s honestly a wreck. mentions of unprotected sex, choking, oral sex, overstimulation. please note!! no formal intercourse takes place yet but it's cuming coming but ya girl wants a slow burn
reader description: she/her pronouns, there is semi a hair scene but i use no real descriptors so still vague!
word count: basically 3.9k
author notes: first fic in a year baby and boy did i lose the plot!! filth!! also i sure love saying fuck in this so enjoy that
part two
★–————————–
Richie’s voice is annoying. It echos, ricochets off the walls, and can’t be contained by even the highest quality of sound proofing. Which is why, at 8 in the morning, Carmen’s already considering having to take Excedrin as Richie bursts through the doors.
“Carmy, Cousin, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what I found last night.” He’s out of breath after running in, fumbling around with his phone in a rush to pull something up. He’d spent all night contemplating if he texted Carmen or waited to show him in person. Ultimately the urge to see his reaction won but that didn’t stop Richie from waking up before his alarm out of excitement. “Listen, we’re both grown ass men so I’m gonna say it -“ he’s glancing around to make sure they’re alone, “- So I’m laying there and jerkin’ my shit, right?”
Carmen’s wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose and contemplating every decision that brought him back to Chicago.
“Dude, fuck off. I don’t wanna hear -“ Richie tsks, cutting him off.
“Nah, shut the fuck up because you wanna hear this. In fact, you’re gonna wanna fall to your knees and kiss my shoes and praise my ass as a thank you for finding this.”
He’s holding up his phone, an iPhone 8 he refuses to upgrade, and illuminated on the screen is a video of you. You, on your knees, in lingerie. You, with your fingers dragging down your chest, across the lace that covers your breasts. Your head falls back as you run your thumbs across your nipples. A sound so angelic coming from your lips that Carmen starts to understand why people spend so much time at Church. He’s convinced you’re hand carved by God, or Buddha, or whatever might be up there.
Carmy’s instantly feeling a rush of heat across his chest and his cheeks as he takes the sight of you in. It feels wrong but at the same time the coiling in his stomach feels so good he can’t look away quite yet. “Why the…” He’s cut off by a whine coming from Richie’s speaker as you keep teasing yourself. His brain is frying for a second as he tries to focus on finishing his sentence. “How the hell did you find this?”
“Listen, sometimes I get bored on the same ole sites, okay? Clicked an ad to see who was live and ended up here. Now I stopped watching, obviously, out of respect but this? I’ve known you long enough to know when you gotta thing for someone and you’re not gonna act on it. Also, I caught you staring at her ass as she filled the deep freeze the other night. Kinda gave it away. So this is the way you can still get some pussy while being a fuckin’ pussy.” Richie’s punching the air, clearly proud of himself.
Carmy’s smacking him upside the head, his body now torn between lust and annoyance. “Watch your mouth, alright? That is so fucked, Richie. Put that shit anyway and I better not see you tell a single other person this exists.”
And yeah, he took note of your screen name before he walked away. Don’t judge him.
———★–————————–
Look - There have been a lot of times in his life where Carmen hasn’t been proud of himself. But settling back into bed, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down to rest under his balls? Yeah, he’s not proud to say the least. After seeing even just the glimpse of you this morning though it’s been all he could think about. The. Whole. Fucking. Day. He watched out of the corner of his eye while you bent over the line to scrub down the wall behind your station tonight. Burning to memory the way your ass just slightly jiggled from the aggressive motion of wiping down the surface. A soft grunt coming from you as you reach for something just a little too high. He finally snapped out of it when the smell of the chemicals he sprayed down on his own surface got a little too strong and refocused.
He wasn’t proud when he ran to the restroom and contemplated just jacking off over the toilet to get some relief. You were clouding his brain, only the rush of the evening giving him some small relief.
You seemed vocal in the small clip he saw. He’s wondering if you would have asked him to cum for you. Would you think it’s a waste that he’s cumming down the drain instead of covering your ass with it? Filling your mouth and making you swallow every drop around him? Or, Jesus Christ, would you wrap your legs around his waist and beg him not to pull out?
So yeah. Carmy’s had quite the fucking day to say the least.
He’s finally home and running straight to bed. His stuff dropped in a heap by the front door and was easily forgotten. Throwing himself back onto the mattress after ripping off his shirt and his pants. Left just groaning into the empty room, his cock twitching at the thought of you. Your page has been sitting on an Incognito tab all day and it’s finally, finally being loaded up. This feels like an invasion of privacy in a way but Carmen can’t quite think logically with how heavy his balls feel and how painfully hard he is. There’s not much time to spare so he clicks the first video you’ve uploaded that he can.
And there you are.
Sitting in the middle of a big bed and rubbing your hands along your thighs, smiling at the camera. His heart is twitching, cock is twitching, everything is fucking twitching. And you’re just sitting there, licking your lips and sliding your hands under the thin material of some weird lace one piece he wants to rip off.
“Hi there, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is music to his ears and Carmy can’t take it any longer. His fist is wrapping around his cock, a broken moan filling the room as he finally gets some relief. “I’ve been waiting for you to come home all day.”
Sue him, but he’s skipping ahead a little. There’s not much time until he cums and he needs to see you. All of you. He’s gripping his phone with one hand, bringing the other that’s around his cock up to his mouth to spit in. His thumb is haphazardly trying to keep the phone balanced while scrubbing through the video until he thinks he’s at a good spot. You’re laid back now, thighs spread for the camera and pussy on display. Carmen’s muttering to himself about how gorgeous you are, longing to tell you in person. You’re holding this royal blue dildo in your hands that’s suddenly his biggest enemy. He deserves to be there, not this stupid, useless chuck of silicone. There’s a whimper from the speaker as you take the toy and slide it along yourself, tapping it twice against your clit. “Fuck, I need you.”
Fuckin’ hell does he needs you too.
His fist is clamped around his dick once again, fucking his hips up into the the slick, tight grip. You’re still teasing yourself by sticking just the head of the dildo in before gasping and pulling it back out. “Please, Baby. I need you so bad, need to come for you.” His brain is breaking. An animalistic urge taking over to fuck you until you can’t move, can’t think, just a blubbering mess begging him for more. Without warning you push the dildo all the way in, throwing your head back with a pleasured scream.
Carmy gasps, hips sputtering and losing their rhythm as he watches you fuck yourself. He’s stroking himself at the same pace you’re moving the dildo, imaging it’s you he’s fucking into. Picturing you laid under him, your breasts covered in hickies because he hates the idea of these… Perverts watching you get off. He wants to mark you, claim you as his. His balls are tightening and he can’t think of the last time he came this quick. It’s almost embarrassing - What are you doing to him?
Your free hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth, lewdly sucking them for the camera. The sucking noise now accompanying the wet, addictive sounds of your pussy being fucked. Carmen whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, and twists his wrist over his cock to get a little more friction. Your voice hits him once again as you slide your wet fingers out of your mouth and down your throat. “Oh fuck I’m so close. So, so close. Are you close, Baby? Want you to come with me.” You’re lightly choking yourself, a whining mess.
Carmy’s aware he’s talking to an empty room but he can’t stop himself. “Fuck, oh fuck. Gonna come for you.” And his stomach coils, hips sputter, the phone falling to the bed as he has to let go of it as his orgasm washes over him. He’s slack jaw, warm cum landing on his chest and the sounds of you finishing at the same time ringing out from his phone.
Oh he’s so fucked.
————–——★–————
Carmy slept well for once in his life. His orgasm lulling his body to sleep, dreams filled of you. How beautiful you look sucking his cock. The way you must sound while he eats you out. And he takes his time in his dream. Tongue dragging between your folds as his rough hands hold your hips in place. You’re powerless, made to lay back and let him eat you out for his own pleasure. Tongue circling around your clit but he waits until you’re close to tears to stop teasing. He’d praise you. “Look how fucking wet you are, Princess. You’re already getting the bed wet, aren’t you? Gonna have to lick you for hours to get you all cleaned up. Can you say please, huh? Ask me to suck on your clit, Baby. You know you need it.”
He woke up hard and overstimulated, rolling over onto his stomach and pathetically dragging his hips against the warm bed to get some much needed friction along his cock. Carmy’s telling himself how pathetic this is and forcing himself to push off the bed and get into the shower before he’s late.
Yes, he jacked off in the shower before work.
He had to.
Carmy can’t decide if it’s heaven or hell when he walks in to see you standing in the kitchen.
You’re on your tiptoes, balancing haphazardly as you’re reaching up to change the light. There’s a wobbly step stool under you. Everyone keeps saying it needs to be replaced but it continues to live on. Your face is scrunching up in concentration. Carmy’s chuckling at the sight and ignoring the way he feels his balls tug at the sight of you. “What’re you doing there, Chef?”
You huff in annoyance, finally untwisting the light cover from the ceiling. “Damn light went out right as I started veggie prep. Hate to be a bother but will you come spot me while I’m up on this thing? I’ve seen Fak bust his ass one too many times to trust it.”
Carmy can’t verbally respond at first, instead stalking over to stand next to you. His hand comes up to cup the back of your knee and he’s lying to himself saying it’s for your own safety. To keep you balanced. “Yea well something tells me you’re less clumsy than Fak. I’ve seen that guy fall over while just standing still.”
And you laugh.
You laugh. At him. At his joke. He, Carmen Berzatto, made you laugh. The sound filling his ears and now his damn heart and balls are both reacting to you and what the hell is he supposed to do with all these emotions.
“Don’t distract me up here, Chef.” He doesn’t mind taking commands from you. Silently reaching up to hold the light fixture you’re passing him as you change gears to switch out the lightbulbs now.
And maybe his eyes are wandering around the kitchen to see who else might catch a glimpse of you two together. Everyone who’s in so far is honed in on their prep task and Carmy thanks God that Richie hasn’t shown up yet today.
He’s become quite faithful since he started falling for you it seems.
It happens, by chance, that you feel a little unsteady and Carmen tightens his grip on the back of your leg. Fingers digging into your soft skin. He’s looking down at the stool to make sure it’s level before looking up to take in the sight that is his hand around your leg.
And he stops looking there.
Okay fine that’s a fucking lie - he’s looking up. Eyes trailing up your thighs, following along the curve of your ass. When you have to lean forward just slightly to twist in the light cover he’s convinced he can see the outline of your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. He’s contemplating his options - If he could, would he lean in and lick over the outline? His warm mouth teasing you through your leggings. Through your underwear. Are you wearing underwear? He’s torn between picturing you with or without them.
Or would he slide his hand up your leg, palming your thigh as he goes. Cupping over you and dragging his middle finger across the shape of you. Memorizing the feeling. Would you whine? Grind down against his hand? He doesn’t think you’d shoo his touch away.
God he just knows you’re a needy little thing.
He wonders what it would feel like for you to lick your own wetness from his jaw after he’s decided he’s done savoring you. To taste you on your own tongue when he kissed you after. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping down your lips too. All fucked out and exhausted and full of bliss.
“Okay, I think I got it fixed, Carmy.” God, he’s so fucked for thinking of you like this as you’re innocently changing the light. Just trying to improve the kitchen and he’s thinking about ruining you. He was so caught up in daydreaming that he didn’t even feel you take the light cover back out of his hand and screw it into place again.
You’re beaming down at him, using his shoulders as arm rests as you bounce down from the stepping stool. His hand grazes your ass - A total accident. He swears it. You reach behind him to sit the screwdriver down, your chest firmly against his. Nothing thinking anything of the personal space violation as you’re used to it from so many slammed nights in the kitchen.
“Thank you for helping me. Sorry it was basically just five minutes of my ass in your face.” Carmy chokes.
His cheeks are hot.
Fuck is he blushing?
He’s sputtering out of his words. “It uh, it wasn’t in my face. Not that I looked, y’know. Just uh… Just - just trying to say that I’m happy to help.” He sounds like an idiot
You’re cocking an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Holy shit, Carmy.” You pat your hands against his chest, not knowing your touch was like fire on his skin. He grabs the screwdriver and makes a beeline to the office to put it away for you.
Sure he grabbed a rag on the way. No it’s not for him to jack off into while he thinks of you.
Okay fine, it is.
“Fuck me.” The only thing Carmy can risk trying to say as the door shuts heavy behind him and his pants hit the ground.
———————–★–———
Carmen doesn’t avoid you now but he certainly makes it hard to get close to you. He’s too distracted when you’re around. Maybe there’s a bit of guilt mixed in too at his new night routine. Leave the restaurant, load your page, and wait to see what happens. New videos? New pictures? You were wormed into the back of his brain and it had to stop.
So your station got moved further down rotation. You’re at the end of the line on the left, he’s at the start on the right. It helps clear his mind, lets him hone in on perfecting what goes to the floor.
He’s able to move quickly, shifts blowing by as the restaurant’s rush takes all his attention. The clock clicks down two minutes till close, everyone working in silence to get the place flipped and go home. He’s wrapping up with Syd, helping her make a few adjustments to expo before grabbing a dead plate off of the end of the line and heading to the office with his food and a cup of water in hand. He needs a mental minute, a bite of food, and to let his thoughts all catch up.
The door’s already cracked and he’s halfway through the entry way when he registers you. Sitting there. At his desk. Your legs are crossed, a cool damp towel resting over your eyes. He wants to turn on his heel and retreat but decides that he can’t treat you any differently just because he’s developed some silly little crush. Running away would be treating you different.
“You good, Chef?”
To which you groan. Different from the ones he’s used to - This one is guttural, pained. You press your hands flat against the rag and will the cool temperature to help the pressure in your head. “Killer migraine, that’s all. Shit was moving so fast tonight and I wacked the back of my head on something in the walk in. Sorry for being in here, Carm. Just uh, needed a second.” You should push up out of the chair, show your respect. But right now you’re half convinced that standing up would be detrimental so for now you’re cemented to the seat.
“Heard.” Carmen nods to himself, sitting down the plate before opening up the desk drawer as quietly as possible. Your knee is pressing into the side of his thigh, grounding and warm. He fishes out a bottle of medicine, shaking out two pills. “Hold out your hand.”
You take a second to brace yourself for movement, sitting up and moving the towel off your eyes. Letting it pile up into a clump on the desk besides you. There’s no way around it - You look pitiful. Pouting up at Carmen as he hands over two pills and his cup out water. You take the pills diligently, taking a few gulps and letting your eyes fall back closed as you will them to kick in instantly. “Can I ask a favor?”
“Anything, Chef.”
Slowly, so not to shake yourself up, you turn the chair until your back is to Carmen. “Will you see if I gotta bump back there? Kinda terrified I gave myself a concussion but I don’t wanna believe it was that hard.”
He snickering, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as he steps closer. “Well you’d absolutely fuck me if you needed to file workmen’s comp so I’m gonna need you to be fine, ‘kay? Way too much fuckin’ paperwork to do on a Friday night.” You start to laugh but it’s quickly cut off into a small groan of appreciation as you feel warm, rough hands clasp either side of your shoulders.
Carmen works his way up your neck and catches himself holding his breath as his fingers brush along your scalp. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, all under the pretense of taking care of his employee. That’s all. “Think we’re both in the clear. You feeling alright besides the headache? Need me to hold up some fingers for ya to guess? Haven’t managed to cut any off so we’ve got all ten to work with.” He’s got you laughing again while rough fingers work their way back down to your neck. The feeling of the vibration of your laughter against his hands sending chills down his back.
Wordlessly Carmen gets to work rubbing your shoulders. Tender, deep. Years of practice rolling out dough and desserts and tenderizing meat coming into play as he continues to knead away at your tense body. You let out an appreciative moan and Carmen has to start thinking of something to keep his inevitable hard on from being obvious.
When his hands come up closer to your neck once again he’s hit with flashbacks of the first video he watched. You choking yourself — Is that something you truly liked? If his hand came around to cup your throat, palm resting on one side with his fingertips firmly against the other, and lightly squeezed would you moan? Rub your thighs together in search of some hint of relief?
“Are you always this good with your hands, Chef? Hmm? Can’t imagine you giving Marcus this treatment.” You’re laughing and can practically hear the smirk in Carmen’s voice as he responds. “Yeah - You uh, didn’t know that? I just love you know, rubbing shoulders. It’s my thing. Kick your ass all night and then rub the stress out.”
He’s blanching a little at his reply. Kinda obvious but okay then, Carmen. You reach up, putting your hands atop his with a little smile. “Well thank you for… Rubbing my stress out, Chef.”
Carmen’s red. Head to toe just bright red. “Of course, Chef. Anytime.” He’s entertaining to say the least as you pat his hands before spinning around in his chair. You snag another drink of water, throwing him a wink before moving to exit the office. Your hand runs along his chest, an appreciative gesture, as you head back to the floor.
——————————★–
Late Saturday night Carmen’s so exhausted that he barely has the energy to take his work clothes off. Falling haphazardly onto his old couch, kicking his work boots off one at a time. His eyes are heavy, body aching, and he almost falls asleep before he gets to see you.
But he’s fishing his phone from his pocket, refreshing the all too familiar landing page to see you’re actively live. How you have the energy is beyond him.
You’re standing there trying on clothes that someone must send in and Carmy feels a pang of jealousy. He’s watching through half hooded eyes as you slip in a pair of shorts, turning your behind towards the camera and pulling them up just slightly to put more of your ass on display. You’re chatting away about the material while slowly pulling them down to reveal just this frilly little pair of panties that was sent in as well.
He’s propping the phone up on the armrest of the couch, laying on his side while he watches you chat away. It’s soothing. Almost like an ASMR video.
Carmen’s not sure when he fell asleep - Somewhere in-between you trying on a third outfit and attempting to clean up your bed from all the packaging. He finds you soothing, comforting. He makes a mental note to hunt out some sort of wish list you must have for these items before passing out and, once again, dreaming of you.
#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto smut#so many versions of his name#🤍: the bear#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#♡: carmen berzatto#the bear x reader#the bear smut#the bear#carmy x reader#carmy x you#carmy smut#carmen x reader#carmy berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x you
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broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg
title: broken (pt. 2) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: the championship game lights up... and everything goes down. note: not too much to say other than thank you. this part is definitely another very, very close one to my heart. please buckle up and enjoy the ride. warnings: [spice warnings under the cut] language, angst, tension, alcohol mention & consumption, fights, basketball!yoongi🧍♀️, cocky!yoongi, jimin😳, tense situations, did i say angst?, long hair yoongi, crying, bro😀, reader is a real one i don’t make the rules, arguments, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, saying softhours puts some of this lightly, bro🥲, blood/wound mentions, hurt/comfort, there’s just a lot in here y’all idek, taehyung being the best ever, …angst. drop date: february 9th, 2024, 10:37pm est word count: 17.7k my god
smut warnings: cursing, choking, light slapping, breast play, angry s*x a ha ha, crying, multiple explicit scenes y'all istg don't perceive me lol, c*nt slapping, penetrative s*x, brat!reader, protected s*x, edging, consent king ofc :), rough s*x, b*cksh*ts and a lot of them, ...unprotected s*x (yeah it's here and y'all better be responsible or so help me!!!), f*ngering, or*l (m/f rec), brat tamer!3tan yoongi!!!, reader loses themselves for a sec, but yoongi is a king, pain k*nk whewwww, kissing, so much kissing lmfao, c*m play, slight bond*ge (yoongi hands), spanking, aftercare ofc :'))
-
-
There’s no way.
How the fuck is he here? When did that horrible excuse of a guy even join a team? Had he been playing intramurals this whole time?
“No fuckin’ way.”
Your eyes find your brother standing rigid at your side, wrists tensed to hell and shoulders spiked. Did he not know he was playing, either? Judging by his smoldering question, you’re going to guess he wasn’t aware.
“Were they always on this team?”
“No.”
“I don’t remember them being on any teams.”
They? Them? So they recognize more from the court on that day you try to not think about. Shifting your vision, you start gauge reactions under sounds of the growing crowd.
It’s Yoongi that looks at you first, eyes lowering to the hand you still have on your arm damn it you should be okay about that night already. But you can’t seem to let your limb go, your fingers covering it in a weak attempt at protection and resilience.
The blaze in his eyes makes you shake. Even as you swallow your pleas for everyone to just go home, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he walks over to stand in front of your knees, motioning for you to scoot over one so he can take the end seat.
Normally, you would slightly question why he wouldn’t just sit next to you. But this time, you’re hyper aware of what he’s doing—and why. It’s so obvious that you wanna reach out and grip his sweaty hand.
Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.
And your heart burns and burns.
If only he could do more, be more, show more. Because with a rattled ego and tainted mind, you’re already yearning for his touch, wanting him to whisk you out of here and bring you back to the comfort of his home—just like he did that night.
God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing.
“What’s the plan,” he asks, eyes on the court and palms between his knees.
“Dunno yet.” Your brother shakes his head before looking back, eyes narrowing at the laughs on the other bench. “But I might get my ass thrown out if we—”
“Play.”
Immediately, all three of them snap their heads your way. Fuck, your arm is still…
One person cannot have this hold on you. There’s no way you’re going to let him control your every waking moment, and your determination bubbles into your commands. “Play the game and beat his ass,” you seethe, holding yourself together and aiming daggers everywhere. “Just make it quick.”
Yoongi gives you a look before Jimin snags him with an eyebrow raise.
“And you’re paying me double.”
Looking at the man beside you, it’s almost comforting seeing his attention fully on your face. If it weren’t for your ghost on the other side of the scoring table and your brother standing there, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him.
But you only nod, getting a huff and a lopsided curve in response before you watch him lock eyes with your brother, “What do you wanna do?”
After a long, resigned sigh, your sibling finally relents, “Fuck this shit up.”
Good. Yes. This is what you want—for you and them. “Exactly.”
Scanning around the tight circle, you notice that you have everyone’s attention.
But one person seems to send a question without any words at all. In kind, you answer the same way, wings battering your stomach when all of them send thunder to the court with lightning in their eyes.
Yoongi scoffs through a slant, carrying the air of someone you never want to mess with in your fucking life. “The fuckin’ nerve.”
Jimin hums, sliding a finger along his flexed to hell jaw. “Bold,” he adds. And his voice drop sends shivers when he turns to you,
“Don’t worry, love.”
You stare.
“This will be over soon.”
-
-
The game is… just a game. For now.
No one’s taunted hard other than a few smirks and winks, and right now it seems as if both teams are just being competitive more than antagonistic. Which relaxes you to the point where you’re cheering from the bench with the other players—and their coach that arrived late—jumping and yelling and clapping when things go in their favor.
Your brother’s slamming down dunks. Jimin’s been playing amazing defense with his quick reflexes and high stamina.
And Yoongi? Has gotten sickeningly sharp. All those late nights at the rec center are paying off in this championship and, when he scores a hard shot, the pride you feel launches you to your feet.
“Nice job, b—” Oh fuck you almost shout something that should never be public knowledge. Holding your tongue, you quickly switch it up with a hasty, “Let’s go!”
That was close. Way too close.
Get it together.
But you cannot help it right now. Seeing Yoongi facing off against the man you both wanna square up against? And making it look easy? The fluttering you feel in your belly grows double. Triple. Tenfold. His gestures, the way he acts like it’s nothing, his shrugs at their failed attempts to stop him—everything’s making you scratch proverbial walls and kick bench chairs.
And it’s not just him—the whole team has been playing excellently. Each play seems intentional; every pass and movement is strategic. If you didn’t know this was a casual rec game, you would think they’re gunning for a real, prestigious trophy.
However.
When it’s starting to be very clear who the better squad is, that’s when things start getting more than tense.
On a foul call, both sides start getting in each others’ faces. And you peg that as normal until someone on your team gets shoved and your brother immediately gets between the action.
Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats.
Shit, shit, shit. If there’s one thing your older sibling’s gonna do in this game, it’ll be finding any excuse to deck that man in the face. And once that happens, there’s no telling how many injuries are gonna walk off polished floors.
Thankfully, everyone separates without a ruckus, and timeout is called on your side. The crowd starts to yell in favor of either team, and that’s when you notice that Taehyung has been joined by Shiv and your friends. From the looks of things, all five of them are laser focused on you.
You hold a quick thumbs-up before you’re covered by hot and sweaty men huddling around the bench. And you immediately agree with their coach when he barks,
“I need you all to calm down.”
“No can do, coach.”
“Not if they aren’t.”
Shit. All of them look fucking livid, not giving any shits whatsoever if they’re willing to talk back to their leader. What’s really been happening on the court? Has it been even more tense than you perceived?
Oblivious to the context behind this matchup, their coach keeps yelling, “Look, I don’t give a shit if you have something to settle. Play the game and leave it on the floor. Understood?” When there’s charged silence, he yells it even louder.
And a smattering of agreement comes out before all of you hear an even bigger yelling session booming from the other bench. When you look over, it’s quickly noticeable that they’re getting reamed over there, too.
Jimin watches before speaking, and it seems like your coach’s pleas fell on deaf ears, “Fifteen went for my legs.”
“Saw that. Let’s switch cus he can’t guard me.”
“K.” Park swivels his head to address someone else. “You good to keep playing?”
Your brother responds with a nod, wiping his never-ending sweat. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Huh. Even though you know he’s mad, the man seems… Calm. Eerily calm. It’s reminding you of the way he acted after you came home from Yoongi’s.
And you don’t like it one bit.
But the timeout is over, and both teams eye each other on their walk back onto the court. As it continues, the gym erupts into life again, with a bit of back and forth shots racking the scoreboard up.
And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring.
Which lands him in a bit of trouble when the same idiot from Dalo pushes him during a layup. After he manages to make the shot, Yoongi immediately flicks him off—which gets a whistle blown. Which also means he has to sit on the bench for a second because his coach is pissed.
Ignoring the scathing remarks being thrown, he dumps himself next to you. And you immediately feel the heat roll off of him in waves, trying hard to focus on the game. “Don’t be stupid,” you jut out.
“What?”
“Don’t be stupid. These guys aren’t worth it.”
“After what he did to you?”
The way those words leave his mouth ice you over, flares spiraling through every fiber of your being. Your reaction is so visceral that you can barely get your response out, “Yeah, but…”
Leaning on his knees, Yoongi wipes his forehead with a crinkled to hell jersey, excess sweat pinging onto his sneakers. The crowd is loud and the buzzers even louder, but they aren’t enough to drown out his bite,
“I can’t let that shit go.”
“Yoongi.”
“Sorry, doll.”
“Please just—”
Yoongi leaves the bench before you can finish, and you whip your head in a rush, hands jutting out in a desperate attempt to hold him back.
Only for him to be just out of reach.
-
-
After halftime, it’s a whole different game.
From an outside perspective, it’s as if everyone was using the first half to sniff each other out, circling around each other before deciding how and when to go in for the kill.
And Yoongi isn’t the only one that you’re starting to worry about. Jimin, your brother, and even Rohan and the other guys are on edge, playing hard and doing everything they can to keep their scoring lead.
Both you and their coach know you can’t stop whatever’s going on out there. And you’re starting to feel yourself getting angry at how your brother and them are egging the guys on.
Why are they taunting? What the hell is making them so bent on making the other team pissed? Yes, all that went down with you, but nothing else had happened since then. And they clearly aren’t listening to anyone telling them to calm down.
If they end up starting shit you are going to—the fuck!
Yoongi gets straight shoved again as he goes for a layup, and you shoot up in your chair as he hits the back wall with a thud. While the players at your side are yelling and everyone on the court starts grouping in shouts, you stay rigid, solely watching Yoongi eye his attacker—the same idiot from Dalo.
Fuck everything, you wanna rush into the fray and throw hands yourself because that looked painful.
The only thing that’s stopping you is the chilling fact that Yoongi is… Grinning.
Wiping his curved lips, he waits while the refs break up the squabble, still looking triumphant as he walks to the line to shoot his free throws. When both of them are made, he stares directly at your assaulter—as you finally call it like it is—and doesn’t stop even when the coward looks away.
A whistle blows, and the game continues to be close. Too close, too close, too close. A couple more timeouts let you see just how laser-focused everyone is, and you’re a little shaken when it feels like they forgot you were even occupying their bench.
What the hell is being said on the court? Even Jimin is brimming with anger.
But after a few back and forths, Yoongi passes to your brother for a hard dunk, basket ringing from his throwdown and shaking when he lands.
Thank god. Those points are enough. They’re gonna win.
All the pent up anxiety you’ve harbored all game releases as everyone starts cheering, and your pride soars as your boys stare down their opponents while the clock winds down.
It’s over. The game is over, nothing too serious happened, and you can all go the fuck home to eat dinner and celebrate.
Your eyes catch Yoongi throwing a rudely lopsided curve across the court. Even when Jimin comes up to push him back in excitement, his expression doesn’t change.
And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive.
Then, as it goes, your brother comes up and they all share quick daps, eyes ablaze and not letting the losers out of their sight.
Well. All of them are infamous for a reason. You would guess their energy altogether certainly contributes to that. Because the aura you feel oozing from them fills the gymnasium all the way up to your knees.
And the sigh you let out mingles with their coach’s shake of his head.
-
-
Things are still tense as they all shake hands—or at least offer hands to shake—with the other team. The atmosphere is even a little iced when they receive their trophy.
But the way you’re currently being surrounded as your guys converse hides you from plain sight, so you feel heavily protected. Even Jimin, who’s usually cheerful even when exhausted, wields sharp eyes as he keeps glancing over his shoulder.
Honestly? You wouldn’t know what to do without them. Both your brother and all his friends, good pasts or not, are great people. They didn’t need to shield you like this. But they’re doing it anyway, because they won’t give that lowlife another reason or chance to approach you.
Yeah. Your older sibling knows how to choose his circle.
It’s making you wonder if…
Nah.
That’s still too big a reach.
When it seems like all of them and their cheering squad are gone, everyone starts making their way over to the bleachers—and you’re acutely reminded of what went down under similar looking ones the other night.
Your shivers are overshadowed by Yuri’s telltale screams to Rohan, “You were so good, baby! Are you okay?”
Reia and Dom shake their heads before focusing on you, the latter being the spokeswoman, “So what was all that for?”
“Don’t ask,” you sigh, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “I’m just glad they won and that we can go home.”
“You’re not coming to Yuri’s?” Reia asks. “I thought we planned on that, no?”
Ah, shit. Earlier this week, you did make plans with them without really thinking about what day they were gonna fall on. But now you’re so mentally drained that you kinda just wanna go—
“Is anyone else starving? I’m hungry as fuck!”
Right. Food. Adrenaline made you forget you were starving. Glancing towards your brother, you quickly remind him, “Yeah, me. And you’re paying.”
“Ah, shit, that’s right.” As he lets out a hard groan and deals with Jimin and Yoongi’s comments, your sibling relents, “Alright, where are we going.”
“Up to you,” you shrug, stealing a little look at the man you want to kiss like hell for his performance tonight.
God, Yoongi’s so handsome. As Jimin leaves his side, he silently wipes his forehead of any excess sweat, hands and shoulders shining in the lights wait wait wait. Hold on.
Walking over, you toss any care about who notices you out the window. And as he eyes your approach, you murmur with care and concern, “Is your back okay?”
Blinking once, twice, the man nods. “Yeah, it’s all good.”
“You sure? That looked…”
Of course he decides that now is the perfect time to rake his sweaty locks back. Speaking so low that only you can hear, Yoongi reassures with a fist full of hair, “I’m fine, doll.”
Motherfucker.
Pinning down your urge to reach out and smother him, you only breathe relief. And before you move away to put some distance between, you whisper, “Thank you.”
Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?”
Swallowing what’s left of your anxiety, you sigh. “For not getting into it out there. I was about to get mad as hell, but.. Looks like they were all talk.”
“Mm.”
Honestly? It’s a miracle. The game’s over without any hitches or brawls? More relief starts blossoming in your chest, prompting a smile to grace your features. “You looked so good out there, by the way. I almost called you ba—”
“What are y’all talking about over there!”
Your mouth snaps shut as soon as you see your brother watching, but Yoongi is quick to fire off an insult, “The way you always take so long to pick something.”
“I picked already!”
“Then let’s go then.”
Laughing, you join the whole crew as you’re all the last ones to walk out. Your friends and Shiv parked in another lot since one side was already full, so you tell them you’ll meet at the restaurant.
Some other teammates decide to join, with jerseys being shucked off as everyone heads out the door. Immediately, body odor swoops into your nose, making you welcome the crisp, fresh air of night.
Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain.
Conversations cease, which only leaves the sound confirming your observation: booming, rolling thunder. Stopping at the edge of the gym’s awning, multiple heads turn up at the rumbles, watching lightning crack the sky.
In front of you, Jimin shifts his head to the side. “Still?”
And when you look at who he’s asking, you see Yoongi nod.
Weird.
But it’s not raining just yet, so all of you make your way into the lot and to your cars. As you do, you check your phone while making your way over, aiming a question at Tae, “You know where we’re going?”
“Yeah, it’s not far,” he responds, fishing out his own device. “I think we’ve been there before.”
We? Looks like things are progressing nicely over there. Since you’re lingering behind the guys, you start to take a small jab, “We, huh? Cute.”
Lips spread as tight as his eyes, Taehyung parries. “Cute? Look who’s talking, miss whipped.”
“You’re whipped.”
“No, you.”
“No, you,” you giggle out, reaching out to tickle Tae’s side and laughing as he flinches away. You chase him for a few seconds before you see his whole body freeze completely, asking a small question before going quiet.
And when you slowly follow his line of vision, your heart freefalls to your gut, smashing it so hard you feel bile sting the back of your throat.
The man from Dalo. And all the guys from the court plus some.
Surround both Jimin’s and your brother’s cars.
Fuck. Oh, fuck, there’s so many of them, standing and waiting and unflinching in the bursts of thunder inching closer and closer what the fuck are you gonna do—
“Taehyung.”
Your eyes shake.
“Get her out of here. Now.”
And you’ve never screamed so loud.
Every word rips out of your mouth before you’re promptly shushed by large fingers, icicles pinging around your heart and holding it down, “Don’t fucking do thi—!”
To your horror, Tae’s already hauling you back, voice low and firm in your ear, “Come on.”
“No! What the fuck—”
“We’re leaving.”
“Please—!”
There are so many of them. So, so many of them. Panic drowns out your words and excess leaks out of your eyes, your own storm preventing you from seeing that your best friend is just as torn apart.
“Babe, we have to go now.”
“No, let me go!”
They’re outnumbered. What if they have weapons? What if the police are called? What if something happens that you aren’t prepared for?
You’re screaming. Curses, their names, or whatever whatever you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying because your toes are kissing the edge of madness.
Dragged a good distance away, your yells devolve into incoherency, your nose and eye sockets smashing into Taehyung’s solid forearm so hard it hurts.
Make it out, make it out, make it out. For the love of everything in the fucking universe and beyond it, make it out alive.
Some movements and backs straightening are the last things you see before getting pulled around the corner.
And when Yoongi calmly rolls one of his shoulders, you feel a wick of your soul burn out.
Panic. Worry. Panic and more panic. The car ride that Tae paid for is the blurriest muddy water you’ve ever waded through.
Truthfully, you don’t even remember blankets being pulled over your shoulder. Where even are you? Oh, you’re in a bed. Whose bed are you in because this isn’t yours. But what does it matter anyway what does anything matter anyway nothing matters there’s nothing you can do you gotta get up and go back over there get up get up go—
As soon as you yank his bedroom door open, Taehyung is there, holding you back and pushing your frantic energy back inside. “Tae, if you don’t let me—”
“Do what!”
“I’m going back!” Wrestling out of his strong hold, you bolt down his hallway, head clanging as your shoulder bumps into a wall. “We need to go back—”
“Stop!” You hear running as you burst through the living room, whizzing past the glowing television. “We have to stay here—”
No no no. There’s no way you’re staying here when you need to be back at that lot. Who the fuck would call for help if anyone needs it? When they’re gonna need it? Your vision proves so blurry you can’t even find your shoes—
Arms wrap around your waist and you fight back with a scream, “Let me go!”
“Stop and just think for a second—”
“Why aren’t you with me on this, they’re—”
“Dumb as fuck!”
Your friend’s quick comment is so sharp it cuts your breath. As you still in his firm but comforting hold, you finally stop to breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe as you’re turned to level a look with his eyes.
Eyes that are red-rimmed and so, so raw. “They’re idiots,” Taehyung grits out. “But they will be alright.”
From the shake of his voice, you find that neither of you think that for sure.
“I need to.. To…” Your breaths are ragged, energy spent and head dizzy from your quick exit from his bed. As you come down from your volcanic high, every weight the world places on your back proves too much.
“You need to relax,” Tae advises, guiding you further back inside. And you don’t speak as he leads you past the couch, past the pictures on his hallway wall, and into the dark of his bedroom.
Maybe it’s over. Right? Maybe someone will answer if you ring them up. “Call. I need to call…”
“Shh,” he soothes again, walking you backwards away from his door. When the bends of your knees hit his bed, Taehyung lets you down slowly until you’re sitting. “I’ll do it.”
Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod.
Your friend steps away to fiddle with his phone, the light illuminating his beautiful features in the night. When he holds it to his ear, this is when you hear rain and the television in the living room, noticing that it’s playing a movie he watches for comfort.
Shit. He’s going through it just like you are, and yet he’s still finding energy to calm your nerves? What have you even done to deserve him?
Guess you know how to choose your circle, too.
Going unanswered, Taehyung lowers his hand, thumb rubbing the homescreen before gripping the device hard.
Both of you are in the same boat. So steer when he can’t do it anymore. Soft but assertive, you rise to your feet, offering your embrace while calling his name, “..Tae.”
When he turns, the man wastes no time in dropping his phone to bring you in close. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you hear his words on your head but feel the trembles in his chest. “Okay?”
Feeble fingers grab at his soft shirt, and you bury into his scent while soaked and tired eyes shut.
You want to believe him. You do. You do.
But hope may be a bitch.
So you don’t.
-
-
Forever passes while you both lie still in his bed, with Taehyung holding you close and keeping you subdued with notes of honey and wood. You both try to have conversation, but it’s disjointed and manufactured, so giving up is a group effort.
You’re about to give up on a lot of things before you both jolt at Tae’s phone vibrating.
The world shifts quick as you both sit up, the call immediately being accepted and a low greeting whooshing at your side, “Hey.”
With bated breath, you hear Jimin on the line. “Hey.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”
We. We, we, we, all of them thank the fucking world. As your breath is held, Taehyung’s voice is solid, “Say it.”
“My eye is pretty fucked. Yoongi’s face is cut up and he’s got some nasty bruises on his—”
You don’t even remember yanking the phone to your mouth. “Where is he.”
Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. Irked and feeling ire bubble back to the surface, you seethe, “This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?”
“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.”
Oh.
“Your brother’s here, too.”
“Ah.” That means they’re all there. They’re all heading home. “Am I on speaker.”
“Umm.. Yeah.”
As much as you’re relieved they’re all okay, stockpiled anxiety transforms into anger, your limit striking the thundering sky. “Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.”
It’s your sibling that responds first. “Hey, wait a damn minute—”
“I waited long enough!” you scream, ignoring Taehyung’s wide eyes.
You know you need to relax. But you can’t help what’s happening right now and all you feel is pain. “I know this shit isn’t new to y’all, but really? You didn’t need to do this.”
“He was gonna—”
“All you had to do was play the game! Why’d you have to make them mad? Do you even know what could’ve happened back there?” Damn it, you weren’t supposed to cry during this part, not when you just want them to know they fucked up.
And the response is dead silence. Because of course it is. But if they won’t answer you here, they’re gonna answer another, “Just tell me one thing,” you plead. “Is this gonna happen again?”
That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.”
Gulping, you give Taehyung a glossy-eyed look before staring at his lit screen again. Trying not to let your voice waver, you accept his response, “Okay… Are you okay?”
“Me? Yeah, the hits I took were weak as fuck. I’ll get home soon so if you wanna order in tonight we can.”
“Fuck that.”
“Huh?”
What an idiot. “Bro, you don’t even know how fucking mad I am,” you accuse through gritted teeth. There’s no way in hell you wanna deal with their bullshit. Ignoring your pleas and staring harm in the face? Forget it. “I’m going to Yuri’s.”
“What? Nah, come home tonight and we’ll talk.”
“I just—No.” Taehyung has to grip your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. And you’re still steel in his arms because you haven’t been this upset in ages. “I’m not talking to any of you for awhile.”
And you mean that.
“…Fine. But go asap then. I don’t want you out late on your own.”
So you gotta listen to what he wants but when it comes to what you say, it’s crickets? Goddamn, you’re furious. “…Of course you don’t.”
And you hang up before anyone can say anything else.
-
-
You open the front door to your brother leaning against the hallway wall.
Both of you eye each other, one of you with a perfectly fine face and the other that isn’t so lucky because he’s a fool.
And no words are exchanged as you trudge your frustration to the kitchen.
-
-
Ice. Bandages. Dinner. Anger propels you through it all.
Whipping up a quick but hearty meal, you let your brother patch himself up after demanding he showered. The smells of comfort food waft through your nose as things sizzle on the stove and, through the whole process, you don’t think about anything except how upset you are.
They’re all okay. But like Taehyung so abruptly put it, they’re all stupid.
As you turn off your burner, you transfer everything to a bowl, sighing so loud it seasons the top with fire. When you approach the bar, your actions speak pretty damn loud—the dish clank shoving out a question from your sibling,
“Is there something you wanna say to me?”
“There’s a bunch of shit I wanna say to you.”
“It’s about Yoongi,” he asks, the absence of hesitation making your insides squeeze. “Isn’t it.”
But luckily for you, your rage is so potent that it overruns your fear. As soon as your brother stands up and starts to repeat his question, your correction clangs through the room,
“It’s about all of you! You say you wanna be there for me but what the fuck will doing this shit do?”
Freezing, the man waits in shock as you keep going, “Yes, that guy deserves hell. I was so scared when he grabbed me at the club.” You stop to swallow. “But I had them both there and we left.”
Fuck, this is hard. Having to relive that shit is difficult but you need your brother—and all of them, for that matter—to know how hurt you feel right now. Mustering up enough bravery to get to the goddamn point, you finally squeak out,
“If I lose them? Lose you? Because of something as stupid as a fight?” Your eyes search his, and your heart cracks when you see glassy sheen amongst his bruises. “What would I do then?”
You expect silence. And silence is what you get. It’s drawn out, loud, and telling. “We know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. “And we’re sorry.”
Another moment passes between the two of you, the food you made left uneaten on the counter and the rest sitting still on the stove. But you know your sibling will eat it all tonight, whether you’re there or not.
And you step forward at the same time he holds his battered arms out.
Freshly showered, he still smells like rain and exertion. But his heart beats under your chest, he’s present, and back home—things you need to stop taking for granted.
But you’re still mad. And getting things off your chest has only made you tired, so you decide that it’s finally time to go before you circle back to other scary territory brought up tonight. “I’m leaving now,” you announce as you step away. “But just think about that.”
“I will.”
“I’m serious.”
“I will.”
Staring, you take note of his cuts and injuries, wondering how the others are faring even though you don’t wanna deal with anything else. Because it hurts too much, and if you see who you’re thinking about, there’s no telling what you’d do if you were like this with your brother. There’s no telling how you’d…
No. You choose to go the easy route this time. Everyone can simmer in their sore, swelling consequences while you have a night of de-stressing with your friends.
So you leave to go pack without another word.
It’s raining.
Hard.
And even though your car is heading to Yuri’s, your heart is beating backwards. Tugging you somewhere else and not letting up.
With a ping of chill, you can’t shake it. Braking at a stop sign close to your destination, you sit in silence, letting the rain pelt every side of your vehicle and wondering what the hell to do.
Truthfully? Your brother looked like shit. But your body isn’t telling you to go back to the house, which can only mean one other place. And you know for a fact you don’t wanna talk to him, either.
So fucking upsetting. They did all that for what? You can barely keep your thoughts in a row because they keep yelling at jostling each other just like everybody did on the court. If anyone had to fight the dipshit, it should've been you.
Fuck! Your head connects with the wheel, an inner monster rumbling with the thunder because you’re so fed up with everything that happened.
Your brain is the one yelling. But your heart is begging for it to listen. Go to Yuri’s? Go to Yoongi’s. Find shelter in that warm bed of hers and sink in her plushies to comfort you?
A sigh. Maybe you can at least call him to tell him off one more time. He needs to hear what you told your brother because if you ever, ever lose him—
Your eyes burn.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
No answer.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
Pick up. What the fuck.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.
Curses flying, you whip your vehicle in a flash, heart pounding so loud it’s blocking out the storm. Which is morbidly impressive considering how horridly it’s pouring.
Thinking in leaps, you pivot and make another decision. Tell her and make it all quick.
Yuri: Outgoing Call
“Hello?”
“Hey, I’m not coming.”
“You okay?”
“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”
“Yoongi’s? Why?”
Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know.
Banging the steering wheel, you smash your teeth, stressed as hell from braving the rain in the dark and now snitching on yourself to someone else.
Damn it. What do you say? What can you possibly even say when you’re so mad and stressed and conflicted and worried—
“Hello?”
“Because he’s the one,” you whoosh out, your vision quivering twice as much as it should. “And things went down after the game and now something feels wrong.”
“Oh, shit. Is that why y’all didn’t come to—”
“Yes.” When you say all this out loud, now it has weight. Horrifying weight on your chest and a block pushing down on the gas. You hear a bit of shuffling on the line, and you’re starting to get so anxious that you blurt, “Please don’t say anything. Please.”
“I won’t. Not about this.”
“Thank you.”
“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”
“Okay.”
Go, go, go. Please, just get there.
Letting up, you change your speed, hoping to everything good in the world that this feeling you have is only a feeling and nothing more.
Yoongi: Outgoing Call
What a strange emotion, wanting his reason for not picking up solely being because he doesn’t wanna talk to you. That is an answer you can deal with.
But you still can’t fight off the jagged pulses telling you it’s something else.
After an agonizing drive, you finally see his complex, tensing harder the further and further away you have to park.
Whipping into a spot, you screech into it before hauling your bag out, popping the trunk and desperately grabbing a plastic box you always keep inside.
And the mad dash drenches you long before you seek cover, your bones shivering shivering shivering from the chill.
Yoongi has to be home. His car is here.
But he still won’t pick up the fucking phone.
Skidding at his door, your knocks are rapid, knuckles singed from the ice cold wraps.
Answer, answer, answer. For fuck’s sake, he better answer.
After a haunting moment of silence, you decide to call one more time, head wet and bones shivering as you press the phone to your damp ear.
Finally. “Hello.”
“Open the door,” you jump into commanding, hearing nothing other than a voice that sounds so crushed and low that it crumples you inside.
“You’re here?”
“Yeah, let me in.” Fuck, your teeth are clattering against each other, whether it’s from the rain, the cold, or anger, you can’t tell.
But the reply you get is the coldest thing imaginable. And it sets your whole body aflame.
“Not tonight.”
Hell no. Hell fucking no Yoongi is not going to get rid of you that easily. Not when you have a boatload of things to say and only one dock to dump them all on, “Yoongi, I swear to god—”
“Not tonight—”
“—you don’t let me in I’m—”
“Go home—”
“I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!”
Oh, you’re pissed. You’re so fucking pissed because this all could’ve been avoided if none of them were stupid. Or prideful. Or whatever the fuck boys decide to be when they can’t let something go.
And this man still has the audacity to give you the stiff arm, silence on the line before he rasps out another short, “I’m serious.”
“No.”
“Go home.”
“No!”
He says your name. So, so softly, before a gut-wrenching,
“Please.”
Breath shaken, you rest your forehead against chilly wood, hoping it quells the fire you feel rising from your rib cage.
You can’t give up. Not when you have so much to say. Not when you have to check on him and make sure he’s fine.
Not when you give into the strongest premonition that you need to be nowhere else but with him tonight.
You will stay. Stay, stay, stay. Even if he doesn’t want to see you.
Voice trembling in rage and concern and everything in between, you feel your eyes sear through when they close, mission boiling down to one more desperate choice,
“…No.”
You’re cold. And wet. But you will stand out here for as long as it takes him to let you inside—a night, a day, no matter what.
And for a moment. Or a few. You think he’s dead set on making you prove that.
But you finally, finally, finally hear a sigh before a lock turn, and you try to prepare yourself for what you see but he opens the door and his face comes into view holy shit he looks like a wreck—
“What the fuck,” you grit out as you rush in with vision swimming, digging into your bag for the medkit you hastily stashed and swinging off your sandals because you gotta get something in the—
A hand grips you hard, tugging you back before you even register what’s happening.
As your feet stumble back onto linoleum, your gaze snaps to the ground.
And your breath cuts like it’s your last.
Shards.
Pieces.
Thousands of wood and glass chips litter the entire open area of the living room.
And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning.
Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?
“I told you, doll.”
You choke on a sob.
“Go home.”
Your breaths return before you straighten, tears flowing freely as you don’t know whether to start cleaning up the chaos or finally facing the one who caused it.
No, no, no. Get rid of it.
Throw it out, all of it, all of it.
A new fire roars to life, forging your steeling commitment as you wrestle out of Yoongi’s hold.
What did he do, what did he do?
Revving with smoke out of your ears, you burn a path to the kitchen, grabbing a trash bag before marching into the wreckage. Up go the biggest pieces first, chucked into plastic before the smaller ones follow.
Throw it all. This one, this one, and this one.
Yoongi isn’t even wearing shoes. He can cut himself up even more if this all stays where it is.
Shit, this is everywhere.
When you realize you’re gonna need a broom, you storm back into his laundry closet to yank one out and keep going. When you go to sweep, the sharpest voice cuts through your fingers.
“Stop.”
Your grit grips the tool even tighter. Because you won’t. Don’t dare look into his expression, either, because you know that one glance will melt every scream on your tongue. So you stay resolute and shoot rejection to the ground, “No.”
“Just go, please.”
“No.”
This hurts.
This really, really hurts.
Yoongi has never, ever said these things to you and it feels like a knife jabbing into the same spot over, and over again. You almost prefer three new months of no contact over whatever the hell this is.
But you have to keep going. Eyes clenching, lips wobbling, you must keep going.
Because you came here for a reason other than this mess. And he’s gonna have to do better than this to kick you back out into the rain.
“I got it.”
“Let me do it.”
“Your brother needs you.”
“Yeah, well, I already tore the fuck into him and I’m gonna do the same to you.” You harden your fist on the sweeper, tugging it more towards your shoulder with finality. And you gather all the energy you need to leave no more room for arguments, because Yoongi is going to listen, “So sit down.”
It hurts.
He wants to say shit. You know he wants to.
But he only breathes hard with eyes closed, following your orders and carrying his dark clouds to the dining room.
When he finally leaves you alone, this is when you look his way.
In sweats and a shirt, he appears fine. But with a deep pang, you notice he’s slightly limping. Judging from those knuckles, you wonder if they’re red from the fight or from hitting another wall of his apartment.
Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.
Shit.
While he dumps himself at his table, you clean up the pieces of his rampage, mentally noting that one plan of yours has now changed.
This one. These, too. A string here. A metal piece there.
You don’t know how long it takes you. All you know is that you’re burning inside, determined to clean everything and sweep this chaotic energy away.
One more. Two more. Another one here.
As soon as you’re done, you lug the trash bag out of the front door and don’t give a shit what happens to it now.
Keep going. There’s more that you need to take care of.
The fuel inside of you rages on, anger conflicting with anxiety and past worries and sadness for something that didn’t even happen. As you spin, you vow yourself to keep pushing until you can’t anymore.
Sniffling. Shivering. But staying strong because things could’ve gone a lot worse.
Yoongi meets you by the table, messy, damp hair shielding his features. “You’ve done enough.”
“I still need to—”
“Just.” He looks away. “Go home, doll. I can’t do this tonight.”
“Do what? I’m helping you.”
That’s what you do for each other, right? You both help each other. But now you’re not so sure because Yoongi comes back with not an acknowledgement, nor a way of relenting.
But ice.
“Who said I needed it?”
And in all the time you’ve spent with this man, this is the first time you’ve felt downright cold. “Yoongi, what?” Your eyes travel across his face, chest caving in when there’s barely any hints of vitality. “Are you serious?”
“You think I’m joking?”
“You’re kicking me out? What happened to saying you’d never do that, huh?”
“I say a lot of things.”
…Oh.
That hurt. That… That physically couldn’t have hurt any harder.
Nodding, you look away, shaking your head in disbelief because you are on the verge of losing it. “You know what? You do say a lot of things.”
Walking away, you start rearranging pillows on the couch pushed askew. “Like how perfect I am.” Picking up his books from the now non-existent coffee table. “And how there’s no one else.”
As you give the volumes a new home on his intact tv stand, you turn to face him again. “Those are just words, too, huh?”
Yoongi kicks his head back with a smile, one that cuts instead of mends. “Nah… Not tonight.”
“Not tonight what.”
“We aren’t doing this tonight.”
“The fuck we aren’t.” It’s his turn to walk away, with a slow head shake that you really don’t like. “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere.” Yoongi shifts his head to the side, but not enough for you to fully see him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want you to. “But you’re going home.”
Something’s off. There’s something completely off but all you feel is sadness and rejection in your ribcage. “So this is how it happens, huh. Now I’m just like everyone else.”
He finally faces you, miles away even though you’re just rooms apart. “You’re gonna go there?”
“I am.”
“Wow.”
That’s what he comes back with? This is gutting you from the inside out and you have no idea what’s happening but now rage is flaring into your mouth, “You think I wanted to come here? After what all of you did?”
“Do you even know?”
“No! But how the fuck would I? You don’t tell me shit!”
“That’s cus—”
Your response sears over his floors, “I can take care of myself. But none of you told me about that dude from the court. None of you.” Breath shaken, you continue dumping out all your thoughts and previous concerns, “If I had known? That whole Dalo thing could’ve been avoided and I would’ve ran.”
For a person that you’ve come to know as so warm, Yoongi’s entire aura freezes you over as you keep talking. “And today? You know how fucking scared I was? If I… I…”
All he does is stare. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Is he really flipping the switch and choosing to legitimately let you leave this time?
Fine then.
“You know what?” Giving up, you laugh—harsh, and breathy, and without any joy at all. “Forget it. You’re not even listening anyway.”
“I swear to—I just said not tonight.”
Frustration from the game, fear from the ambush after, anxiety from not hearing from them. All of it coalesces into something you can’t even control anymore. Your buffer shuts off, the monster you created seizing the reins, “No, I get it. I do! You want me gone. Sure. See you in three more months.”
Stunned, Yoongi huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am. Trying to help you but it looks like you don’t even want that. So good fucking bye.”
And it looks like he has a beast of his own because his next response to your last attempt has you reeling back in shock,
“Who asked you?”
Dark liquid drips onto your soul.
You can only stare, unblinking and feeling like you’re in an entirely different universe. “Who asked me? Who asked me.”
“That’s what I said.”
Forget the question of who asked you because… Who are you even talking to? Who is this person standing in front of you because it’s not the Yoongi you know. It’s so jarring and hurtful and strange that you truly feel thrust into the middle of a nightmare.
You’re gonna do it. You’re actually gonna leave this time.
“You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.”
God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.
It hurts.
You don’t even know where this is all coming from. All you know is that you’re angry and there’s no stopping the hot magma bubbling in your center.
Silence fills the room.
And it rains. It pours.
But finally, you hold a sob back before burning a shaky path to his door, wrestling with the lock before yanking it open—
Only to have it shut back in your face, so thrown when you realize you’re getting spun. Air whooshes out of you before your shoulder blades connect with wood—
And this is the goddamn breaking point. The walls you haphazardly built to keep you upright collapse and tumble. It’s so potent and blinding that you don’t even realize your hands are connecting with his chest in the weakest, saddest ways and you are outright screaming.
“God, what the fuck! I told you to—We didn’t hear from you for hours and I—I didn’t know if you were okay—”
“Whoa, hold u—”
“I thought the worst and I—didn’t even get a chance to—I finally told you want I wanted and you—Fuck—”
“Just listen—”
“Don’t ever do that again! I don’t wanna lose you and today was so fucking scary and I’m not, fucking, leaving—”
Your lips are smashed to hell, his lips bruising so hard you feel it in the back of your skull. And it’s a whole storm as Yoongi pins you against the door, leg wedging between yours and his hands gripping you like a vice. It’s intense. It’s overwhelming.
“I swear to—”
You don’t know what to do. What to do what to do what to do, and all your madness jangles as you’re yanked and slammed against another wall, breath leaping into his open mouth before you tug at his hair, digging anger through his shoulders.
“Can’t fucking listen, can you?”
“No,” you rip from your throat, shoving him back only to gravitate right back and lock lips again.
And he rips at your clothes, tearing the front of your shirt so far your chest emerges on full display. Before you can even react to the cuts on his face, Yoongi’s hand clenches around your throat, making you gargle just how you fucking want to right now.
“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.”
“When has that ever stopped us.” You groan as you get rapidly led back into something hard, and you realize it’s the dining table digging into your ass.
“He’s still home.”
“So?”
“Shouldn’t you—”
“Then kick me out!” you taunt. “For real. Let me go. Fucking do it then.”
Yoongi works his jaw before gripping tighter, making you groan and your gut flare into something primal. Nostrils flaring, he moves to grip your head hard enough to make your stomach flip but not firm enough to scare you.
Never to scare you. “You aren’t gonna leave me alone.”
Your eyes are ice.
“Are you.”
You solely watch in determination, breath harsh from your nose and billowing out like steam. Drilling your answer into his eyes, you charge the surrounding air enough to spark like the flashing sky outside.
And Yoongi cracks like lightning.
“Goddamn it.”
Everything happens at once and in quick succession. Teeth grit to hell, Yoongi pulls you upward before fast stepping you to his bedroom, slamming you through the door before you shove him right into his desk.
Things teeter and shake and clang with each impact, your storm disrupting everything in its path and creating a tornado of desire and thoughts in your brain.
Something swirls and twists between your souls, tightening and condensing into emotions darker than midnight. And as angry as you are, it’s slipping into a dangerous mania, and you’ve never been this excited for anything in your life.
“Stubborn.”
“Coward.”
Your back stings as you’re pushed back into his door, the wood smacking into the spackle of his wall. Rough lips smother yours as you claw at his shoulders, neck, hair, and you hear him growl into your mouth,
“Want me to kiss your ass? Suck my dick then we’ll talk.”
“Fuck you. I give better head than you anyway.”
His words rival the deepest growl, “Prove it.”
“Make me.”
Whirlwind. Storm. Tempest. At this point, it’s a whole goddamn high. Your body is thrumming and the only way to feed your anger is to channel it through actions.
And truth be told, you need this. You both do. With all the high strung emotions that had nowhere to go until you collided?
This is liberation.
You’re shoved onto your knees before Yoongi dives into his pants, and you’re already hungry and impatient enough to help him shrug his sweats down before he can do it himself.
“Choke on it,” he commands, holding his dick and watching as you note how hard he already is. When you waste no time taking him in, you elicit the deepest groan you’ve ever pulled from him when you fling spit onto his length.
Maybe his reaction is to your face. Because you’re still mad as fuck and you aren’t done letting him know that.
With a passing thought, you realize that this is all new. But you’re welcoming it because it’s working. Only Yoongi can bring out this passion even in anger, or maybe the two of you were going to get to this point no matter what.
“Fuck.” He steadies the bottom of your chin while you suck him off. “Uh huh. Got anything else to say?”
You flick him off, and he hums with a rumble, his cock reacting and hitting the back of your prideful throat.
“Fuck you, too, doll.” His talks devolve into hisses, grunts, moans when you slobber all over yourself, and your cunt is already dripping with your own slick. “There you go. Gonna take it all? Or are you gonna keep running that mouth?”
And you pop off before taunting, “Find out, pussy.”
And you’re swallowing him before he shoves you all the way forward, your body arching up in a gag but filled with him him him, your nose flat against his pelvis and his dick squeezing tears from your eyes and your throat overstuffed to hell and there’s no way he’s gonna forget this moment. You’re making damn sure of it.
Another middle finger raises as you’re tensing around him, and you can barely hear him above you but you do know he’s massively pleased. Tears stream down your eyes when you’re yanked off, gasping for air and being pulled off the ground.
“Holy fuck.”
Throat hoarse, you attempt speech but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his lips steal them all. And your cunt is slapped with a whole palm, making you flinch and shoot out a whine into his kiss.
Before you know it, your body hits the bed before he joins you, arms bulging as he rips your top open completely. You can’t even think straight as he teases your earlier efforts, “I’ve had better.”
“Oh, you fucking—Shut the fuck up,” you growl, a moan leaving without permission as he palms your cunt again. Just when you think he’s gonna top you, Yoongi hauls you up, hastily leading you around the bed until your back connects with another wall.
You love that shit. And you’re starting to think Yoongi is very, very aware of this fact.
“Take those fuckin’ pants off,” he orders. “And hands on the wall before I put them there.”
“Can’t make me do shit—”
Fingers grip your chin before Yoongi gets right into your face, primal instinct making you go on full alert. As his tongue prods his cheek, your whole lower body quivers. “I can. And I will, if you don’t behave.” Tapping your jaw in a warning, he hums. “Now do what I fucking say.”
Holy shit, he’s not playing around. Which only heightens your desire to peaks previously unreached, and you’re shucking your bottoms off while he yanks his drawer open for condoms. Hurrying, you fling your clothes away before planting—
Yoongi smashes his whole front against your back—pinning your whole body against the cold, rough wall—before intertwining long fingers with yours. “Good girl.”
Hitching your hips back, he sticks your ass out as you slip, and you feel his cock tease your entrance. Groaning, you grip your hands into fists as he continues to rub your cunt but never enter. Denying, denying, denying. Smacking your pussy and still not letting you feel him inside.
And it’s maddening. “Please!”
“Please what,” he asks, giving your ass a spank that has you flinching into the wall.
And, without any shred of mercy, this goes on for longer than he’s ever held out. It’s so sickening that tears start flowing from your eyes, and you devolve into saying anything to get him to fuck your brains out. Between spanks on your ass, slaps on your tits, and aggravating kisses on your back, Yoongi doesn’t let you phase him for minutes.
It’s when you choke on a sob that he finally, finally squeezes inside of you, checking for your nod before wrecking you completely.
“Oh, fuck—” Your eyes shut tight as you try to keep yourself upright, hands pushing against the wall as your legs shift with every thrust.
“This ass. Fuck.” Yoongi’s pace is relentless, hands bruising your hips and your cheeks smacking into his pelvis over and over and over. “It’s a goddamn problem.”
You’re trying so hard. So, so hard to stay on the wall. But your hands are too sweaty; they're starting to slip with each attempt. “Bed,” you command. “Bed now.”
And he obliges immediately, pulling out and yanking you back. Mouth to your ear, he both checks in while making your legs jelly, “You tapping out?”
“Break my fucking back,” you rasp in return, hearing him growl in satisfaction before burying you facedown into his bed. As he plunges inside again, you grip at his sheets, driven to the brink and reveling in all the things he’s saying to you while feeling him in your stomach.
Suddenly, you feel your arms pulled back, and you yell into his mattress as he buries himself even deeper. Everything you’re screaming makes no sense, but the phenomenal sensation you feel as you go limp renders you speechless anyway.
Yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing as he pushes his thumb into your asshole, because you clench so hard around him that he chuckles darker than dark. Careening into space, you kiss the edge of euphoria before he inconveniently pulls out, launching a sling of insults from your mouth.
“What was that?”
“I said fuck you!”
“Thought so.”
Not done in the slightest, Yoongi hauls your thighs so flush against him that you have to use your fingertips for support. Just as you’re about to argue, he rams into you from a new and impossibly enticing angle and holy fuck it feels so good you want to weep.
“Put that fucking hand down,” he growls, smacking away the fingers you didn’t even know were on your mouth. “If you wanna talk shit.”
“Fuck—!”
“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”
You’ve never felt this out of control. This wild. This out of body. Your head is yanked back, your back pressing into the front of his shirt before you feel him so far into your guts that you quiver.
Now at the mercy of his tongue in close range, you hear his gravelly tone in your ear, “What’s my fuckin’ name.”
“Asshole—”
A hard smack to your tits has you crumpling with a whine. “Say it.”
“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—”
Another spank to your inner thigh and you’re gone. Eyes roll as he tweaks your nipple, and your words are almost garbled when he grips your chin from behind. “This what we’re doing? Hmm?”
You laugh breathy before you taunt, “Uh huh.”
“Mm…” Despite your laugh, you shake. “I wouldn’t do that, doll.”
“Make me. Bet you can’t.”
Tensed and veins angry, Yoongi grips both your tits before snarling, “That’s enough.”
Swiftly, he shoves you down into the sheets, muscular frame pinning you as he strokes up into you just right. Again. Again. It’s all too slow and too effective and you’re trying to stay mad but all you can feel is perfection, your back arching at his thrusts and mewling at his low growls in your ear.
“You wanted this.” Another thrust. “Talking shit.” Your jaw goes slack. “Pissing me off.”
Your groan is downright erotic. Why why why? Just knowing you’re making him this mad flutters your cunt and, from the sinister chuckle shooting into your neck, Yoongi definitely felt that.
“Fuckin’ thought so.”
When he reaches to grab your breasts, the last thrust has you crying out in a flurry of pleasure.
Every single thought is Yoongi, from beginning to end in a biblical cycle of debauchery. Exertion leaves you slick, sweat coating the expanse of your skin only to press into his bed, your mess your mess your mess. At his hands. The smacks of his cock. The rolls of his hips. Are you gone? Are you here? If he’s bruised then you feel like you are, too, and you welcome the temporary pain as Yoongi’s fingers dig ever deeper into your waist fuck one’s now pinning your head down.
The moans you let out are unending, and your thighs shake when all you get in response is a laugh of condescension.
“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.”
“Fuck you!” You’re close, you’re close, you’re close again. Release is at your fingertips, but Yoongi yanks himself out to rip it away from your outstretched fingers. “No!”
“What, doll.”
“Please!”
“Nah.”
Body sore, you’re flipped over with no mercy as something else presses against your cunt.
Fucking hell, he’s eating you out now? Shaking, you feel Yoongi’s tongue swirl around your thrumming clit before he sucks, edging you to the point of tears and heartbreak. And it proves too much as you grab at his head, yank at his hair, because he lets up when you’re close.
Every. Single. Time.
Your madness spirals into your curses, and he relishes in your despair, continuing to lick and suck and slap your thighs with patience. “What do you say?”
“Please!”
“Mm. Not loud enough.”
“Yoongi, please.”
“Oh, we’re saying names now?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, it aches. It’s starting to borderline hurt. “I’ll be good,” you barter, beg, plead with a head spinning off its own axis. “I’ll do anything.”
“Do it yourself then.”
Later, when you look back on tonight, you’ll be embarrassed and shy to hell. But right now, you’re so over any shyness that you don’t hesitate, reaching down to rub at your clit and moaning when it’s so sensitive.
And Yoongi gets a front row seat.
His groan is gutteral. And it doesn’t take you long to quicken your pace, bucking your hips and whining to the ceiling. You’re so so so close it’s right there—
Your hand is smacked away. And after you try to wrestle out of his grip, you are a flat out, blubbering mess. “Yoongi… Please…”
“Nah.”
This is torture. And you’re frightened at how much you’re enjoying it. “I’m so close.”
“You’ll come when I say you can.”
“Please! …Please..”
“You done being a brat?”
“No! Fuck. Yes!” If you weren’t so far gone, you may have deciphered a tiny smile of amusement. But it won’t be for months later until you’ll realize that you were wrong.
Because the menacing flash of teeth you see is much too wide to be anything other than pride. “The fuck did I say? Use your words.”
You know you’re still upset. You know Yoongi is still upset. But for some reason, you feel closer to him than you have in awhile, and you wonder if lust and madness are two sides of the same coin. “Let me come. Please.”
Yoongi finally obliges with something he hadn’t pleasured you with yet. And your vision blanks as you yelp at the sensation, his slick fingers pistoning into your folds so fast you’re arching so taut. From between your quivering legs, you hear one final command,
“Then fucking come.”
And you burst, so hard you almost feel like something threatens to spew from your cunt. But all you can do is shake and thrash under his grip, so erratic that you feel like Yoongi’s starting to pin you down. Gone, gone, gone, you’re sure the veins of your neck threaten to break through your sweaty skin.
Then you feel his cock thrust inside of you, and you whip your head forward only to get your airway cut off. “Again,” he calmly repeats, flinging you back to the last time this happened.
Only this time, there’s even less room for you to make any other choice.
“I said again.”
Your body cannot fathom disobedience, pulsing and milking his perfect fit. Over, and over, and over. You hear rumbling from a dragon above, feel breaths of steam whooshing as it watches you come undone.
“Yoongi—”
A light slap to your cheek is your only warning before your chin is tugged, lips smushing into yours to swallow your straining sobs. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your body is still thrumming, inundating around his cock until your emotions spill from your core. Toes. Fingers. Everything is straining and locking in place.
“So fucking hot.” He rips your soul right out. “Shit.”
You fly through time and space, gathering emotions and feelings and spiraling spiraling spiraling. Crying. You’re crying. Full on crying you’re so overwhelmed with everything truly you were so mean to him you upset him holy fuck you should’ve left when he told you to—
“Baby.”
But you cannot stop crying, choke choke gasping on sobs.
“Babe.”
“I—I—”
Your name stabs you with a crisp shot, coupled with a firm grip on your chin, snapping you back to lucid. And Yoongi’s eyes are frantically searching your own. “Look at me.”
You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes…
They’re not angry at all. It’s pure concern. Steadfast concentration. And something reflecting your soul. “Breathe.”
“Oh, shit,” you whisper, coughing and reaching for oxygen you didn’t know you were denying. Air rushes back into your lungs as you inhale.
“There you go. Keep going.”
You do, gulping down air and hiccuping a breath or two. Your cheek is being caressed, you think. And with another pass, you know it is.
“Relax for me.” And you hiccup a sob. “Breathe, babe.”
You do, you do, you do. Yoongi kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and you breathe more and more through it all. “You with me?”
“Always,” you answer, filter off because you are hanging by a thread and he’s holding the top. “Please don’t kick me out ever,” you hiccup. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything for you but I—could—never handle that—”
You’re tenderly hushed before lips slide over yours, attempting to swallow your thoughts and your sobs and your oncoming tears. As you flood his bed with apologies, Yoongi keeps wiping them all.
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Babe.”
“You told me so many times—”
“Breathe, angel.”
You blink at the change in name, and it makes you focus just a bit stronger. Floating down from the precipice.
“I wasn’t kicking you out,” he slowly explains, kissing sweat from your forehead. His words feel like a calm, rock-filled river over your eyes. “I felt like an idiot and hated you seeing me like this.”
“Like what?”
“Just… Like this.”
“You’re perfect like this,” you hitch out, not caring about what flows out of your mouth. “So perfect. Always to me. I just wanted to help you, baby, I’m so sorry—”
He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out.
And so do more confessions, “I… I care about you. I think a little too much. If I lost you, I wouldn’t—be able—”
“I’m here.”
“So please don’t push me away.”
“I won’t.”
“I know you don’t make promises but—”
“I promise.” Without an ounce of doubt, Yoongi places a firm, lingering kiss on your temple. “Promise. Fuck.” As he holds you tight, you feel him shake before you hear the tiniest sniff at your ear.
Oh. He doesn’t need to be like this, too. You try to move your hand up between your bodies to comfort him, but your whole limb feels gelatinous. So you simply whisper, “It’s okay, baby.”
You can’t tell how long you lie like this, with his beautiful weight on yours. But time is irrelevant when your mind is unwinding from hours of whirring, starting to finally accept the fact that everyone is okay and you don’t have to be angry anymore.
“Come on,” Yoongi rasps, voice cracked and airy. “Let’s go.”
“Hmm?”
“Shower.”
“Oh. Okay.”
You’re so thrown and dizzy from what just happened that even getting to the bathroom is a blur. What you kinda feel is Yoongi holding you upright when your legs buckle, but you don’t remember when he leaves your side to turn the water on.
As he flips on the light, your eyes squeeze until they adjust, and you watch as he tests the water while fully clothed. Air conditioning starts to give you a chill, but the shower warms up just in time because he reaches out to guide you inside.
Wait. Is he not joining you? Bleary, you grab at his shirt when he steps away, eyes pleading. “Are you coming in, too?”
Yoongi stops before he gives a shake of his head. “I’ll take mine when you’re done,” he says through a slight smile. “We’ll take care of you first.”
That doesn’t make sense. Even in your depleting haze, you know something doesn’t add up. “You can join me now. I don’t mind.” When you try to lift his shirt, Yoongi visibly flinches when you brush over his ribs.
And all the murk around your head vanishes in a snap.
He kept his shirt on that whole time. Not once did your positions allow you to see his upper body fully. And now he’s not gonna get in the shower or take his shirt off?
Your voice lowers two octaves when you reach full clarity. “Let me see.”
Unblinking, Yoongi tries to back away, “Don’t worry—”
“Let me see it, baby,” you command, breath cut until he finally allows you to lift his shirt up holy fuck those injuries look so painful tears prick your eyes. “Oh, my god, Yoongi—”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re hurt.” You feel these wounds deep in your ribs, and you tell him to get your kit what the hell he fucked you while feeling those?
Attempting to alleviate your stress, Yoongi decides to strip fully and step into the shower, ignoring your pleas to grab your med kit and promising you can take care of him when you’re done washing up.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, doll.”
“Are you sure?”
“Promise.”
And when his arms wrap around you, this is when you finally let go. Huge, chest-wracking sobs echo around tile, and Yoongi stays quiet through your cathartic release.
There’s another reason you were so upset. And it has nothing to do with any of them, but with yourself. The main reason you’ve been so riled up and frustrated is because… This is technically your fault, too.
But, unsurprisingly, he won’t let you take any blame whatsoever.
“You got hurt cus I said to play.”
“Nope.”
“I wore the outfit that day.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“And lost my friends at the club.”
“No.”
Sniffling in quick succession, you think about one other option. Some form of closure that can double as compromise. Voice soft, you suggest the last resort you have,
“How about we share it.”
Yoongi blinks twice before he clarifies, “You wanna share the blame?” When you nod, he huffs through the tiniest smile of confusion. “Mm. Then it’s our fault.”
“Okay.”
After shaking his head, he closes his eyes, molding his forehead with yours. “What are you doing to me.”
A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.”
His laughs join yours as you barely get your sentence out before giggling, and to feel him so close and present and here makes your worries slink down the drain.
Hands trace down your arms, walking along falling rivers before creating ponds with your fingers intertwined. “Gonna clear me out someday.”
“Duh.”
He’s himself again.
And after a whole night of chaos, you feel like yourself again, too.
That’s all you both need to feel peace.
-
-
You keep that tranquility carrying you through his room, peeking into his closet to grab the biggest shirt and sweats you can find before drying your head.
But no matter how much water you can dry, your body will keep being washed in relief. And it’s the calmest feeling, watching as Yoongi does the simplest things near his bed.
Your lips curve when he pulls up his pants; your heart beats when he grabs a tee. It’s in this moment that you admit that these outfits of his are your favorites, and you gravitate to him as he slips cotton over his damp head.
“Come on,” you softly offer as you turn. “I’ll make food and get you some ice.”
Again, Yoongi just stares with a faint smile. But his eyes are alive again, so you’re more than fine if he just follows your lead without a word.
In the kitchen, you pause amongst the appliances, the cabinets watching as you utilize your phone to find a good recipe. “What shall we eat… Stew? Or, wait—”
Looking up, you eye him in thought before choosing to focus on something else. “Actually, let’s figure you out first.”
Opening yet another tab to add to your hundreds, you type away before selecting a good starting point. “Okay, let’s see. You’re breathing fine, so no bruised ribs. Umm…”
Scroll, scroll.
“It looks really bad there, though. You sure you can move right?”
Despite asking, you go right back to your phone before Yoongi can even respond. Scrolling and clicking and reading again.
Scroll, scroll.
“Okay, so no bruised ribs, and according to this you don’t have any broken bones. And nothing fractured, either, thank god—”
“I love you.”
Time bursts.
Your chest glows.
Everything starts to beat, beat, beat in slow motion.
And you don’t even feel like you’re in the room anymore. “…What?”
You need to hear it again. You need to need to need to, because if you heard him wrong, you will check yourself and bolt right out the door.
His eyes.
Despite the battlefield on his skin, they are dripping, and sparkling, and full. The whole world suspends as he stares right into your soul, caressing it with his wounded hands and cradling it in his bruised arms.
No matter how hard the moon will try—for years, and years, and years more—it will never outshine this single, shaken, solidified admittance.
“I love you, doll.”
You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to fucking do.
Why is Yoongi saying this now? Why is he choosing now of all times to make you the happiest person in the universe?
No.
Happiness isn’t even close to what you feel and you’re pretty sure you’re crying but nothing makes sense and your vision plunges under sunlit waters.
“And you don’t have to say anything. I know I don’t deserve to.”
What?
“I can’t be everything you want. Or need. Or whatever the fuck I’m trying to say. But I just needed you to know because I can’t fucking fight this shit anymore—”
You lunge forward before he offers his last syllable, careful to avoid his wounds and not mush his face because he would do the same for you.
And it’s all too much tonight. The lingering fear, the dying anger, the floods of relief, the joy. You can’t stop your sobs from coming out in bursts, your whole body wracking with overwhelming emotion as he grits into your skin,
“Goddamn it, I—”
“Yoongi—”
“—so fucking much.”
Yoongi loves you. He’s here. He loves you, loves you, loves you and the beats of your heart pulse orange and blue, blue, blue.
Nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing. You will bottle this one up in a jar to place next to all the others you have stored, and when you are lonely, or hurt, or even when you’re doing just fine, you will uncork it to surround yourself with this memory and know that everything will be okay.
He loves you.
Fuck, he loves you?
You choke out his name with a sob, and he squeezes you even harder. When you can’t reply with anything else, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, his tears taking root and blossoming into beautiful vibrant fruit all along your rib cage.
He loves you.
Why can’t you seem to say it back? What the fuck is wrong with your tongue?
Maybe it’s because saying it doesn’t feel like enough. Like it’s laughable that there are words for this feeling because they don’t nearly represent what you harbor in your very being for this man.
There’s no way any words are enough. Not for him. Nor for you. Because right now, Yoongi needs something more. And you’re going to give him more than everything.
“Yoongi, I—”
He captures your lips in his, and you let him push you against his counter and consume you everywhere he wants to. Between his claims, your sobs have room to breathe. Which makes for a horrible showing of your attempting to say what you want to. “I… I can’t… Yoongi—”
Fingers press into the back of your head, a forehead smushing into yours and shutting you up completely. “I’m sorry,” he says, words rolling down the tracks your tears have walked. “I won’t ever be able to say that enough.”
“Baby,” you hiccup, resting a hand over one of his. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
“It is.” You squeeze his hand, feeling the lovely digs of his knuckles in your palm. His scent wafts around you like an embrace, and you know there’s nothing quite like it. At all. “You’re okay, so I’m okay.”
After he plants a warm kiss on your temple, you feel his hands ball into fists at your ears. “I just—fuck.”
There’s no telling what he’s thinking about in that brain of his. But you need him to know that there’s nothing more for him to be sorry for. All you care about is that he’s present, responding, and himself.
“Babe,” you whisper, still not believing those three words coming out of his mouth. “I’m here.”
“I know.” He sighs, smushing into your lips and holding you so tenderly, yet so tight. As he laps at your tongue, you’re more than sure he can taste your rainfall.
None of this is real. Because you can’t believe it at all. Even as Yoongi continues his journey across your neck, your shoulders, your jaw, your face, you still can’t piece together that this is truly happening.
When you feel him hard on your pelvis, you remember that he didn’t get the same release you got earlier. But you’re not gonna be the one to suggest going again, all of this will be what he decides.
And what Yoongi decides is to pull you closer, breathing you in while you do the same. His kisses are never ending, and your hands roam languidly along his shoulders, his hair, stretching across the expanse of his back. One that has held the weight of the world and then some.
His name leaves your mouth in a sigh, your back arching as softly as the kisses being planted along your breasts.
“If you only knew,” he whispers, laughing to himself as he wraps an arm around your side.
“Knew what?”
“Nothing, babe.” You gasp into his next rough press to your lips. “You’re so—fuck.”
You said you’d let him lead. But as Yoongi starts to walk you into his bedroom again, you think about his injuries and feel more concerned after knowing they’re there. So you quietly stop him as you reach his bed, “Are you sure?”
“I’ll be alright, doll,” he whispers, lowering you down and smiling so tranquilly your heart lurches. “As much as I think you enjoyed the first time, this time will be better.”
Giggling, you fight the heat from searing your cheeks as you smile. “You enjoyed it more than I did, I think.”
“I don’t think so.” Yoongi smirks, getting up. “Lemme get a cond—”
“It’s okay,” you halt him with a hand, and he freezes.
Full stop. No movement. Not even a breath. “...What?”
“We don’t…” You swallow, stomach fluttering at his expression. “We don’t have to this time.”
Because Yoongi’s eyes have not left your face. “You sure?”
Then something causes you to smile. Knowing that if there’s anyone you want to do this with, it’s this man right here and now. There’s genuinely no one else in the world with whom you would wanna share this experience, and the fact that he’s still asking makes you emotional.
Cradling his face with the most tender touch you can imagine, you confirm, “Just for a little bit.” And you add something you think he needs to keep hearing. “I trust you.”
Gulping down any extra emotions spilling from your heart’s chalice, your words come out a little wobbled. “And I want to, if you want it, too.”
“I want what you want, doll.”
“Then it’s okay.”
Clothes on or off, you still feel so shy underneath him.
But this time, you vow to shove those feelings of unworthiness to the side. Because you are fully invested in this moment above all others. And Yoongi deserves more than you can give.
When he slowly tugs his sweats from your legs, you’re already choking back tears. As he climbs on top, you await the connection you never in your dreams would’ve imagined.
And when Yoongi stares at you one more time, you know exactly what he’s asking.
“Yes, my love,” you wisp into his skin, craning up to kiss him and swallowing his last slice of doubt. Knowing you’ll say it again and again and again.
His brows pinch as he kisses you—slow, purposeful, understanding. Then he positions himself, and you can physically feel his hand brush your cunt as he does so. If he ever asks if you felt him shake, you will deny it. But only for a year or two.
As soon as you feel him—only him, solely him—you swell with a current of emotion. And it pulls you all the way under when he’s fully sheathed inside.
“Holy fucking shit.”
“Yoongi—”
“Fuck.”
Simply having him inside, with no barriers or obstacles in between? You’re already close. There’s no early explanation, but you already feel overwhelmed enough to come.
No no no. You want this to last forever, so you wait for Yoongi to gather himself because he appears to be fighting, too.
Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?”
And your lover snaps his gaze to your face, bangs sweeping across your cheeks and eyes unblinking. “Yeah, just...” He stares at your inquisitive expression before whooshing out a harsh breath. “Just this is about to make me bust.”
You burst into laughter before admitting you were just thinking the same thing, and his slow grin makes you want to cry. “We’re not good at this.”
“No. You’re too good at this. I can’t even move.”
“Yes, you can,” you whine. “You wreck my shit all the time.”
Feeling a twitch more prominent than ever, you giggle as Yoongi puffs out pained amusement. “Doll, if you keep talking like that, I’m pulling out.”
“Okay, okay,” you surrender, loving how out of sorts he seems. He’s fighting for his life and you’re enjoying the hell out of it.
“You’re a little too perfect right now.”
Maybe one day you will agree with him. But that day is far from reach, your head shaking in quiet disagreement.
“You are.”
“Nowhere close,” you whisper.
His nose brushes against yours. “Say that again and see what happens.”
“Is that what you tell all the others fuck!”
His shove up your cunt makes you see stars. “What did I fuckin’ say?”
“What—”
Another launch has you careening through space, lip bitten and suppressing a hearty whine. “You think there’s someone else?” Again. “Hmm?”
Again.
You’re so dazed and mind-fucked to pieces that your speech is barely audible. But your chin is grabbed as you’re snapped straight, and your eyes try their hardest to focus on slitted ones above. “You’re gonna regret saying that.”
You just laugh, whine pinging sharp into the ceiling as he shoves forward so hard your whole body shifts upward. “Oh, yeah?”
Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, thrusting up again and sending you twisting and winding towards the edge unbelievably fast. “Uh huh.”
“Make me then,” you gasp out. “Make me really sorry.”
The sound Yoongi makes comes from deep within his stomach, the rumbling hum shooting right into your veins like liquid fire.
And the full-on attack he bursts into renders you completely speechless. Everything Yoongi does pulls you deliciously in all directions—his thrusts, his chain hitting his chest, his grip on your wrists, the way he snags your chin. Everything.
“Taking me so well like this.”
“I—”
“So fucking tight.”
Fuck fuck fuck it’s habitual for you at this point, and you unhinge your jaw a split second before he smacks the side of your face. Desire lowers your lids halfway as you feel empowered, and you don’t even recognize your voice as you order him on the spot. “Do it again.”
Yoongi doesn’t stop his pace as he keeps his eyes on you.
“Do it again,” you growl, fully limp and a groaning mess when he does exactly what you want.
Fuck, the pain feels good. So good that you reach up and choke him out. But the back of your head is grabbed before you feel hungry lips smash into yours. You feel your wrists pinned again by one large palm, air chilling for a moment before a hot mouth captures one of your nipples. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi!”
“Uh uh.”
“Please—please—”
You’re still tensing as he devours your chest below his shirt, strokes now slower but just as powerful.
Your arms still haven’t been freed, but there’s something about being under his control that has you loving this position. Without question. Maybe it’s the fact that you can see him now, losing himself just as he saw you washes in the throes of passion.
And he licks, sucks, lolls his tongue all over your tits, whispered praises sinking through your bosom as he keeps a grip on your wrists.
“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—”
“Shit.” Air whooshes over you before you feel your arms freed and him yank himself out, and you freeze as he unloads right on your stomach, a sharp cocktail of pride and shock in your gut.
Holy fuck, Yoongi was that close? Did he hold out as long as he could? Shit, he’s breathing so hard his jewelry shakes as it dangles.
You’re still so surprised that your arms are still locked into bends, and he glances up at you from his kneeled state. “Fuck,” he laughs, and is that… Is Yoongi shy? “Thought I could hold out.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure through your own tiny chuckle. “Oh my god, I promise.”
He leans down to plant a heart fluttering kiss on your lips, but you hate how he looks pained on the way down.
Those hits he took… Now you kinda understand his perspective. Because now you want to avenge him in five hundred thousand ways—almost half as many ways as you want to show him how you feel.
“Stay there, beautiful,” Yoongi orders as he moves to get off the bed, wincing in passes. “I’m not done with you.”
Damn. He looks even more exhausted than before. “Baby, are you sure?”
But Yoongi walks right to his bathroom to retrieve a towel, and your eyes may as well transform into hearts when you watch him come back to you. So handsome, even now. Even when he’s simply holding a washcloth, hair completely mussed, soul sparkling and face bruised.
As he sits to clean your face before moving to your stomach, you can only observe his eyes. So experienced. Calm. At peace. When they drift to yours, it’s instinct that has you shying away. “What, love.”
Another reason to crumble inside. “I just… nothing,” you whisper.
And Yoongi finishes with the cloth before tossing it somewhere. “Tell me,” he says, lying down on the ribs with more damage. “I wanna know.”
“Come on this side,” you tell him, and he obliges without a word. “It’s a secret.”
“A secret?”
“Mmhmm.”
Yoongi settles before lifting your chin, rubbing an affectionate thumb over any tears still persevering on your cheeks. “I can keep those, you know.”
Smiling, you fold way too easily. “Okay, I’ll tell.”
When he leans in, your nervousness and excitement to tell him almost spoils your ability to do so. Like someone gifting a present while wanting to say what it is before it’s even opened.
“I love you, too,” you whisper, tears sprinting to your ducts as Yoongi freezes. When he looks at you, you can’t help but choke on a sob seeing his eyes get as red as the marks on his cheek. “And you deserve more than I could ever give.”
His eyes hold the heavens and the seas.
You’re right. Just saying it isn’t fucking enough.
You’re already liplocked again before you can think, saltwater on your face and you don’t even know whose eyes it came from.
Determined, Yoongi starts kissing a trail from your lips to your jaw, and you start to cry as he makes his own journey down the expanse of you.
All of you.
Is this what it feels like? Is all of this actually, genuinely real?
You hope so, because you feel devotion in each press of his lips, and every touch will be remembered in its own right. Its own pocket of time.
Every single stop.
It almost feels divine when his mouth reaches your folds, lapping at your essence and swirling around your clit. When you say his name, Yoongi says nothing, instead palming your thighs and eating you out like he has all the time in the world.
Swelling, you already feel close.
But the way he gets you to fantasia is so natural that you slide into your quivers seemlessly. The transition into your heaven flows like a stream, and your waves engulf his tongue and coat his mouth without trouble.
This is what it feels like. What it feels like with Yoongi.
And you wanna keep making love until only sleep can take you from him.
Your hands jut into his hair, gasping as he keeps his pace, and no matter how you squirm he is dead set on holding you down until holy fuck you’re coming again.
How? What’s happening to you? This constant stream of release is shocking you to the point of crying out, and Yoongi groans into your orgasm and prolongs it with the whole press of his tongue.
“Holy fuck, baby—!” Another wave overcomes the next, and you outright quake in his hands, eyes rolling and vision blinking white. Muscles lock as you can’t keep up with the pleasure, and you’re mercilessly let go only for lips to descend on yours.
Your tears spill into your ears as you kiss him back, wrapping tired arms over his shoulders and raking in deep.
“Fuck.” And you feel his cock lodge against your entrance, and you’re amazed how hard he is again.
Does he want what you want? Is he ready again?
As Yoongi quietly gets up to get a condom, you’re amazed that he wants to keep going after everything that’s transpired. But, if he feels like you do, he’s ready to keep going until the sun comes up three whole times.
When he sits next to you, your better half appears shy as he bites the wrapper. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”
“Oh, I already know.”
“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”
You bite your lip to hold back your smile, remembering what he said a long time ago and bringing it back full circle for the next thing you both wanna try. “One day.”
Yoongi only grins.
And for the next hour, your lover, your secret, your home gives you everything he has, and you come for him more times than you ever have in your life.
Every time, he drags your pleasure out, expertly tearing you down with his movements and building your confidence up with his words. He tells you you’re perfect, and he disagrees when you disagree. When you find tears on your face, he kisses those away, too. When you feel along his silver, he simply watches you in silence.
No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found.
After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning.
Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection.
“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.”
“I know.”
“I don’t wanna lose you.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.”
“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.”
When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.”
Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest.
After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out,
“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.”
Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer.
“Babe?”
No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet.
Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”
If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”
You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough.
Never close enough.
His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.
“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”
It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—
“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.”
When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”
“Yoongi…”
“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”
“Then… Those three months…”
“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.”
Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?”
“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”
Oh. That’s news to you.
“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.”
“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”
“What would’ve.”
“That I wanted you all to myself.”
“You already have that.”
When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”
Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”
The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”
“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”
“What if he does?”
You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”
Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”
“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?”
“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?”
Oh. Wait. “What?”
Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”
Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that.
Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops.
“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”
Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there.
And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.”
Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion,
“We’ll make it as many as we can.”
You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift.
Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.
Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same.
Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.
He loves you?
You still can’t accept that as fact.
…Maybe one day.
You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”
It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”
Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”
“Lies.”
“How much are you betting, doll.”
“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”
“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.”
“You did threaten to kick me out before.”
“Huh? When?”
“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.”
The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!”
He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.”
“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.”
“You love it.”
“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.”
“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.”
“Guess what.”
Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again.
But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours.
Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many.
Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home?
As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?”
At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.”
Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet.
When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.”
“I can!”
Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.”
His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin.
This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony.
And it hurts. It really, really hurts.
Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”
After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”
You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same.
Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”
Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret.
You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.”
…What?
No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—
“I wanna do this the right way.”
Oh.
Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking.
Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?”
When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.”
Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…
Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself.
When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.
And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.
“I’ll tell him everything.”
-
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tbc. :)
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so... how did it go! | join the server!
a/n: so. here we are, over two years and 250k+ words later. thank you for sticking with me if you're still here, and thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ever, ever ask for. if you can interact or let me know what you enjoyed/like, i would be eternally grateful. these two parts took all of me, and i'm gonna take a break for a little bit before starting on the next part. a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! things have really weighed on me for awhile, which prevented me from working on this part forreal. but my mental feels a lot lighter now, and i am ready to keep running with y'all. so thank you for your support and encouragement, no matter how you show it! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ three tangerines masterlist
#AHHH it's finally here!#bts fic#bts reactions#bts imagines#bts fanfic#ryenwrites#*ryenfictalk#yoongi fic#yoongi fanfic#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#yoongi x you#yoongi smut#bts smut#yoongi x reader#3tan12#*latest
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₊✩‧₊◜ thinking about reader and bakugo’s intense “I’m home!” sex after he gets back from a month long mission. (follow up to this!!)
『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 ꒰ tags & content ꒱ 18+ MDNI! masturbation, mentions of phone sex, toy usage (vibrator), praise, light dom/sub dynamic, pet names (baby, peach, sweets, good girl, princess - one mention of slut and whore but affectionately!), fingering, minor roleplay (bakugo in his hero gear & reader wears his mask), oral (blowjob), facial, cum eating, lots of dirty talk, nipple play, marking - biting/scratching, a sprinkle of choking, hair pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, aaand fluff! aged up characters to 22. ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — i didn’t expect this to be as long as it is, buuuut i had a lot of ideas of what they did when he came home...so there's a lot. what can i say? y'all missed each other! the smut immediately starts under the cut and does not stop until the end! 😵💫 ｡‧˚ʚ cross-posted to ao3 | word count; ~3.7k ɞ˚‧｡ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist
It's been a long month without Katuski being home. You've done everything you can think of to keep yourself busy while he's been away - played games, read books, hung out with friends and worked overtime to make the days fly by. You called each other day and night, talking for as long as his assignments for the day allowed. Thankfully, they gave him his own room as an accommodation and didn't have to worry about sharing with anyone else.
Boy, did that come in handy.
You two are not shy and foreign to phone sex of all kinds, it was something you actually talked him into doing when you're apart longer than a week for work. FaceTime, voice notes, sexting; the full gambit. You had a private collection on your phone with all his voice notes that he'd sent to you over the years. You used it as "material" for when you're alone.
One folder was all for praise - "that’s my good girl," "go slow sweets, I wanna watch ya take every inch of me," "you’re so cute when you’re begging on your knees, baby," "love watching your soft lips wrap around my cock," "your moans are so fuckin’ pretty, peach," “god, y’have no fuckin’ idea how goddamn wild you drive me,” and more snippets of him coaxing you along to get you off.
The second folder? That was your sacred treasure trove. There were only three files, but they were some of the hottest things Katuski's ever graced you with. They were 10 minute audio clips of him jerking off to the thought of you, vocalizing every detail. Thank god for advanced technology because it allowed you to hear every mumbled ‘fuck’ under his breath, hushed grunts and audible shudders.
You didn’t have any other plans for the day - listening to your boyfriend’s sexy voice while you test out a new vibrator sounded like the perfect solution!
Stripping out of your clothes, you grab a t-shirt from his dresser and throw it over your naked body. It loosely drapes over the top of your thighs, barely hiding the fact you’re not wearing any panties. You grab the vibrator from your nightstand and lay in bed, phone nestled into the pillow next to your head. You decide to choose one of the three files at random. Before you even hit play, your face is flushed and heart is threatening to burst through your ribcage. It doesn’t take long for you to succumb to the gratification, getting lost in his husky moans and the hum of the vibrator.
You’re too busy to notice that the apartment’s front door has opened, along with the commotion of Katsuki dropping his bags in the doorway. He doesn’t say anything as he’s taking off his boots, assuming you could be taking a nap or had headphones on if you didn’t come skipping down the hallway. He didn't tell you he was coming home two days early and wanted to surprise you!
What a surprise it was for him to hear subtle mewls coming from your joint bedroom, immediately catching his attention. He was still in his hero gear, minus his gloves and gauntlets, with his mask settled into his hairline like a headband. As quiet as possible, he tip toes down the hall and peeks around the doorframe. He could hear faint audio playing and a buzzing noise, but couldn’t make out what it was until he got to the doorway.
When he peeked through the crack in the door, his dick throbbed violently as it tented his cargo pants. The sight of you sprawled out on the bed, viciously fucking your new vibrator in nothing but his t-shirt was hot as hell. And you were listening to...his voice notes? He was entranced by your delicious moans and how your legs twitched when the vibrator hit your swollen clit. Part of him jokingly thought you didn’t even need him right now, since you technically did have a version of him, but his selfishness took over instead.
Willpower be damned, he needed you. Now. It took everything in him not to pounce on you right then and there.
Katsuki retreats to the living room and sits on the couch, desperately fighting the urge to start playing with himself to the sound of you doing the same. Instead, he pulls out his phone and clicks on your name to call you. He could hear your phone’s audio shift from his own voice to your ringtone, a startled yelp escaping you.
“H-hey babe,” You answer, panting quietly. “What’s up?”
He almost bursts out into laughter, but keeps it together enough for his little charade.
“Everythin' alright? Ya sound outta breath,” Katsuki teases, but decides to get to the point. “Eh, fuck it. Come into the living room.”
He hangs up and hears your feet padding against the wooden floor instantaneously. Within seconds, you slide into view, overjoyed that he’s home.
“Kats!” You squeal, scrambling over to the couch and jumping into his lap. You’re peppering his lips, neck, cheeks and forehead with rapid fire kisses, giggling as he tries to still your movements to pull you into a warm hug. He nuzzles his face into your neck lovingly, returning your kisses tenfold.
Your excitement briefly makes you forget that you were just in the middle of pleasuring yourself before rushing to greet him. The realization catches up to you when you fully sit on his lap, his erection teasing your exposed slit. A heat pools in your gut at the thought of him catching you in the act - he heard you.
“Sorry for interrupting,” Katsuki says, hands gliding up your bare thighs and grabbing a handful of your ass, grinding your center against his own. The secondary contact causes a gasp to fall from your lips. You don’t respond verbally but lift yourself away from his lap, creating enough space between you two.
“What're ya-,” he’s cut off by you taking his right hand off of your ass and tucking his fingers against your soaked entrance. You take two digits and lower yourself onto them, coating his fingers in all your built up slick.
“I missed you,” you whine as he flexes inside you instinctually, petting your walls with his coarse finger pads. You start to move on your own, gripping his shoulders and riding his fingers to finish the job you started in the bedroom.
Katsuki is speechless, not even a witty remark coming to mind to tease you. His face burns hot when the sounds of your juices sloshing around his fingers fill the room, a heat creeping up the back of his neck. Since you previously wound yourself up, it doesn’t take long until you’re ready to explode. Your eyes are threatening to roll back into your head as you swirl your hips on his fingers. His entire being is pulsing with need as he begins to drills his fingers into you, knuckle deep, and drinks in all your breathy moans. The string in your belly is pulled taut - tighter than its been in the last month, snapping with an intensity that leaves your thighs quivering within seconds.
You come all over his fingers, down his hand and stain the crotch of his cargo pants.
“Hah, good thing they’re getting washed,” you joke breathlessly as you go to kiss Katsuki but stops you - he shocks you with something he’s never done before.
He retracts his fingers from your drenched cunt and swiftly smears it all over your lips before capturing them with his own, sharing your tangy release in ecstasy. He licks your bottom lip before sitting back, breaking the kiss and settling the two fingers back to your mouth. Your lips part ever so slightly at the pressure.
“Don’t ya think you taste divine?” He smirks as he watches you open your mouth invitingly, lazily sucking his fingers covered with your spend. You don't break eye contact with him the entire time, heavily panting like a dog in heat as your tongue leisurely trails the length of each finger. A thin string of saliva sticks to the corner of your mouth as you pull away from his fingers with a soft pop of your lips.
You reach for his mask in his hairline, pushing it back to fall into your grasp. Untying the small knot, you bring it to your own face and secure it around your eyes - just like he wears on patrol. Katsuki's giving you a curious look as you slide off his lap and kneel to the floor.
Oh fuck-
Putting your hands to his hips, you drag your fingers to the hem of his pants - he's scrambling to undo his belt while you yank everything to his ankles. His cock springs forward, bouncing off his clothed abs as it’s freed from the confines of his boxers. You can tell he’s aching for you to touch him, tip leaking pre-spend and blazing hot to the touch. With no hesitation, you edge his entire length into your mouth, tongue sliding delicately along the underside of his shaft and consuming every drop of him.
“F-fuck peach, should'a let you wear my mask ages ago,” Katsuki stutters, thighs trembling at the sight your lips enclosed around him. “’m not gonna…last long watchin’ ya like this.”
You start to slither your tongue around his length, subtly hollowing your cheeks and barely moving an inch. His tip hits the back of your throat as he grabs your hair, shoving you all the way to the base and meeting his soft blonde wisps with your nose. He's unable to control himself - your mouth just feels too good around his cock right now. Katsuki’s only known his own fist for the last month, you’re making him feel like a blushing virgin all over again with how fast he’s accelerating toward his orgasm. You’ve hardly touched - well, blown - him and he's ready to combust.
His grunts have morphed into higher pitched moans as he’s bucking his hips off the couch into your mouth in tandem with your own movements, ferociously chasing the building heat in his gut.
“S-shit, fuck fuck fuck!” he yells while ripping your lips off of him by your hair, endless hot ropes of cum painting your pretty face. His mask, your cheeks, lips, and chin are dripping with white, each droplet slowly making it's way to your jawline. The sight is enough to almost make him come a second time, needing to throw his head back on the couch to avoid eye contact momentarily and pull himself together.
You hum with satisfaction and rise from your knees, straddling him on the couch once more. In the heat of the moment, you grab him by the jaw and plant a messy kiss on his lips, smearing his paintjob in the process. In the lusty haze, he doesn't give a shit that you mimicked his actions. Honestly? He kinda liked his own flavor - it complimented your own, dancing together on his tongue.
“Don’t you think you taste divine?” you purr, repeating his sentiment and licking some of the smeared cum off his cheek. You untie the mask and let it drop from your face, realizing that you may have just ruined his professional hero gear. “This…is washable, right?”
Katsuki laughs. “Yeah, don’t worry ‘bout it. 's gotta be with how dirty hero work gets.”
The two of you get up from the couch and walk to the bathroom to clean up. Once he’s done soaking a wash cloth with warm water, you’re taking his place and bending over the counter to rinse the remnants of his facial from your skin.
Lucky for him, you’re still not wearing any panties. And bent over like that? Your ass and pussy are on full display, still glistening from your previous orgasm.
Katsuki crouches to the ground, kneeling behind you and bites your bare ass with a huff. The sensation makes you jump, water splashing all over the counter and collar of your shirt.
“Katsuki!” You yelp, shutting off the water and blindly reaching for a towel nearby. “You’re insatiable.”
“Like you’re complaining.”
His tongue then traces from the inside of your thigh and stops just shy of your center, a shudder of anticipation wracking your body.
“You’re playing with fire, Kat,” you warn, spinning around and lifting your leg, placing a foot on his shoulder to teasingly show off your messy core. His eyes dart up to meet yours, a salacious grin settling on across his lips.
“Then fuckin’ light me up, princess.”
Something in you snaps - an unexplainable strong hunger captivating your mind. You wanted him to absolutely obliterate you in any and every way possible.
Everything happens in a flash - remaining clothes are strewn across the floor, bodies pressed against the plush of the sheets when you fall against the bed, tangled and relishing in the bare skin contact. The sensation kindles the fire in your veins, begging for more of him - all of him.
"K-Katsuki," you whimper onto his lips, breathless between frenzied kisses. "I want - no, need - you to fuck me like you hate my guts."
Your lascivious request has Katsuki's head swimming in a lewd sea of thoughts, gritting his teeth to hold back the ravenous desire. He can’t help but fist himself in response before leering over you.
“Oh, is that how you wanna play this game, baby?” He growls into the shell of your ear, squishing you further into the mattress. "Want me to use you like a fuckin' toy, eh? Poundin' away at your tight-ass cunt 'til ya can't take it?"
You're too enraptured by the promise swirling in your head to form any logical thoughts as his hands travel to your breast between your bodies, palms blistering hot to the touch as he tweaks your nipple. "When ya can't walk tomorrow, jus' remember y'asked me for this."
The incoherent whine that escapes you is involuntary, a raw reaction to his words. You hear a pleased hum rise from Katsuki's throat as he towers over you once more. He places a few tender kisses to your neck before he fiendishly groans, "I'm gonna fuckin' wreck you."
Not a second passes before his canines are puncturing your delicate skin, threatening to draw blood with how deep he's sinking into the bite on your jugular. Katsuki releases only to keep biting anywhere he could latch on to as he roamed your body - your neck, breasts, collarbone, shoulder, nipples, hips, thighs - eager to mark every inch of you, claim you as his. It makes you squirm and your pussy ache with need, lightning bolts of pleasure coursing through you with each snap of his teeth. Usually when he bit you, he’d soothe the area with a few kisses - but now? He was a rabid fucking animal, carnality overwhelming his ability to think straight.
You're able to get a quick look at his ruddy cock when Katsuki leans back, repositioning himself while gripping your hips. You’re salivating at the sight - thick, swollen and pulsing, spend dripping down his length and coating the skin with a sheen of arousal. He’s heavily tracing circles into your hip bones, his firm clutch on your waist keeping you in place. He’s tugging your center toward his own, teasingly slipping the head of his cock between your creamy folds. You’re about to plunge down onto him when he pulls back, a wicked grimace crossing his lips. A dissatisfied squeak spills from your lips, pouting up at him with metaphorical hearts in your eyes.
“Y’want this?” Katsuki snarls, bouncing his dick against your mound, the contact causing you to inhale sharply. “Beg like the needy slut you are.”
Words are failing you as you attempt to fulfill his demand, the only sounds falling from your puffed lips a succession of jumbled moans.
“Cat got your tongue, princess?” He snorts at his own pun under his breath as he trails his palm up your body, resting under your jaw and fixating on the seductive gleam in you pupils.
“I know how to find those pretty words ‘a yours.”
Katsuki applies firm pressure to your throat under his finger tips, tilting your head upward to face him. Your hips buck up in response, begging for him to spread you open.
He clicks his tongue at your shameless plea. "C'mon baby, tell me what ya want."
His fingers flex over your throat, playfully interchanging how much pressure he's using over the pulse in your jugular. His gaze travels down your newly bitten and bruised body, pleased with how they adorn your features.
With every ounce of concentration, you blurt out everything lingering in your heat-riddled mind. "Break the fucking bed, rip my soul from my body, leave me choking on every word, ravage me until there's nothing left...please, Katsuki!"
You barely finished screaming his name before Katsuki releases the hold on your throat, roughly returning his grips to your hips and ramming his cock straight into your sweltering sex, the burning sensation rolling your eyes back into your head.
"Good fuckin' girl, baby."
He's hypnotized by the way your tits bounce as he fucks in and out of you at a feral pace, sweat glistening over both your bodies. The room's temperature heightens, the humidity only adding to the wild desire you're sharing.
Suddenly, he pulls out of you, leaving you confused and yearning. You don't have time to ask questions as he's rolling - shoving - you onto your stomach, arching your hips into place before resuming his unmerciful thrusts, growling and grunting from behind you. The new position has you crying out, intoxicated by the way his cock is hitting every hotspot along your walls and g-spot repetitively. You're unable to contain the sounds spilling from your parted lips as they harmonize with Katsuki's moans. He bends down to snatch your hair by the roots, forcing your head off the pillow as his other hand reaches around your waist, finger pressing harshly against your puffy clit. The wail that bubbles from your throat is sinful, overwhelmed as the coil in your core is wound tighter, tighter, and tighter.
"I fuckin' love when you moan like a whore, baby," Katsuki barks out between baited breath. "Ya keep screamin' like that, 'm gonna end up stuffin' your pretty pussy full 'a cum."
You flutter around his dick in response, stroking his length with every snap of his hips. "Hah, seems like that's what your beggin' for, isn't it?"
He screws his eyes shut, jaw clenched as he's inching closer to the edge. Your clenched walls coax his release to come rocketing out of nowhere, a guttural moan spilling out of him as he pumps you full of spend. The warmth is inviting - comforting, leaving you floating on cloud nine. Katsuki lets your locks drop from his grasp and removes his hand from your clit, folding over your back with exhaustion.
Imagine his shock when you push back against him, causing him to slide out of you with a schlep and fall back against the bed. You reverse your position to face him, taking hold of his shoulders to pull him into a sitting position and shove his back against the wall.
"Wha-"
You straddle his lap, springing his still-hard cock back inside of you and begin riding him mercilessly.
"One more," you whisper, voice low and demanding. "I know you can do it, my good fucking boy can give me one more."
Your nails are digging into his chest, red scratches left in their wake as you grind your soaked center against his shaft. Katsuki's stuttering, unable to find words as the overstimulation mixed with praise short circuits his brain.
"Ba-mmph-baby, wa-ahh-wait, fuck!"
Numerous beads of sweat roll from his hairline and drip down his cheeks, slack jawed from delirium. A second wave of release is rapidly rising in his abdomen, high pitched whimpers falling from his open mouth.
"Ah-almost!" you shout, fingers tracing his hardened nipples and pinching them roughly. He jolts, a final whine escaping him as the aforementioned wave crashes down, a second round of seed spurting out inside of you. Your own slick rushes to meet his spend, mixing together as it leaks from between your legs and into his lap.
"Holy fuck," Katsuki wheezes, barely able to speak. "Wh-where the fuck did you learn that?!"
Your legs are trembling uncontrollably as you lift yourself off of his dick, falling sideways onto the bed.
"I...just thought to try it," you sigh, "Never thought I'd get you to whine like that. Fuck, Kat. That was ungodly hot."
His face is burning red and heat traveling down his neck, somewhat embarrassed at his reaction of losing himself in the moment.
"Oh no, you don't get to be embarrassed! With half the shit you do to me?!" you tease, kicking his thigh jokingly with your foot. He grumbles, scrunching his brows together and crossing his arms.
"Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you."
"Good, ya better. Now move your ass over and make room for me."
Katsuki flops next to you, too exhausted to get up from the bed. He wraps an arm around your waist and one under your head, cradling you close as your cheek meets his chest. You can hear his heartbeat thumping away as you close your eyes to the rhythm. He kisses your forehead before laying his head back against the mountain of pillows.
"Guess I should go away on missions more often if that's what I get 'ta come home to, shit. Feels like I just ran a fuckin' marathon."
You can't help but giggle, fighting off the itch to drift into slumber a little longer.
"I'm sneaking into your hotel room next time. No way am I waiting that long again!"
The two of you snuggle close, despite the ungodly amount of sweat coating your bodies and mugginess in the air, too enamored with one another to care.
"I love you so much, sweets. Don't forget that." Katsuki's voice is quiet, the words tightening in his throat as he speaks them aloud.
"I love you too, Katsuki. Forever and always."
He's satisfied with your answer as he closes his eyes, letting the wave of fatigue settle in his bones and lull him to sleep.
tagging @pastelbakugou as a thank you for the idea of a follow up 👀✨ no pressure tags!: @maddietries @slayfics @bkgrl @bub-ss hoping this was explosive enough! 🧡💥
#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo smut#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x you#katsuki bakugou x reader#my hero academia smut#bakugo fluff#katsuki bakugo#bakugo katsuki#bnha bakugo#☆.rei writes
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Cherry Wine. aka - Cherry, Part Two.
everything feels like love when you're drunk... right?
pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. characters who wouldn't even recognise their own feelings if they smacked them in the face.
word count - 3k
author's note - I love it when people walk each other home... if you couldn't tell. I think some of our most honest conversations happen on the street at 3am. thank you so much for all the love on Cherry!! I hope you enjoy this part two. friends to lovers might just be my favourite trope ever. it gets me everytime :(.
as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics <3. thanks, angels.
part one. part three. part four. series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
His eyes are glued to you.
They have been since he watched you pour just a little too much cherry vodka into your red plastic cup.
He keeps trying to catch your gaze across the smoky room, multicoloured lights clouding his vision. There's some sort of punk song playing through a stereo system somewhere, the beat of the guitar thumping through the wooden floorboards and into Steve's bones.
You're laughing, head thrown back at something Eddie has said. He's funny, Steve thinks. But not that funny. He watches carefully, refraining from intervening right up until the moment you almost trip over your own foot and into the curly haired boy. Steve's moving across the room before he can even process it.
"Cherry," he teases, hand snaking around your waist to hold you upright. "You okay?"
You turn in his hold to throw your arms around his neck, looking up at him with big doe eyes.
"Stevie."
You say his name so sweet that he stumbles and almost takes you down with him.
"You okay?" you giggle.
"I'm good. You good?"
"I'm good."
You sway with him for a second, closing your eyes and revelling in the warmth of his hands on the bare skin of your waist.
"You're a little tipsy, huh?"
"Just a little."
"You wanna go home?"
You chew on your lip for a moment, weighing up your options.
"Can we go to your place? I don't wanna face my parents like this."
Steve leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, brushing the hair back from your face.
"Of course. Let's go, hm?"
"Let me grab my jacket. I'll meet you by the door."
You slink off upstairs, leaving Steve alone with Eddie.
"Just friends," Eddie mocks under his breath quietly.
"What?"
"Nothin'."
Steve stares at his friend with a brow quirked, stormy look on his face.
"All I'm sayin' is - I don't look at my best friend like that. Don't hold 'em like you just did. Don't have sleepovers either."
"I've known her since we were kids. It's different."
"I've got friends I've known since kindergarten. I don't kiss them on the forehead."
"I wouldn't put it past you," Steve mumbles, finished with the conversation. "Whatever, man. You don't get it."
"Oh, I get it. You're in love. Steve and Cherry, sitting in a tree-"
"Don't call her that."
"See? You're defensive over her nickname, because you gave it to her. Don't be an idiot, Steve. Life's too short."
"Yours will be, if you don't shut up."
Eddie takes that as his cue, shaking his head as he leaves to go and complain about the music choice.
Steve meets you outside, chuckling when he sees you shivering as you hold your jacket.
"Cherry, put your coat on. You're freezing."
You look up at him, slightly bewildered, and he fights to keep the smile off his face. Taking it from your hands, Steve slips the jacket around your shoulders, hands skimming up your arms to warm you.
"Better?"
"Better."
You slip your hand into his and begin to walk away from the noise, finally taking a deep breath when you're down the street.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," you reply, nudging him with your shoulder. "Feet hurt though. Fuckin' shoes."
You both stop, Steve kneeling down in front of you to unbuckle your heels. You look at him questioningly and he winks, cheeky and full of love.
He slips them off your feet and sits down on the curb, taking his sneakers off and gesturing for you to step into them.
"No, Steve. I chose to wear these, it's my own fault."
"I know, and they looked cute. But now you're going to wear these."
You step into the shoes reluctantly, holding back tears when he kneels and ties your laces tightly. Rising to his feet, he presses a kiss to your forehead before intertwining your fingers again, picking up your heels with his other hand.
You're both quiet, as you walk. Neither of you needs to say anything. It's always been this way. Steve's not good with silence usually, but with you, it's more than comfortable. Sometimes, you'll sit for hours in his bedroom doing your own things, content to just know the other person is there.
"Minnie Lawson kept asking about you tonight."
You try to keep the disdain from your voice as best you can, praying Steve doesn't pick up on it.
He does. He doesn't mention it.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
You keep walking, smiling occasionally when you catch sight of Steve's socked feet next to yours.
"What did she say?"
You mentally kick yourself for bringing it up, but take a deep breath and tell him anyway.
"Kept asking if you were single."
"And what did you say?"
"Told her she needed to ask you herself and that I'm not your secretary."
Steve cackles at this, loud and endearing. The sound makes you grin, whether you want to or not.
"Shit, Cherry baby. What did the girl ever do to you?"
"I didn't mind when she asked the first couple times, but the more she drank, the more she forgot. She couldn't remember if she'd already asked so kept asking again."
He laughs again, squeezing your hand where it still holds his tightly.
"She didn't talk to me."
"Didn't think she would."
He looks at you for a moment too long, your eyes meeting the floor to avoid his gaze.
"Mikey was asking about you tonight, you know."
You'd had a crush on Mikey in ninth grade, the summer after he'd gotten tall and started to look less like four walking limbs and more like a man. He was a nice guy, if not a little boisterous sometimes.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Said you looked pretty. Wanted to know if you were still with the Douchebag."
You chuckle at the hatred in Steve's voice at the mention of your ex boyfriend.
"And you said..."
"That he was in the wind, thankfully."
"Dodged a bullet with that one."
You lean into his arm, savouring the warmth of his skin you can feel through your jacket and his long sleeve shirt.
"Mikey wants to ask you out."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. Is that so hard to believe? You're a catch, you know."
"I don't know. Boys like Mikey never look at me, usually."
"I look at you."
Your breath hitches in your chest. It's like your heart has forgotten how to beat.
"Yeah," you whisper. "But you're Steve."
After a moment, you add,
"My Steve."
You rest your head onto his bicep, still clutching his hand. He leans down to press a kiss into your hair, resting his cheek there for a moment.
"You're worlds apart from boys like Mikey, Steve. He's nice, but he's not you."
You're not sure where all this sudden truth is coming from, but you're wondering if the cherry vodka has maybe hit you a little harder than you first thought.
"And you and Minnie Lawson aren't even in the same league. You've got nothing to worry about."
You both process Steve's words, before he starts stuttering.
"I mean, not that you, not that - it's not like you were worried, I'm sure. I bet you weren't. I just mean... you know what I mean, right?
Thankfully, you do.
"I know what you mean. I always do."
He stops walking, turning to face you on the sidewalk, hand never dropping yours. You're not sure where you are, but you know Steve knows. He'll keep you safe. Always.
"Okay," he breathes.
"Okay," you breathe.
"I love you," he breathes.
"I love you," you breathe.
"I don't want you to date Mikey Carter," he breathes.
"I don't want you to date Minnie Lawson," you breathe.
You both inhale deeply, following the other person's lead.
"I can't stop thinking about the other night," Steve whispers, so quietly you'd have missed if it you weren't so in tune with him.
Your lungs constrict for a second, all the air leaving you at once.
"Me neither."
You're stood in the street whispering to each other, frightened you'll burst the bubble you've accidentally created.
"I feel bad," you confess.
"Why, honey?"
"Because I... I didn't return the favour. I just let you get into bed and fall asleep. Sorry."
Steve's hands come up to cradle your face, eyes searching yours as if he's reading his favourite book.
"I didn't want you to. I told you, it wasn't about me, it was about you. I didn't... I didn't initiate it so I could get something in return."
"Sorry."
"Stop apologising, Cherry. You've got nothing to apologise for."
"Sorry," you reply without thinking, causing both of you to double over into fits of laughter.
Steve wipes the happy tears from your cheeks, gaze never leaving yours. You look at each other for a moment, feeling the atmosphere shift. The world could collapse around you both, and neither of you would notice. It's just you and Steve. Nothing more, nothing less.
He leans in gently, pressing his lips to yours in a featherlight kiss. He tastes like beer and spearmint.
"You're wearing your lipbalm."
"You've been chewing your gum."
He chuckles, kissing you again softly.
"You wanna go home?"
"Please. You're in your socks, and I look like a clown."
He looks at your feet and laughs, the sound much too loud for the early hours of a Sunday morning.
"Let's go, Cherry baby. My warm bed awaits us."
The stars guide you home hand in hand, Steve stealing the occasional kiss when you happen to be looking in his direction. You kick off his shoes by the door, running straight up the stairs to change out of your uncomfortable dress. Steve stops by the kitchen to grab you both a glass of water, bounding up after you and spilling half the liquid in the process.
He stops in the doorway when he reaches his room, breath caught in his throat. You're stood in just your panties, bare back to him, rifling through his drawers to find the soft grey shirt you always steal.
It's a sight he's seen before. Something is different this time.
"Where is it?" you ask, not turning around.
You know he's there. You know he knows what you're looking for.
This is what love is, he thinks suddenly. The knowing. The unknowing. The knowing that the other person knows. The other person knowing that you know. Unspoken knowledge.
"Bottom drawer, left," he chokes out. "Washed it."
You slip it on and turn around, pouting. The boy quirks a brow at you in question.
"Doesn't smell like you. Smells like your detergent, but not you. Will you wear it, when I leave?"
"Yeah," he chuckles, fighting the blush from rising across his chest. "Anything you want, baby."
Steve shrugs off his clothes, slipping on a fresh pair of boxers before sliding into his side of the bed. You're in the bathroom, humming a tune that he can't quite place but knows he heard tonight. He watches you through the open door as you sway gently, ready to jump up and catch you if need be. You pee with the door still open, and Steve chuckles. It's like you've been married for twenty years.
"Can you please turn the fan on? I'm hot."
"Anything for you, Cherry Pie."
You jump into your side of the bed, sitting up to face the boy next to you. It might be 3am, but you're both wide awake, veins buzzing with endless possibility.
"I've been thinking," you murmur quietly.
"Never a good sign."
"Shut up."
You both laugh, and you can't help but grin. What a miracle, you think. To be alive at the same time as a boy like Steve Harrington. To know him. To love him.
"Will you let me return the favour?"
It's a vague question, but Steve knows exactly what you're asking. He chokes on his breath, tilting his head to look at you.
"Babe, you don't have to-"
"-I want to. So badly."
Steve inhales deeply, willing himself to calm down.
"I don't have to, if you don't want me to. But I can't stop thinking about the way you'd taste."
The boy thinks he's died and gone to heaven. Dreaming, maybe.
"Honey... fuck."
Steve nods, bottom lip caught between his teeth.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Please. Jesus."
He's breathing so frantically, you're worried he might pass out. The last thing you need is your best friend unconscious.
"Breathe, Stevie. It's just me and you."
"Me and you."
"Always."
He comes back down to Earth, so you lean in to kiss him, all tender and cherry flavoured. Tangling your fingers into his hair, you push him backwards so he's leaning against the headboard. You straddle his hips, plush lips pressing into his neck, his chest, his collarbones. Steve's practically melting, a puddle of love and affection beneath you.
"Let me take care of you," you whisper into his ear, and who is he to deny you when you ask so sweet?
You crawl down his body until you're situated between his legs, thick thighs bracketing you in. You kiss along the inside of the muscle, nipping as you go and revelling in the way he jumps and hisses. It's nice to be the one in charge for once.
You scratch your nails along the bulge in his boxers, smirking when his hips buck up into you. You think, for a moment, that you'd happily lie here and tease him like this for hours, just to see when he'd snap. But this isn't the time for games, so you store that thought for another day.
"This still okay?"
"More than okay," he replies, all breathy and ungrounded. You link your fingers with his and squeeze, and all his nerves melt away.
You don't let yourself begin to think about why he's nervous. You know Steve's a ladies man, you know he's done this many times... so why is it different with you? You wonder if maybe you should talk about it afterwards. You're not sure if either of you are ready for that.
Mouthing at him over his underwear, you hum in contentment at his warmth. He's always run hot, every part of him. It's one of your favourite things.
You hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tug them down, throwing them onto the floor somewhere. The room is dimly lit by the lamp on the nightstand, the lightbulb casting shadows across Steve's slightly sweat damp skin. The fan acts as a soundtrack, white noise breaking up the silence.
You look at him and bite your lip, buzzing with anticipation. It's not like you haven't seen each other naked before, but it's different like this.
"Just... tell me what you like or what you don't like as I go along, okay?"
Steve smiles in adoration, running his thumb over your cheekbone gently.
"Okay."
You wrap your hand around him and curl your wrist, holding back a smirk when the boy whines. It's a pretty sound. You'd like to hear it again and again until he loses his voice.
Leaning in, you lick up the length of him, groaning at the salty musk. His taste, his scent, his sounds... it's all so Steve. He's the centre of your universe, everything around you just Steve Steve Steve.
Taking him fully into your mouth, a hand flies into your hair, tangling his fingers. He doesn't move you, just tethers himself to something real, something grounding. You take him as much as you can, working up a rhythm between your tongue and your hand. Steve's breathing as if he's just ran a marathon, chest heaving and lungs burning.
He finds his voice, suddenly.
"Oh fuck, baby."
"Shit, Cherry. Fuck, just like that."
"That's it, atta girl. Perfect girl. My girl."
"Oh, you're so good. So fucking good."
He tenses, fingers tightening in your hair once again.
"So close, baby. Don't stop. Please."
You double down on your efforts, twisting your wrist in that way you've figured out he likes as you hollow your cheeks and suck. The boy sees stars, vision going white.
The noise he lets out as he finishes will be forever engrained in your mind, a never ending symphony that no orchestra could ever recreate.
He goes lax, collapsing back against the bed as you swallow, never breaking eye contact. You stick your tongue out as proof and he groans, deep and gutteral.
"Kiss me," he chokes, too blissed out to move.
You crawl up his body and press your lips to his, squeaking in surprise when he slips his tongue into your mouth to taste himself.
"Filthy," you laugh, resting your forehead against his.
"You love it."
You shake your head, but can't wipe the grin from your face.
"I love you."
"I love you more."
After a second, you giggle.
"What's funny?"
"I'd like to see Minnie Lawson do that."
Steve laughs, loud and melodic in the low light of the room.
"She's got nothing on you, Cherry baby. No one does."
You process the words, heart stuttering in your chest.
"We should talk about this," you whisper.
"We will," he assures, tugging you into him so your head is resting on his chest. "Tomorrow."
Lines have been crossed, lives have been changed, but the stars above your heads remain the same. They'll always guide you back to Steve.
The lamp flickers, the fan hums, the crickets sing their night time lullabies.
The boy leans down to press his lips to yours. He tastes like cherries and every kiss for the rest of your life.
@allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @enigmaticloki
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x female reader#steve harrington x bestfriend reader#steve harrington x bestfriend!reader#bestfriend!steve harrington x reader#stranger things smut#stranger things x reader#stranger things fluff
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How Long
pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller
description: your boyfriend tommy miller is a cheating bastard. luckily, your brother-in-law joel is nice enough to help you get your mind off of it.
word count: 5.1k
warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, this is porn, joel is a consent king though!, talk of horrible sex life, cheating, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, multiple orgasms, pet names
author's note: hey lovers (; I have been teasing this one awhile. i may continue this if you guys like it a lot. this was a request from an anon, i hope they like it!! i'm almost at 400 followers and I was gonna release this when I hit that, but I am too excited to share this. leave me your thoughts! my requests are still open! <3
You and Tommy went way back. You had crushed on him since high school, his charisma was hypnotic and you were hooked the moment he asked for your phone number. You became borderline obsessed. He was the ideal boyfriend. A huge mama’s boy, respectful, and hilarious.
You hadn’t ever questioned Tommy’s intentions with you. You two even talked marriage.
It wasn’t until his 26th birthday that you noted a shift in his behavior and when everything officially fell apart. You had just spent all afternoon at his brother, Joel’s, house. You and Joel arranged a surprise birthday barbeque and you were so excited to spend his special day with him and his whole family.
The whole day, you lied and said you were going for a girls day out with your sister, who was newly single. Instead, you and Joel slaved over the stove making Tommy’s favorites. You also decorated the shit out of Joel’s whole house, with the help of his tween daughter, Sarah.
Joel told him to come over to help with fixing up his truck, but in actuality you all jumped out of your hiding spots and yelled “happy birthday!”
He hardly reacted. He was dazed seeing your beautiful smile peak up behind Joel’s recliner.
His attitude was distant the whole night. He wouldn’t kiss you, and pulled away every time you went in to wrap your arms around his waist. He drank way more than you expected, tallying up about 10 beers.
Joel noticed it, too.
Joel even asked if he should start taking it easy and cool it on the beer. That only pissed Tommy off, which lead you to break up an argument in front of their own mother. Joel was annoyed, noting how shitty Tommy was being towards you. He was ready to fight his own brother on his birthday.
After the festivities and helping Joel with the dishes, you bid the whole family farewell. Tommy was too drunk to drive home, so you knew you would take him home in your Toyota Corolla, telling Joel you’d be back tomorrow to get his truck.
“Drive safe you two,” Joel said in the driveway after assisting Tommy to the car. Even after Tommy yelled and fussed at him, he still gladly accepted Joel’s help. He knew he couldn’t walk any more than 50 feet. You smiled watching them, happy they could make amends so quickly, and started up your engine.
The whole ride home, Tommy kept checking his flip phone. The screen would light up into his glazed over eyes and he’d huff in frustration.
“Everything okay, baby?” You finally decide to ask.
You glance over in his direction and you could tell he was annoyed by the question. You bite the inside of your cheek, anticipating him to blow up at you next.
Tommy was not a nice drunk. He would blow up at the drop of a hat. There’d been countless times where he’d pick a fight with you after you picked him up from a bar or a friend’s house. You learned not to talk on any rides home when he was drinking. But you couldn’t help yourself.
“You want my honest answer?”
Of course, you did. But when he says it like that?
“What is it, Tommy?”
He clears his throat, “I’m fuckin’ your sister.”
You felt your world crashing around you in that instant. You slam on your breaks on a main road, unable to actively drive due to the shocking news. You pull off into an abandoned parking lot, your hands shaking as you throw the car in park.
“What?”
You didn’t even want to look over at him, your eyes welling with tears.
“Yeah,” Is all he says, his voice changing, “I’m sick of lyin’. It’s only been a couple times. But she wants to meet back up.”
His drunk honesty was like vomit coming out of his mouth. Constant and sickening. He was so heartless with his words. This wasn’t your Tommy. What made everything so much worse was that it was your fucking little sister. You two didn’t have the best relationship, but you still cared deeply for her. This was the ultimate betrayal. You couldn’t believe that she, of all people, would try to destroy your picture perfect life.
Not so picture perfect anymore.
The soft hum of the radio takes up the air. You felt like you could suffocate with all of the tension.
“How long?”
He chuckles lowly, “Longer than I’d probably like to admit. Why do you think her ex dumped her?”
You finally turn to him. He looked remorseless, not even batting an eye at your distraught expression.
“Get the fuck out of my car, Tommy,” You say sternly, “I don’t want to see your face ever again.”
“Oh come on baby,” He groans, “At least take me home.”
“Get,” The tears begin to fall, “Out. Now.”
He throws his hands up in surrender, “Fine, don’t want to watch you cry, anyway. Makes me feel like shit.”
He opens the car door and you watch as he stumbles out. He practically falls on the concrete, his footing wobbly from the alcohol. If you were as callous as him, you’d back your car right over him, but instead you sped off as soon as the door slammed shut.
Your hands are still vibrating, unsure of what to do next, you pick up your phone and dial Joel.
He answers after three rings.
“‘Sup, sweetheart?”
His Southern drawl is hushed, like he was trying to be quiet for someone. It was late, maybe he was putting Sarah to bed.
“Your brother.”
It’s all you could say before breaking out into a deep sob. He becomes panicked, immediately springing into older brother mode, begging you to tell him where you were.
You finally catch your breath, “He’s a cheating bastard. He fucked my sister and I left him in the old Hecht’s parking lot.”
Joel lets out a long sigh, “Where are you?”
“I’m driving,” You mutter, choking back more sobs you feel coming up, “I can’t go home.”
You knew going home would be painful. All the photos lining your walls of you and Tommy. The pictures with your own sister. All of his belongings scattered all over the house. You knew you’d spiral, untangling the mess and missed signs.
“Come back to my house,” He suggests, “I’ll go get Tommy and take him home. The back door will be unlocked, just come right in and settle down. Make some tea or somethin’.”
You nod even though he can’t see you.
Joel was the older brother you never had. He was mature and honest. You had come to him a couple times to analyze Tommy and his behavior. It didn’t happen often, but he was great at advice. You trusted him. He was family to you.
“Thanks Joel,” You wipe your tears, “See you in a bit.”
-
Luckily Sarah was fast asleep upstairs, snuggled up soundly, while you tried to contain your sobs. You couldn’t believe how drastically this evening turned.
Tommy cheated on you with your sister.
The man you were hoping to marry and settle down with? The one who was adored by your parents? The one you told all your darkest secrets to?
You had no clue how he would ever come back from this. And he did it with your sister?
You still could not grasp that it was her. The girl who always came to you for boy advice? Hell, she came to you last week asking about a guy she had be-
It was fucking Tommy. She wanted advice on how to woo your fucking boyfriend.
You wanted to strangle her too, but who knows what lies he may have been leading. You wanted the whole story, but you didn’t want to open a can of worms so late in the evening. You weren’t going to be sleeping, plagued by your own thoughts and emotions.
You’re curled up on Joel’s couch, using his huge knitted blanket as a cape. You turned on the TV only to give your cries some background noise.
Just when you stop the tears, Joel walks in with this look on his face. Disappointment. Rage.
“How ya holdin’ up, sweet girl?”
Joel had tons of pet names for you, but that was a new one. He has always called you anything but your actual name.
“Not good,” You say, choking back more tears. You were practically all cried out, your cheeks were stained bright red. Joel shuffles over to you, dropping his keys down on the coffee table. He plops down on the couch next to me.
“He’s a fuckin’ idiot,” He mutters, patting your unclothed thigh. Maybe it was the words he said that sent goosebumps up your body, not the fact he took a long second to remove his hand from your leg.
“I just can’t… Why would he do this?”
He huffs, shrugging his broad shoulders, “I asked him and he said it’s cuz you ain’t puttin’ out like you used to. Said that your sister came onto him and he couldn’t say no.”
It felt like another stab to the heart. You and Tommy had sex like three times a week. Every time he came inside you and praised you. You on the other hand, never came and had grown sick of having to finish yourself off every time it happened. So yeah, maybe you weren’t the eager youngin’ you were before, but you still fucked him whenever he wanted.
“That’s horseshit! I fuck him all the time. He is just… he’s a fucking cheating bastard. I just can’t believe it was her. Like what man fucks around with his girl’s own sister? He knows better.”
You’re trying to rationalize his behavior in your head. But Joel is not as kind.
“He obviously doesn’t, sweet girl. He…” He drifts off, catching himself for saying how he truly felt about his brother. Once he looks into your puffy red eyes, his tune changes, “He’s a stupid motherfucker for letting a girl like you go. Don’t know much about your sister, but she has some explainin’ to do, too.”
Your heart flutters a bit. Joel’s accent was so much more pronounced when he was angry, it was kind of hot. Why are you thinking that right now?
“I just can’t believe he would do something so… heartless. He didn’t even act sorry, Joel.”
“The alcohol made him bold, that’s for sure. Doesn’t ‘cuse the behavior, but ya know,” He sits back into his couch, “‘m sorry, sweetheart.”
You turn to face him, “Makes me think of the time he accused me of cheating.”
“He accused you of cheatin’? When?”
It was years ago, right after your 21st birthday. Joel and Tommy took you and a couple of your friends out to a club in downtown Austin. You took so many shots, you ended up dancing a bit too close with Joel. It led to a fight you had never brought up to Joel himself, but nonetheless, Tommy thought you had a thing for his older brother.
Sure, Joel was nice. He was a bit more serious than Tommy, always trying to be the rational one. He was an excellent and present father, dedicating his entire life to raising Sarah. He had similar features to Tommy. Tall, dark hair, beautiful brown eyes. When you talked to him, those eyes of his were so laser focused on what you said, sometimes you found yourself stumbling over your words.
Maybe it was a little crush.
“It was years ago,” You confess, looking down at your bitten back cuticles, “He thought I had a thing for you.”
His eyes zero in on your lips, like he’s trying to take the words out of your mouth, one by one.
“A thing? What type of thing?”
You shake your head, pushing your face into your hands. This wasn’t something you wanted to talk about, especially not now. But it was distracting you from thinking about what you could’ve done. Instead, you’re reminding yourself of all the shitty things Tommy has done over the years. That “perfect boyfriend” you had in the beginning was falling apart a long time ago. You just hadn’t seen the signs right in front of you. Now here they are, splattered all over the floor.
“He thought you and I had a bit too much fun on my 21st, I don't know! He always acted so weird when I talked about you. You’re like my brother, I would never cross that line.”
The silence in the room was deafening. You finally raise your head, looking at Joel’s contemplative face.
“Never?”
You stare at him, looking for a smile to crack across his face. Like it was a joke or something.
But it wasn’t.
The air in the room shifted.
“Joel,” You mumble, before his fingers reach up and trace your bottom lip gently, “We can’t.”
“Why ‘cause I’m like your brother, or ‘cause you’re still banking on kissin’ and makin’ up with Tommy?”
It was a fair question. Making up with Tommy was never even a question, though. After being burned so harshly, you didn’t see any redemption. He was done for. Once that confession slipped past his lips, he was as good as gone.
This would be the greatest revenge. Fucking his brother?
What could you lose?
Joel could be your rebound. Something to ease the harsh sting you still felt in your heart. You start to feel guilty pile in the pit of your tummy. But then you hear Tommy’s words ringing in your head.
“I’m fuckin’ your sister.”
Yeah, you could use some revenge.
“You can’t tell him,” You murmur, making sure it’s in a whisper. Even if you wanted this to be revenge, you didn’t want Tommy to know, “Ever.”
“It’ll be between you and me, baby girl.”
You nod, finally accepting his offer. He grabs your legs and pulls you into his lap. You never thought you’d see the day where you would be mounted on top of Joel Miller. His eyes feasted on you in a way that sent tingles straight down to your core.
“I can’t lie, baby girl,” He purrs, his hands tracing you from your thighs all the way up to your shoulders, “I have thought this scenario out countless times.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” His hand finds its way to your neck, “Seein’ you at family barbeques, watchin’ you at bars with Tommy. Always wanted to pull you into a bathroom and get a feel of these,” He runs his hands down your chest, catching the edge of your yellow tank top. Tommy’s favorite color on you. He pulls it down, revealing your white bra underneath. It was your favorite push up, a Christmas present from Tommy.
He was littering your body, but instead of Tommy’s hands removing every trace of himself away from your body, it was his brother.
Joel doesn’t take note of your dazed expression, he’s too focused on your cleavage spilling over your bra. His fingers trace back to the clasp, his fingers expertly unhooking it. It sent chills down your back, while your boobs fall further out of the bra. He helps you shimmy it off your front, his eyes lighting up when your boobs rest right in his eyeline.
“Fuckin’ Christ,” He groans, his thumb and pointer finger tugging on your left nipple. You hiss, letting yourself get out of your own head for a moment. Your boobs were extremely sensitive, which is why every man you’d ever been with used that to their advantage. Instead of treating your pussy to a good time, they just toyed with your nipples while drilling into you, which usually had you cumming after a couple minutes. Deep down, you wished Tommy had actually gave your pussy the time of day. Eat you out, finger you until you saw stars. But he never had “time for that”.
His words.
Joel wraps his lips around your nipple, letting his tongue circle around your areola. He uses his open hand to massage your other tit. Once he releases your nipple, he leaves love bites at the swell of your boobs. He groans at your reaction, which was grinding your hips achingly slow across his lap.
“Mmm,” You hum, your hands finding his brown locks, “More.”
“‘m not gonna fuck you here,” He scowls, “Gonna take you to my bed.”
Without warning, he stands up, gripping onto your thighs to take you with him. You yelp in shock, throwing your arms around his neck.
“I got you,” He states, walking down the hall to his bedroom. You had been in there before, only to grab his wallet one day when you guys were in a rush to get to Sarah’s soccer game.
It was only slightly messy and smelled like him. Clean laundry and strawberry shampoo.
You were thrown atop his unmaid sheets, bouncing a bit at the impact. You decide to use the time of Joel crawling onto to the bed, to completely discard your tank top. Joel’s body takes over yours, his one hand propping him up, the other feeling your sides and scooping up your breast.
“Think I’m gonna take my time with you,” He grunts, his hand finding your short’s belt loops, “Make you forget everythin’ and focus on me.”
You nod, agreeing to his terms.
He sits back on his knees, tugging down your shorts and thong. He hisses as soon as he notes the wetness on your lacey panties. Once he tosses the items beside the bed, he nudges your knees apart.
“Damn, baby girl,” He just looks at you completely spread for him, shaking his head in disbelief, “Tommy’s a fuckin’ idiot. Could look at this pussy every minute of every day.”
You moan before you can retaliate, your mind responding to his fingers tracing your slit up and down. You watch him crawl up you, his lips so close to yours. You two hadn’t even kissed yet, instantly going to tearing each other’s clothes off. It felt more intimate, more real.
He finally leans in, pursing his lips to meet yours.
Joel was gentler than expected. Tommy was always hurried, his kisses only to warm you up a bit. You never really kissed during sex either, because he always had you doggy, which wasn’t ideal for kisses.
Joel’s kisses took your breath away. He was slow and methodical, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You finally decide to pull him down onto your naked body, his hips settling between yours. The action made him a bit more eager, as he grinded his crotch into your wet center.
“Gonna have me cumming in my jeans, sweet thing,” He laughs, pulling away from your swollen lips. He crawls back down the bed, his shoulders resting between your thighs this time.
“What are you doing?” You ask, hesitantly.
He smiles again, “‘m gonna eat this beautiful pussy of yours. Unless you don’t want me to.”
You had no real objections, it just something you had never fully enjoyed with anyone else before. You were willing to see what Joel Miller could bring to the table. You nod your head in agreement, letting him rest his hand on your lower tummy, holding you in place for his mouth. He ducks down, pressing small kisses over your clit. His actions already had you writhing under his touch.
He continues on, gripping your stomach a bit harder as he explores your pussy with his tongue. He switches between sucking and licking, eventually settling with running his tongue in circles inside of you. You were a groaning mess, your hand eventually finding your mouth so you could control the volume. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself with how loud you could be. He stops as soon as you do it.
“You ain’t gotta do that,” He says, his mouth wet with your slick, “I wanna hear those pretty little moans of yours. Don’t worry about anyone hearin’ ya.”
You take your hand off your mouth and he continues on with his assault on your folds. It’s sending you into overdrive, watching him go down on you. He was so hot, splayed out between your thighs, devouring you whole.
His exploration ends with him wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking you up like a straw. You couldn’t believe how good the vibration felt.
You were feeling that heat in your stomach, so as soon as Joel slipped his hand up and began adding fingers inside you, you knew you were done for. He starts with two, fucking you slowly and systematically. He curls his fingers up like a hook, his lips still wrapped around your bud.
This was it. This is what you were missing.
Your unrestrained pleas don’t fall on deaf ears. Your orgasm hits you like a semi-truck. You reach for anything in your vicinity, which happened to be Joel’s hair and his white sheets. He didn’t let up on you as you came around his fingers, fucking you through it.
“Holy f-fuck,” You stutter, “Joel what the fuck?”
“We are just gettin’ started, sweetheart,” He states, standing up beside the bed to take his clothes off. His cock was standing at attention in his boxers before he tore them off.
Tommy was above average, but Joel was well endowed.
You gape at the view, unable to really form a coherent sentences.
“You’re droolin’,” He jokes, finding his way back on top of you. You giggle, letting the joke roll of your shoulder, instead of letting it embarrass you. He finds your lips again, kissing you roughly this time. You could tell he was aching for you, his hips finding their way between yours again.
“Oh,” You say, feeling his tip nudge your folds, “I’m on birth control, by the way.”
“I assumed so,” He states plainly, kissing your neck and chest, “Won’t cum in you unless you want me to.”
You grin, “You’re all about consent, ain’t ya?”
He laughs, “You’re in control here, baby girl. ‘M just here to get your mind off all the shit.”
You have never been so enamored by a man in your life. He was saying all the right things, but you knew in your heart he wasn’t just saying anything. Joel was a genuine guy. He never lied to you or belittled you.
The longer you’re under him the more you start to realize that this is what you’ve wanted all along.
He brings you back to reality with an feverish kiss, drawing you back to the moment. His hands trail down your side, tickling you a bit.
“Hey,” You murmur, pulling away from his delicious mouth, “I want to… I uh-“
You don’t know how to say it. To be honest, you and Tommy were in a routine with sex so you didn’t know how to ask to suck someone off. You usually just did it first to get it done and over with. But you felt like you needed to do it for Joel, not out of obligation, but because you wanted to see him squirm under your touch. You have thought about it more than once.
“Words, sweetheart.”
“Let me suck your dick.”
He smiles, letting out a slight chuckle at your demand. He never thought he’d hear that coming from your mouth. He waits a second, acting like he’s seriously contemplating the offer.
Of course he was going to accept.
You sit up, giving him more space to lay down next to you. You crawl over his legs, settling between his calves. His cock was red, the veins so prominent. It was just waiting for you. He tucks his one arm behind his head, propping it up to watch you put on a show.
“Let me know if I’m doing okay,” You ask sheepishly. You wanted to punch yourself for saying something so stupid. You were never confident in your abilities and you didn’t want to disappoint Joel.
He nods, watching you grab onto his shaft with your hands, “You’ll do great, baby girl.”
You spit into your hands once you realize you need more lubrication. You crouch more, jerking him off slowly. He is already so reactive, throwing his head back against his headboard.
You begin to tease him, peppering kisses onto his shaft and tip as it leaked. You smile when you hear him hiss at you toying with him. You finally wrap your lips around his dick, sucking in your cheeks as you pull your head back. He was so big you couldn’t physically get your mouth completely down his length. He was girthy, too, which didn’t help either when it came to almost unhinging your jaw to take all of him.
“Such a good girl,” He praises, taking your hair into his grip, “You ain’t gotta take it all.”
The reassurance was comforting. You didn’t feel any pressure with Joel, which only made him more desirable in your eyes.
You watch his face twist in delight every time you take him into your mouth, wrapping his cock in your saliva.
“Keep doin’ that and ‘m gonna cum in that mouth,” His drawl is so buttery and deep, your center literally clenches.
You pull off of him, gaining some confidence in your bedroom talk.
“Need that done somewhere else.”
He shakes his head, sitting up more to manhandle you up to his lap. As you slide across his body, you feel his wet cock touch your inner thighs.
Your mouth falls open as soon as his hands grab your hips and settle you right over his length. You are on your knees on either side of his thighs, looking down at him and his absolutely spent expression. His curls were standing in all different directions and his eyes were dark with anticipation.
“Want me to do the honors?”
He grabs his cock, positioning it right below your opening. Your lips twitch upward, shaking your head positively.
He lines you up, pushing his hips upward. He is stretching you immediately, the angle making you crumble under his touch already. Your legs practically give out when he’s partially sheathed in you, which causes you just to sit and take the rest of him in you.
“Oh my fucking god,” You moan out, shutting your eyes to soak in every twitch, “I have never been this fucking full.”
Your eyes fly open, realizing what you just insinuated.
“Don’t worry, baby girl. I knew he wasn’t givin’ you exactly what you needed,” He starts to guide your hips to circle his, “I give you what you need.”
You never expected him to be so confident, but it was so hot. You rested your hands on his pecks and started easing yourself up and down onto his length. His lips flick upward, watching you get yourself off on his dick. He loved watching you like this, just enjoying yourself.
After a minute, he realizes he can’t let you be the only one doing the work. You were so in your own world, riding him and feeling every inch of him. Your blissed out mind gets over taken when he grabs you and rolls on onto your back. He is on his knees as he grabs your legs with both of his hands, spreading you out. He grinds into you, his cock hitting you at a different angle now.
You moan out, reaching out to grab his shoulders. He takes the hint and dips down to capture your lips again, caging your body between his. He picks up the pace when you start to press your tongue forward into his mouth. You can’t help but whimper at how good he feels.
“You fuck me so good,” You mewl. He was panting, his hot breath fanning your wildly tangled hair. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, focusing on making you feel good. Every pump inside you brought you closer to that familiar warm feeling. He notices your heat clenching around him, which makes him want to change up his technique. He pushes off the pillows, grabbing your hips and slamming into you at a rate you didn’t know Joel was capable of.
“God, I can’t believe how fuckin’ good you feel, baby,” He pants, his thumb finding your swollen bud. As soon as he puts pressure there, you’re screaming out. “Mhm, that feel good? This cock better than his?”
“Yes, Joel, oh my god!”
He doesn’t let up. He wants to see you fall apart so bad, knowing those beautiful whimpers will send him into ecstasy.
“Cum for me, baby girl. Know you’re aching to,” He clenches his teeth, “Let go.”
You have never had your vision go white when you orgasm. It’s like you’re about to see the gates to Heaven. He holds your body, making sure to feel every nerve in your body fire off into euphoria. You don’t even know what you’re saying, you just know it’s an iteration of his name and a bunch of cuss words as you reach your peak.
You were absolutely obsessed. You knew it as soon as the come down brought back your vision and you saw Joel. He was throwing his head back while painting your insides with his cum. He looks so delicious, his entire toned upper body glistening with sweat.
He had to be the only man in the world, in that moment.
Once he pulls out, you truly realize how sensitive your core is. You shiver, feeling his cum trickling down your backside. You wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. You just fucked your boyfriend’s brother. And it was the best sex you’d ever had in your life.
You thought you’d feel that all too familiar regret, but instead you just look over at Joel as he flops down next to you. He’s staring at you, a slight smirk playing on his lips. You were trying to find the right words to say to him. He just did the Lord’s work.
Do you say thank you?
“You okay,” He asks while he runs his hand up your arm, causing goosebumps to litter your skin.
You grin, “I’m okay.”
“Do you want to stay here tonight?”
He was worried you’d go home and see Tommy passed out on the couch where he left him and regret everything. He knew you would probably stay here anyway, but he anticipated you taking the guest room next to Sarah’s.
But you weren’t going to take the guest room. No, you wanted to spend the rest of the night in his arms. Maybe even go for round two.
“As long as I get to stay right here,” You purr, taking his hand from your arm. You bring it up to your lips and kiss his fingers, “Right beside you.”
END
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#the last of us#joel miller the last of us#joel miller one shot#pedro pascal#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x reader smut#brother in law joel miller#tommy miller#gracieheartspedro
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Big reward. I meant for that to be a smut request, my bad.
OMFG I BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! Yessss finally some Valentino smut. I love it~ I’m honestly soooo inspired by @sweets4dolls and her Val x bunny!reader smut 🤤 literally so good. He’s so toxic. 10/10 would smash. Go check her stuff out! And I hope you enjoy my stuff too ❤️🔥
Notes: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, THIS ENDED UP LONGER THAN EXPECTED OOPS I’m gonna have to excuse myself now, geez 😳
TW: oral s*x (m receiving), DDLG, unsanitary, unprotected s*x, spit, creamp*e, rough, dirty talk, 18+ only MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Valentino x reader- Superstar 🌟💖
“And cut! That’s a fucking wrap!” Valentino shoots up from his seat so fast his chair tips over behind him as he claps obnoxiously. Boy had stars in his eyes, even his assistant was shocked by his display of pride and admiration. “Damn, baby. That was a helluva show, fuck! That’s why she’s my favorite~” Val smirks as he eyes your figure still up on set, still down on your knees and trembling. He snaps his fingers, yelling out to his back stage crew. “Alright! Come get the vibrator off her, hurry up.”
Yeah…although the scene had ended and the cameras cut at least 2 whole ass minutes ago, you’re still in position waiting for the boss to give you the okay. Down on your knees, hands bound behind your back with thick pink ropes, your pretty lacy lingerie disheveled and drenched in all kinds of different bodily fluids and, of course, Val had one of his most sturdy and powerful vibrators tucked up against your heat, making you grind down against the carpet below you just to get off. The worst part- he made you leave your panties on the whole time. Finally, after a few orgasms had already wracked your body, the vibrating in your crotch disappears, leaving you only half satisfied.
The entire shoot, all he had you do was suck as many dicks as you could, swallowing every single load for the camera. Gagging on cock is hot to some, maybe not to others- but there’s something about how darling you look choking on another demon’s dick that just sets him and his viewers off. Your pretty lashes dusted with tears, your nose and cheeks pink, your forehead shiny with sweat, your bare chest covered in spit and cum, your cheeks and throat stretching to fit every inch. Not that you mind! You’d do anything for Val but damn, you were aching for a real fuck. All the vibrator did was get you prepped and wet and now you need some real friction.
“Everyone, out! Now! I need to talk to (Y/N).” As all his employees scramble to leave the studio, Val walks over to you, still bucking your hips against nothing now. He kneels in front of you, taking your face in his hands. You’ve been staring at his hard on since half way through taping and now that he was right in front of you, dick about to rip through his pants, you feel your walls clenching longingly. “Wow. Holy. Shit.” He lets out a deep chuckle as he stares at your face, your make up smeared under your eyes. “I did okay?” The question has Val scoffing as he looks you up and down, watching as your thighs quiver. “Baby, you did fan-fuckin-tastic. You’re gonna make me so much fucking cash, I’m not gonna know what to do with it!”
With his hands still holding your face, he pulls you into a sloppy kiss, letting his tongue wander into you immediately. You happily tongue him back, leaning into him as you struggle to keep your balance with your hands still tied behind you. Breaking the kiss, his large hands travel down your neck to your chest, his fingers giving your sensitive nipples little squeezes. Val looks down to see you’ve scooted closer to him and you’re still rolling your hips in the hopes of finding something to fill you. He eases your pain by gently thrusting forward, his hard bulge up against your needy crotch for a moment.
“Aww~ I know, amorcito. Such a long shoot with such an empty hole. You must feel so hollow right now, baby. Does my little girl need more?” Nodding frantically, you kiss him again before moaning your pleas into his mouth. “Please, fuck me, Valentino.” His smirk becomes sinister as he leans away, refusing your kisses now. His shift causes you to fall forward into him more, your tits squished against his stomach now. “Ah ah ah. Try again.” His scolding makes you whine, makes tears begin to form in your eyes. “Hmm~ please f-fuck me, daddy~” and within seconds, he’s tearing your once disheveled lingerie completely off of you, your strained voice making his dick twitch.
“Hmm~ yeah, that’s my little superstar.” Within seconds, he had you turned around on your knees once again with your face pressed to the plush red carpet. Val made little effort to remove your panties, leaving them bunched up around your knees. Finally, with your face on the floor, your ass in the air and your throbbing cunt free of the fabric, Val gets a good look at your eager pussy. He yanks off his belt and quickly frees his dick without even pulling his pants down much. He can’t wait much longer and neither can you.
He swiftly leans over, one hand on each of your ass cheeks as he spits on your hole, earning a whine of anticipation from you. With no hesitation, he sits up and thrusts into you all at once, filling every bit of you instantly. “Oh my fucking-“ Val growls loudly as his hands grip your hips, his cock immediately moving at an unforgiving pace. Giving you no time to adjust, he continues to pound into you as he leans forward, putting one hand on the side of your head then forcing it down onto the ground. “Ah~ such a clean little cunt you’ve got, just patiently waiting to be filled by daddy, huh?”
All you can muster up is a collection of moans, whines and gasps. Right as you catch your breath, Val spanks your ass hard and his pace slows. “Use your words~” Despite the stinging hand print on your ass, his voice is soft and sweet, so sultry and exciting. “Yes! Ah- oh! I’ve been waiting for you all day...” Your begging goes straight to his head, pulling a hearty chuckle from him. “You’re such a good girl, amorcito. Always doing exactly what I say, right when I say it. And you do it all sooo welllll~”
His thrusting had stopped completely now and suddenly, his hands are on your shoulders, pulling you up to be parallel with his body. Your back against his chest and you now sitting on his dick, he wraps one of his strong hands around your throat loosely and pulls you back against him before whispering in your ear. “Good girls get to cum sooner. You wanna cum now, baby?” And you couldn’t take it anymore, you began to squirm against him. “Yes, yes! Please keep goinggggg~”
And Val obeys, wrapping his arms around your torso tightly then helping bounce you on his dick. He is so strong, he is literally lifting you completely off of his lap before slamming you back down again, making your stomach bulge as he swelled inside you. A moaning mess covered in sweat, you had lost control of your legs and were now relying on him to keep you going. Now you’ve found yourself thanking the stars that you had done good today and impressed him. He was always willing to service his favorites and this was so worth the wait.
He moved one hand up to your neck again, squeezing it as he pants and growls in your ear. With every up and down of your body, you can feel yourself getting close, your tummy feels so full and your walls won’t stop tightening around his dick. “Yeah~ lemme hear you, mi cariño.”
Moaning at a higher volume now, Val couldn’t hold back anymore and he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, drawing blood. As a squeal leaves you, he keeps his mouth latched to you, still thrusting up into your sopping cunt as he licks the blood away. Finally, once you feel yourself fall off the edge of pleasure, your legs tense up against him and your hands bound behind you were searching for something to grasp. “Oh fuck~! Th-thank you, daddy. Thankyoudaddythankyoudaddythankyoudaddyyyyyyy~!” Your cries are harsh, babbles of appreciation pouring from your dry mouth as Val continues to buck up into you.
Without letting you catch your breath, he pushes you back down into the carpet, your weak body going limp as you lay flat against the ground. Panting and whining still, you squeeze your legs together once you realize he’s not inside you anymore. Not a moment later, Val was gripping your bruised hips and pulling your ass back up in the air. Legs shaking violently, you couldn’t control your loud whining as he thrusts back into you again, resuming the same rapid pace as before. Val grunts and hisses at the feeling of your slick dripping down his thighs now. “Hmmph…gonna cum in you. Gonna fill my pretty girl up.” With a firm slap to your already tender ass, Val lets out a rumbling laugh as you pant into the carpet, tears of overstimulation cascading down your burning cheeks.
Already so fucked, you couldn’t even close your mouth for long enough to form a single word. Your only option was to relax into his grip and enjoy it for as long as he lasts. “F-fuck.” Val stutters out as his fingers dig into your soft flesh. With one final thrust, burying his dick inside you completely, he let out a throaty grunt followed by soft sighs. It nearly brought you to another climax feeling his hot cum spill into you. After a few seconds of being still, Val slowly pumps in and out of you, lewd squishing noises sounding from where your bodies connected.
Another hard smack to the ass is followed by Val slowly pulling out of you with his eyes locked on your swollen pussy the whole time. Glancing back at him, all you could see through the blurry tears in your eyes was his huge, satisfied grin as he watched his thick load dribble out of you. “Mm mm mm. You are so delectable. Such a good girl.”
Without another word, Val stands and pulls his pants up, adjusting himself before fastening his belt. You had since collapsed completely, your body heavy and flat against the floor beneath you. Val stepped over your quivering form and skillfully untied your hands with amazing speed. Your arms came flopping down to your sides as you inhaled fully then exhaled deeply. “Get yourself cleaned up and go rest for the night. I’m gonna need you to do all of that lovely hard work again tomorrow. You can do that for me, right baby?”
“Yes, daddy~”
#hazbin valentino#valentino#valentino hazbin hotel#Valentino hazbin#hazbin hotel valentino#val hazbin hotel#valentino x reader#valentino x you#valentino smut#hazbin smut#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin x you#hazbin x y/n#hazbin hotel smut#val x reader
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taken care of
benny cross x fem!reader/ 1k words
idea: your leaving work, but you’re being bothered. luckily you have company
tw: harassment, swearing, threats
notes: ok so this has been an idea of mine for A WHILE so i tried writing it out. think of that scene from the bikeriders after benny ended up in the hospital after literally getting clocked and the whole squad pulled up to the bar after that, it’s basically that but way more chill!! that scene was so hot ngl so i wanted to write about it:)) here it is
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
being benny’s girl doesn’t only mean gaining the mutual respect of the club and its members, but shown the same amount of care and protection as the bikers themselves.
you were just trying to leave work and go home, the 9-5 work shift literally left you exhausted, but this college boy would not leave you alone!
“can i take you for a ride sweetheart? i can take you back to mine to really get to know you” his obnoxious masculinity oozing out of him. he waited for a whole hour your shift to end, literally eye-fucking you the entire time as he kept shifting in his pants. what an animal you thought, you wanted to yell at him and humiliate him in front of other library goers so he can learn some manners. but you kept calm, you didn’t need to be scared.
“oh no thank you i’m alright! my ride’s just outside” you declined politely, which took a lot of strength for you to.
you’re walking out the door, ponytail swaying back and forth. “aw c’mon lil lady don’t be so shy! i can show you a real good ti-“ the boy couldn’t even finish his stupid sentence before stopping abruptly. the loud roar of rumbling engines sounding filled up the silent library. you’ve never seen anyone get so pale in the face.
you walk outside the door, the boy to follow, to see the fear-striking pack of bikers waiting outside the library doors.. waiting for you. you could spot wahoo, corky, and cockroach near each other, snacking on some gum and cigarettes. funny sonny was saying some shit to zipco and cal, whatever it was made them all send death glares to the shaking boy right next to you. johnny and bruice were checking out this boy, wondering if he would even stand a punch if he tried to lay a hand on you. and benny, bike stand kicked up and leaning back with a cigarette in hand, looked up right at you with nothing but love in his eyes.. and the slightest want to kill this filthy pig beside you on site.
you walk down to the club calmly, your flowy white blouse moving against your deep blue jeans, smiling sweetly at your family as you walked up to benny to peak him on the mouth. that poor boy knew he was screwed just by witnessing how all the bikeriders demeanors shifted to your presence. he was on the verge of vomiting once they looked back at him.
as you were getting on benny’s bike you took a glance up at the terrified boy, wondering why the hell he was still here. you were gonna say something to him, until you were interrupted.
“you wanna ride pretty boy? s’that what you wanted to ask?” benny said in a cocky tone, but you could hear the faint growl rumbling in his chest.
“n-no sir.. i just wanted to talk to this nice lady over her-“ that’s when you popped in quickly, but it did much more damage.
“oh so that’s why you wanted to to jump my bones a’few moments ago hm? to say somethin’ nice t’me?” you said it in your sweet tone of voice, but the adrenaline rising inside of you drenched your words in sarcasm. that caught everyone’s attention so fast, and in an instant everything became so loud.
“s’that so pretty boy?” johnny chimed in first “well you might need some help from us.. to learn how to treat a lady with real manners” his knuckle punching rings tightening tightening into a fist. “we’ll take care of ya’”
“yeah i’ll take care a’him by knocking his fuckin’ teeth down his throat!” cal yelled out, you could steam a teapot on his head from how riled up he was, he almost jumped that poor boy if it weren’t for zipco holding him back by the arm.
funny sonny loudly sounded his engine to make this boy shriek, which led some others to join in with cackles. “c’mon pinko! show us what you got, don’t be shy!” zipco chirped with a guttural laugh, increasing the blush and sweat on the embarrassed college boys’ face. that boy looked so frightened that you though he was gonna cry. ashamed. humiliated.
you could feel benny’s muscles tensing up against your chest, how he was just moments away from seconding cals’ idea. but he stayed right where you were, right where he was needed to keep you safe. everyone was there to keep you safe.
“get the fuck outta here you scum-fuck!” “don’t shit yourself on the way out pretty face!” wahoo and corky vulgarly gleamed, and that left the boy with one more glance at you, trying to send you a smile. not before benny sounded his engine roughly, a back the fuck off kind of signal that almost knocked they boy off his feet. and with that he ran down the block and turned the corner, knowing you wouldn’t see his face again anytime soon.
as everyone was gearing up while laughing, benny softly spoke to you. “you alright baby?” “i’m alright benny..thank you honey” he didn’t even need to say anything, giving the side your right thigh a good squeeze before kicking up his stick. you smiled against his back, that’s gonna need a good wash.
“you’re okay sweetheart, we’ll take care of ya’” that was johnny’s voice that rang. you and benny turned to him, relieved looks on both of your faces. “i mean it doll, always” he was firm with his, and you could only smile back at him.
and with that, you and the dozens of bikes beside you took off down the road.
what a way to call it a day.
#EEEEEEEK#yappathon#i love being a freak#austin butler#austin butler x reader#benny cross#benny cross x reader#the bikeriders#the bikeriders x reader#tom hardy#johnny from the bikeriders
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MAKE ME TAKE IT!
GOJO さとる + GETO すぐる
"Oh? Make you take it? Okay. I'll make you take it."
[ J's note ] : sharing is caring! i love me some satosugu smut idk why i haven't written more 🤨 also i rlly like the idea that suguru calls u a princess whenever satoru calls u a sl*t
[ Summary ] : Two pretty best friends sharing something good... and that's you! 😋👍💦
[ Warnings ] : 🔞 minors do not interact/read : contains 18+ content, smut, 3sum, bj, creampies, unprotected sex, light degradation/humiliation, c*m eating/c*ck cleaning, satosugu making out, dirty talk, pet names/namecalling (c*cksl*t, sl*t, princess), +++
🍒 More from Jay : JJK works
It's a Friday night. You three should be studying for finals, but Satoru got horny. And his horny energy is contagious to you and Suguru.
So you find yourself being shared by these two needy college boys instead of nosing in the textbooks.
Satoru slides out your quivering cunt and wipes the sweat off his forehead, his pretty eyes looking down admiringly at the gooey cumring that's formed on the base of his cock.
Suguru's eagerly swiping his cockhead through your slit. He's shuddering and letting out a shaky breath as he pushes into your sloppy cunt after Satoru had his fun overflowing it with his cum.
Something about Satoru's creampies turn you on so much that you become a verbal slut.
"Make me take it!" you beg Satoru erotically as he stations himself in front of you.
The boys exchange a smile that ridicules your sluttiness.
"Oh? Make you take it? Okay, I'll make you take it." Satoru grins toothily.
And then he forces your hips back and forth and makes you fuck yourself onto his best friends cock.
"Fuck, yes! Ohhh please! More! Harder! Uhnnnmmnfuckkk that's so fucking good!" you nearly scream, feeling Suguru's fat cock stroking against your gummy sweet spot.
"Wow... actin' like such a fuckin' slut for us." Satoru teases.
Suguru scolds his best friend, "Language, Satoru. She's not a slut, she's a pretty princess. Isn't that right, Y/n? You're a pretty princess." he treats you sweeter, knowing the duality of their behaviors excites you.
"Mhm!" you nod.
Suguru can feel your cunt constricting around his fat cock as Satoru complies to your pleas and pushes you down on it harder.
He groans and caresses your ass, hand cupping over Satoru's. Your plush skin slaps loudly against Suguru's abdomen, that sound together with the squelching sound of his dick in your pussy makes him want to cum.
"Nahhh, she's a slut. A princess wouldn't ask "make me take it"... you're a slut, aren't you, Y/n?"
"Yes!" you wail, completely drunk off and full of Suguru's cock. "I'm a sluttt!"
He's pounding into your weeping hole too good, even he can't think straight. All you care about is cumming obscenely on Satoru's best friend's cock.
"Don't tell it to me, I already know; tell it to Suguru. Tell him you're a nasty slut."
"I'm a slut!" you wail loudly, "I'm your nasty slut! Mmm!"
"Yeah? Our little cockslut? Nasty just for us? Aw, look at that fucking sluthole gushing... spread those pussy lips, let me see how your cunt stretches out for my best friend's dick — that's it. Good slut. Spread 'em wider... haha, that's so fucking sloppy. You've got a sloppy, slutty pussy, baby. Oh... Suguru, you're close, aren't you?" Satoru smirks, noticing how Suguru's gone silent and let his eyes flutter shut. He always does that when he's about to cum.
"Y-yeah, I'm s-so close... keep making her take my cock, it's s-so hot... fuck, ahhh I'm gonna cum. I-I'm gonna fill you up j-just like Satoru did, princess. Oh fuck... g-god... nnh I'm cumming! Ahh S-Satoru, I'm cumminggg...!"
And it's funny, how Suguru cums moaning his best friend's name while draining his balls in your pussy. Satoru's nastily rubbing on your pussy to make you cum just like you came on his cock earlier, muttering filth above you as you squish your cheek against his cock.
You're so dazed by your long, hard orgasm... just taking Suguru's seed as it floods into your cunt as ribbon-like shots. You feel both the boy's cum spilling out your hole and running down your slit, Suguru's being more watery than Satoru's thick baby batter.
While you make those cute afterglow noises, these two pretty best friends are making out above you, their saliva dripping down their connected lips. Satoru's a whimperer while kissing Suguru, you noticed, and it makes your pussy clamp down on the fat cock filling you up.
"I'm so full..." you groan softly, pressing a hand to your pussy and feeling the cum flowing out your drooling cunt.
"Mhm. Good. Sluts need a good filling from two dicks, don't they? Are you happy now? Yeah? Good."
You're nodding cutely, nuzzling Satoru's abs to show appreciation.
"Aw, cute..." Suguru smiles, petting your hair. He slides out your abused hole with a nasty sound. "Hey princess, turn around and clean this mess off my cock, will you?"
"Mhm~!" you hum, happily turning around and complying to his wish.
The boys exchange a smirking look as you start to suck and lick on Suguru's cock like it's a lollipop that you can't get enough of. You can taste your salty slick, your cream, and the mixture of both their cum. It's all frothed up at the base, gooey and sticky along the shaft, and you lick up everything while the boys widen their eyes at you.
"Yeah, I changed my mind, Satoru... you're right. She's a nasty fucking slut..." Suguru admits under his breath, patting your head as you look up at him with doe eyes, mouth full of cock.
"Of course I'm right." Satoru plants a hard smack on your pussy, and slides his fingers in and out so he can gather the mess on his fingers and get a taste for it. He sucks the juices off his middle finger and winks at Suguru, who blushes vehemently and can't look away every time his best friend does that.
"But you're a slut, too, aren't you Suguru?" he giggles, then licks his lips and presses his tongue into his cheek to insinuate what you were doing — sluttily sucking on Suguru's mushroom-tipped dick.
© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
#mdni#smut#satosugu smut#satoru x suguru smut#jjk smut#gojo smut#geto smut#satoru smut#suguru smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#gojo#geto#gojo satoru#geto suguru#geto x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#satosugu#stsg#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojo saturo#saturo gojo#jujutsu kaisen#jujustu kaisen#jjk geto#geto x reader
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As a counter to you sending me a scrumptious request, I SHALT DO THE SAME.
So, there's like a lot of drama going on rn (kinda juicy lols)
How about, Bakugou Katsuki whose best friend, Reader, (who he's secretly in love with) gets confessed to by a handful of people within two weeks' time or something.
Pwetty please? ✋😔
A/N: AHHH SEO I'M SO SORRY I'VE BEEN SO CAUGHT UP WITH THE WARRIOR SERIES THAT I DIDN'T HAVE TIMEEEE 😭 Here's the masterlist lol
Warning(s): Cursing, kabedon kinda, Bakugou gets kinda possessive, short but sweet, confessions, reader is obliviously in love, just fluff
Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
•────•°•❀•°•──── ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇʀꜱ ────•°•☁︎•°•─────•
“I swear to ever loving fuck yer gonna be the death of me.”
You swat Bakugou’s arm, half joking, half serious.
“Bakugou! Don’t swear you idiot. Plus I think it’s sweet.” You chide, returning your gaze to the mess of gifts that lay on your desk. It was your third year- you would all be graduating next week. And over the past week, you were bombarded with love notes wherever you went, finding three in your locker one morning, 4 on your desk, and even one slipped into your gym back when you returned from training.
Bakugou clicks his teeth, and rolls his eyes. “I seriously have no idea what those idiots see in ya. Must need glasses like Four Eyes or somethin’
You snort at that, ignoring the sting you felt in your heart as he said the words. You knew he didn’t mean it, it was just Bakugou being Bakugou, so why did it hurt so much?
Thankfully, Aizawa chose that moment to walk in, sparing you the obligation to respond to Bakugou’s confusion when you went silent.
***
Class was a drag, per usual, and you were packing up your stuff, planning on heading to your locker, when you were ambushed by yet another secret admirer.
This person however, was bolder, deciding to give you flowers and a box of chocolates in person. You recognize him, a boy from one of the business courses, in the year below you.
“L-L/N-san!” he says brightly, thrusting the box and bouquet into your arms, catching you off guard. “I like you a lot, ever since my first year here…! Would you go out with me? Just for one date, I promise you won’t regret it!”
To be honest, you really hadn’t thought about dating much - you were so caught up with school work and work studies that you never really focused on romantic relations. However, Hawks, your work studies mentor, allowed you off for the summer before you’d return to his agency as a sidekick.
You weren’t sure what to say- sure the boy in front of you was sweet and caring, but he wasn’t what you thought of when you thought about an ideal partner.
But damn did you hate rejecting people.
Luckily, you didn’t have to.
Bakugou storms in behind you, slamming your locker for full effect, his own way of self restraint.
“Fuck off.” he growls, and you can tell it’s taking everything in him to not throttle the boy into the ground.
The latter swallows thickly and throws his hands up, attempting to talk himself out of the situation.
“Bakugou-san I was just-”
“Fuck. off.”he seethes, and with that the boy bolts down the hall.
You both stand there, not saying anything before you hear Bakugou’s voice again.
“You.”
“Bakugou…?” you ask warily, and he slams you against the lockers, caging you against it with his body. You can almost feel the rage emanating off of him.
“Do ya know, how annoyin ya’ve been these past few weeks, huh? Fuckin runnin around gettin love letters left and right.” he grumbles and you feel yourself getting a little angry too.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that. Plus, I thought ‘you didn’t know what everyone else saw in me’. You can’t call me fucking ugly and then expect me to come trailing after you like a damn puppy.” you snap, and Bakugou’s eyes widen.
“Goddamnit.” he groans, pulling off of you and his face turns red.
“I..” he starts, and he groans again. “I fuckin like ya okay?!”
Your eyes widen, and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach.
He…
You smile, and step closer to him, pressing a small kiss on his cheek.
“C’mon, Blasty. Let’s go back to the dorms.”
#katsuki bakugo#bakugou#katsuki bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bakugo#bakugo fluff#bakugo headcanons#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou fluff#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo x you#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha bakugou#mha bakugo x reader#mha bakugou#bakugou katsuki imagine#bakugou katsuki bnha#bakugou katsuki x you#bakugo katsuki x you#mha#bnha#my hero academia x reader#⋆｡‧˚ʚ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖉 𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖘 ɞ˚‧｡⋆#―✧˖° 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖉 ♛ °˖✧―
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ೀ SIX EYES
——————————————————————————pairing; college au!gojo satoru x reader
synopsis; you couldn’t help but notice a pair of wandering eyes during your 10am lecture
word count; ~2k words
contents; sfw, f!reader, no curses au, rich college student gojo, cocky/playful gojo, six eye/infinity references
notes; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A QUICK LIL DRABBLE IDK WHAT HAPPENED? i <3 run ons and sentence fragments apparently
——————————————————————————
the first thing you noticed about him were his eyes.
well, technically, his eyes noticed you first.
in the midst of your monday 10am lecture (known for its lengthy, soul-wrenching talks about finance), you felt his sharp gaze pierce straight into your soul. it was a brief, quick glance — but it was an intentional glance, nonetheless.
you simply brushed it off. it must’ve been him zoning out, or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. that was until you caught him repeating the same habit again. and again. over the course of the next three weeks.
that same, hungry gaze, taking in every intricacy of your features. a look that felt like it set your entire body on fire, despite the icy blue hue his pupils reflected each time you returned a glance. his stare would only last a few seconds at most, but something about it felt so intense, so overbearing— it made hold your breath each time.
in all honesty, you didn't mind the attention. in fact, you kind of reveled in it — a handsome, 6'3 guy always ogling at you every lecture. it even had you thinking that maybe he was into you?
but that was at first. as more weeks passed, the more your ego shrank. 'is there something on my face,' you wondered, patting at your cheeks to search for some sort of makeup residue or food crumb, 'do i look stupid?' the large, echoey lecture hall felt evermore revealing as you struggled to find a way to shrink into your plastic-clad seat. but you couldn't hide, not from a stare like that.
paranoia getting the best of you, you slide your phone out of your pocket as you send a hasty text to your best friend, “bro who is this guy? he keeps staring at me EVERY lecture,” you send a 0.5x photo, clearly taken from afar.
just as quickly, your friend responds, “NO FUCKIN WAY is that gojo???” “who the fuck is gojo?”
you could almost feel her attitude burst through the text bubbles, “bro… GOJO. his family is literally loaded?? did you not see his dad surpass bill gates on the global ranking of billionaires?” that text takes you a little by surprise, alternating your eyes between him and the message upon your screen. “okay maybe it’s starting to sound familiar, but still. what’s he doing cosplaying as a broke college kid in my finance class?” you sigh as you continue to tap on your screen, “idgaf that he’s loaded it’s pissing me off that he’s staring at me like 🧿🫦🧿 every lecture.”
your friend reacts with a quick “haha” to your text before responding, “idk man maybe you just caught the attention of the richest guy on campus ;)”
you decided you’ve had enough after reading that text. you’re not about to feed your delusions this early on a monday morning. you’ll admit, he’s a good —no, stunning— looking guy, but you have no time to babysit a boy who was never taught that staring was rude. not to mention, this boy isn't even in the same tax bracket as you.
brushing it off yet another time, you let out a deep sigh as you flip the page, copying your professor’s notes on the board.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
a whole month has passed and this gojo guy is growing more and more cocky with his stolen glances. he's not even trying to hide it anymore.
this fateful wednesday, as you walk into class, he immediately locks onto you. his bright blue orbs follow you from the door to your row, not releasing his gaze in the slightest after you settle into your seat. your grit your teeth in annoyance as you flip through your notebook pages. who does this guy think he is? it’s been a month and he hasn’t even procured the balls to say a single word to you. yet, he’s feasting on you like you’re his final meal on death row.
the second the class is excused, you immediately beeline towards his seat — stopping in front of his leaning frame while he packs his bag. “dude, what the hell is your problem,” scowling at him as you approach, “i’ve seen you stare at me for weeks now and it’s getting straight creepy."
his ears perk at the sound of your voice, haphazardly zipping up the final pocket of his backpack. when he looks up, his eyes glint with a hint of mischief as he scrunches his nose in a grin — a grin that’s somehow even cockier than his stare.
“i’m just taking in the view, princess,” he jeers, delight in his tone.
you stare at him incredulously as you take his confession in. so he really has been staring at you? “for one, i’m not your princess," you scoff at his clear disregard of your concern, "second, you might want to think again before you decide to stare at me one more damn time.”
he hums amusingly, shaking his foot in a steady rhythm, “you’re right. i might think about it again.” his grin is even wider now, “why, what are you going to do about it?”
“—look, i don’t know what you’re getting at,” your eyebrows furrow deeper, “but if you keep this shit up, this won’t be the last time you hear from me.”
briskly, you swing around, completely ignoring his bickers as you head straight out the hallway door.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
to gojo, everything you said on wednesday was music to his ears.
he strolled into the next lecture, on monday, with the same shit-eating grin on his face. ‘this wont be the last time he hears from you?' god, he hopes that was true. it made him wonder why he didn’t just stare at you harder in the first place.
everything about you captivated gojo satoru.
from the first day of lecture, he was already mesmerized — by the wafting scent of your cologne as you walked past his row, the way your head cocked to the side whenever you thought through a problem set, the distant clicks as you tapped the end of your pencil against your arm nervously.
he simply couldn’t help but steal that initial glance. he also couldn’t help but steal another one the lecture after.
and another. and another.
he knew he was getting ahead of himself, being so selfish with his dangerous stares, but you just had that effect on him. an effect that he's never experienced with anyone else. he bit back his pride when he couldn’t even approach you first, as he normally did with his prior interests.
there was just something so serene, so heavenly about you. he almost wanted to leave you undisturbed, opting to observe you from afar — not wanting to disrupt his delicate masterpiece from behind the red rope at the museum.
but the day you approached him changed everything. ‘how can someone so innocent have such a mouth on her,’ he chuckles to himself, taking his ipad and apple pencil out of his backpack before laying them flat on the table.
you were completely unlike his initial impression of you, much to his amusement. he prefers it this way —actually— he likes a girl who has a bit of a bite. besides, he finally has an excuse to talk to you and do what he knows best: get under your skin. metaphorically (and literally).
he glances at the door as he hears the familiar clanking of your keychain against your water bottle, more excited for the lecture than he's ever been before.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
there is no fucking way.
gojo satoru is now sitting in the seat directly next to your unassigned assigned seat in this 300-person lecture hall. the entire classroom is almost packed too. how early did he have to be to even get that seat? why is he in that seat? your thoughts are cut off as he waves his hand at you, muttering a short "yoohoo~," ushering you to sit next to him.
hell no. you still have no idea what he's playing at. is he stalking you? does he have some sort of ulterior motive? what if his scary billionaire family kills you, a dirty plebeian, for sitting so close to their perfect, trust fund baby?
you immediately switch gears, practically running away to find a new seat, catching a glimpse of his pout in the corner of your eye. you ignore him and situate yourself in the very front row, directly in front of the professor's podium. you let out a deep exhale as you unpack your notebook when you hear a loud shuffle next to you.
this guy has no shame.
gojo, in all his glory, happily claims the empty seat next to you —unloading the entire apple store (or so it feels like) onto the desk. "good choice, doll. more leg room up here," he stretches his long, lanky legs before crossing them — making sure his knee briefly makes contact with yours.
"are you serious right now— bro your entire apple ecosystem is getting onto my side of the desk," you scowl at him once again as you shove his macbook closer to him. "serious about what?" he mocks, that signature smile gleaming down on you.
"whatever this is? are you obsessed with me or something," you mutter the last part under your breath, but he takes note of you rolling your eyes at him. "hmmm," he taps his chin all philosophically, "if anything you're the one obsessed with me."
wow, this guy really is insane. you felt your eyebrow twitch in anger as you jerked your head up, "me obsessed with you? how does that even make any sense—" "you said you noticed me staring for weeks," he muses, still looking straight at you, "but you don't think i noticed you staring back?"
you scoff, "i was simply just returning your gaze; not everything is about you!” “untrue.”
after refusing to make eye contact, you finally meet his eyes. "i'm not gonna play this damn game with you, look—"
you've never seen him this close before. you've never seen anyone this close before, really. in this cramped lecture hall, with its seats compressed like sardines, it felt like he was only mere millimeters away from you. your breath hitched as the air seemed palpable, heavy. he was so close, but it felt like he was untouchable — almost as if an infinite void was cast between you two.
for the first time, he dropped that condescending smirk. he dropped the facade altogether. beyond the icy blue hues, his eyes glistened a shade that he only shows to you, a shade you've never noticed in all those times you two locked eyes. they were powdery blue — the same softness as the edges of the clouds in the sky or the frothy, tidal waves lightly crashing against the beach sand.
it made you wonder if it was physically possible for one person to hold so much power in just their eyes. a power that felt like three whole people, six eyes-worth, were constantly peering into every fiber of your being. except this time, it was intense in a whole different way, completely unlike before. the closest feeling you could think of was a warm oven, fresh after a batch of cookies — an inexplicable warmth in contrast to his icy appearance.
lost in each others' eyes, he parts his lips as if to finally say something—
"i would really appreciate if you two kept your eyes on the board instead of on each other," a voice boomed from the podium in front of you.
you both tense up, quickly spinning your bodies around to face the front as the snickers began to fill the classroom. you completely forgot about how close you were sitting to the professor.
you felt a tinge of heat start on your cheeks, creeping its way up onto the cartilage of your ears. the embarrassment was more than enough to shut you both up for the rest of the period, but you knew.
you knew you wanted to feel this way again.
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final notes; i wrote this in my actual lecture hall instead of taking notes guys😎😎 (i am severely ill)
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo imagines#gojo satoru imagine#jjk x reader#jujustu kaisen x reader#gojo imagine#gojo satoru imagines#jjk fluff#gojo fluff#satoru fluff#gojo satoru fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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